Editing White wall (section)

===Number II===
One average day on the farm, the fighter tilling the field and enjoying the peace he worked so hard to acquire, sees his young children rushing towards him. They're scared about something and beg him to rush to the town square. It takes only a moment for what are old bones and tired muscles to snap back to the readiness of the all those years ago. In full sprint he makes for the square, dreading the possiblities. Have the orcs gotten so bold? Has an old foe come to enact his revenge? Is his wife alright? All these questions fly through his mind as he leaps over the towns fence in a single bound. Dashing he makes his way through the streets, over carts and past surprised onlookers. But as he reaches he reaches the square there is no death or pain, only confusion. The statue in the town square, upon which his impervious armor "White Wall" stood for years, was missing.

Although the fighter had many powerful friends, they could find no thief of the armor, none of their old allies could find even a trace of someone who would have even dared remove it. Especially though their magical protections they had placed on it all those years ago. It was if the armor itself had simply gotten up and walked away.

It was a few years later that the fighter heard a strange tale from a traveling bard. He'd grown accustomed to hearing his own tales of his adventuring days, the glory of the white wall and his defense of all things innocent. All that poetic stuff, but this tale was one he'd never heard before, because he was never in the east and didn't recall ever fighting off a pair of blue dragons. After his story the fighter asked the traveler where he heard the story. It came from a man he met crossing from the east, in a caravan, only a few months ago.

As the man aged, he heard more tales. People claiming to see the White Wall and his heroic efforts to save them. But all this time he was here, home on the farm. Did someone steal his armor only to continue his great quest to save others? It seemed impossible, his armor was so enchanted no other creature could wear it but him.

As the time came, as it does to all men, the fighter rested in his favorite chair, overlooking his prosperous farm and marveling at how his hometown had grown. He smiled a wrinkled grin and enjoyed the sun warming his old bones. He heard footsteps coming from around the corner of his old home. Even now he was still alert, and in a moment up on his feet and ready with his cane, though it was too much for him, and he began to tumble. The footsteps turned to a rush of armored clanking, and before he could fall to the ground he was caught in cool metal hands. He thanked the stranger, and looked up, only to see his own armor had caught him. But what was stranger, was that behind the faceplate there was no eyes. No face nor head, the armor was moving of it's own accord. It placed him down in his chair and handed him his cane. The fighter couldn't hear the armor, for it didn't speak, but knew that it had returned only to say farewell. Although the fighters time had finished, there were always towns that needed protection, wars to fight, and innocent people who needed help. His body could no longer continue the fight, but his armor could and so it would. The White Wall will always fight, until the end of days it will fight, and when that day comes it will fight still.