[ WP ] Warriors killed in battle do n't go to Heaven or Hell , they stand guard in between .

Willem charged with his brethren, his army, his men. His horse had been shot, right through the eye, and his left arm still hurt from the impact of falling off the limp animal mid trot. He wore his Houses green and pearl armour, the Shark that was his Houses symbol indented on his whole chest. He held a great, thick claymore with both his hands, the weight emphasising the sting in his left arm. He felt the huge bellows from the men behind him, and the ones at his side. The cry came from him instinctively, the smell of metal and sweat, here and there the stench of blood or some craven letting their bowels loose. 
 
 He smashed into the enemies ranks with great force, his claymore pointed forward, slamming into the small visor of a soldier brought to his knees by his rush. An arrow whipped past his own helmet, so close he took a step back. The claymore had n't fit into the visor, rather pushed it's way inside, letting the broken metal clamp onto the blade. Willem then realised it could've been the man's skull, but he did n't have enough time to linger on the thought, as a man's blade slashed and stabbed at his throat, bashing the helm from Willems helm. He fell, his arse bashing into the muddy ground, splashing up onto the legs of the man behind him. `` Help! Help!'' He screamed at the man, one of his own. Help the man did, pushing the spear into Willems' attackers chest. Willem let his eyes shut, only to feel a sudden sharp sensation end him. 
 
 ( I'll continue this if someone wants. )
