[ WP ] `` How 'd you get that scar ? ''

The fog swirled in mysterious patterns, lit up by the soft insistence of the full moon overhead. The world took on a ghostly hue at this hour, exacerbated by the fog that crept in when the wind shifted over the bay every evening. 
 
 In the muted evening, two sentries did their rounds along the outer wall. After noting the stillness of the surroundings, they met together at a small table they had set up behind one of the battlements. 
 
 `` Quiet night.'' 
 
 `` You best hope it stays that way.'' 
 
 `` Aye, but its easier to stay awake in the other.'' the younger man smiled wryly, pleased by his own humor. His compatriot snorted, and got out their deck and started shuffling. Dealing out the required 10 cards, he started their nightly game. As he reached to discard one of his cards, the older man felt his companion's curious eyes on his hand and arm, or rather the crisscross of scars that laced up and down them. 
 
 The younger man made his play. As he set down one of his cards, he looked up hesitantly. Looking back down, he swallowed as he drew his required card. 
 
 `` Wondering about the scars?'' the older man said gruffly. 
 
 `` Well, I could n't help but notice...'' 
 
 `` Every newbie does.'' 
 
 `` Well, how did you get them? Was it the rebels? Did you really fall off the battlements? Were you tortured in the Scribes Revolt?'' The older man laughed. 
 
 `` You've been listening to too many tales son. Truth is I just have awful luck. It was a combination of falling off of the battlements, through the trees on the eastern side, and a rebel attack. Trees caused these'' Here he traced the long scars on his arms. `` arrow caused this one,'' He indicated a star shaped scar on his bad hand, `` and this was some hot shot rebel who wanted to say he'd killed one of us.'' he indicated a spot near his shoulder which was covered by his uniform. 
 
 `` Ouch.'' the younger guardsman winced in sympathy. He stared at his cards for a moment, then looked up again. 
 
 `` If that's all it was, how come nobody else knows the real story?'' 
 
 *Smarter than usual, this one. * Thought the older sentry. He just smiled though, and put down his card again. 
 
 The wind shifted again, pulling loose the grip the heavy fog had on the estate. The moon now aided their game. The veteran put out the lamp he had placed on the table earlier. He never needed it after this time of night. He looked up, and noticed a slightly vacant expression on his companion's face. Smiling sadly to himself, he put down another card. 
 
 `` Gin.'' he laid out his cards, showing his victory. The younger guardsman looked confused, then ruefully tallied up his penalty. As he was shuffling the cards, he glanced at the criss-cross of scars that laced the veteran's worn arms. 
 
 `` How'd you...?'' he motioned with his head at the veteran. 
 
 `` How did I what?'' the veteran said. 
 
 `` How'd you get those scars?''
