It was a day like any other for Fiontann, he was sitting somehow apart from the Company, but kept his on them, as well as the townsfolk, he was expecting an attack on Eaworth any day, after his Company burned the orc encampment. They were all there, together, around the fire, talking, he was next to a house, sitting on a stump of a tree, holding a jar full of ale, as always. That’s what he was doing lately, a little before they embarked on this long and dangerous journey and more often after he gave the leadership to his adopted daughter Lieta, he was sitting alone, observing and drinking. If he’d see himself from the outside he’d say he was crazy, he was acting a little crazy sometimes as of late after all. He was feeling restless though, he haven’t had a serious fight for some time and he longed for one, he wasn’t at the raid that day, he missed out, as he did miss out on a lot of things lately. He lifted the jar to his lips to take a sip when he saw Gaeded almost discreetly running away form the group, he raised a brow and waited, the others kept on talking like nothing happened. Soon the young Rohirrim returned, telling them that an army of orcs was marching to Eaworth, they planned fast and ran to their posts. Fiontann stood up, took one more sip and put the jar on the stump, he walked hastily to the stable where his horse was, he took the reins from the post, in case he had to call Hedinn, his horse and took a big sack that was on the ground on the outside of the stable. He went in a quiet place between some tents and changed, he put on the armour that he wore as a sellsword, a black chainmail jacket with the trousers, a heavy shoulderpiece on his left shoulder and the crimson helmet that saved him from that Angmarim that struck him with an axe on the face in Annuminas, where he went to fight alongside the Rangers and was injured at the Battle of Tyl Annun.
Once out of the main gate of Eaworth, Fion charged on foot at the orcs, with shield and sword alongside some of the guards. They manage to repel that first charge and prepared for the second, against more orcs this time but with the defence ready as well. The bodies of orcs and men collided moments later, green-clad Rohirrim against the black, muddy orcs, with Fiontann inbetween in his black armour, standing out with the crimson helmet. This time the attack lasted longer and the defenders scattered while fighting, all around him the Bree-lander could see orcs, orcs hitting, orcs falling, orcs everywhere, and him in the middle, swinging his sword, falling many, while defending himself. For some moments he reunited with some guards and the four of them charged, breaking hard the line of the orcs. It was getting harder to breathe as orcs and men were standing and fighting almost adjacent to each other, with room barely enough to swing a sword to stab someone and the fight kept going. Fiontann enjoyed it, under his crimson helmet he felt his blood run hot, making him feel alive as he was slaying those foul creatures alongside honourable allies, he managed to save one or two from deadly hits and he was saved once or twice from hits from the back. A sudden hit on his back made him lose his breath and as he turned to hit he noticed a small party of orcs, the so-called Uruks coming from along the river towards the weak spot on the palisade on the back of the village. Fion stabbed his attacker and turned in front of him only to see another orc coming to hit him, he turned his shield horizontally and hit the orc squarely in the face, straight in the eyes, dropping it dazed. He turned and ran towards the gate and whistled!
Some brief moments later Hedinn appeared, galloping hard towards his master and Fiontann stepped on the left stirrup, swinging his right leg over the horse’s back, only to land on the saddle and gallop fast towards the incoming orcs. He galloped as fast as he could towards them, they were next to some bushes, near two or three trees, a little before getting close FIon released his left foot from the stirrup and prepared to kick the first Uruk on the left and to swing his sword for the one on the right, two or three metres behind the first. When he was pulling his sword back another orc appeared from behind the tree wielding a greataxe and swung it straight into Hedinn’s neck. The poor horse fell and the only reason that Fion managed to jump off and roll away from the falling horse before it got on him was because he took his foot of the stirrup moments earlier. He rolled three or four times away from the ors, in a safe distance and the moment he got to his feet he saw two of them cutting the horse’s head off, the horse that was his loyal companion for years now. FIon growled angrily and slammed the sword against his shield, tilting his head to the right, full of anger for the murder of his horse. The orcs laughed and ran at him, Fion blocked the hit with his shield and stabbed the first Uruk with his sword, straight in the heart, it fell to his feet and Fion turned to swing against the second, which used its axe defensively and blocked FIon’s attack, then kicked him back. Fion staggered back but managed to catch his breath and keep his balance, he swung his sword again, slashing the belly of an orc before a spear of another at his side slashed against his leg, making him struggle not to kneel. He took some steps back, towards the water and looked at them, his eyes under the helmet gleaming with anger and bloodlust! He ran holding his shield up, keeping his sword between it and his body, but supporting the shield with his right hand and pushed two of the back, only to gain some time to fight with the one that struck his horse first. The orc swung its greataxe and Fion blocked, once more supporting the shield with his right hand against the Uruks great strength and kicked it back, in an attempt to gain his footing and breath.
Once he managed to stay up and prepare for another attack he felt two consecutive stinging blows to his left arm and shoulder, he looked and saw two arrows stuck there, the orcs that he pushed away had shot at him. He lost his footing for a moment and used his right hand to support himself, not letting go of his sword, the Uruk with the greataxe saw the opportunity and charged against Fion who was on his right knee. He lifted it high and dropped it with all its strength on the man, Fion lifted his shield with what strength he was left these moments after he got hit by the arrows and the shield broke in two, his hand being saved only by the circling metallic part around the handle. Another arrow was shot, this one found him on the left side, next to his now dropped hand, Fion grunted in pain and tried to get up swinging his sword blindly to keep the Uruk with the greataxe at bay,, but he was stopped as the blade of a spear made its way into his right thigh, forcing him on his knees, in pain. A hit that he never saw broke his sword and he threw it, he heard it hit something metallic and then he felt a hit on the right side of his helmet, turning his head to the left and he started falling back, into the water. He looked up at the sky while falling backwards, he saw an axe behind him, a smaller one, held by an Uruk behind him, when his head reached the height of his shoulders the axe started falling. Some fifteen or twenty inches before hitting the ground the axe dropped on his face, he never felt it hit him, he fell backwards into the water and his body was carried away by the stream. The next thing that he felt was that he was no longer in the water, gravity had its way as he started falling from the waterfall.
The last thing that he felt was the air escaping his lungs violently, as did the blood from his wounds and he saw the faces of his friends and daughter rush in front of his eyes, Lieta, Gaeded, Athlenah, Phaewyn, Valindal, Sigfread, Neyaa, Taala, Rossethorr, Nimeway, Orsonn, Arthasdir Khalis, Hyrien, Ardeghon, Eroforth, Cerriel, Rosybell, Hardoleth, Cyliad, Rothrian, Sparrow, Anriett and many others as his body travelled with the river...
