Extract from the new WIP (that's Work in Progress, hem hem). And it's all kicking off in Ireland in 1275.
"The noise and the confusion was enough to drive a man mad. Screaming horses, shouts and orders and curses and whimpers of pain, clattering blades, the swirl of pipes and blast of horns. Wounded and crippled men lay in pools of blood and dung and piss. Others tried to crawl to safety, dragging shattered limbs or spouting blood from gory stumps. An English squire, still a boy, his nose hanging from a strip of skin, stood over his weeping master and fought off all comers with a broken spear. A galloglass knocked him down and plunged his axe into the squire's chest, shattering every rib in his body. A dying horse rolled in its guts, limbs flailing, its piercing shrieks horrible to hear. Two galloglass squabbled over the boots of a dead knight, then fell on each other with daggers drawn, teeth bared, spitting curses. One killed his rival with a stab to the eye and stole his purse. He was still counting out the handful of copper pennies when an English mace crushed his skull from behind..."
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