In any strategic battle, it's better to make haste and send out some of the expendables. The front men move out first, as they always do. I carry out my duty with honor, for there lies within me the hope that I may one day be the hero. It is my duty to protect him at any cost – even if that cost is my own life. The shield that I hold bears the mark of my King whom, by orders of my Queen, I stand before at all times. Upon first glance, I am neither a large nor intimidating man, but I am a man with a shield. The lines that would be defining what little muscle I do have instead resemble protruding bones and malnourishment. I have a rounded face that chose not to be defined by a forceful jawline or brooding eyes, but by an inability to produce facial hair. My hair, black as night, straggles over my eyes like a frayed shoelace missing its aglet. It is not because I too am dismissive of my very existence, but because I am convinced that I am worth more.
Although I am well aware that my kingdom values my life as much as they would a pesky, pintsized fly, I defend it to no ends. My brethren and I, we know the truth we are expendable.
