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Description
Battleground

The sun broke over the horizon, the golden beams illuminating the armour of the tense army. A dark mass could be seen coming over the distant hills, moving slowly, rhythmically.

They were predicted to arrive before the golden sun set behind the western sky. Already preparations were being made for the coming battle. The fight for freedom. Swords were being sharpened, shields being distributed. Small groups sparred together while others helped share the limited food supply. Some soldiers were sleeping in their armour, leaning on their shields and spears, some even leaning against one another. Where ever you looked, the camp was bustling with activity. Each activity had distinctive sounds.

The blacksmiths hammering metal, cooks handing out dishes of food, women cleaning and mending garments, swords clashing with shields. Every face had a hard look of determination, but fear clung to the air, as a putrid stench, revealing their fears for themselves and each other.
In the furthest section of the camp were families, huddling together, doing their part, love etched on parents expressions as they watched their children play.
Every step I took clanged loudly as it rattled my own armour. Looking around I could see that every face is different, yet the same. All are dirty, tired, hungry and afraid, yet every one of them hides it behind a lock-jawed grimace of determination, which made something swell with my chest.

I walked on through the camp, stepping around the various bodies, walking towards the training ground. I promised myself that I would survive the battle, no matter what. I was determined to avenge my family and protect my friends and their families. Many people in the camp tell me I train too hard, but they don't understand. I need to. I need to protect them. As I couldn't protect Evangeline and my own children.

Description
Battleground

The sun broke over the horizon, the golden beams illuminating the armour of the tense army. A dark mass could be seen coming over the distant hills, moving slowly, rhythmically.

They were predicted to arrive before the golden sun set behind the western sky. Already preparations were being made for the coming battle. The fight for freedom. Swords were being sharpened, shields being distributed. Small groups sparred together while others helped share the limited food supply. Some soldiers were sleeping in their armour, leaning on their shields and spears, some even leaning against one another. Where ever you looked, the camp was bustling with activity. Each activity had distinctive sounds.

The blacksmiths hammering metal, cooks handing out dishes of food, women cleaning and mending garments, swords clashing with shields. Every face had a hard look of determination, but fear clung to the air, as a putrid stench, revealing their fears for themselves and each other.
In the furthest section of the camp were families, huddling together, doing their part, love etched on parents expressions as they watched their children play.
Every step I took clanged loudly as it rattled my own armour. Looking around I could see that every face is different, yet the same. All are dirty, tired, hungry and afraid, yet every one of them hides it behind a lock-jawed grimace of determination, which made something swell with my chest.

I walked on through the camp, stepping around the various bodies, walking towards the training ground. I promised myself that I would survive the battle, no matter what. I was determined to avenge my family and protect my friends and their families. Many people in the camp tell me I train too hard, but they don't understand. I need to. I need to protect them. As I couldn't protect Evangeline and my own children.