I have crowned heroes, Decorated generals, Sold illusions, And clarified lies. Some chase me their entire lives. Some earn me for a job well done. Some print me beside conditions they hope you'll ignore. Yet every morning, One of my kind rises without applause. What am I?

I swallow rivers, vast and deep, My layered walls, ancient secrets keep. What am I, where echoes sleep?

From medieval fears to farmers’ woes, my shadow falls wherever it goes.

Where iron binds and hope wears thin, a place where few escape once in.

A sailing ship, used for war and trading, remove an e and I'm a unit of liquid capacity.