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Description
Outside his home the rain came pouring down in sheets, even as he stared in to the flickering flames of the hearth, tossing another bit of wood to stoke it further. The memories of William's first battle alongside his best friend still hung heavily upon his mind, and the sound of the rain and the fire before him only served to stoke the memories as the firewood had done to the flames.

Every year each man owed forty days service to his Lord; expected to stand guard at castles or gates, help escort small caravans or messengers, help in border disputes or the like, or to be called up for battle, perhaps even longer if one's Lord offered compensation for time beyond those days. It was an excuse to get away from the field work for a time, to drink, to gamble, to generally just have a holiday in some ways. In other ways, the prospect of going to battle excited some, for the promise of plunder and the opportunity of actually bettering ones self, but seldom few stopped to consider the very real possibility that you might meet your end on one of these forty days. Surely that wouldn't happen, would it? The levies were expected to just stand around 'in case' they were needed, right?

Every assurance had been paid to William, Keith and the others that their position on the field was merely to protect a flank near to whatever nameless village they were closest to: 'You might get harassed by some horse, maybe a few stray arrows.. Keep your shields ready and your spears firm in your grasp and this will be over before you know it!' was what was told to them, never expecting a group of Mercenaries employed by the other side would be sent to try and break that flank, held by only the group of men William found himself with.

Whether it be by utter bravery, stupidity, or just not knowing what else to do William and his fellows held firm against the attack, meeting the professional soldiers as they closed. What followed was the stuff of nightmares, the sounds, sights and smells of battle swirling about them. "Just keep near me! We'll get through this!" William remembered crying to his dearest friend, always at his side through thick and thin, but something struck William in his helmet, dazing him as he sought to keep his footing and to press on.

While the skirmish between units was over in a matter of minutes, it had felt like an eternity at the time, veritable hours if not days going by with your heart pounding so hard you might feel it would tear itself from your chest. By some miracle the levies had managed to hold the Mercenaries at bay long enough for some of the Mounted Serjeants to come to their aid, and during that time the storm that had been lingering overhead finally made it's presence known: a great bolt of lightning setting alight an old dead tree and some of the grass near to it, the light and the smoke from the blaze adding to the scene of battle to make it something one might think to be likened to hell itself.

It was with the light of the fire that William saw Keith kneeling in the mud, dazed, almost 'not there' by how he refused to react to the shouts from his best friend, and for a moment William feared the worst, before noting the wheezing, twitching form of the man before the Deer, whose hatchet was firmly embedded in the man's rib cage. By whatever misfortune the man had not died from the blow, and was likely to lay there in anguish for some time before finally succumbing to his injury. Taking a breath, the Hyena moved to stand beside his friend and to watch over him, trying to ensure that none would come upon them in the chaos, even as the formation began to re-assemble near to the blazing tree.

"Keith, we need to get going." William said hoarsely, not having realized until that moment how hoarse his voice was from the yelling during the Melee. Glancing down to the sword still in his hand, held so tight he was afraid that his hand may never open again, and marveled at the blood upon it. How many had he struck down? He couldn't remember.

"Keith, it's time to go.." William said, yet soon realized he was talking to the smoldering embers of the flame in his hearth, giving off just enough light for the concerned visage of his mother to be seen, staring at him from the open doorway to the home, apparently having just come home from the market. She said nothing to him, only coming to embrace her son, to kiss him between his ears and to let her hand gently cup at the side of his face, a thumb brushing over the faint scar there upon him as she wandered past. "I'll get supper ready soon. Get the fire going again, Sweetiecub."

A simple nod came from him as he moved to stand. "I'll go get the wood."

Just when I thought that I'd seen everything, he blew away my expectations for the sequel to my previous image with this utter Masterpiece! The sheer unadulterated emotion felt in this image nearly brought me to tears. A grim Dichotomy if ever there was one referencing the image's prequel.

I'll be getting more work from him soon, so keep a look out~

This mad lad deserves all the support he can get. So get to it!

Geier's FA Page
Geier's Twitter

Description
Outside his home the rain came pouring down in sheets, even as he stared in to the flickering flames of the hearth, tossing another bit of wood to stoke it further. The memories of William's first battle alongside his best friend still hung heavily upon his mind, and the sound of the rain and the fire before him only served to stoke the memories as the firewood had done to the flames.

Every year each man owed forty days service to his Lord; expected to stand guard at castles or gates, help escort small caravans or messengers, help in border disputes or the like, or to be called up for battle, perhaps even longer if one's Lord offered compensation for time beyond those days. It was an excuse to get away from the field work for a time, to drink, to gamble, to generally just have a holiday in some ways. In other ways, the prospect of going to battle excited some, for the promise of plunder and the opportunity of actually bettering ones self, but seldom few stopped to consider the very real possibility that you might meet your end on one of these forty days. Surely that wouldn't happen, would it? The levies were expected to just stand around 'in case' they were needed, right?

Every assurance had been paid to William, Keith and the others that their position on the field was merely to protect a flank near to whatever nameless village they were closest to: 'You might get harassed by some horse, maybe a few stray arrows.. Keep your shields ready and your spears firm in your grasp and this will be over before you know it!' was what was told to them, never expecting a group of Mercenaries employed by the other side would be sent to try and break that flank, held by only the group of men William found himself with.

Whether it be by utter bravery, stupidity, or just not knowing what else to do William and his fellows held firm against the attack, meeting the professional soldiers as they closed. What followed was the stuff of nightmares, the sounds, sights and smells of battle swirling about them. "Just keep near me! We'll get through this!" William remembered crying to his dearest friend, always at his side through thick and thin, but something struck William in his helmet, dazing him as he sought to keep his footing and to press on.

While the skirmish between units was over in a matter of minutes, it had felt like an eternity at the time, veritable hours if not days going by with your heart pounding so hard you might feel it would tear itself from your chest. By some miracle the levies had managed to hold the Mercenaries at bay long enough for some of the Mounted Serjeants to come to their aid, and during that time the storm that had been lingering overhead finally made it's presence known: a great bolt of lightning setting alight an old dead tree and some of the grass near to it, the light and the smoke from the blaze adding to the scene of battle to make it something one might think to be likened to hell itself.

It was with the light of the fire that William saw Keith kneeling in the mud, dazed, almost 'not there' by how he refused to react to the shouts from his best friend, and for a moment William feared the worst, before noting the wheezing, twitching form of the man before the Deer, whose hatchet was firmly embedded in the man's rib cage. By whatever misfortune the man had not died from the blow, and was likely to lay there in anguish for some time before finally succumbing to his injury. Taking a breath, the Hyena moved to stand beside his friend and to watch over him, trying to ensure that none would come upon them in the chaos, even as the formation began to re-assemble near to the blazing tree.

"Keith, we need to get going." William said hoarsely, not having realized until that moment how hoarse his voice was from the yelling during the Melee. Glancing down to the sword still in his hand, held so tight he was afraid that his hand may never open again, and marveled at the blood upon it. How many had he struck down? He couldn't remember.

"Keith, it's time to go.." William said, yet soon realized he was talking to the smoldering embers of the flame in his hearth, giving off just enough light for the concerned visage of his mother to be seen, staring at him from the open doorway to the home, apparently having just come home from the market. She said nothing to him, only coming to embrace her son, to kiss him between his ears and to let her hand gently cup at the side of his face, a thumb brushing over the faint scar there upon him as she wandered past. "I'll get supper ready soon. Get the fire going again, Sweetiecub."

A simple nod came from him as he moved to stand. "I'll go get the wood."

Just when I thought that I'd seen everything, he blew away my expectations for the sequel to my previous image with this utter Masterpiece! The sheer unadulterated emotion felt in this image nearly brought me to tears. A grim Dichotomy if ever there was one referencing the image's prequel.

I'll be getting more work from him soon, so keep a look out~

This mad lad deserves all the support he can get. So get to it!

Geier's FA Page
Geier's Twitter