~~~A Tale of Old Friends~~~
As a young, freshly recruited Blince rode into battle, his hand clenched tightly over his spear. His gaze flashing all around at the scenery and people screaming, crying and yelling seemingly all at once as a battle of Dunlander and Rohirrim took place. Off in the distance, shortly ahead of himself, he saw Rohdain – His closest friend, and brother by bond and arms – Riding ahead of him. He saw his horse, which he remembered had the name of Gwyn, fall. And his friend followed. He sharply pulled on the reigns of his horse with his left hand, his right keeping his spear raised. He aimed the horse vaguely in his direction, and spurred it quickly onwards to race towards his fallen brother.
Rohdain fell off of his horse, after counting two Dunlanders having met his spear. All that he could take in at that moment was that his horse was atop his legs, and he couldn’t get to anything to defend himself. He looked around wildly, a few Dunlanders coming towards him with the intention of ending him, and they fell due to the storm of arrows being sent by another ally – Though he knew these would only keep them at bay for so long. Once the arrows stopped, and on Dunlander limped towards him, he closed his eyes and waited for death. Though death seemed to come for the wrong person.
Blince kept riding, his spear on the wrong side for him to stop the Dunlander. He took in a deep breath, and leapt of his horse, allowing it to gallop away as he sent the spear into the limping Dunlander’s chest. He fell, not dead, but not getting up either. He then gripped the horse and slowly lifted it up enough for Rohdain to crawl out. He then let down the Horse, and frowned, standing slowly. He then fell, feeling a sharp gauntleted fist hitting his leg as he fell. As he opened his eyes after the collision, he saw a sword swing in vain, and then fall down in front of him. He briefly looked left, seeing his crawling ally having slammed a knife into the enemy’s leg. He pressed himself up, and left forward to wrap an arm around the Dunlander’s head and slowly choke him out – not being strong enough to actually break his neck.
He then stumbled up, hastily whistling for his horse, which eventually trotted over. He helped his friend up, retrieved his spear, and hopped on his horse to flee back to the base-camp.
This story, along with many others, is what brings these two old allies together. Friendship tested with steel, happenstance and blood. Standing against the test of time. Brothers in arms, until the arms are no more.
