Sword in the Fire

There is a rumor, that north of this barren place exists a land lush with green rolling hills dotted with flowers, bird, and butterflies, flanked by large piney forests full of wild game and run through with streams and creeks.  The source of all this goodness is a river that gathers and spreads its fertile waters throughout the land. The old ones tell of a time that at the edge of this fertile plateau, the river tumbled off into a waterfall sharing the nourishment of this northern country with our own.  Some tyrant full of greed dammed the waters of this generous river, plugging off life from our little plot of earth.  Now we hovel in the sides of ditches, onetime creeks fed from above, sheltering ourselves from the elements, looking for a puddle of moisture to slack our constant thirst.   Rushing at us with panicked excitement, a horseman cries out for us to climb out of our trenches and run from these cracked beds.  He speaks of an unknown warrior ...