When that old crone at the medieval fair told me “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something is more important than fear”, I wonder if she knew that in less than three days I would be caught amidst a war in a fantasy world called Middle Earth.

You see that scared person, standing next to all the brave soldiers riding out to meet their deaths? Yah, that’s me. This moment would actually be pretty cool to watch in a movie, I imagine, but somehow the awesome-ness is lost on me.

Somehow, under my helmet, my hair has flown into my eyes, making it so that I can’t see.

Unfortunately it’s raining but at least the clouds are starting to go away. There’s hope.

The company of soldiers I’m riding with pause a moment to add some drama to the scene and then go charging down the hill into the thick of the orcs.

I ride with them, reminded of that nugget of wisdom, “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something is more important than fear”.

I swallow back the bile that rises in my throat at the thought of killing anything, even if they are orcs. I’m tempted to turn my horse and run the other way, but I don’t.

After all, winning this battle is more important than my fear. If Rohan loses this battle then Aragorn will die, if Aragorn dies, we also lose the battle at Pelennor Fields. Yah, I’ve read the books.

As we run at full gallop down the hill, I let out a battle cry that would chill the orcs’ hearts, if they had them.

I manage to get past the line of spears and draw my sword, I have no idea how to use it very well, but I try, and manage to take down quite a few orcs before it’s finally all over. I conquered my fear and helped save the day and the year.

I wonder if that old crone knew.