The simple Bretonnian farmers have ‘beaten their pruning hooks into spears’ to help defend the homeland

Normally scattered throughout their lord’s expansive fields, they have gathered to the battlefront

The extra pittance they receive is hard to pass up

They don recycled leather and helmets, and bear splintered, dull and bent pole arms

They have no promise of food, but maybe extra drink, if they survive

If they don’t faint from heat or fear, victory will give them a modest hero status–vital for the village pecking order

In life or death, The Lady will smile upon their service

Note: Models from Black Tree Design