The real heroes were my good buddies who died during the battles.

I was sick. I guess I was about to crack up thinking about all my good buddies. They were better men than me and they're not coming back. Much less back to the White House, like me.

I am not a hero but the brave men who died deserved this honor.

They were all buried in different graves and now they're together with their buddies. They're my heroes.

Heroes win battles, survivors win wars.

All of us, together, are the unlovable, the unreformable. We, the people, who are deemed incapable of existing alongside society. But, we did just that in the forming of this guild. We have done more than simply build a place to sleep and eat and plan elaborate heists. We have found a place that we, at long last, belong. All of you remember how important that feeling was the first time you truly experienced it here… This guild is more than just an organization and a council and various members. To me, from the beginning, this guild has been a family. It is a place for people like us, the ones who had no place of their own. We made it ourselves, carved out a space in the world that we could call home.