I stand as a general before the armies of the 
enemy elves, my forces nearly wiped away.  Our banner, 
the banner of the Illuminated Fist, is torn and 
flailing weakly in the wind.  We stand as the elite 
guard of our leader, and the protectors of the 
people.  The elves are full of trickery, their only 
ethics involve their magic.  Out forces which have 
been fighting with theirs for decades have been beaten 
back past our nation’s border by the magic of the 
elves.  Our nation has been shattered and ground down 
to dust by our enemy, and our army now stands the last 
defense against their advance.  

	During the war our men were taken captive and 
experimented on.  Our men were mutilated and killed; 
tortured for information.  Our men stood valiant and 
told nothing.  The elves grew frustrated with our men, 
but the they are clever and patient.  The testing went 
on through the war and our lost men were tortured and 
shaped; prodded and tested through the elves’ arcane 
magic.
	Back then we stood a chance against the elves, 
their forces could not match the might of our 
warriors.  We took several of their cities and tried 
their might. The elves were fought off easily, but 
whenever they defeated one of our armies, they only 
took prisoners.  The elves worked through the years 
and they fought us fiercely, until one battle occurred.

	I remember I was resting from the wounds of a 
battle and a scout rode into the courtyard, barely 
able to sit on his horse.  He was the soul survivor of 
a battle against the elves that had taken place the 
night previous.  The scout had enough time to tell me 
that the elves had created a new race of warriors far 
more fierce and strong than had ever existed.  The men 
looked like bulls that walked on two legs.  At first I 
thought it impossible, but then I saw them in battle.  
They were always at the front of the advances, driven 
by their masters.  We tried to fight the infamous 
minotaurs, as they became to be known, but our efforts 
were futile.  Even our most skilled warriors fell 
under their wrath.  I remember the battlefield after 
one of these encounters.  I looked at my brethren, 
then I saw a minotaur by my foot.  He was dead, so I 
examined the corpse.  There was so much sadness in the 
face of that minotaur, and some familiar features.  It 
was confirmed that our men had been turned into these 
beasts.  Even a dull axe could cut through our armor 
when a minotaur’s might was behind it.  We tried to 
fight them with several strategies, but out efforts 
were for naught.  As we were battered back time after 
time, only the elite guard stands as a barrier from 
defeat.
	I stood on the battlefield with the only 
remnant of my army, we could not fight one more 
battle, so I laid down my shield, and entered my tent 
where I garbed myself in black.  I instructed my 
forces to do the same, and after they had done so, I 
addressed them.

	“The elves are advancing.  I have one last way 
out... we will cut off their economy, we will kill 
their leaders, and we will fight them under the 
protection of darkness.  We will defend our country, 
and we will do it by night.”

	After that time our scouts kept us 
strategically placed at all times, our assassins 
killed men strategically, and our thief's stole from 
them.  Our empire became strong once more, and the 
elves fought us no more.  The minotaurs soon broke 
free of their slavery and we took the opportunity to 
weaken them.  The elves recovered by enslaving the 
minotaurs once more, but after the second cycle of 
slavery ended we still stood.  The elves still stand 
as a threat as well as others who wish to rid us of 
the land, but we live in the night and we fight in the 
night.  In the night we shall conquer!