"Welcome to the Army of Avalon, lad!
We might not be as fancy or glorious as the Templars or the Legate Knights, but we’re the cornerstone of the Avalonian Army.
Of course, our life is never easy!
We’re usually sent to the front lines before anyone else, to tire the enemy out or slow him down before the elite troops can smash them. Many of us die a quick and dirty death, but those who survive know how to make the most of our experience and quickly become instructors or sergeants. It’s a risky job, but the Kingdom knows to reward those who deserve it.
For my part, I've been a trooper for 25 years, and I’m sure one of these days I will receive the blessing of the Beathacrann for my years of service and devotion ..."

« You, who are the newest member of our tribe, treasure these carefree years.  Enjoy the protection of the Manitous without having to shed your blood or
sweat to thank them for it. You have the wondrous nature of the world to discover and a great task on your path: to grow! Only then will you know your Imayeto.
Already you crawl as fast as the wind blows. Soon you will be counted amongst the brave. 

In time you will stand on your own two feet and grow without fear; and I know you will be there to take my place and protect Oblaye Itse against those-who-carry-steel. »

"The creature walked towards us, stumbling in the growing darkness that accentuated the pale lividity of its unnatural skin. His rusty weapon swung at the same erratic rhythm of his walk, like it was trying to compensate for its owner’s  precarious balance. We should have been terrified by this warped creature who could feel but hatred for us.

But strangely its decrepit aspect awakened nothing but pity in us. Seeing it so heinously target our lives, we could not help but be touched by Furgol and his appealing mediocrity."