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5HS Beowulf extracts

13 May 2016

   5HS enjoyed reading the Anglo-Saxon Legend 
of Beowulf who defeated the Grendel at Heorot.

Hope you enjoy these extracts from our
retellings of the story.  

In the Land of the Danes there lived a fearless king named King Hrothgar.  He built a fascinating mead hall because he wanted to entertain all of the warriors and maidens he had met in his brutal battles.  Every warrior's dream was to feast at the fabulous mead hall.
The mead hall was a very interesting place because of all the things that happened there.  There was a long banqueting table along the middle of the hall which was piled with mouth-watering food.  As soon as you set foot in the mead hall, there was a lovely smell sensation of fresh, succulent, juicy food.
The food was set out on golden plates with goblets full of wine as red as blood.  There were scorching fires with the smell of ash coming from them.  They made you feel warm while you were eating your food slowly, remembering every small mouthful.  There were drinking horns of guilded antlers on the fine stone walls. There were travellers, musicians and poets all there together, chatting about their lives.  This place was named Heorot.
~ by William ~
Inside the mead hall people ate and drank until they could eat and drink no more.  They also told stories from long ago.  The women sang like angels and the men sang like warriors.
The Grendel heard laughter.  The Grendel hated joy.  The Grendel was a slimy swamp monster with green hair and a snake tail.  The Grendel wanted to avenge his ancester, Cain. 
                                          ~ by Ahmed ~

One cold, average day in Denmark, the Grendal was taking refuge in a muddy swamp.  It was famished but, since hatred and evilness ruled its life, he would rather kill than be kind. 
~ by Mya ~
Grendel was in his swamp and from there he could hear the sounds from the mead hall, Heorot, and felt ENRAGED that he was being disturbed in his swamp.  So he decided to give the king a visit.
~ by Liedson ~  
He slithered out of the swamp.  He hid in the shadows. Silently he trudged to the mead hall.  He heard the dreadful sound of music and the ghastly smell of the food.  That made him even madder!  He growled in rage.
Later (He waited till the men were asleep.) he came to the door. Listened.  Waited.  Not a sound but the snoring of thirty brave men about to die.  
Creek!  The men were still asleep.
Death, death, death.
Thirty men were sacrificed by the Grendel.  
He, the Grendel, sauntered out of the mead hall, full for the night.
                                          ~ by Lily ~

Yes the Grendel had opened the large, wooden, oak door to the mead hall, its nostrils filled with the smell of mead and beer.  It had opened its jaws wide and eaten a courageous warrior.  It had eaten and eaten until it could scarcely breathe. Then it went back to its treacherous swamp.
                                        ~ by Mya ~

In the morning, King Hrothgar awoke.  He slowly opened his eyes.  In terror, he nearly had a heart attack.  
"How did this happen?" he screamed.
Suddenly all of the warriors woke.  Spears were put up but there was nobody to be found.  Only stains left and footprints, blood everywhere, dead warriors' guts and half eaten brains.  All on the floor.  No more fun and games.
Twice more the Grendel hit, so they sadly had to close the mead hall.  All the music and laughter was in the past.  The Grendel had killed ninety.  NINETY! Those brave warriors were all now guts and brains on the floor.  The hall was cleared and locked.  There seemed to be no happiness in Denmark.
                                   ~ by Ella ~
One gloriously sunny evening my warriors and I sailed to Denmark.  We had to help the once popular King, Hrothgar.  I brought with me fourteen of my finest Geat warriors to slay the terrible Grendel.  We couldn't exactly kill a creature we couldn't see - that we had never seen.  We had to try otherwise Denmark would never, possibly, be able to return to the happy, party country it once was.  Otherwise they would turn to hatred, like the Grendel itself.
In  the early hours of the boiling morning, we, the fifteen Geats, arrived in Denmark.  I, in particular, was feeling ridiculously anxious and excited because of what we planned to do in the evening.  I was not only sweating from the heat, but out of extreme anxiety.
                                      ~ by Xanthe ~

It was now ten years later and King Hrothgar was old.  One day he was sitting in Heorot, playing with dust on the raised dias, when suddenly the door opened and a blinding light flowed in.  A man stood right in the source of it.
He was tall, taller than most men.  He carried a sword in his belt and a shield in his hand.  The sword was decorated with monsters and serpents.  The blade was made of iron and the hilt was made of silver.  To King Hrothgar, the sword looked very heavy and so did the matching shield, for it, too, was decorated with monsters and serpents.  The man was strong, stronger that Hrothgar.  He stepped out of the light to greet the king.
" My name is Beowulf. I have heard about the Grendel and I have come to slay it," said the man while falling to his knees to bow.
~ by Katie ~
"I come from the land of the Geats.  My own king if ever a friend of the Danes."
"I'm sure you seek an impossible task."
"No.  I do not.  The Grendel comes unarmed, so I will defeat him unarmed!" exclaimed Beowulf.  
"I will let you try.  We shall open the mead hall tonight," said the king, cheerfully.  
That afternoon King Hrothgar had all the slaves either cleaning, making brew or cooking.
                                        ~ by Ethan ~
My quest was to cease the Grendel.
That night had come the Grendel.  I was by the door, waiting for it to arrive.  The door creaked that night.  My closest friend was gone!
Little did I know the Grendel was aware of me. He screamed in terror as he turned.  (As I told Hrothgar, "The Grendel comes unarmed, therefore I fight it unarmed.") 
I grabbed it by the face so I would not be paralysed.  With the other arm I grabbed its wrist.  With the strength in me, it knew there was no escape.  The Grendel's only chance was to tear off its own arm.  
I held it high, the trophy of Grendel.
It was the whole arm; the hand to the shoulder.
As for it, the Grendel lurched back into the swamp and died the next day.
I was asked to become a noble warrier but I declined for my place was with the tribe of the Geats, not the Danes.
                                      ~ by Henry ~

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