He felt each and every one of his 78 years as if he were some geriatric Sisyphus and those years his own personal boulder to push. Aye, but push he must, for one task remained.
Within these woods, they’d waged war against the might of the Kal’Shakh’Ti Horde. Tattered and near-bootless, his lads had left bloody footprints in the metal slag raining down on them. He’d halted them here, to make their final stand.
“Reach now ye must! Reach deep inside and ye’ll find a wee bit of a secret in yer chasm of hope. Ye’ll find the indomitable will of humanity to withstand whatever force assails us. Hold tight on that now and follow me!”
Follow him they had and gloriously had they died. Now, in the twilight of his years, he would finally follow them. He swore he could hear them calling as he laid himself down to sleep on the cool earth.