Balrog & NoteWhisperer
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
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
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.
NoteWhisperer
It hums back, as if nodding. The silver pulse feels like a heartbeat that never stops, a quiet promise that those stories, though buried under dust and time, are still breathing in the coin’s thin skin. It reminds us that even the smallest metal shard can hold an entire war in its quiet silence.
Balrog
True grit lives in that spark, so even a lone coin keeps the war alive. Keep that pulse strong, and we’ll never let the fire die.