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Strange thing, battle songs: always framed by glory and the exploits of the brave. They almost made you forget that fear is the true ruler of the battlefield. No one ever sings about the screams; no one tells you how they’ll echo in your mind. Except for that one bard—Boutros, was it? He sang it straight, shocked a few people, amused others, but it didn’t last. Truth is never popular. People are always asking for it, but it’s never what they want. Not really.
