DaveUKR was preparing for the next battle along with the other mercenaries. Bows were being stringed, blades sharpened, horses brought out from the stables. He felt ready for this. His steel bolts were marked with the names of people, people whose life were going to end this day, with a steel bolt from himself being the last thing they were ever gonna see.
After several hours of preparing, the mercenaries were fired-up and ready to go out on a new raid, maybe their last. Muffin was leading with passion as always. It was finally time, Dave thought to himself, ready for what awaited him. He stepped out of his tent in manly fashion, only to see the clouds group up. RAIN, always that godforsaken rain! A tear ran down Dave's cheek as he saw his crossbow string being weakened by the weather. He had never cried before. This was a sign, he could feel it. He felt the age in his heart, his body getting weaker any minute. It could only mean one thing. Retirement was imminent.
Dave stashed away his most valuable gear in a chest, for his son to pick up later on. DaveUKR, Grandmaster DaveUKR, a legend on the battlefield, was now gone, forever.
