Deorling min Hunor,
I awoke this morning to the roaring of battlecries and the sound of crashing steel and the start that this gave me as my head cleared of dreams caused me to tumble from the narrow bench that I must call a bed. Tangled amongst my beds sheets I rested on the cold flagstones, waiting until the last of the night had been driven from my head by the ongoing storm of shouts and bangs.





