Sometimes Heroism came at the price of pure barbarism.
The days were long, swords covered with grit and the crusted remains of blood soaked entrails as the armor clad knights of yore sat down for a much deserved break. One by one, they removed their helmets. To be free of the smell of metal for even a few short hours and to breathe fresh air openly was something that they all desired that day as the sun sank beneath the ground. The sky was littered with glittering beacons of hope as their fire burned brightly. The grass crunched beneath their feet as they all crossed from their horses to go back to the fire. If only they could have removed their protection entirely for just an hour. A valiant dream for each of them, the champions of their countries. Their squires were far behind them, as they all traveled to the King’s domain.
“The battle went well today,” a tall Knight with dark hair and fair skin remarked.
“Aye,” a red-headed man whose locks were plaited agreed. “May there not be another like it.”
“I will drink to that my friend,” the first agreed while raising his goblet high. The others around the fire did the same. “A toast to our victory today and to the many more to come!”
This is what heroes did.