The battle had raged for many weeks, before slowly running out of steam, then petering out altogether.
In the castle on the hill lived the Nouns. Solid, dependable types; they knew what was what, but lacked flair and imagination.
In the woods at the bottom of the hill camped the Verbs; full of action and derring do, but often aimless.
When the battle started, the Verbs had rushed at the castle; shouting and flinging and hammering and firing, all at once and all in the same way. The Nouns were terrified and gathered all the things they had at their disposal; rocks, burning oil, arrows, lumps of metal, and threw them from the towers and turrets until the Verbs rubbed their heads in pain and retreated.
This continued for several weeks until both parties were bored. 'What to do?' pondered the Nouns. 'We can't win the war by just being here and finding things to throw.'
'What to do?' cried the Verbs, running about and colliding with each other.
Suddenly, a triumphant horn sounded from the other side of the hill. 'Oh no!' shouted the Verbs. 'It's the Adjectives, come to help the Nouns win the war!' And sure enough, up the hill to the castle gates galloped the Adjectives, dashing and handsome and wonderfully clad in shining armour, brandishing glittering swords and heavy shields. The Nouns flung up their shaking hands in welcome and hurried them into the sturdy castle.
But from over the river and across the fields the Adverbs crept, quietly and sneakily, into the Verbs' camp. 'Fear not!' a voice called joyously. 'Now we can run swiftly and fight courageously and plan carefully. And stop carelessly bumping into each other!'
And so the battle recommenced, and everyone agreed it was far more interesting now.