“Aye, one more battle. I can fight this once more.”
The weight of a thousand battles rests on Gorvin’s wide shoulders, the weight of a hundred thousand enemies, the weight of hundreds of felled friends. He has been fighting for so long. The dwarves are long-lived and sturdy, but even the longest-lived will find life and war tiring at some point, and even the sturdiest will find their shoulders bowed with age. His axe is chipped. His helmet was struck by a firebolt. But Gorvin will stand proud. He will swing his mighty axe. He will fell a thousand more enemies. He will protect a hundred friends. He will persevere.