The Fellowship of the Sword 15 - Meditations
From the archives of the Gondorian
The Lord Girithlin and two Squires share their thoughts.
Track--Along Foothills
A light Winter snow is falling people hurry past you to get to shelter.
You stand just south of the foothills of the Misty Mountains. To the south and
the east lie the rolling plains of Rohan. To the west lies the Gap of Rohan,
along with Isengard, and the River Isen.
Contents:
Thorondur
Maernus
White Pavillion
Obvious exits:
SouthWest leads to Intersection of Great West Road and Old South Road.
West leads to North of the Fords of Isen.
East leads to Plain (south of the Misty Mountains).
Standing erect against the gray background of sky, Drenlyn draws his humble cloak closer, closing off any further cold that surrounds him. Not a sound is heard, though endless wisps of snow float gently to the ground, covering the ground in a carpet of white, mimicking the white of the sky on this cloudy day.
Drenlyn\'s face scans the distant plains of Rohan, before his gaze settles southward. Releasing a sigh, he draws a hand out, letting the gentle flakes of snow melt in his palm. Sighing once more he turns northward and makes for the friendly fire of the camp.
That very fire does crackle and snap merrily, and the sharp scent of wood-smoke fills the air as camp is broken. While all around him men and squires prepare for the long road ahead, Thorondur Girithlin merely stands before the blaze, warming his hands.
When he sees his squire coming, across the dancing tongues of flame, the Herald raises a hand in silent, understated greeting.
Raising his hand in returned greeting, Drenlyn enters the cleared circle of the fire. Striding calmly to the side of the Herald, Drenlyn begins to rub his hands above the merry flames with a smile.
\"Good day sir Thorondur. To think that a sea-faring son like myself, would be found at the foot of mountains camping under a gentle snowfall. I can not begin to envision the places I will find ere our quest be over.\"
A wry smile curls the knight\'s lips. Within his sapphirine eyes, a certain delighted light flickers as Thorondur says to his squire, \"I can help you envision the, Drenlyn. Picture this for me...\"
\"Imagine in your mind... a horse, of white coat, like my Amrandir.\"
Turning to the Herald, Drenlyn nods as his eyes stare blankly into the white landscape, \"Such a vision is easy to muster my lord, though it tells not of where I will be. But indeed my horse is feeling more like a home to me, though I be but a burden to it.\"
\"Very good, Drenlyn,\" Thorondur replies, nodding in approval. \"Now, picture that white horse against the sky -- a sky, mind, filled with white clouds.\"
\"Very well Sir Herald, but what you describe is more like a dream than a vision, one which I often had before Ethir....\" With that Drenlyn becomes silent, and closes his eyes, his face saddening slightly at a memory of lost times.
No, Drenlyn, not a dream nor a vision. Look deeper, lad,\" urges Thorondur, his voice low and insistent, almost a whisper in the squire\'s ear. \"A white horse upon a white field against a white sky... what can you truly see in such a thing?\"
Sighing, Drenlyn\'s face again relaxes, but concentration is quickly drawn on it. Drenlyn replies softly, \"To me Thorondur, it is many things...the image is purity and nobility....adventure and honor...it speaks to me of deliberate swiftness...most of all it speaks to me of the innocence that my brother held.\"
With these last words Drenlyn\'s eyelids begin to flutter. With a quick shake of his head, Drenlyn is once again relaxed with eyes closed.
\"All admirable things, Drenlyn,\" says the Knight-Herald, still quiet in his tone, and yet the words carry as if borne by some underlying strength. \"Admirable, but they are all things. White on white on white. See -nothing- Drenlyn. Clear your mind.\"
A heartbeat\'s pause, a silence, then: \"Can you do so?\"
Sighing Drenlyn\'s face melts into absolute relaxation. Not a motion is found upon his face, yet his lips move, slowly and softly they reply, almost inaudible, \"Aye Thorondur..\"
\"A squire can see the literal, Drenlyn. A knight will look for the meaning behind it. Yet a man of the High Blood can see further.\"
These words, distant and faraway-sounding, are for the ears of the squire alone. No other can hear them, so low does the Lord Girithlin speak. And so he continues:
\"Does Westernesse flow truly in your veins, lad? I know not, yet we shall learn, if we may. Fix that nothingness in your thoughts. Focus on it. Can you do this?\"
y the dancing flames of the morning fire, under the gentle fall of snow, dancing down from the heavens, stands Drenlyn, relaxed and calm. Not a motion can be seen, neither on his face, nor in his body. At last after a pause, his voice, issues forth, an echo from his person, \"Nothingness...aye....\"
\"Good,\" says the knight. \"Now, before you open your eyes, fix that feeling of nothingness, of clarity, of emptiness in your mind. Center on it.\"
Sighing lightly Drenlyn speaks, \"Yes Sir Thorondur, it is done.\"
With that the eyes of the blue squire flutter open, and calmly scan the camp.
\"Excellent!\"
Thorondur slaps the squire amiably upon the shoulder, then. \"Most excellent. I\'ll want you to practice that -- every morning and every night, work on your focus.\"
\"Yes Thorondur, I shall.\" Returning his gaze to the fire, Drenlyn rubs his hands by the dancing flames.