part

Chapter Three: On laughing

 

And so, Harkmorn's bodyguard unit, as one, were mentioned. Their size, larger than Harkmorn's, their weaponry, far superior when noted that Harkmorn was prohibited from carrying any form of harmful object - be it a pen, or an axe, and their mentality, greater... For Harkmorn's past "wisdom" had been lost to his insanity, as noted in previous writings.

 

I'm sitting next to Herdo while writing this. Clearly he's dead, got an arrow in his throat. He was a fine steed, and I wish I had time to bury him. Alot of other dead horses too, a few on top of their riders, but a few of the corpses are still visible. Lots of Dunlending. Lots of them, all over the place. I wish that meant we'd won, but it doesn't. If we had, I wouldn't be sitting here, and all these corpses would be in a mound. I guess I was knocked out. My helmet's dented, so I must've fallen from Herdo, been knocked out and been left. Must've thought I'd died.