It was inevitable. Good versus evil. Black versus white. The face off was one waiting to happen in a year past. He had been waiting. And so was the other.

The foot soldier knew his worth. He was dispensable, minute, a speck in a vast army of the king. It was going to be a long, tiring day.

The knights rallied and pressed; the end of the battle was far from over.

But as finally the king fell, no trace of sympathy was found in the faces of his army.