Eorlsmead

I roamed trough gorges until time stopped to exist, as unrelenting force of justice and self grievance. My shield is splintered and spearhead is dulled with each thrust in guts of the goblins and orcs. I am tired, very tired. 

Resting now under the hollow tree, by the great Langflood, i see myself as carpace of what I was before. And I am content, nothing of little worth shall stay with me to my timely end. 

Langhund raised up and down in the saddle as Hrimfell, donned in armour of leather and chain with pouches and satchels upon his back along with his rider, trotted swiftly down the dirt path. A glimpse of light came to the hunter's eye, as he spotted a fire near a tree followed with tents falling into his view next. He rode forth, sending a hail as he called out. "Westhu!"