Before the White City
"Keep ranks!" He shouted, "keep ranks, you orc scum!" A mere few hundred meters was all that stood between the mass of orc malice, and the horse-lords of Rohan.
Pelennor Fields, which stood before the White City, would soon be the stage for an epic battle.
We lowered our pikes. Grunting and heavy breathing, echoing through our crudely made helms, was all to be heard.
Then suddenly the sound of Rohirric war horns filled the air. Then the ground moved. They charged. Vibrations rattled the bones in our legs.
"Brace!" shouted our lieutenant. A strong intensity filled the space between the orcs, standing still, pikes lowered and the riders thundering forward at an immense speed, shaking the very ground beneath them.
In a few seconds the wrath of Rohan would be upon us. It felt like hours. We knew what was in store for us. Cold. Dark.
Dead.
They are here.