The Black Steel

It was after the market a week ago that I noticed some of my works were beginning to be missing from my stock. I hadn't noticed until the raid upon the lumber-camp some few days ago. A group of brigands encamped in the Chetwood came upon us like a pack of mongrels. I grabbed my axe and charged out the door, dazed in the midst of it while I struggled to realize what was happening. A man in leather had come upon me, I jabbed my elbow into his gut and hit him with the blunt point of my axe.

The desert was not what she was expecting to see. The sands were gusting around her, nearly blinding her as she held her hand up. Which was odd; she remembered losing her left hand after a battle, yet here it was. Before, she was also in the snowy lands in Rohan, looking into something strange.

Day …… (in Bree)

It has been a couple weeks since the fighting in Eaworth. Lieta hated being in bed again. Athlenah and Kemendil were around to help but she was usually left in the care of the hosts. She memorized the patterns of the wooden ceiling during the time, as she really didn’t have much else to do. Her shoulder ached; her left arm was killing her. The only good thing that staying in bed did was give her knee the much needed rest. She wondered where Gaeded and Phaewyn were, though.

The remaining townsfolk gathered behind the line of fighters. Even without understanding a word, Phaewyn knew what was happening. The fighters retreated slowly, everyone pressing towards the doors, with a few combattants in front of them, pushing the wooden gates open. A couple of them slipped outside, readying themselves on the other side of the doors, to push them closed afterwards. It was going to be difficult. They had to be fast, to slip out before they were chased. Phaewyn leaned a bit against the boy she had deemed a friend, sword in her uninjured arm.

From atop a watchtower, her arrows flew, one after the other, doing their small share of lessening the storm of orcs swarming the town.
Fo’ Ath.
Fo’ Gae.
Fo’ Lieta.
Fo’ Kim-somethin’.

Fo’ Big Bear.

Fo’ Tess.

Death!

Gæded's heart raced as she stood before the closed gate. It was coming. These men, these soldiers, would fight for their home. So would she.

Death!

She felt slightly afraid, but she did not let it show. She was one of the eorlingas. She had to be brave.

Death!

She looked around her, at the men. Their golden hair glinted in the sunlight and their eyes sparkled with fear, excitement and determination. She felt those feelings too - she was not alone.

Death!

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.