Board Thread:Fun and Games Forum/@comment-25175520-20150429173912/@comment-24306135-20150521120753

(I can do that for you Accolyte. I've got breaks between my finals. :-P)

"''You are, oh Warlock. You bear little or no armor, relying on eldritch magics and subterfuge, rather than the hardness and surety of a fine sharp blade. Your power makes you rash, like a Dreg who gains the level of his Captain. I have seen your kind in battle as well. You let those you call Hunters stand behind the line, working with their long-rifles, and yet their blades can rip through hull plate if they wish it. Why do they not take the risks required to earn glory, or to serve among the line? Both you and the Hunters, it seems, have no wish for honor, nor of the glory gained in combat. You launch your balls of Light, which crack great holes in the lines they strike, but then you turn away, fearful of retribution. Who among the enemy can strike against such power? Who is left, after such a blast? Their souls are yet gas upon the wind. The only ones who stand among you with the honor of a Kell are these Titans. They stride forward to the enemy, and their zeal is unflinching. They speak with fists and purest rage, not words and Light. But perhaps that is the way of you humans. You know yourselves and your callings well, and for that I do not begrudge you."''

Karak began tinkering with the remains of Sauron's sword, which Baryos noticed he had modified. The broken shards of the blade had been cut down, and the formerly dulled point had become a single, shining line. The Vandal had converted the blade into a well-formed dagger, which matched the original blade's contours.