[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Evren slept still, exhausted through and through. She did not feel the child stirring at her side, nor hear the voices of the men around her. She knew, vaguely, that when she woke she would need to tell them where Donlamir and Pherdur were, why the child was with her, that they needed to rescue the villagers... but for now she would not, could not. Then her sleep deepened still more, not letting her think at all. Dreamless sleep of exhaustion. And then, perhaps a few hours later, she woke, hearing something...

She took in the scene around her with some surprise. She was lying on the ground still, and still drowsy, but everything around her had changed. It was night-time already, and the men all stood alert, except for Fededhor, looking at another man standing at the edge of the clearing. He was not one of them... but he and Fededhor were staring at each other with an expression that she could not place. And then it was too late to think about anything more, for she heard the unmistakable sound of orcs coming their way... everybody grabbed their swords. Evren was about to take up her own when she realized, suddenly, that the boy was still with her. She picked him up and ran swiftly into the woods. He would be safer there... a sick child had no chance between fighting orcs and men. She took him out a bit, and put him down on the ground, grunting slightly with the effort of having carried him this far. He moved a bit, and she noticed only then that his eyes were open. She smiled at him distractedly and told him, with no time for explainantions, to stay there until she returned. But as she ran back to the clearing, she glanced back, and saw him rushing into the trees... and there seemed to be a group of children waiting for him there. Evren rubbed her eyes but had no time to go back, as she knew that the orcs were coming. Her breath came in ragged pants as she picked up her sword and stood next to the other men, waiting for the fight. The new man was standing next to Fededhor, she noted...

Then the orcs burst out of the trees and were upon them. Her fighting discipline was gone, everything she had been taught... she merely swung her sword at the orcs, cleaving heads, receiving cuts herself, ignoring it all... it seemed to her that the tide of the battle was in their favor, for the amount of orcish bodies around her and the others, as well as the red shade of the grass, grew and grew, but then it turned again... she saw a man fall with a groan, then another. Then the new man, fighting next to Fededhor, dropped with an arrow in his throat. Fededhor looked agonized... She tried to go on ignoring things, but couldn’t, for seeing orcs die was one thing... seeing the same happen to men was another matter.

Then her eyes fell, for suddenly there were many orcs around her, hewing with their axes. She almost dropped her sword as her hand was cut, blood spewing. She tried to switch to her other hand, but then she faltered, for one of the dead mens’ eyes were turned to her, and they held a terrified expression which she echoed instantly in a scream of despair, as she saw more men falling, falling... she picked up speed again a moment later, but it was too late. The axes moved too fast. It was only by a bit, but it was enough... each inch she stepped back, every dodge she didn’t-quite-accomplish, every neck she didn’t-quite-hew- they were losses, and they showed. So when the last axe caught her in the arm, making her fall, she would have been almost relieved had it not been for the terrible pain of her leaving strength, and the terrible need to retch at seeing a part of her body separate from the rest... she could not breathe next, for a stone was thrown down at her stomache, knocking the wind out of her. She lay in a puddle of rusty red, gritting her teeth, trying not to yell or be sick, but could not help herself. Her dying scream echoed through the clearing, achingly pained expression showing through in the sound. But she was forgotten, and she watched in agony as the others writhed, but were given quick deaths... and as she died, her last thought was about the unacomplished dream of reclaiming the city.