(Archive) The Fellowship of the Sword 56 - Cowardice and Valour

January 17, 2001

Nighttime

North Port

Here is a small stretch of gravelly shingle-beach at the foot of a great stone crag, one of Thror\'s Twins that guard the gates of the Celduin, which rushes by to join the deeper waters of the lake. A small group of buildings and dockworks are built along the shore, usually quiet. Because the river becomes too shallow to navigate a few miles north, here many goods bound for Dale or Erebor or beyond are offloaded and transfered to caravans--and vice versa, from caravans into sturdy knorrs or rafts going the other way. Although the docks handle trade, they were also built to acommodate the ships of Esgaroth in times of war, when the weakfolk needs be sent to Dale or into the Mountain for safety. Besides the actual wharves and utility outbuildings, there are a few small warehouses, the dockmasters place, and an inn, the Twin\'s Toe, built up against the crag itself. There is also a raft service here that will taxi those who wish to go across the rivers mouth to the road on the east side.

Contents: A black Raven (IC Raven Puppet), Huan, Wolf-Hound of Dol Amroth (OOC Hound Object), White Pavillion (OOC Speciesless Object), and Semi-circle of Wains (IC Dwarven Object)

[Amano(#30032)]

Now, is the midnight hour, the time of Night when the Moon, were it visible, would be at the height of its sweeping arc what little light there is, of star and the distant dwellings of the Dwarves, is in this circle of tents overwhelmed by the leaping fire, that for some reason is stoked higher than would be usual for this late hour. Perhaps an overzealous squire, fearing that the flames should die during his watch but those who stand guard seem at the very least glad of the heat, reassuring in this alien land.

Tall and silent, cloaked with sable darker than the surrounding shadows, Amano stands, face turned to the West, as if seeking something there unseen and no weariness there lies upon his brow, rather the shadow of thought, as if his mind were traveling far distant, and not here. Nothing seems to stir, but the crackling logs and the lapping of water against the pebbled shore and the rustlings of night creatures passing, unheeded by the stern guards set about the perimeter of the camp.

[Morrandir(#24549)] The flap of a tent opens, and another figure emerges, also cloaked in black. He surveys the night around him, and then strides toward the fire, casting back his cloak and sitting down in the warmth. Morrandir holds out his hands to warm them, then notices Amano standing nearby. He greets the young Isilrim with a curt nod, then looks back into the dancing flames.

And tis not a stirr coming from about the camp, yet one coming from within. For there cloth is thrown aside, a silent figue emerging in the darkness. All that is visible is some white and blue being his garment, and two clear blue eyes, sullen they gaze about. Though as the figure moves... a ticking accompanies his slow way... for in his right hand he holds something of wood, a crutch or so it seems. No other sound comes from the figure, only staring downward, as if burdened by many, relievance quite far away... Such a way he makes, yet not towards the fire, nay, for this man seems to prefer silence above converse, stars above remarks.

[Amano(#30032)]

\"A good even,\" the tall youth utters, stirring not from his place, but to glance at Morrandir, brought out of his reverie by the sounds breaking the silence that about the camp lay and the click of the Nimothan\'s crutch against the rocky ground. A frown mars his countenance, ere he speaks further: \"Good even to you as well, Rowaen.\" Yet the frown seems as much for the reminder of his friend\'s injuries, than anything else or perhaps the impenetrable darkness cast by the crags towering above the shore. \"So it seems I am not the only one keeping a sleepless vigil, to-night,\" he muses aloud, wryly. \"This land seems a hard and unforgiving one, if not only for its folk..what say you?\" Yet to whom that query is addressed, cannot be told at once.

[Morrandir(#24549)] \"Indeed, I have considered on many occasions hopping on my horse and heading back to Laketown so I could stay in the Inn.\" Morrandir says with a mischevious grin. \"But that of course would not be allowed.\" The Blue-Squire stands, and looks across to Rowaen. \"How do you fare, friend? It is good to see you up and about, though you should be resting at this hour of the night.\"

\"Good eve,\" comes a reply, softly spoken, Rowaen for a moment glancing wearily over his shoulder, seeking if the one who spokes is indeed the one that comes to mind. Yet even such acknowledgement, a certainty seems naught to change his way, nor intensions. Almost carefull now the crutch is placed upon the soil, with each step the young Nimothan takes, if he is indeed afraid to bother other\'s with such a sound. Though as Rowaen makes his way thither, words leave his mouth.

\"More is hard and unforgiving then these mere lands, Amano, many many more...\" such silence speaks already from those words, that the squire holds his tongue, though this only for a moment, for another query is made, one apparently an answer worthy. \"Fare, Morrandir? Nay, I fare not, I stagger... As for rest, tis not such a rest I would need, another is to be preferred, one not easy found.\"

And so the ticking continues, like a blind man finding his way through thick darkness, unsure where to go and where not.

[Amano(#30032)]

A steely gleam flickers as lightning across the grey eyes of the Isilrim, flashing as a hint of fire, though not at the plight of his friend. \"It cannot be said that stubbornness is a trait that I lack but as yet I shall have to salute you on your tenacity, Rowaen, one that will bring you further than sorrows will. Think upon how far you have come, and I am sure it will be not for long that this rest you seek shall be yours. Would that we spoke more to one elven-wise..I should be glad of their words.\" He takes a seat now, across from the others, his pale profile sharp in the firelight. \"Sit, and perhaps rest, at least for a little while,\" he shakes his head at the Nimothan. \"For weariness may be forgot and staved off by more than sleep.\"

[Morrandir(#24549)] Morrandir nods, and watches Rowaen keenly. \"You will recover. And then you and I can go out again seeking glorious combat, only to be sorely wounded once more in the attempt.\" His voice is solemn, yet the gleam in his eye would say otherwise. He sits down again, and rubs his left shoulder, remembering not-so-old wounds.

\"Aye... as my brother thinks aswell, kindly he gave me new titles, the one of \'fool\' and one of \'recklessness\'. To him I endangered the lives of those present when the encounter took place with the acursed... So, indeed tell me was I wrong to act as I had?\" a wry grin Rowaen now forms, still not looking up or about, a soft laughter comes from his lips, yet not one pleasant or of joy. Nay, for this sound, it\'s own filled with mock and sarcasm, \"Perhaps t\'would have been more wise, not to have attempted to escape at all. Perhaps people would speak of me then, dying a valiant death... hah, perhaps even my brother, Faengor would have felt relieved. Look at me now, I live, but for what reasons? To be mocked and looked upon, truly tis not what I had exspected of those I thought of friends.\" And his pace is continued...

\"Isilrim, remember the words of the Herald, when we rode together with him and the Knight-Admiral. He spoke of change! How this journey and all hardships encountered would change us all, and see already then we acknowledged the great wisdom in those words, for have we not indeed changed? Every word he spoke came true... even the soft muttering he added, almost speaking of darkness upon our path, changes not necessarily being ones for the better...\" a smile, though tis not clear whether played or sincere, for the Nimothan betrays nothing of the sort, \"You are a knight, my friend, charish that change and hold it dear, for you earned the honor and the praise attached. Like Drenlyn and Doran earned theirs... and others were given less, other titles, and not necessarily titles...\" Again silence, and again tapping of wood on hard soil... and even then Rowaen seems not finished for how he almost turns as Morrandir speaks, eyes flickering.

\"And yet /still/ you speak of glory Morrandir?! Has your promotion been in vain then? Fine, you recover and go out once more to do your... -glorious- deeds, seek your swift death... it seems injuries hold no meaning for you, perhaps until tis too late, perhaps only will you realize what combat is about when one of your comrads... or even you, will not recover again...\" Here the lad\'s voice sounds uncommon, growling almost at first, lowering to an almost deadly calmth near the end of his phrase, and this time Rowaen moves naught...

[Amano(#30032)]

\"Far more grievous than the wounds of the body, or so have I learned, in what little time we have spent on this journey..\" Where Rowaen\'s voice is full of repressed bitterness, Amano\'s is calm, ever tranquil, as the night would meet the red light of the flames, and even so remain still, \"Are wounds to the spirit, and even though a lifetime should pass in its entirety, still they would not be healed. One may be close to death, and yet be brought back to health yet one stricken with such a malady of the spirit might ail, with a body whole and unmarred. And even more grievous to us would be hurts inflicted upon kin and those we hold dear.\" Now stern his tone becomes, not unkind, but not yielding in the slightest.

\"Rowaen, turn your eyes from yourself. What care those who know you in truth, for the scornful words of your brother, insults hurled in carelessness and without thought? All were glad for your rescue, and it was willingly that many came. They knew full well that there was danger to be had, and bodily hurt. Change has come, yes, in many guises, not all for well, if you say so.\"

[Morrandir(#24549)] \"Rowaen...\" Morrandir says, shaking his head \"forgive me, but it almost seems you shy away from the art of combat. Of course injury and death are nothing nice, if you fear them so much, perhaps a merchant would have been a better profession? My promotion was /because/ of my deeds upon the field. Fighting is what it is all about! Yes, there are other things to do apart from fighting, such as helping those in need. But the bottom line is, the Order exists for war. War against the forces of the enemy. Who ever heard of a squire being knighted for climbing a tree to save a kitten who was trapped? Squires are knighted because of heroic deeds in battle. Being a squire means having to fight, and is there anything so wrong with enjoying one\'s work?\" There is no malice in the squires voice, nay he seems quite lighthearted. He is even smiling as he speaks.

Two expression, both granted to different persons. First one kind, even of respect, tis so Rowaen turns, facing Amano. \"My friend... it is apparent why you were awarded Knighthood, always your words are true and sincere. And is it not truth we can not deny? Aye... one of the reasons why it is the same virtue I value so highly... Words are words, unless those words are based upon solid base... Faengor... I regret to say anger and hatred clouds many times his judgment, so I could not care less for what he speaks. Though I did care for what he seemed to suggested... that I endangered those I call my friends. Such an act, -never- lay it in my intensions to do as so. Yet... I will accept my \'changes\' and speak to those gathered in rescuing me from a harsh fate. T\'would be good to thank them in person, to hear their reasons, as did you... sincerest gratitude is yours, Amano.. Yet!\" And now the younger Nimothan turns to Morrandir, eyes freezing, blue turning solid and cold. How different this expression is then...

\"Morrandir, what is that you speak of? Perhaps you are indeed fortunate I am unable to decently wield a weapon, to show you the arts of /combat/. So you honestly believe you were promoted Blue Squire for murdering orcs and clearing a path for the fellowship? Hah,\" here the Nimothan\'s head is shaken, \"you are even more lost then me then... Foolish words, ones I would order you to retreat, if I had the right to do so... Make another insult as one you just made and be wary for a sparr to prove your right and worth... And thank you Morrandir, for giving me your own peculiar reasons to strive for complete recovery, for you are indeed a fool thinking as so...\" A last glance, the expression upon Rowaen\'s face turning almost sad. Then he silently turns, once more moving, still accompanied by his crutch.

[Arnafel(#29017)]

\"The Order exists...\"

And a living flame of argent draws nigh in the night -- for it is the sigil of the Lord of the Isilrim, crescent moon and four-pronged star and for this reason is he known as the Silver Knight, \"...to preserve. That we must use sword and shield to do so in these dark times is a matter for sorrow.\" And casting back the sable cloak which had veiled him from sight till but moments past, he stoops to cast a faggot in the flames, \"And what awakens such ire in you this night, Rowaen of the Nimothan?\"

\"Ponderings of times past, Milord,\" replies Rowaen almost instantly, as if already he had exspected the Knight-Admiral to be present. Yet all his words are calmly spoken, common glance refound, \"together with advice of true friends, finding relievement in truth and finding anger in foolish words. All is present at this night, one I hope is a good night to you, Lord.\"

A turn, followed by a nod to the Silver Knight\'s person, before Rowaen turns back and continues his way.

[Morrandir(#24549)] Morrandir sighs as Rowaen speaks, and shakes his head sadly. \"I have no wish to quarrel with you Rowaen...things have not been the same since that night on the fringes of Mirkwood...\" He nods to the Knight-Admiral, then draws his cloak tight about him, as though attempting to shut out the world with the fine sable.

[Arnafel(#29017)]

\"Foolish words? Perhaps, but not spoken out of malice, I deem.\"

And seating himself upon a log before the fire, the Knight-Admiral calls out mildly, \"Stay a while yet, Rowaen. I would speak to you.\"

As he is called, he turns...

\"As you wish my Lord...\" and silent Rowaen now stands, though he can not surpress to speak a reply towards Morrandir. \"Perhaps, Morrandir... if you wish no quarrel then do not mention cowardice in regard to my person, for was it naught I, who provided both you and Maernus with a safe departure? I would not have done such a thing if fearing combat and preferring to become a.. \'merchant\' as you kindly stated..\"

[Morrandir(#24549)] The squire looks up at Rowaen and nods, \"For that I shall be eternally grateful. I did not mean to imply that you are a coward, what I meant was...\" Morrandir pauses and shakes his head. \"Never mind.\" he mumbles, looking back at the flames.

\"I mind.\"

So speaks Rowaen in reply to his fellow Squire, eyes once more moving, falling silent upon the seated figure of Morrandir.

[Arnafel(#29017)]

\"Peace, Squires.\"

And in that even voice is the authority of one who has long worn the mantle of command, \"We will have foes enough to face without quarreling amongst ourselves.\" To his kinsman the Lord Isilrim casts a brief glance then, \"Has any word come from the King of the Dwarves, Amano?\"

Respectfull is the nod coming from the Nimothan, for a moment longer his cold glance lingers upon the figure of Morrandir. Only when the Lord Isilrim speaks his query, then the blue ventures, falling silent upon Amano, perhaps curious for the answer.

[Amano(#30032)]

Amano, having said naught for the long moments as words were cast back and forth, bows his head in acknowledgement of his kinsman though a disquet still lies visibly upon his youthful face, he answers, \"Not that I know of, for no messenger has come from their King, or summons as yet, while I was keeping vigil. The Lord Bragollach took counsel with one from among their folk, yet I stayed not long enough to be given news of what passed between them.\"

[Morrandir(#24549)] Morrandir endures the Nimothan\'s gaze, though does not return it. Nay, instead he simply smiles.

[Arnafel(#29017)]

\"No matter\", the Knight-Admiral replies, warming his hands before the fire, \"It will not be long ere we will know if our journey here was for naught, or if Curunir spoke truly.\"

But he pauses then, studying the young Knight with arched brow, \"But something troubles you, I deem.\"

Amano half-shakes his head, shifting slightly upon his seat, and drawing his cloak closer about him. \"Nothing of consequence, sire, only such thoughts that come to one in a strange land far from home, on a task such as this. I remembered my family, and wonder if they know what has passed so far. I would not put it past my brothers to learn of my tale in full from the Houses and the Court, but I never did send any word of where I was going, only a letter to reassure them that all was well, and that I was dwelling in the City. No reply came ever back..\"

[Arnafel(#29017)]

In silence the Silver Knight studies Amano, the moments seeming to stretch on without end in the quiet of the night. And in the end, he says merely, \"Go to Calembel and meet them when we return. It has been long enough, I deem.\" Simple words -- and yet, fraught with a meaning that none save perhaps his kinsman may discern.

To the Squires he turns now, limned with the light of the fire, \"I would speak to the both of you about the night when Rowaen was taken captive.\"

Grave is the nod Rowaen gives towards the Silver Knight, but not before he eyed his friend, Amano, with surprise. Wonder caused by the words spoken to the Isilrim, and expressed by a raised brow. Yet he speaks naught to his friend, only to the Knight-Admiral his words go out.

\"As you wish, milord...\" So Rowaen undertakes another staggering approach, slowly venturing closer to the fire, seeking as less weight on his right leg as possible. If the wound still gave him quite the agony, then he shows naught, for all is concealed behind the cold glance being reflected within his eyes. Though a certain \'tension\' upon the fair complexion cannot be denied...

[Morrandir(#24549)] Morrandir looks at the Knight-Herald, somewhat startled, yet he quickly manages to supress this emotion. \"Of course, Sir. What is it you wish to know?\"

[Arnafel(#29017)]

\"Answer me this\", the Knight-Admiral continues -- yet, of a wholly different matter he speaks now, it would seem! Or does he? -- \"You are upon a mission of the Prince in Osgiliath, and you find yourselves faced with a dozen orcs. What will you do?\"

Calmly spoken comes the reply of the Nimothan, still not near the fire, \"T\'would depend on the mission\'s content, milord, whether one could leave his post and holding his life, unless t\'would bring great dishonor and disobedience upon him. For a dozen orcs, if all armed, would mean a certain death, a death not a matter to speak lightly off, so the mission should be a grave and important one indeed...\"

[Morrandir(#24549)] \"A dozen?\" says Morrandir, eyeing the Knight-Admiral with curiosity. \"Well Sir...I am afraid a dozen is a little too many for one man to handle. I shall have to say that I would creep away, then return with eleven other men of Gondor, and cast down the foul creatures.\" He smiles, satisfied with the answer and casting a sidelong glance at Rowaen.

[Amano(#30032)]

The eyes of Amano glitter at the sudden question posed to the squires, where they had been stone-still and cold, lost perhaps in some remote thought and the replies to it are indeed as different as night and day, even as the two before the Silver Knight are different. He says nothing, however, awaiting the answer from the Lord Isilrim, even as the silence seems to deepen.

[Arnafel(#29017)]

And the Knight-Admiral inclines his brow to the two Squires -- a silent gesture of assent one which is confirmed when he speaks, \"So...different words, but the heart of your answers are the same. Then tell me Squires...why did you fight that night, when there was no task binding you, no orders driving you on? Indeed, why did you go forth unbidden from the camp into the night?\"

And those sudden questions -- measured and slow -- yet hold a certain foreboding in them.

\"T\'was converse milord, and a quest for answers, truth if you may... For earlier we were ambushed there, on several occasions, my mind was troubled, and questions remained. I admit t\'was foolish to return to the acursed place... as I stated when once more orcs drew near. A curse I called it, speaking my regrets we shared the desire to return to the place. Still..\" eyes look up now, away from the ground, straight towards the Silver Knight, \"we were not in search for combat... the orc\'s rushed forward to us and we made a stance, no more... Or at least, those were my intensions at that moment..\" intens Rowaen now looks to Morrandir, whether to see if his fellow squire shared the same intensions, or perhaps had other reasons to engage into combat. And he is indeed curious for the answer, for a moment pain and own person are forgotten. Though a keen eye would discern the darkening of expression, as Rowaen holds his tongue, as if part of his reasons are locked away behind a vast mass of cold and calmth.

[Morrandir(#24549)] \"Aye, Rowaen speaks the truth. We did not seek combat that night, but we got it nevertheless. However we knew something was amis, though perhaps it would have been better to let those of higher standing deal with it...\" Morrandir stares down at the dirt as he speaks, as though ashamed at their foolishnes.

[Arnafel(#29017)]

\"You were foolish, Squires\" -- there is naught of wrath in the Knight-Admiral\'s voice, nor ire but it is no less daunting for all of that -- \"But you have paid the price for your folly...and atoned for it perhaps, with valour. Yet, remember...\"

Rising, he draws close his cloak again, veiling the silver sigil upon his breast, \"...that to retreat is not always cowardice...but sometimes wisdom. And now, I bid you good night -- for the morrow will bring fresh challenges.\"

And he is gone into the shadows.