At some unknown point, a rumor resembling a mythic ballad had suddenly begun circulating across the western reaches of the Rhûn Region.
No one could tell how much of it was true, but it seemed to fit several rather bloody rumors that had come before.
That was Divine Protection over the Redwater River and the Running River. Any Easterling warrior who crossed those rivers and stained his hands with blood would bring disaster back to his tribe. At some unpredictable moment, powerful knights wreathed in flames would descend from the heavens and strike the tribe a devastating blow.
When that happened, steel would claim the life of every living creature, livestock included, while flames would devour every trace left behind.
Naturally, some refused to believe the rumor as it spread. An armored Easterling captain drinking in a tavern sneered, "This is a trick cooked up by those pigs west of the Redwater River. Rivers protected by Divine Protection? Nothing but an excuse dreamed up by a bunch of losers."
No sooner had he spoken than a wooden tankard with a metal handle came flying over. With a thud, it struck the scoffer in the back, followed by an indignant shout: "Are you denying Emperor Sauron's existence? Or do you think you possess power equal to a god's?"
The tankard had naturally come from one of the tribal chiefs who had fled the battlefield in disgrace. Having lost their followers, they could only scrape out a living under a stronger ruler. Hearing someone mock them naturally sent their tempers flaring.
They knew perfectly well that the truth behind the rumor was that the people of Rhovanion had crossed the Redwater River from the west and launched a lightning-fast campaign of revenge, crushing them despite being vastly outnumbered.
But who would pass