(Archive) The Fellowship of the Sword 58 - The Knighting of Maernus

Elendor - Sunday, January 21, 2001, 11:54 AM

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Middle-earth time is:

Before Dawn on Monday, Day 13 of May.

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Real time is: 11:55:02 MST on Sun Jan 21 2001.

High Pass

The path here twists and turns about a dangerous drop. Clouds of mist loom both above and below. The footing on this cold and muddy ascent is tricky at best. The pathway leading down forks to the north into a small canyon, while it also continues westward. Above you to the east, the worst of the climb remains.

A light drizzle of rain falls from the overcast sky, slowly but surely, forming shallow pools of muddy water on the trail. The before dawn spring air is humid and clammy. The moon is above the horizon and in its new phase.

Contents:

Maernus

White Pavillion

Obvious exits:

North, West, and Ascend

Underneath a rather tall device to keep the rain away from it, the fire burns in this inhospitable land. The morning sun still has not risen, though the company of men seem to care naught for such trivial things. Some of their numbers having already risen.

Amoung these men stands the squire Maernus, the man still looks as if he would be better fitted to be standing in a desert, yet he stands against the rain. The grey cloak, a gift from Denethor, lightly held over one shoulder as he stands, gazing up at the mountains and the sky.

Wrapping his sable cloak about himself, Drenlyn stands at the edge of the trail, starring down into the depths of the ravine which lines the path. So he has stood for the past nights since the Gondorians set camp in the pass and so he remains, his face wrought with concern.

He seems not to see those who stern in the pre-dawn hours, his thoughts swimming and wandering hither and thither. A finger traces the hem of his tunic beneath his cloak, but no other motion does he make, a dark figure, standing on the edge of a dark abyss, starring down into darkness.

\"What, praytell, are you doing Drenlyn? Do you think if you stare into that ravine long enough that the whole bloody mountain will disappear?\" Maernus says, laughing as he does. \"Well, it matters not... perhaps if we all stared...\" He puts his cloak on fully as he heads over towards the ravine. \"At home, such a rain would be praised at the right time of the year...\"

Clouds loom ominously in the horizon as the sun raises it\'s specter across the land.

His gaze still centered into the depths, Drenlyn\'s voice is filled with sadness as he speaks, \"Surrounded my darkness, I stare it straight in the face Maernus. Darkness enshrouds the world now, and I seek to master my self against it. Also my thoughts find refuge and my mind clears staring into these depths.\"

Sighing Drenlyn turns his eyes from the ravine, and steps towards the squire, \"As to this rain...all weather is right for each time of year, but this rain is refreshing in a sense, and I am glad to at least smell the clear air in these heights.\"

And tis in such a setting, another arrives. One perhaps even of darker mood then the Knight Drenlyn, for the youth that emerges from the pavillion is one lately tormented by doubt and uncertainties. Still bearing clear marks of his capture by the accursed, Rowaen steps into the rain. Yet he is not alone! For in his right arm is his trusty companion! The very things that mocks him so... the crutch to allow him a staggering walk, not being completely helpless in his ways and thoughts. Though perhaps t\'would have been for the better of all if not yet the Young Nimothan had risen from his sickbed...

Almost resembling the dark night itself, black and even more darkened by the falling rain, such a weary expression bears the young lad. The blue in his eyes is dull and lifeless, clouds being within taking away the glimmer of the normally so coolly glance. For nothing remains of that now... Still, despite the lifeless appearance, as the young squire takes his first steps, he replies grimly to words spoken. \"Then miraculous depths they are, and ones I need to stare in for several weeks I deem...\" For a moment it seems Rowaen leaves it at that, a frowning of brows however betrays some sense left, \"Good eve to you both...\"

And he makes his way thither.

Maernus continues to laugh. \"You speak darkly, Drenlyn, this darkness you speak of will come... we can not stop it, merely delay it. What good does it do to have you life ruined by something you can\'t stop? Besides, if I live to see Umbar destroyed, I\'ll be content with or without bringing light to where there dark.\" He turns back towards Rowaen, running his hand through his hair. \"Well, morning will be here soon, Rowaen, so a good morn\' to you.\"

Looking sadly towards Rowaen, Drenlyn greets, \"Good morn to you good squire. It is well to see you on your feet, for I would not have lay in sloth. But say not that you must stare into the depths of darkness, for you need not. Healing perhaps you will find in the house of Elrond, but I feel that we must depart soon.\"

His eyes moving slowly to Maernus, Drenlyn replies, \"My words may be dark, but so are my travails, though I doubt not that I am not alone in my troubles. It is more dark to me that one as your self would give up hope to stopping the darkness that spreads across Middle Earth. Is Gondor not stern and solid? Do you not believe in the quality of its men? For me I will still hope that the light is the stronger, and that the black shadow can be beat back.\"

Sighing Drenlyn\'s eyes gaze southward towards the unending peaks, \"However I too would be happy to see Umbar destroyed, for much harm have the Southrons done us from that corrupt port. But our purpose now is to free the Prince\'s son from a fate worse then our own.\"

\"A fate which will be resolved... the gaining of the first piece of the sword proves quite enough for the determance of this fellowship...\" speaks Rowaen dryly, as he ventures nearer to the other two. Yet before he fully reaches the place of both other squires, the crutch slips in the mud and almost does the youth fall... however barely, he manages to keep his balance. And so further harm is prevented... physical, for it does not miss it\'s outcome upon the Nimothan\'s mood. A growl leaves the slender lips, blue eyes being closed and for long moments not opened. Is it shame that makes him act as so? Or pain surging through his bones... It remains a mystery for now, Rowaen speaking naught a word and staggering on, silently reaching the other two.

And as he stands there, eyes moving downwards, seeing what Drenlyn was staring at before, there he speaks again. \"Let me stare then and hopefully find the peace you apparently seem to have found... how this journey proved quite the challenge, some enduring all hardships better then the other...\"

\"I have faith in Gondor, in the Lord Prince and in Amroth. But, Drenlyn, even you must see that our numbers dwindle and the forces of dark seem to grow by the hour. Gondor will hold, until Dol Amroth and Minas Tirith seem as different nations from being two islands in a sea of evil, but we will falter... hopefully not untill the memory of knights, like you... or Durandir, and even ones such as Thorondur and Indilzar are not even myth, nor legend to the people.\" Maernus says, glancing back up towards the mountain. \"Rowaen, you should gather strength for our journey.\"

Making a step towards the stumbling squire, Drenlyn\'s brow frowns, \"Stare if you must, but be cautious. This rain will make our decent treacherous for all men and beasts. But seek not peace in this abyss, for there is none. For me my heart hangs heavy, and so it gives my heart relief to see a companion darkness in the outside world. If you desire peace, then I recommend the calm of one of our tents for meditation.\"

Staring at the dim figures moving about the camp in the freshening light, Drenlyn continues, \"I fear that none have endured hardships better than others, only some hold their injuries within rather than without.\"

Now there comes a ringing laughter, and with it a light against the dark! For from the western ascent above them, a torch is seen descending, and its bearer seems impervious to ill-feeling. It is the Lord Thorondur.

\"Come come,\" he says, coming into the shelter of the cliff-face. \"This talk of darkness is tiresome and unnecessary. You are alive, the lot of you -- and that should be enough for any man.\"

Nodding as the Knight descends, Drenlyn smiles faintly, \"To feel ones heart beat and to breath are not the only marks of life. To be truly alive...to feel life fill and surround you...that is my wish. But I am glad to still have the chance to seek such life.\"

Dark is the expression upon fair complexion, thought tis causes more by the thoughtfull frown, Rowaen considering the words spoken. And there he shows not all wisdom has left his mind and body. For he glances at both squires...

\"Words... how many they have flown, more then the blood of our companions... some hold wisdom, other hold none. Still...\" here the squire falters, for an \'interruption takes form in a cheerfull Knight-Herald. Slowly Rowaen turns, granting the Herald a respectfull nod, before silently staggering away from the cliff.

\"I shall pay heed to words spoken quite often now... to gather strength, to indeed attempt to deliver the small part I can contribute to the saving of Amrothos, as I have sworn to the Prince... I shall breath and let my heart beat in my tent then.\" Somewhat lighter those last words are spoken, even the beginning of a smile seemingly to rise upon the Nimothan\'s lips. Yet all is lost when he moves once more, taking further distance of the others.

\"If you cannot feel life now, here in the mountains,\" the Lord Girithlin tells the younger men, and if his eyes seem to rest reproachfully upon Drenlyn, it is not by accident, \"then you have chosen your path poorly, and no man save yourself can right it.\"

Now setting his torch in a bank of snow, he frees his hands and rubs them together. \"But let us speak of brighter things. I have gone ahead to see what I could see, and the ascent is clear. No goblin shall trouble us.\"

\"Ah, see, even Thorondur agrees with me!\" Maernus says, still rather cheerful. \"I was just trying to tell these too that they shouldn\'t worry about that which they can not hope to stop.\" He turns to watch Rowaen, \"Yes... I think that a good idea, if you fall near this ravine I do not want to be the one sent down to fish you out of there.\" He glances towards the herald, \"In the mountains? Now why would these make me feel alive? No, to feel truly alive one needs to be upon a ship, Thorondur. A ship heading somewhere where no man from our lands have been before... that would be living.\"

Nodding, though now frowning at the Herald\'s gaze, Drenlyn says quietly, \"Indeed I have chosen my path poorly, and folly seems to surround me, and my family\'s name, but I have ever endeavored to straighten it.\"

Slight is the sound of raised cloth, the figure of Rowaen silently disappearing within... Though rather fierce the crutch he held is thrown to the soil, and only then does a hand reach out to return the cloth of the tent, and no more stir is heard...

Thorondur asks of his former squire, \"Does folly truly surround you, or is it merely the seeming? Often we are beset by illusions of our creation.\" Now he lowers a gloved hand to the hilt of his sword, and draws it forth holding the silvery brand aloft in the light of the fire, he turns it one way and another, bending his gaze upon it.

\"The path of knighthood is not an easy one, lads,\" the Herald says, leveling the sword upon its cutting side, parallel to the ground. \"It is more narrow than this pass we cross -- more like to a blade\'s sharp edge than a wide road.\"

\"Who can tell me why we fight with the sword?\"

Silent now, and still Drenlyn\'s eyes go over the blade of the Herald as he speaks, but naught does the young knight say, his face now troubled somewhat.

His face calming, Drenlyn stands aside, not wishing to speak it seems, but his voice nonetheless comes forth, \"For it\'s mark of honor perhaps? Or is it for the keen edge, and the finesse of its use? Long have I now wielded one, but I know not the reason, only guesses do I have to offer.\"

\"We fight with a sword, Thorondur, to protect your Lord Prince and our homeland. We fight with no love of war and with no love of the sword, but with a love of home and countrymen. While others may stay behind to live out their lives peacefully, it is our blood that allows them to do such and it is our fate to die on some half forgotten battle field so that others may live in peace.\" Maernus replies to Thorondur, \"Or... at least that is why I have learned to fight with the sword.\" He glances towards Drenlyn and then back to Thorondur. He then spares a glance towards his own sword, \"Though, I have been wrong before... I believe I am right this time.\"

Long does the fair Knight-Herald turn his silver blade this way and that it glistens like a scarlet tongue of the fire it reflects. At length, he lowers the weapon and turns to the younger men, smiling a vague and unreadable smile. His sapphirine eyes are like mirrors, his thoughts impossible to discern.

\"You have part of it, Maernus -- or the practical part, at least. Much of what you are taught has been practical, I know.\" And here Thorondur laughs again, a delighted and merry sound, if muted. \"But there is another way to learn.\"

Staring blankly at the glistening blade of the Herald, Drenlyn nods faintly, and reluctantly speaks once more, \"There are many ways to learn the use of a tool. Little do I know though of those ways of learning, though I ever endeavor to expand my knowledge.\"

Maernus nods at Thorondur. \"Yes, I have learned the practical part, that is true, I have been mostly trained on the battle field and lack both the noble upbringing and the time in the court of the Lord Prince that you have, Thorondur.\" He watches the Herald, \"However, what is this other way? Though I have not the advantage of having been taught it, perhaps in time I could teach it to someone else... in a more peaceful time.\"

\"Drenlyn, if you speak another word that demeans yourself, I will be tempted to throw up my hands and despair of ever teaching you again,\" Thorondur quips, and though the words are spoken dryly, there may be a hint of frustration in them.

Then do his eyes flicker from the sword to Maernus, and he says, \"Indeed. I have been teaching it to Drenlyn, though he seems to have forgotten it. Do you remember how to clear your mind and center yourself, Sir Drenlyn?\"

Frowning slightly, and in some confusion, Drenlyn nods, \"I do Sir Thorondur, and oft have I practiced such in the past weeks. Yet I still do not see the connection between clarity of mind and the reason why we fight with sword rather than with cudgel.\"

\"Perhaps it will come to you if you perform the exercise. Now -- that Maernus might learn,\" Thorondur instructs, now clearly a teacher.

Nodding, Drenlyn frowns as he takes off his cloak, and lays it on the snow, presenting a seat for the exercise. Calmly sitting on his close Drenlyn crosses his legs, and lays his hands in his lap. Breathing calmly, Drenlyn replies, \"As you wish Sir Thorondur,\" and with that the young knight closes his eyes. His breathing calm and unfaltering, Drenlyn seems not to care or feel the cold breeze through his tunic, and so he sits, silent and still.

Watching Drenlyn, Maernus stands. He obviously doesn\'t understand. The squire just, watches. He opens his mouth a few times, as to ask a question, but stands silent for the time being. He glances towards Thorondur with a raised brow...

Watching Drenlyn, Maernus stands. He obviously doesn\'t understand. The squire just, watches. He opens his mouth a few times, as to ask a question, but stands silent for the time being. He glances towards Thorondur with a raised brow...

\"The day will come when you needn\'t sit to reach a suitable state of calm,\" Thorondur tells Drenlyn more patiently, smiling faintly again as he looks to Maernus. \"It is an elvish exercise,\" he explains, \"and all things come more easily when you attain the state it is meant to bring you.\"

\"Including swordsmanship -- but I am getting ahead of myself.\"

\"Gentlemen,\" says Indilzar now coming from beyond a bend in the rock, \"As much as I regret breaking your practice, it is time to move on once again.\"

\"Patience, Indilzar,\" Thorondur asks of his comrade in arms. \"We can move on when I have taught them something -- which may come sooner or later, depending on how studious they can be.\"

Not heeding the words of the Herald or of Indilzar, Drenlyn sits calmly, eyes still closed, deep in thought and in bliss it seems, for a faint smile appears on his face. In a gentle stupor it seems that he remains, unmoved by the exchange of words that takes place around him.

Indilzar glances west and he looks with the sight of his fathers, \"Not far. Not far now are we from the lands on the west side of these truly hospitable mountains.\"

\"Have a care Thorondur,\" says Indilzar looking back at Girithlin, \"and be not long, for there are evil things in these hills and the longer we tarry, the more are we likely to meet with some unpleasant adventure.\"

\"As you say, Thorondur.\" Maernus glances up towards Indilzar, then he begins to mimic Drenlyn. Taking a seat upon the wet ground of the area, he glances around. \"So... what am I supposed to do now?\"

\"Clear your mind,\" Thorondur instructs Maernus. \"For my purposes, I would have you think on your sword. No more than that -- only picture it in your mind\'s eye, as it would look alone in the midst of the sky.\"

And looking back to Indilzar he explains, unable to contain a certain eagerness, \"I have scouted the western ascent, and it is clear. The valour of the Elves and their allies still holds.\"

\"Very well then,\" says Indilzar. He then storms over to a boulder and sits on it, deciding to watch.

Amidst the silence, once more the Nimothan appears. Though the expression upon his countenance betrays not quite cheerfullness. Tis not quite clear what Rowaen\'s reasons are to arise once more, perhaps not able to find a peacefull slumber or stirred by unpleasant thoughts?

Though as the blue glances somewhat wearily round, hand reaching quite reluctant for the crutch upon the ground, the young Nimothan speaks naught. All reaction comes in form of a curious frown, an expression soon fading as he slowly makes his way towards the still burning fire.

Nodding as he closes his eyes, Maernus concentrates as he sits on the ground. He, were his eyes open, stares towards the top of the mountain. He breathes in long drawn out breathes.

Still Drenlyn sits, a smile upon his face, a vision of calm happiness, all dark thoughts seeming to disappear. He seems to await a command of rousing, yet none comes for the time being, and so he sits and waits.

The approach of Rowaen does not go unnoticed indeed, the Lord Girithlin turns upon the young Nimothan with an amiable smile. \"Will you join us, Rowaen? There is much I can teach you, if you will it.\"

A generous offer is made, yet the Nimothan seems quite unwilling this day... for no more then another nod he gives the Knight-Herald, and one towards the Black Knight, before arriving silently at the fire. Tis only there, near warmth amidst the cold and dark, the young lad replies.

\"No need, my Lord, tis a kind offer, yet already I must be \'glad\' I can stagger as I do, let alone do practice in another way...\"

\"If you would rather be dead than alive and humbled, Rowaen, I am certain there are many goblins in the hills about this place who could arrange it,\" Thorondur teases the morose young Nimothan. Grinning infectiously, the Herald sheathes his sword and slaps Rowaen on the shoulder.

\"Buck up, lad. We all take our hurts now and again. As for the pair of you,\" Thorondur laughs to the others, \"You may continue as you are, or prepare for departure. For I fear that our Indilzar grows impatient.\"

Indilzar grasps the sword of his fathers and wields bright Bragoangurth, the Sudden Sword of Steely Death! Beware all foes of the House Bragollach! For vengeance shall find thee!

\"Indeed I am!\" cries Indilzar leaping down from the stone bearing his blade. \"School time is over. Enough time for play. Now it is time for learning!\"

With that Indilzar charges at Maernus and cries, \"Defend thyself squire!\"

Indilzar his blade moves like a blinding blur. A flash of light too swift for the moving eye, for such is the skill of the Lord Bragollach that he either seeks to intimidate his newly chosen foe or is merely show-boating. It is likely, a bit of both.

As if called forth Drenlyn\'s eyes flutter, the smile upon his face fading, and rises swiftly, drawing his blade instinctually and holding it in defense. Though he is not the target of Indilzar\'s charge, he holds the blade steady as his eyes dart between the Black Knight and the meditating squire.

Opening his eyes as the herald speaks, Maernus watches Indilzar. He speaks towards Indilzar, \"Excuse me, Indilzar... if you wanted to kill me there is no need to act like a maid giddy at seeing the Lord Prince for the first time...\" He grins slightly, sheathing his sword as he does, \"I feel no desire to fight you, Indilzar, for I know you would defeat me easily... if it were to even be worthy of calling it a fight if I did wield my sword against you.\"

Then a rage comes over the Lord Indilzar Bragollach as he cries, \"O Ho!\"

He strikes Maernus with the flat of his blade!

\"For the sake of the King, Indilzar, put up your blade! What black mood has overtaken you?\"

So cries the Knight-Herald, blue eyes flashing in the firelight as his own blade leaps forth! \"We are not in the yads of Dol Amroth, where you can teach your hard-earned lessons! This is a mountain pass! Now leave the lad be!\"

And he swiftly moves to interpose himself between knight and squire.

Unmoved Rowaen sits, silent as the Knight-Herald speaks his words and taps him on the shoulder, and still silent as the Black Knight makes his charge. Only a curious blink is that what comes from the Nimothan. Yet how indeed he falls almost over as Maernus receives a rather fierce tap... Yes, even startled is Rowaen when then also the Knight-Herald jumps up with Blade drawn.

\"And they speak of not giving in to darkness? So madness is to be preferred above all...?\" mutterings leave the squire\'s lips, shaking his head in apparent disapproval at the display.

A resounding noise echoes as the flat of Indilzar\'s blade hits Maernus up-side the head. The squire rests where he is for a few moments, before falling over sideways. When he hits the ground he holds his hands over his ears, cursing under his breath. He mutters about \'bloody Bragollachs\' most of all under his breath.

Indilzar laughs, \"Yes. Bloody Bragollachs, Blue Squire. But you have learned your lesson.\"

Indilzar looks to the others and says, \"For a knight must be ready against all. And at no time should their sword rest. Ever!\"

Indilzar looks at Maernus, \"Do not give trust to any squire. Not even me. For there are many enemies in the wide world and in this it was to learn, as is your duty. Do not... disappoint me... again.\"

Then Indilzar turns on his heels, his black cape fluttering behind him, his breath coming in deep, almost mechanical hisses.

Shaking his head, and still frowning at Indilzar, Drenlyn sheaths his blade, \"It is indeed time we moved, it seem this pass holds darkness for all in our company.\"

Sighing Drenlyn moves to Maernus, and helps the squire rise, silently, unsure of what to say after such a harsh lesson learned.

No anger lurks in the shining eyes of the Herald, as he sheathes his elven blade -- but after Indilzar he stares, and his gaze is unreadable. \"Drenlyn, see to Maernus,\" he says simply, from the corner of his mouth. \"And both of you see that you discard that \'lesson\' he gave you. We must all trust one another most of all.\"

Now bounding after Indilzar, Thorondur tells the lads behind him, \"and I shall seek to ensure that it remains thus.\"

Pausing by Rowaen, Thorondur tells the blue squire, \"Help them. For not all are succumbed to madness at this pass.\" And with that he leaps forward once more, in pursuit of his friend.

Slowly standing to his feet. \"Ah... people wonder at why I don\'t like most of those cursed Bragollachs. They\'d as soon kill themselves to save their own honour than live to fight for the Lord Prince...\" Maernus glances around, he spots Rowaen. \"I like the Nimothans... Durandir is both a friend and brother to me.\"

\"Still expect no other help of this Nimothan then to find a way to return the lesson paid,\" speaks Rowaen with difficulty rising to both feet, \"it is a shame I can not follow...\"

Was there a glimpse of amusement at the display of the knight and squires before, then now tis once more suppressed, Rowaen again remembered of his havened state, being such an obstacle in his normal ways. So his glance is one of sadness, being unable to add more strength to his words in the form of deeds... Staggering he draws near the other two, casting a considerate look upon Maernus. \"I have heard of Lord Indilzar\'s lessons before... I hope he was not to harsh.. are you in any pain, Maernus? For I might be lend a hand, many hours have I spent near my love in the Halls of Healing, even received a few lessons in the arts of healing..?\"

Frowning Drenlyn leads Maernus to the now packed camp, \"Speak not to critically of the Bragollachs, for they have proven their worth to the Prince already. It is sad that the different houses must be at ends with each other. But come now, we will see to that head of yours ere we move, for move we must. This place holds no happiness or light now.\"

And so leaving the squire\'s side, Drenlyn moves to his own steed, and retrieves a roll of gauss. Returning he speaks, more of a merry command than an inquiry, \"Come, let us wrap that head of yours for good measure, ere we depart.\"

\"I speak of Indilzar from experience, Drenlyn. However, I would not oppose him, he serves the Lord Prince and the Lord Prince trusts him, so... I shall trust him, though if I must sup with him it would be with a long spoon.\" Maernus says, then he chuckles slightly... though it stops as it pains him slightly. \"I deserved that, I should have known that he would have done that, I\'ve seen him do similar things before... I am a fool for forgetting that...\" He trails off, \"Oh yes, Rowaen, well... ask her for a cure for my foolishness... my head with thank her for it.\"

Holding Maernus firmly in front of him, Drenlyn smiles as he proceeds to wrap the squires head, \"If experience has taught you not to trust the Bragollach\'s then I am sorry. I only ask that you look beyond their action, for I feel their intentions are true, though their methods are not all sound.\"

**********************Meanwhile********************************************

---------------------------- Meanwhile, down the slope -------------------------

High Pass

The sheer peaks of the mountains rise up on all sides around you. The pass seems almost like a maze here, with huge boulders, obscured by thick clouds, making progress more hazardous at every turn. Eventually, however, with many false starts, you manage to work your way through the rubble. It almost reminds you of a rock garden, with weather-beaten tangled bushes planted among the mist enshrouded strengthening and moist boulders, but you shudder at the thought of who the gardeners might be!

The sky is gray and overcast by billowing clouds that bring the scent of rain to the cheerless day. The midday spring air is cold and brisk.

Indilzar strides on down the mountain. He comes to the side of the path and leans against a stone....

And swiftly now behind him, the Herald comes with speed. Nimble of foot, he negotiates the treacherous path with little effort. \"Indilzar! By the Seven and Seven, hold,\" he calls!

Indilzar halts by the stone and glances up the path. His face is ashen grey, \"What? Can you not see that I am busy?\"

\"Busy with what? Some other darkling whim?\" Now the pebbles rattle downhill, knocked ajar by Thorondur\'s feet as he attains the boulder -- and the Black Knight with it.

Reaching out to grasp the other by the arm, Thorondur wonders, \"Indilzar, what has befallen you?\"

Indilzar stumbles and falls down to the cold earth and he suddenly weeps. He weeps long and hard at the feet of Thorondur Girithlin, his gloved hands clawing at the brazen dust below.

Speechless does the Lord Girithlin remain at length, allowing Indilzar his sudden and bitter fit of weeping. Only when long moments have gone by does he speak, and his voice is low and wary, almost gentle. \"Speak to me, Indilzar,\" he says. \"Tell me what evil has befallen you.\"

But for a long moment Indilzar makes no reply. He continues his bitter tears until he says, \"Lost. She is lost. Bright eyes and fair hair and face so warm. Never to be fated with her. No. Not I. I am not of that doom. Alas... alas... alas... lost I am... lost... and when I die, she shall yet live on, and never shall my love be known or felt. Save only some penitant evil which shall befall me to whisper soft echoes in the endless chain of hills.\"

Now the truth becomes clear, and the Herald closes his eyes -- briefly, no more, but in a moment of mourning and sorrowed understanding. Then carefully he speaks, bending a knee to sink down and rest a brotherly hand upon Indilzar\'s shoulder.

\"Alas, Indilzar, that we are not made as Tuor and Earendil were. But no such Man has walked the world in two long Ages that time is past,\" Thorondur counsels. \"You are no lesser for it. You are a Man of lost Westernesse, and your destiny lies with a woman of that race.\"

Indilzar rises slowly and says, \"I must go back. And give care to Maernus.\" He glances into the eyes of Thorondur, \"I understand now. I understand.\" He strides on back up the hill.

A figure comes up the hill... crawling... crawling along, ashen face... his black garments strewn about and his face red from what might have been weeping.

Indilzar pulls himself up by his fingernails, heaving himself to his feet and calls, \"Maernus. Maernus. Come here.\"

Indilzar staggers forth as his feet stumble about in a wide flail. There are no wounds which Indilzar bears, rather there is some other force at work upon him, unseen and unknown.

Having finished bandaging the squires head, Drenlyn turns to face the stumbling figure, grave astonishment in his face.

\"Oh I will Maernus, the moment we return in Dol Amroth...\" so begins Rowaen, smiling lightly now, yet he is disturbed in his phrase by the calling of another... Turning to the source of the sound for a moment the Nimothan blinks in surprise, gazing at the figure of the Black Knight...

\"So, the Lord returns? Though if tis for another lesson, then I fear I will protest for Maernus\' sake...\" And as if to strengthen his words, the Blue Squire raises the crutch in his hand lightly, stepping before Maernus.

Indilzar stumbles forth and then suddenly stands tall and proud once again. Then his voice says, \"Maernus. Come forward and to me.\"

Glancing around, Maernus looks for the voice. Rubbing his head slightly, \"Thank you Drenlyn... Indilzar?\" The squire seems startled at hear that voice. However, he begins to walk towards where the knight, though his path isn\'t quite straight. He holds his hand over the hilt of his sword, he quietly speaks... \"This must be a ploy, I thought I had been taught enough...\"

Indilzar does not move. He rather looks at Maernus and says, \"To your knees boy. To your knees.\" There is a tear in his eye.

Indilzar then drops to his own knees, awaiting for Maernus to join him.

\"Indilzar?\" The squire seems even more startled then before he set out to walk to the knight, however the man gets onto his knees. He watches Indilzar, his hands moving away from his sword.

No smile graces Drenlyn\'s lips as he sees what passes, nor does he smile as he hears what is said, though he knows full well the implications of such commands. Nay, the knight remains still, and watches on, silent as the mountains who watch over the Knight and squire.

In awe and silence Rowaen now stands, finding suffice in staring at the figure of the Black Knight. Then as the Black Knight sends forth his command, questioning the Nimothan looks first to Drenlyn and then to Maernus. And even more surprised he is when the Lord falls to his knees! And now surprisement makes place for signs of alarm...

\"Lord Indilzar?\"

Indilzar bows his head to Maernus, \"It should not have been done to thee. I am humbly before thee proud squire and ask of thee forgiveness.\"

Heedless of Rowaen\'s gaze, Drenlyn bows his head as he hears the Black Knight speak. A solemn mood fills his figure as Drenlyn\'s gaze wanders to Indilzar, firm approval and sincere respect in his eyes.

Though Rowaen seems quite ignorant on his part, he finds enough sense and wisdom to speak no further words. Still silent his gaze shifts between the three figures, studying their expressions and perhaps drawing conclusions of his own...

Maernus is silent for a long moments, though it seems more out of shock than of thinking. When finally the ability to speak returns to the squire he says, \"Forgiveness I give to thee... it is though my fault that thou hast been forced to do this, Indilzar. I have fought alongside the knights for too long to not have known that my words would invoke your anger.\" He bows his own head, now, breathing heavily before continuing, \"It is I, not thee, who should be asking forgiveness and ask it I do now.\"

Indilzar then nods and arises and then says, \"None I shall give, for rather none is needed save to treat thee as a brother. Rather now give unto me your blade and remain upon thy knees.\"

Indilzar extends his black gloved hand to receive the sword of Maernus.

Finally recognition is the Nimothan\'s part, eyes assuming a glance of respect, now shifting only between the other squire and the Black Knight.

A slow, yet seemingly steady, hand removes Maernus\'s sword from its sheath to place it into the hands of the Black Knight. However, once it is in the others hands, it seems the squire sheds tears of his own as he watches Indilzar.

\"Maernus Calgar,\" says Indilzar lofting the squire\'s sword into his hands so that it catches the light of the Sun like a brilliant red star, \"do you swear to uphold the oaths of Fealty to Gondor? To serve the Realm at need? To be valiant and love your land? To protect the Prince with love and life? To be bold in battle and patient in peace? To do as thy lord commands without reservation or hesitance as knight of the Swan of Dol Amroth by the Sea?\"

A glimpse of pride shines briefly upon the countenance of the young Nimothan, for tis as he suspected, though not sooner then Drenlyn... For a moment eyes are closed, and head respectfull nodded. Soft his words are, more meant for himself then another. \"So another finds a worthy change upon his path... one earned and righteous...\"

Rowaen\'s last glance falls on Drenlyn, a grave nod being given, and now silent, carefull not to disturb the other\'s, Rowaen moves away, returning to his tent.

\"I do swear that I shall uphold my oaths. I swear to serve the Realm and to love that realm. I swear to be valiant in defense of the realm and to protect the Lord Prince with my life and to be both bold and patient, each in its own place. Also, I swear to do as the Lord Prince commands, with no reservation or hesitation...\" Maernus pauses, merely breathing for a few moments, \"As a knight of the Swan of Fair Dol Amroth by the sea.\"

Indilzar nods grimly.

Then Indilzar takes the blade and then touches the right shoulder of Maernus and intones, \"So be it. In the name of Anarion...\"

Then the Black Knight touches the left shoulder of Maernus and says, \"...in the name of Galador the Half-Elven...\"

Again the Bragollach switches the shoulders, \"...in the name of Imrazor the Numenorean...\"

\"And by the power vested in me by the Prince Imrahil,\" continues Indilzar, \"I dub thee Knight of the Swan of Dol Amroth and to it all the privileges and responsibilities of that office.\"

Indilzar takes the sword hilt and offers it to Maernus, \"Receive thy sword. Knight.\"

Taking his sword from Indilzar, Maernus takes his sword. A tear streaking toward the ground from his cheek. He stands slowly, \"I shall not fail the Lord Prince, nor thee Indilzar, with this charge granted to me...\" He says that slowly, seemingly not knowing what better to say.

A humble smile now purses Drenlyn\'s lips at the ceremony which passes high above the plains of the world. Waiting until all is finished and Maernus receives his sword, Drenlyn\'s voice rises up, a trumpet among the peaks, \"Hail Maernus! Swan-Knight of Dol Amroth! Hail Maernus Calgar!\"

As Drenlyn\'s voice rebounds off the cliff faces, a deep rumbling is heard, as if the mountains themselves seek to take up the cry. And lo! An echo is heard, clear and precise, though dimmer now, voicing the call once more, \"...Hail Maernus! Swan-Knight of Dol Amroth! Hail Maernus Calgar!...\"

Indilzar nods and says, \"I know that shall not happen. Arise and go to your fellows.\"

Indilzar takes a step back, and allows Maernus to go among his friends.

Maernus turns to go back to the camp. He is arguably less steady than when he went up the path. He glances around, turning towards Drenlyn. \"Well, I certainly hope I return home to tell my family of this... I hope to return home to see my family, that would be good... in and of itself.\"

Smiling as the new found knight approaches Drenlyn claps him on the shoulder, as much to congratulate as to steady Maernus, \"You will return to your family and home, do not worry of that.\"

Just then the light abates slightly, the sun breaks through the cloud momentarily, and Drenlyn laughs, \"But see, even in these high places of darkness, light still triumphs, so shall we triumph over all.\"

\"Yes, perhaps we shall all return to our homes in Gondor.\" Maernus says, then he grins. \"And maybe, just maybe, we\'ll all survive this quest and the poets will remember the Unkillable, if not invulnerable, Band of Men who freed the lost sword.\" He glances back towards his still not packed equipment, \"However... for now I must prepare my things, and think, before we leave for the other side of this mountain.\"

\"But see, even in these high places of darkness, light still triumphs, so shall we triumph over all.\"