Lona fought as Uruk began climbing over the wall. "Keep formation! Fell the ladders!" she screamed, her voice hoarse as she hacked at more of the enemy.

In the madness of cutting down the Uruk's ladders, none of them saw the heavily armoured Uruk running toward the water grate with a stick of fire in his hands. Caran was stood above the great, caught in a deadly sword fight with one of the Uruk army, when the bombs exploded. She was shot into the air, the wind knocked out of her chest. When her eyes opened she was on the ground, rubble all around her and a ringing in her ears.

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Lona heard and felt the explosion, and was knocked over herself. "Caran!" she got up and began rushing towards the wrecked wall.

Caran pulled herself to her feet just in time to be ambushed by the Uruk Hai. Her eyes widened, fear flickering across her face. Swallowing hard, she settled her feet on the ground and raised her sword. Suddenly she was running to meet them, an angry roar coming from her chest. "Death!!" she cried as her blade made contact with the first Uruk.

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Lona lept over wreckage and practically fell down the stairs as she hurried to assist them. She attacked with ferocity, her eyes determined.

Before Caran's eyes, Uruk's piled into the outer sanctum of Helm's Deep. All around her, her men fought to push them back. Caran was filled with pride at her mens attempts. However the Uruk Hai were very strong and continued their assault with a great number. Her men were bound to be slaughtered. "Fall back!!" She heard Aragorn shout from on high. Caran glanced up at him and gave him a small nod. The men began to follow Aragorn's lead, still fighting the Uruk Hai back.

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She stared at Aragorn, then fell back with the rest of the men. They were losing. Things had taken a turn for the worse.

They fell back to the inner sanctum. The Uruk's screams of anger was all they could hear. Caran looked around the number that had survived the first assault. There was very few. They were doomed to die. The King emerged from his hall, heavily armoured. "What do we do my lord?" A soldier asked, his voice breaking with fear.
"Ride out and meet them," was Theoden's answer.

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When Lona heard the king's answer, she raised her sword with a might battle cry. "We fight!" she knew there was little hope, little that could be done, but if the king would ride out to meet the armies of the dark lord, so would she.

The men scrambled to mount a horse and fall into line behind their king. Caran did the same. Once settled and her nerves were calmed enough she raised her sword to the air. "Forth Eorlingas!!" She cried as the gates opened and the black mass spilled over. The Uruk's were startled to see the remaining warriors charging towards them. Many doubled back to the field. Caran hissed sharply as she cut through the first line of Uruk's. "Death to the orcs!!" She yelled.

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Lona had swiftly followed on her own steed, slashing her sword through countless orcs. She had no plans do die this day. She fought with determination, always keeping an eye out for Caran and her King.

"Forth Eorlingas!!" another cry broke throughout the crowd. Caran looked up to see who it was. Upon the hill stood an old man in white and a younger man with hair made of gold. "Gandalf! Eomer!" Caran shouted, finding her hope renewed. Eomer charged down to black mass with the rest of the Eorlingas, slaying as they went. Only now did Caran believe that this battle could be won. Victory will be ours, she thought.

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Lona raise her sword and uttered a loud, long cry of triumph. The uruks began retreating from the approaching army. "Rohirrim!" she cried, cutting down more dark creatures with a renewed strength.

The Uruk Hai began to retreat, tripping over eachother as they fled the horse lords. Caran came to a stop, her breath coming hard as the last of her energy was spent. With a sigh of relief she sheathed her sword and looked around at her companions. She wondered what faces she would not see and never see again.

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Lona stopped her steed and breathed heavily. The battle was over, and they had won! She sheathed her sword, looking about her, surveying the carnage that was left behind. She bowed her head and said a small prayer for the lives that had been lost. She looked up, then quickly looked down as Eomer passed by her. She had always felt intimidated by him, though had never spoken with him directly.

The King crossed to his nephew. "Thank you!" He cried as he engulfed his nephew in an embrace. Gandalf stood, shrouded in a stunning white light. He too surveyed the carnage. It was clear many lives had been lost. Still there was life. Life that would prosper because of the Rohirrim's sacrifice. He dropped down from his white steed and began to pile the bodies of the orcs. Caran watched as the men began to follow suit. Soon the clearing was filling with smoke and vile smell rose into the air. The smell of victory. Caran dropped down from her horse and allowed it to wander and find food as she helped the men clean up the evidence of their battle. The fallen Rohirrim were buried with the utmost respect. They would always be remembered.

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