He was the greatest swordsman I ever saw. He could swing the blade like no-one else, making it dance at the end of his arm like it was alive.
(It wasn't, I checked.
Multiple times.)
But despite this, he never quested, never searched or fought for treasure, he seemed content to teach guardsmen the same four basic moves.
I asked him why, again and again, and he finally told me.
"I know I'm the best. But no matter how good I am, there's always a chance I'll miss something, and end up dead.
The best ain't enough against random chance."
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