[Subroutine] The Runner cannot make another run this turn.
There he drew forth the brand Excalibur, rAnd o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon,rBrightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forthrAnd Sparkled keen with frost against the hilt:rFor all the haft twinkled with diamond sparks,rMyriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth workrOf subtlest jewellery. -Lord Tennyson