The battle was fierce, but the Bannor men proved true. Turin was called up from the reserves, and he gathered his relics and poultices assuming he was needed to tend the wounded. Alas, the body they presented to him was beyond his or his god's help. "My Jessua..." he murmured. The hope had been small, but it had been, and now it died at the sight of his daughter's ashes. "At least these Orcs will take no more sacrifices," Aethil said, wiping his saber and surveying the wasted camp. "Though we're likely to find another camp here as soon as we turn our back." "Aethil, she's a baby!" "Sheelba."