Brigga wept quietly for the warriors he knew. The warriors he knew wouldnt ever be back... His friends in Anjou, destroyed, and his pride for his friends hurt and burning. He wanted to brawl, to attack and to show some of his pain to the Teuton leader, but he couldnt. The Gauls had only just become established, and had come together in a force of unity, allying with their neighbours... For what? So that a group of vile beggars from the north would come to ruin everything, and they did.

They left, leaving only a few shires unplundered. Hm... Like that mattered. What about all the warriors who lost their fiefdoms in the attack? Did you ever think of that? These warriors now have nothing... Their strategy and planning gone to waste.

It all seemed like a lesson that the Teutons needed to learn, and that is, if you want to fight, fight on land that you wont plunder. Brigga began to empathise... Trying to see reason in the vile plundering of both nations.

But he couldnt... There was no justification. Two warriors had joined the gauls based on their own descisions. This was a situation only they decided on, and the two nations had nothing to do with it.

Such a course for war being decided upon the willingness of two warriors, is an act of vulgarism for the sake of plunder. The greedy Teutons had got what they wanted, and many good warriors would never return to the lands to fight or experience.

Who knows where the struggle will lead now? Will the nations diissolve and become nothingness, or will they ally, and hope that some day such greedy hearts would see theirselves? Maybe they never will, for they are in the shadow of greed.