Everybody talks a big game about storming the Master’s castle with torches dipped in pitch, holding whatever crude weapons we can gather, but come the day it’s nothing but: “I’d love to go, but the Master’s dark flying minions have already plucked away my family for parts unknown and now I’m busy mourning them and clawing at the dirt floor of my home hoping it will swallow me” or “I’m all out of torches right now, sorry… I thought I had at least one left, but I just looked and… nope”.
Typical.