[Novnarwen]

"Halt!"

They halted.

Frôzhal let his gaze wander around and about. They were armed and ready. A feeling of distaste about the whole battle made Frôzhal's stomach turn. He couldn't care less about this settlement. He knew that there was a great possibility that he would never survive this attack, even though he was a great warrior. He shook his head, changing his mind; of course he would survive, and the whole Gondorian army would probably be wiped out. They would die like flies. The Haradrim tried to think positively, as a bunch with dead flies frightened him. Did he want this? It didn't matter. It would come anyway. The battle would take place, no matter what. This didn't depend on him. He was nothing but a solider with a platoon. It was indeed useless to think like this, as he couldn't control anything. The sooner they were wiped out, the better, he thought reluctantly.

He felt the sun in his neck, making him as uncomfortable as possible. Frôzhal hated the sun, and especially now. Letting the sun go to the soldier’s nerves just before a battle was not wise. However, he didn't seem to notice anyone else feeling this way.

The Poros settlement too, was bathed in the sun. It was not a very big settlement, or so Frôzhal thought. It would be difficult, nevertheless, to bring it down. The walls, just in front of them, were stout, strong and quite tall. Clearly the catapults would be a useful tool in this battle. After they had used their catapults and the wall had fallen, it would be possible to really attack the settlement itself. He wondered what was behind the walls; how many men were there? How did it look like? And how it would look like after they had put it to ruin. It was difficult to imagine this, but all the same easy.

When the battle broke out, the settlement would be filled with men fighting for their lives. He imagined the sound of steal against steal, the archers letting it rain arrows and spearmen running into each other piercing the other's flesh. Battle cries of pain and despair and orders would be heard, but no one really listened. To you it would be fainter than an echo, even though you were so near.

After the battle, when the Haradrim had won, The Poros Settlement would probably burnt to the ground. And then rain would come, and turn out the fire and the Settlement would be lost and maybe forgotten.