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Tell me. Do you know why it is that the sword, above all else, be celebrated as the weapon of the warrior?
The bow is better for striking down a foe at range, and the dagger if they be overly close. The hammer is better for crushing mail and bone, and the axe for hewing limbs and striking with might. The spear and the halberd and all such polearms are better for ranks of soldiery, and the fist be best of all for subduing an enemy without causing overmuch hurt.
Lotherwen had already finished the day, she thought. Getting comfortable in the prancing pony after another day of work with her acquaintance Ronalda and a stranger she had not met before, Gungur, a dwarf from the Lonely Mountain. It was an evening like many before it, until a fellow with plants all over his clothes appeared. Singing and humming he introduced himself and his intention: to travel to Hengstacer Farm, post-haste!
Angrinc sat, and the fruits of his labour were scattered about him. He glanced toward his mailed gauntlets, soaked in blood and gore, shaking in terror even now that the danger had passed. He could feel the pounding of his heart, each fierce beat both a welcome relief and cruel reminder of the terror he had felt scarce minutes before.
Once the horns sounded one last time, and the shouts of battle had slowly died out to an eerie silence, the danger was at long last over. The stress, fear and anxiety of the townspeople ended, though emotions still ran wild and rampant amongst them.
Young Ethel, old Agnes, Hearrd and others, who had taken refuge inside the meadhall, could finally come out and breathe the open air again. They were still alive, and the town was safe. For now.
Denholm, Thilwend and a couple of guards inspect the fields north of Bancross, the morning after the battle had ended. Many lives were lost, though only a few of those were brave rohirrim. Such is the nature of war; for it makes corpses of men, and widows of women. Their names will be remembered and honored by the living, who would not be living still, were it not for the bravery and sacrifice of the fallen.
((The kin members do not feel happy continuing writing the series of battles in this planned story line at the moment, due to world events. This is a short winding up of the tale so far. Others may post their summary as well. Further writing after the summaries will focus on more peaceful matters. ))
I stared up at the sky and the pale light of morning that was threatening to chase away the dark. The battle had been fought hard, and I was at the other side of it, broken but victorious. Even now I could feel my life force leaving me, painting these lands beneath my body with my blood. Pain lanced through my body, and even breathing was difficult, made more so by the poison slowly seeping into my blood. These would be my last breaths, and at that moment I could only wish for more time.