[Belin]

Bear pulled himself from the water and lay panting on the large, smooth, wet stones. His warm, red blood mingled with the muddied water and surged over the rocks, creating an ironically warm environment for the great man to lie in. His sodden wool tunic hung lankly to his prone form and he shivered as a wind shot over his bulk. Memories of the last few ill-fated hours shot through his weary mind. Things had appeared to go well for the hillmen, their initial attack seemed to be a complete surprise, and for a while the southerners were on the back foot.

The soft ground seems to echo as his feet pound into it. Through the smoke-haze around him he can feel the thundering voices of men, the screams of women and the crackle of flame; his senses seem inflamed and unruly. Like a poisoned beast he feels himself crash into man after man, filling the sodden night with showers of red. Screams resonate around his existence.

With a gasping intake of air, Bear regained consciousness.

Things had started to turn as the fight spilled out into the extents of the settlement and Bear found himself almost alone with only a few hillmen around him. Grasping a stone firmly in his palm, he struggled to stay conscious. Grasping for a thought to hold on to, his mind raced through his recent past. A face… long and unfamiliar…filling with sudden recognition…a sudden anger, burning at his chest… a tempest unleashed…

Bear had espied his adversary and immediately recognized him as his attacker. Further, ice-cold wrath had piled and squeezed itself into his existence and he had thrown himself further into the fray; further towards his foe. Then, in the midst of his glory, covered in the death of his foes, he found himself alone; dead hillmen lay by him, their blood flowing into and mingling with that of their dead enemies. An almost complete ring of southerners had been made about him, many of whom he recognized. The man he had encountered only days before stood there before him, panting and hunched in his weariness. Slowly the men advance upon Bear. The whirlwind of steel that ensued smote both helm and limb and soon the ring was broken. A fog had fallen upon his eyes and he only saw dim shapes.

Stumbling like a blind man, he had hacked his way through a gap in is opponents and out onto a patch of clear ground. Cold suddenly rushed up his legs and looking down, he realised he was knee-deep in the water of the lake. His foes still beat down upon him, their blood filling the cool water. Bear tired, he would not be able to continue to fight off so many attackers. Using a slight break in the melee, he dove into the frost-cold, murky water. Bear's numb fingers fumbled with the straps of his belt... with the fabric of his tunic...with the weight of his hauberk. Like fire in the scrub, aching pain rushed through Bear's lungs. Moonlight flickered through the brown water, turning the metal in his hands to gold. Relief seethed though his veins, like a cool breeze on a hot day, like drought-breaking rain, like sea crashing into a desert - the encumbering metal vest was off. Bear watched it as it fell heavily to the bottom. Clutching his axe firmly in his left hand, Bear pushed powerfully off into the inviting darkness of the water ahead.

So it was that he came to be lying unconscious on the bank of lake Evendim. Utterly exhausted, wounded and steaming, Bear clambered to his feet and strode off. Water dripped off his bulky form as it meandered towards the place he called home.