Ethelweard

Régnwald opened his eyes after what seemed like winters to him. A grim, worried expression growing in his lined features as he turned to gaze upon the maiden. What has she said, he thought. A hand finding the moisted rag embracing his chest, and he once attempted to study his wound, a deep sigh of pain following, which would mayhap be enough for Faerhild to wake up if she had not.

Faerhild lies in the bed, pale as milk, her face decorated by a thick layer of sweat and a collection of violet bruises. She trembles in fever, although it is evident she is awake as she hums an ancient lullaby. The one they sing to children to ward off death during nights. Her voice trembles in the tunes, although she seems persistent on continuing. Perhaps afraid of dying.

Aeschere charged the first orc with an insane fury. He bashed his face with his shield, knocking him out of his way. He then clashed his sword with the other orc, breaking his sword in half and slashing his flesh. He swings and bashes as the orcs throw themselves against him, only to be hewn aside with missing limbs and gushing blood.

Faerhild charged against one of the orcs, bashing him with her shield, to block him from seeing her incoming sword that went to study his black guts.

The company of warriors was lead deeper within the mountains, through a small ravine. By the path that Faerhild unfailingly followed ran a small stream. Soon though the road ahead would become steep, requiring to climb up the frozen now formations of the rocks. It's been a good six hours of hiking and climbing up the mountain until the company made it to the top of the mountain. No sun would shine and the sky was grey, it should be noon soon. As you peek around the last of the trees a wide plateau is revealed in front of you.

A winding path laid ahead of the band of Eorlings, following the route to a frozen now little stream. One could not see much of its final destination but it would take them up hill and toward the mountain. Recently fallen snow has made passage even more difficult, their steps more unsure, as unstable and treacherous terrain awaits hiding under a piles of pure white snow. Trails or tracks were also covered under the snow.