Upon your enlistment, you were told you'd only need to fight twice per month. This proved underambitious.
Tonight, again, is battle, and you are battle-weary. Your armor is scanty and your countenance is loathsome; you tire of the swords flicking at your neck. But you have a duty. There is nothing you can't take.
28th place (out of 58) in the 22nd Annual Interactive Fiction Competition.
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