welcome, friend, to dagorhir

Sword in one hand, shield in the other, you charge the enemy line, their arrows streaking past your head. Your heart pounds in your ears as you duck beneath the volley. Your teammate falls to the ground before you as an arrow finds its way to her gut. Putting the full force of your body behind the blow, you slam your shield into another combatant, knocking him to the ground and driving back his forces. The line is broken, and your compatriots swarm in and take the castle. Cheers erupt around you as victory is secured.

Later that evening, celebrants dance to drumbeats and fiddle music drifts through the night air as you settle down next to the campfire. Your teammate and the man you defeated have been trading stories about the day’s battle. He admires your armor, and you tell him of the smith who taught you to craft it yourself. He in turn displays his own handiwork with pride, heraldry of his own family that he researched and embroidered onto his tunic.

You take a deep drink from your cup and sigh in contentment. You get to do this all again tomorrow…

Welcome, friend, to Dagorhir.