battle

Pain shot trough the dwarves body, coursing from his legs, trough his lower back and all the way up to the very top of his head. The dwarf smiled, welcoming the sensation like an old friend. "So I am not dead yet", Dweri muttered and stumbled on his legs, gribbing the half-drawn greatsword on his back and drawing it out from it's sheath. Dweri winced, the sudden movement blurring his vision and filling it with bright flashes of light. Still he heard a bellowing to his right hand side and the cracking of twigs, root and stones under mighty limbs.

The Battle of Greenfields

I'll tell you a tale from times long ago
It must have been two hundred years or so
Hobbits lived happily, tilling their ground
And Michel Delving was not such a big town!

With birds singing softly in the tall trees
Grass in the fields swaying in a cool breeze
Nothing could disturb the peace of the Shire
Until the day Bounders caught sight of a fire

The wind tugged at the flames of the campfire, making them dance and cast shifting shadows behind the men sat around it. They were tightly wrapped in their cloaks and their faces hidden under hoods; despite the temperate weather, the unusually chilly wind made it feel like winter was coming. On the outskirts of the illuminated area, in the near darkness, stood horses. They looked around constantly, unnerved by something but maintaining the calm and discipline their masters required of them.