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Old 06-24-2015, 04:24 PM   #11
Nogrod
Flame of the Ainulindalë
 
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Join Date: Jan 2006
Location: Wearing rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves in a field behaving as the wind behaves
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Nogrod is wading through the Dead Marshes.Nogrod is wading through the Dead Marshes.Nogrod is wading through the Dead Marshes.Nogrod is wading through the Dead Marshes.Nogrod is wading through the Dead Marshes.Nogrod is wading through the Dead Marshes.
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Cnebba, Garmund and Leodthern

Cnebba, Garmund and Leodthern were searching for any vegetation revealed under the snow that could be used as food a bit farther away from the Hall when Leodthern first heard the voices. They all heard it soon enough.

“Someone’s coming! Athanar’s coming to save us!” Leodthern shouted.

Garmund looked at her little sister in dismay. “You wish”, he snorted but turned back to gaze where the road made a turn half a mile a way. They were all tense with excitement trying to hear and see anything that would relive them from the immediate fear of a false hope. And there it was, a sound of carts wheeling slowly towards them, the muttering of voices, the slow pounding of the hooves – and they were all coming closer. It was true! Someone were coming!

Suddenly the figure of Wilheard came from behind the corner riding proudly in front of a caravan spreading behind him. The three were speechless just watching the caravan spilling out into their view cart by cart, soldier by soldier – and whoever there were riding with them.

“We must tell dad, mom… everyone!” Cnebba yelled but Garmund was not reacting. He stared at Wilheard with his eyes fixed. “Garmund!” he yelled again pushing his arm but Garmund just shook his hand away his eyes still fixed on the convoy.

“Go Leodthern, go! Tell dad, tell mom, tell everyone! I’ll bring Garmund!”

Leodthern hesitated for a moment but obeyed. She ran towards the Hall as quick as her feet were able to carry her in the slippy sleet and snow still covering most of the forest.

“Garmund. We have to go.” Cnebba told his friend in an even more commanding fashion pulling him from the sleeve when Leodthern had gone. “C’mon Garmund, we’ll got to tell them.”

Garmund wrestled his arm free from Cnebba’s grip and turned sharply towards him.

“You go if you will. I’m going to stay until they come by. I want to see them.” With that he turned away from Cnebba once more.

Cnebba was hesitating. They should do things together, like they always did. But Garmund had fixed his eyes again to Wilheard leading the train and was clearly paying no heed to him.

Cnebba looked at his friend for a moment and then sighed. “Bah”, he breathed out and turned to run after Leodthern to break the news.

Garmund’s eyes were fixed on Wilheard. When he was a child he had feared lord Athanar and especially his sons. But he was no child anymore. And Wilheard was leading a van of supplies: grim-looking, strong and muscular in his bright armour, a seasoned warrior, an eorling in his prime…

Garmund would be like him one day, he knew it now. He would not be one who suffered the cold and famine. He would be one who relieved others from it, with a sword if need be. He’d protect the weak and suffering with action, not with sheepish resignation or vain labour that wouldn’t help his dearest to live. He swore it to himself then and there, his eyes still fixed on Wilheard who was riding ever closer to him.
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