This is my rock. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My rock is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me, my rock is useless. Without my rock, I am useless. I must swing my rock true. I must farm more than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must kill him with my rock before he kills me. My rock and I know that what counts in war is not the swings we take, the noise of our beatings, nor the dent we make. We know that it is the farm that counts. My rock is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, and its strengths. I will keep my rock repaired and ready, even as I am prepared and ready. We will become part of each other. Before God, I swear this creed. My rock and I are the defenders of my clan. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life. So be it, until victory is the clan's and there is no enemy, but peace!