Devotion

The troops rested in the shade of a huge oak tree. They had trained hard that morning, young Heroes and Champions mostly, and sat, glad for the rest, drinking from their water-skins. A Bard, a short Celtic woman dressed in bright green and purple, stood next to the tree.

"I wish to tell you all the tale of Branwen and Ehlar. They served well and true, in this very unit, I may add. Branwen was a quiet Celtic Champion, yet one who did not fail in her unswerving duty."

One lad in the audience whispered to another: "Storytelling! To think this was a part of our training", he snorted. He friend raised an eyebrow and tipped his waterskin back for another draught.

The Bard continues. "Branwen trained hard. Rumor has it that she was an orphan, and had come to the Army upon her maturity. Anyway, she threw herself into her training, and she learned well, becoming skilled with both sword and shield, as well as her magics. She talked very little to others, but, you see, she had someone that she followed after a fashion."

"Ehlar was a popular Celtic Hero, a natural leader, as they say. He was skilled in weaponry aye, but even moreso he was skilled in the arts of leading men and women. Early on, he was known to be a great motivator, one that others would gladly follow, inspiring confidence with his easy manner and his words of encouragement. The Officers of the Army were keeping their eyes on him, well-pleased with what they were seeing, and the rumors spoke of a future General in this lad."

"One day, he had spent a goodly amount of time with Branwen, showing her the finer moves of guarding and protecting others with her shield. 'Remember Branwen' he told her, 'Ye are not guarding a Realm-mate with your shield; you are devoted to their safety. There is a big difference, and please remember that.'

"Afterwards, she trained all the harder, excelling in shield-use. And she would often be seen near Ehlar, listening to his words that he spoke to others, learning from them."

The lad whispered to his friend again: "Now what are we supposed to learn from this?"; his friend gave him a glance, then went back to listening.

"Then, after many months of training, they were deemed ready for combat. Their group was relocated out to Odin's Gate, to patrol Midgard's Frontier with another veteran unit."

One day, a force of Mids offered battle; the troops were sent up to the front. Ehlar was given command of a company, and he deployed it well, and came upon the enemy on a snowy field. The Midgard Warriors and Thanes shook thier axes and hammers at them, dressed in their furs, while the Hibernians, outfitted in green, beat upon their shields and raised their swords and spears high. Ehlar ran ahead of his troops and raised his greatsword, yelling 'For Hibernia and honor!' The men and women following him gave an answering yell, rushing at the enemy."

The Bard paused in her tale and looked over at an old Hero walking by. "Malthrig!" she yelled, running over to him. "Helwyn!" he exclaimed and hugged her. "I was just finishing the tale of Branwen and Ehlar, my old friend, and I would appreciate you telling what you saw there." The old veteran looked sad for a moment, then nodded with a slight smile to the Bard. He walked up to the tree and faced the troops.

"I remember that day well", he started. "In my opinion, they were not quite ready for battle, but the Army needed more troops upon the Frontier." There was some whispering between those in the audience. "If ye don't know me, I be a simple Hero who has no use for the trappings of bein' an officer. I am proud to still be a foot-soldier after all my years in this Army, but I'll call a fool a fool anyday". He looked at them in a half-challenging way, then continued.

"I remember seein' Ehlar leading the charge, his men and women yelling wildly, followin' close behind. The lass, Branwen, she was next to him, guarding and protecting him with her shield as he wielded his two-
handed blade. I remember, even from a distance, I saw her deflect two arrows away from him. Then the groups clashed, the sound of steel on steel, cries and grunts from the force of the blows. Ehlar slew a few
of the foe."

"Ehlar by all I have heard would have made a fine Officer", he continued. "All said he cared for his troops like he would his own family, and that is the only Officer worth his salt, if ye ask me. But fate that day
struck him down, just as it will be for all of us sooner or later."

The troops were totaly silent, listening.

"An arrow struck him from behind, where Branwen's shield could not block. I saw him slump forward, staggered; Branwen reached out to steady him, but the Mids rushed forward, encouraged by what they saw. The Hibernians, well, they were young, and needed more seasoning methinks, and they wavered. Suddenly, it was only Ehlar and Branwen, him swaying, trying through force of will to stay on his feet, while Branwen placed her shield in front of him and held him around the waist."

"I fought like the very devil to reach them, but several Mids blocked the way, and though I slew two, I glimpsed the end for them both as I fought and screamed for our men to rally. Several Mids were raining blows upon him and her, Branwen's shield blocking most of them, but not all. She stunned two of the Warriors, who fell at her feet, but she focused all her energy on blocking the blows aimed at Ehlar, who the Mids knew was a leader. He was hit several times, and I think he was dead while she still defended him."

"Now I saw two old Norse Warriors pulling their men away from them, for they saw that it was all over and there was no honor in slaying the helpless. I'll have ye all know that there be men like them of honor in all of the Realms"- he paused, giving them a challenging look- "because I wouldn't be here today otherwise. Just as there be evildoers in every Realm who would strike the helpless. I have seen Hibernians do that on
occasion."

Nobody said a word.

"It was one such cowardly Norse that sprang forward and ran his sword into Branwen as she huddled against Ehlar, holding her shield over him to the last. The old Norse Warrior buffeted him a blow with the flat of his
axe, but the deed was done. They both lay lifeless upon the snow, dead and wounded around them."

The old Hero looked off into the distance, a solemn look upon his face.

"Later on when we reached the bodies, I saw that someone had combed Branwen's hair out upon her shoulders to do her honor. That was when we found the poems...written on parchment hidden under her armor, telling of her loneliness, and her secret love for Ehlar whom she had never told of her love."

The old Hero looked out upon the troops.

"That is what is known as devotion. I'd serve with Branwen alone rather than a whole Army of those that did not know what she knew and done what she done."

He walked off, leaving all of them with their thoughts.