Brulk felt as though the sky was folding around him, the swollen pink colour of Agaumar's swamps merged with the air around him giving an awful feeling of closeness.
"Nice day for it." said Khelem Dur, weighing a javelin in his paw-like hands.
"Right y'are." Mutter Brulk, not so sure such a day could exist. Funny, he reckoned. Growing up, he'd heard the tales o' Khelem Dur. A man so brave he'd finished all the heroes work in the deeps beyond Garth Agarwen. Now the veteran stood beside Brulk, and instead o' dishing out the orders looked to Brulk for 'em. Those are the times, he reckoned.
Down below 'em stood about a half dozen crews, and to their North and West another two packs o' the same. They'd been tasked with the Southern walls of Barad Dhorn. Half decent walls too, by Brulk's eye. Crafting long ago 'fore even Half-Teeth's knowing, though the old boy claimed to offered a tip or two to the fella's tasked with building the thing.
The skies had begun to take on an iron grey shade as Gremk came a-calling. Out of breath, and about ready to piss himself. Nothing much different there. "Chief!" he called, pulling up beside Half-teeth. "Scouts o' ours claim the Eglain are heading along the Red Pass." Happy as can be, Mulk emerged from the corner he'd been lurking, long knife and cleaver in his hands. "Weapons?" his piercing voice asked. Brulk nodded, hefting his shield from the battlements and his sword from it's sheath. "More'n likely our friends o' the dirt'll show up.." grumbled Khelem, standing close to Brulk. "More'n likely you'll do somethin' daft and end up with 'em.." A smile crept up Khelem's cheeks, and his palm found it's way around Brulk's shoulder. "More'n likely I dont have to say this, but dont go joining 'em lad." Aye.. He nodded.
"Here they come!" shouted a voice from below.
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A sword whipped past Brulk's face, attached to the arm of some ugly bastard by Brulk's reckoning. The second swing bounced of his shield, and the Eglain stumbled to keep his footing. Brulk took his moment and wedged his blade through the soft of his belly, bashing his corpse from his sword with the blunt of his shield. The walls, good as Brulk reckoned 'em, turned out to be shit when ladders are propped against 'em. Eglain lads had flooded over the Southern wall faster than a gaggle of whores on a merchant's purse. He could see Khelem and a couple o' his crew further back. More'n likely Khelem's warcry scaring enough of 'em to death 'fore his sword arm got chance.
Brulk edged backwards, keeping himself in the company of other Creoth. Last thing he wanted was to end up surrounded with his crew on the wrong end of the battlefield to him. A spear lurched at him, but crunched vainly against his shield. A lad about a half-head taller than Brulk followed after the receeding spear, and plunged his axe through the poor bastards skull. Those were the times, Brulk reckoned. One mistake and you're back in the dirt. He'd made more'n his fair share of 'em himself, He reckoned. Maybe this was how he'd find his way to the dirt. More'n likely, It wouldnt be anything so simple.
