The sky was cloudless, the wind blowing over the grassy plains. The golden stalks of grass waving gently in the wind. It was calm, and serene. Then up on the faint horizon, a small company of horse-men crested the hill, they were heading south down the croftlands of Eastemnet, in two by five formed line.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
The sun set on the small group of riders as they engaged in setting up a quick camp for the night. The men of the Mark sat around their sturdy campfire and sung songs in low voices as they ate their dinner. Then all at once, the voices roared to a thunderous choir, that made the chill of the night air disappear and fil the men of the camp with a sudden rush of energy. As the night hours went on, the voices of the eorlings faded out, as the men retired. Only one sentry placed around the camp, kept the large fire burning for the warmth of his comrades.
A rider's horse suddenly reared with a cry bucking him off. Shocked at the behavior, the eorling put up little resistance. A gasp escaped as his back slammed into something solid. Régnwald had immediately drawn his sword as one of the horsemen shouted the eorling's name in alarm. He winced when he noticed an arrow protruding from the stallion's chest. Before he could give the rider or his horse another thought, orcs burst from behind the rocks, brandishing their swords. Still, the captain moved closer to fallen rider to protect him, not knowing if he had been hurt, and not wanting to take the chance.
The orcs were upon them. The two fought side by side as the orcs came at them one after another. The rest eight had already charged the herd with a cry, "King, Clan and Country!" and whinnyings of the horses accompanied them.
Aescwine ran straight through the middle of the orcs and ducked the swings of their axes and swords. The eorling right of him brought his axe above his head and smashed down into the temple of the orc, opening the entire right side of his skull. Guthmund raised his arm in the air and dropped down onto the chest of the orc with his sword, burying the spike into his heart.
Orc archer heard the rapid trampling of a horse coming at him and looked up as Régnwald's sword hacked into his throat, throwing the filthy orc back as blood shot out of his neck like a geyser. The horsemen turn around as the remaining orcs charge at them. As the horses approach them, the remaining orcs drops back as warmaster spinned around with his spear sticking out from him, slicing the front legs off the horse, throwing the Eorlings off their horses and making them land face first with a hard thud. Warmaster ran to the downed riders and stabbed one through the back of his spine and out his abdomen and walked to the next and took his claymore over head and swang down, cutting his head in half horizontally.
Régnwald rode up from behind them and swang his sword once more, burying the thin head into the back of the last orc's head. Seeing the warmaster for the first time, he decided to dismount his horse. One of the horsemen grabbed his bow and arrow and fired, but the orc stepped aside and chopped the arrow in half in midair.
Régnwald ran at the him and ducked under a big swing and tried to stab him in the leg but the warmaster jumped back. He brought his sword above his head and drove the point at Régnwald, who rolled out of the way and left the shield he found in the battlefield. The claymore went through it and into the ground. He lifted his sword but the shield was now stuck to the sword and he swang the sword to get it off but it continued to stay. Régnwald rose to his feet and charged at the orc leader, but was met by a slash across the abdomen, cutting through his lamellar and into his flesh. Régnwald wobbled back and saw the orc leader took the shield off his sword and flinged it aside.
He and the orc stared at eachother for a long time before they charged at eachother again. Warmaster thrusted his sword forward as they come within range of eachother, but Régnwald juked right and grasped his sword in his right hand and slashed backhanded at Warmaster, slicing his throat open. The warmaster dropped to his knees and held at his throat as blood flew like a river from his cut throat. Régnwald walked behind him and grabbed his sword with two hands and brought it back for a swing let his swing fly. His sword cut smoothly through the rest of his intact neck and his head popped a few feet in the air and landed on the ground in front of the now slumped over corpse. Régnwald picked up the orc leader's head and tied the hair to the strap of his horse's saddle.
They buried the four fallen horsemen in a way pertaining to their ends, with their swords in their hands and spears by their side; and they piled the orc carcasses and burned them. Gramlic was waiting for him closeby, Régnwald removed the banner of the King from his saddle and tipped it between the burialplace. Then they rode off, as the black smoke reached high to the air in that bright morning.
Screenshot was taken by the player of Eohilda.
