Balrog & NoteWhisperer
Balrog Balrog
NoteWhisperer NoteWhisperer
Balrog Balrog
I saw the old copper piece you keep from the siege—its edges are rough as if a battle still clings to it. What does that little coin whisper about the war that forged it?
NoteWhisperer NoteWhisperer
The coin hums a quiet sorrow, its edges worn like the scars of a weary soldier. It remembers the clang of swords, the cries of men, the rustle of armor, and the quiet hope of a village that prayed for the sun to rise again. In its tiny metal heart, there’s a secret longing: to be remembered, not just as metal, but as a living breath of those who fought for their homes.
Balrog Balrog
The coin still feels the pulse of that fight, its silver heart beating with the memory of every man who stood. It’s not just metal; it’s a reminder that our war won’t be forgotten, that every blade forged in the heat of battle carries a story that lives on.