Training

The sounds of steel clashing together rang out in the yard, with the many boys shouting as they fought one another. It was a warm afternoon in Pelargir, and everyone was sweating and panting as they trained with their swords.

The band had set out from Bree after meeting at the Mess Hall, Fiontann explained to them that they were going out in the fields to train in real conditions. "Many have big mouths, it's time to see what they have." he said and sent everyone outside to get on their horses.

After a long time, Fiontann decided to go to the Prancing Pony instead of staying at the Order's Barracks to plan the upcoming training. He took some parchments, a quill and a small bottle of ink and the map he was studying the last time where he marked the known locations of bandits and orcs. He took his jar of ale and sat at the furthest table in the inn, he came there not to not be disturbed, he came as he did in the old days. His gaze fell on the map and his eyes darted from one mark to the other, all red Xs on different spots on the map.

Another late night found Fiontann awake, [[Anriett] was sleeping soundly and he took a walk outside of the house, as far as the Halls of  the Order and back, before remaining outside to swing his sword for some moments, to see how good he could support his weight on his still injured foot. One way or the other he could fight if necessary, but still it was a little early to pursue a fight.

As The woman left out for hunting the others decided to have the training fight as she asked them. Both of them started to talk about the basics of combat as there was not much time left before the leaving. The hobbit seemed to be frightened as she thought about fighting the others, especially her companions who were "so kind to her". 

Régnwald walked along the edge of Stangard village, looking over...

...some Eorlings making adjustments to their weapons, one mending his jerkin, another whittling a fish from wood.

He passed an old shed, only to find Thorkel on the other side, kissing a young Stangard widow.

Régnwald watched a moment more than he otherwise might briefly transfixed, he turned away then continued on over to a field, where Hondscioh and Elfgast were practising sword-play.

„When the wolves of Angamando tear your flesh apart and break your bones, and devour your intestines you will think about me, Macilvelco, Yonya. You will understand my words… but it will be too late by then.“