War seems like a fine adventure$$$ the greatest most of them will ever know. Then they get a taste of battle. For some$$$ that one taste is enough to break them. Others go on for years$$$ until they lose count of all the battles they have fought in$$$ but even a man who has survived a hundred fights can break in his hundred-and-first. Brothers watch their brothers die$$$ fathers lose their sons$$$ friends see their friends trying to hold their entrails in after they’ve been gutted by an axe. They see the lord who led them there cut down$$$ and some other lord shouts that they are his now$$$ They take the wound$$$ and when that’s still half-healed they take another. There is never enough to eat$$$ their shoes fall to pieces from marching$$$ their clothes are torn and rotting$$$ and half of them are shitting in their breeches from drinking bad water.If they want new boots or a warmer cloak or maybe a rusted iron half helm$$$ they need to take them from a corpse$$$ and before long they are stealing from the living too$$$ from the small folk whose land they’re fighting in$$$ men very like the men they used to be. They slaughter their sheep and steal their chickens$$$ and from there it’s just a short step to carrying off their daughters too. And one day they look around and realize all their friends and kin are gone$$$ that they are fighting beside strangers beneath a banner that they hardly recognize. They don’t know where they are or how to get back home and the lord they’re fighting for does not know their names$$$ yet here he comes$$$ shouting for them to form up$$$ to make a line with their spears and scythes and sharpened hoes$$$ to stand their ground. And the knights come down on them$$$ faceless men clad in all steel$$$ and the iron thunder of their charge seems to fill the world.And the man breaks.