Once there lived the son of a great warrior. He was expected by all to live up to the great legend that was his father. He even was given his father's favorite sword when he came of age to esquire. His apprenticeship went along exceedingly well. The young warrior learned everything there was to know about swordplay... except how to acutally weild a sword.

His own skills were limited, but he could tell everything about a warrior merely by observing their stance. He knew every trick, every strike that someone else could do with a sword. The young warrior simply lacked any real drive to be a great warrior. He learned the lore well, but when it came time to practice his skills, he never seemed to find the time.

Nevertheless, his peculiar talent was quite useful in duels. He could with but a glance tell if his meagre skills would be enough to best an opponent. Those he knew he could not beat, he simply did not fight.

So it was that this young warrior of great intellect but limited skill earned a reputation for being unbeaten. Knights and warriors all over the land started to seek out this warrior who had never been beaten. But this young warrior was hard to find, for he wore no fancy armor, bore no coat of arms.

One day the young warrior was spotted by his father's legendary sword. The knight who recognized it challenged him to a deul on the spot. With but a cursory glance, the youth knew his own skill was no match for this knight. So he chose the pace of duel to be the woods outside town. The knight agreed.

Deep in the woods they fought, but the knight was not pleased with the bout. The young warrior merely dodged his every stroke! It was uncanny, as if he could read the knight's mind. The warrior was, of course, reading the sword, knowing where not to be and quickly plotting an escape. He feinted back, leading the knight to a thick oak tree.

A well timed dodge had the knight's sword stuck deep in its trunk. The knight instinctively released the blade and leapt back. Being unarmed, he reached for his second blade. By the time his gaze and attention returned from his scabbard to the battle, the young warrior was nowhere to be seen.

The knight shouted out "Coward! Have you no Pride?!"

The young warrior, in fact, considered escaping intact a grand victory. The legend of the unbeatable warrior continued to grow, but no warrior or knight of skill could ever seem to find this mystery man. Until one fateful day.

A knight wearing the blackest mail happened into the young warrior's favorite bar. The knight quickly picked a few fights, made several passes at the barmaids, and generally made himself at home. Most of the patrons left. The young warrior knew with his usual glance that he could not beat this boar of a knight, and so started to file out the door with the rest.

The black knight, however, took an interest in him, perhaps marking him for easy prey. He bumped into the warrior as he tried to slink past, and began to berate him. The young warrior wanted no part of this, and tried repeatedly to get past the boorish knight, to no avail.

The knight merely laughed. Spotting the hilt of his sword, the Knight scoffed, "Fancy yourself a warrior, weakling?"

The young warrior declined to answer. The knight drew his father's sword from its scabbard.

"This toy will not hurt anyone!", laughed the Knight, as he gripped the sword in his gauntlets, one on the hilt and one at the tip of the blade. He began to apply pressure... The sword buckled, then snapped in two before the young warrior's eyes.

"That.. was.. my.. father's...", muttered the young warrior.

The boorish knight continued to mock and laugh at the youth. Something in the back of the young warrior's mind snapped. Rage took him, and he lunged forward, grabbing the hilt of the knight's sword, drawing it up and striking with all his might.

The knight blocked with the hilt of the ruined blade, and with the broken blade in his other hand, stabbed at the side of the young warrior. The blade easily penetrated the youth's peasant attire, and pain shot up to merge with the anger swelling in the young warrior's mind.

The youth, now very enraged, let out a passionate battle cry, shattering glasses behind the bar with nothing more than his scream. The knight cringed and tried his best to defend against the furious strikes of the young warrior. The knight's own blade soon made short work of him.

When the battle was finished, the young warrior stood, panting over the body of the fallen knight. As his senses returned, he began to laugh. He had won! All his training had told him there was no way he could have done so, but he had!

The young warrior took up his father's broken sword, and set out to find a healer and a smith, to reforge his legend anew, for now he had been taught a lesson he had never conceived possible:

Passion for what you do can yeild the greatest of strengths.