Thud. Thud. Thud. Time and again, the sound came in bursts of three from somewhere in the shadows of the Bree prison, in the area where the training dummies were kept.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Each time the vicious-looking axe hit home, the dull sound of metal upon leather-enforced wood filled the area.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Overhead to the right, overhead to the left, a clean cleave right through the middle.
