Before I begin, this FF shall also be serving as a school project/homework assignment, so YAY ME, I get to write my FF for the week, and I get to do school work ^_^. So yes miss Mauer, this is not me just getting a thing from the internet and giving you a URL so that you would believe me, my printer really was broken. So now, without further ado, we shall begin.

To whoever may read these words, this is an account of the events that took place in King Hrothgar's halls when Beowulf came to the aid of us in Heorot, when the outcast Grendel attacked. If any who find themselves wondering who had written this, shall know me as the bard, Wylie. I have been a personal bard of Lord Hrothgar for many years, he has me with him at almost all times, to tell of his great deeds once he has left us. Hrothgar himself has me write this for the king of Geats himself, so that he may know of his sons exploits. I may sound presumptuous by assuming that you may want to know of me before reading my account of what happened in Heorot, but you would be mistaken, no disrespect intended, I only tell you of myself so that you may understand any bias in this tale. Now, that you understand why I do this, may the epic fight of Grendel and Beowulf begin.

The beast Grendel had been terrorizing Heorot for weeks before King Hrothgar sent for help, by then, many of my lord's men had fallen. It was then, as you may know, that he asked for the help of the hero Beowulf. He came to us with great hast in aid of my lord and willingly put himself in danger for a foreign land and it's people.

Grendel came in at night, when he knew he would have the advantage over men, for we all knew that the beast could see as well in the dark as a man may during the day. He came into the halls and picked up one of the men, sleeping upon the floors, eviscerating the man to shambles, and then drunk upon his blood. I sat behind a table along the wall, so that I might see as much as I may for the telling of this fight to it's best, is more important than if I were to die.

As Grendel finished his meal, he bent over to pick up another victim, unfortunately for him, the person he picked up was Beowulf. The beat picked him bent over to grab him in his hand, only to be stopped by the hand of our hero. Beowulf grabbed onto the claw refusing to let go, pulling on the arm. His men awoke from their slumbers and began beating on the mighty beast, who wasn't even being scratched by the swords. Beowulf and Grendel, had come into a fight of brute strength, a true clash of titans, beings above men. Grendel fought for an advantage, to no avail. When all of the strength had finally left the arm, Beowulf pulled the limb clear off, shoulder and all.

The beast then left, going down to his home in the marshlands, to die. The blood left from the wound left no doubt in his death. So the hall was saved. The beast was vanquished. And the hall had a new hanging ornament, the arm of Grendel.