(Archive) Rorgan and Melethron

Training Ground

The training grounds spread out in a semicircle, rimmed on the sides by a wall, and bordered in the back by the towering Mount Mindolluin which rises above until it melts into the clouds. The open grounds offer a stark contrast to the stone cobbled streets of Minas Tirith- here dirt cakes the ground, muffling the footsteps of the soldiers of the city as they train. Frequent drills and large troop maneuvers are held in the grounds with the sounds of clanging metal ringing out onto the adjacent street as guardsmen cross swords in mock combat.

The sun slowly rises in the sky, spreading its brilliant light upon Gondor.

Dawns\' approach is heralded by the brilliant streaks of blood red on the horizon, but the blazing ball of the sun has yet to show itself in the skies above. The early morning has yet to give way to the coming of people into the streets of Minas Tirith, though even at this time there are members of the Guard that reside here practicing, ever practicing with thier weapons of choice.

As the pair of men enter the field, a few stop to watch Melethron enter, some point, some smile, nearly all unconciously rub spots that within their armor hold bruises from thier sparring matches with this man.

The Knight approaches a plot of land, removes his cloak and turns once more to Rorgan, \"Shall we set rules to this duel?,\" he questions in a voice full of anticipation, \"Or shall we see who yeilds first?\"

Smiling to the knight, as he, too, removes his cloak, the Guildmaster of Tailors is also the subject of no small conjecture among the men in the area, and a pair of guardsmen can be overheard laying odds on the \'duel\' between the two men, \"Whomever shall yeild first is well enough by me, friend Melethron.\"

Drawing his sword with a flourish, Rorgan grins at the knight, \"I\'d like to strike a bargain with you, Melethron.\"

\"I shall hear of this deal my good man,\" The Knight says, his sword seeming to appear in his hand with a motion as fluid as one long accustomed and trained in the use of the weapon.

Rorgan smiles and nods approvingly at the drawing of the knights sword. \"I think we have much we could teach each other, friend knight,\" the Tailor says as his blade reaches out slowly to tap the knight\'s, the small ting bringing near silence to the training grounds, and in that silence, Rorgan\'s blade turns and flashes toward the knight\'s sword arm, even as his body nimbly turns to the side, taking on the stance of some bastardized form of shieldless fighting with no small grace for a man with as much grey in his hair as the Guildmaster has.

The ring of blade on blade sounds stronger this time as the Knight\'s sword darts to block the in rushing blow, the blade held for a span of time which allows the Knight to smile and nods, \"So each shall teach...\" but if more is said it is lost as the Guildmasters blade is pushed high the Knight\'s own blade accompanying it forcing him to step back far enough for the two weapons to seperate. Circling about the man, Melethron continues to grin, then quickly, like a lightning bolt does he move, the speed of youth and adrenaline adding to his dexterity, two steps left, then feint to the right, a clash of swords, then a roll to the left yet again to which the blade whistles through the air towards Rorgan\'s body, the dulled padding doing little to slow the motions.

\"Ah! Quite good!\" Rorgan cries as his legs carry him back out of the reach of the blow, a smile reforming on his face as he calmly re-centers his own blade and then makes his own feint, pulling his blade up short of sticking the point into the knight\'s eye. \"The Lady Isilrim says I am her champion, and by default the champion of that house, Melethron, but I am no knight, and I know little of what would be expected of such.\" Then the Tailor ducks and spins, again turning the blade flat as it streaks toward Melethron\'s legs.

A quick hop and a downward slash of his blade and the sound of steel on steel rings again, \"To be a Knight...\" the man starts, holding the sword in place, \"There are many things one must do...,\" a quick flip of the wrist and Rorgan\'s sword is pushed aside, \"There are rules within the order...\" One, then two steps, a stinging clash of the blades and Melethron is away again, \"Love, Honour, Mercy, Courage... the things that are virtuous in all men.\" Almost as a pause the Knight stops and looks to Rorgan\'s blade for a moment, \"I am not the best of those within the order of the Swan, but with each passing day I become more and more attuned to the code by which we follow, the hardest being that of humility...\" But the second of hesitation passes, the Knight is all fluid motions once more, a diagonal slash is met by the blade of Rorgan, an upward cut resides the same fate, a low flying slash is deflected, \"There is much to learn, much to live by...\" A high swing that in midstroke turns sideways to the midsection rather than the shoulder where it was aimed.

The blades ring again, this time the loudest so far as the tailor shakes his head teasingly, \"Why do you find it hard to be humble, Melethron?\" the blades ring again and again as the Tailor begins to show that despite a somewhat lame leg, he does know the dance of dances, slash perry feint thrust slash feint feint, and then the Tailor\'s sword swings free, and sidestepping thrice, the flat of his blade swings now for the buttocks of the knight.

A near arm wretching move is offered to block the blow to his rear as Melethron shoves his sword over his shoulder while kneeling to the ground. As the blow connects he flings the sword up and rolls forward to come back to his feet once more a good five steps away from Rorgan, a quick spin and they are facing each other again. \"Humility is a thing that I have little knowledge of, and one of my greatest faults...,\" the circling begins again, \"When alone with someone I am as humble as the next, but when in the presence of many...\" two steps left, one right, three left all the while sword moving and ringing with connecting blows the last of which is held, \"Especially those who look upon me as a figurehead of something or are judging me to be something I am not...\" Rorgan\'s blade is thrust away once more, almost instantly is Melethron\'s moving again, a blow that is easily blocked, \"it is then that I lose myself.\" The easy blow, almost careless, a careful ploy to throw the opponent offguard. Blades move again, Melethron\'s darting to the side one way, then a spinning move carries it quickly the opposite direction.

CLANG! Steel meets steel again, as the tailor smiles at the knight, \"Then that is why you consider it to be the most difficult.\" Again his blade meets that of Melethron and again and again as the old man grins and dances a bit himself, slidestep forward and his thrust is pushed away, sidestep and downward slash likewise meeting with a ringing of steel.

\"But you speak not to my true question, Melethron. I have a loose understanding of the code by which you are expected to live, and from what I\'ve seen that is more than enough.\" His blade flashes high now and upon being blocked or pushed away, a flick of the Tailor\'s wrists send it low yet again. \"I want to know what is expected of the champion of a house, Sir Melethron!\" His blade now sings forth one more time a sudden lightening strike at the upper weapon arm of the knight.

A slip of the defense and the blow connects, casting the Knight\'s blade aside, \"Good blow,\" the man says never taking his eyes from Rorgan, nor speaking the words to end this duel, \"A champion is mere a Knight who represent the house as a whole...,\" As Rorgan swings yet again, the Knight ducks, rolls to his blade and comes up with it once more though does not swing, \"they are expected to be the examples for others to look upon,\" a parry to the next blow, the Lord on defense now, the next few blows deflected with ease. \"But you being the husband of Maeghan, not the true lord of the Isilrim, you will not be a noble born and will thus be looked down upon some of those who see the blood of Numenor in thier viens as a right to feel superior..\" A twirling motion of the body and the Knight is a few steps away, but getting close to the wall of the training grounds, \"A flaw I am trying to correct in myself.\"

Still smiling the Tailor\'s blade flashes in yet again, pressing his advantage now that his opponent is pressed near the wall, \"Accepting others for who they are, friend, is an important step toward humility.\" And the blades ring out again as Rorgan begins to herd the younger knight ever closer to the wall of the training yard. The other men in the training grounds have abandoned all pretenses of training to observe the match as it begins to ebb and flow over ever more ground, the tailor\'s blade ever darting and blocking the return blows of the knight. The lanugage of gambling runs throughout the men of the Minas Tirith guard even after those that won on their first-strike bets finish collecting their money.

\"Such is the way of fate, Melethron, to cause oppositions within the self over what one has been taught and what one knows to be right.\" The feet of the tailor move about effortlessly, seemingly hemming in the knight on all sides at once and the blades still ring upon each other, and the Guardsmen shout encoragement to whichever of the men they think will win them their bet. \"I do not wish for you to look down upon me for lack of a noble birth, Melethron, but there was a time when harsher thoughts about you have crossed my own mind. Remember that the Lord of your house accepts me and allows me to fight at his side as his equal.\" Again and again the blades ring their chimes in rhythmic cadence to the dance the two men weave around themselves, and Rorgan\'s blade now swings forth more intent on stinging the man again, this time through an opening at the man\'s side.

The blade is turned aside, but only barely, turned and pushed away, but the wall is then at the Knight\'s back and a slight rise in the mummering of the guards as they begin to make higher wagers on the Tailor, \"There is that,\" the Knight says his blade swinging futily, again his back is pressed to the wall.

With little left to do, the Knight smiles mysteriously, \"Truth be known Rorgan,\" the words stop as a flurry of swings break forth from the Man, forcing Rorgan back a few steps, but then the Knight turns and runs dead at the wall with the Tailor chasing him, a foot is planted, and over the elder man does the Knight flip not an easy feat but one accomplished with some awkwardness by the Knight even though upon landing he falls to the ground and rolls backwards to come up on his feet once more, \"There are times when I could have brought my blade to your throat for nothing more than the knowledge that Maeghan loved you over I, but I find it odd that that same knowledge and that debt of saving my life held my hand where my heart and mind wanted to go.\" The Knight stands there, watching the man for a time, no weapons moving, the soldiers quiet, \"Time and again I have watched you charge into battle, and time again again I have secretly thought of what it must be like to hold a woman of such beauty and pureness by heart and love,\" his words continue to spill forth as if a damn had broken within him, \"Know this Rorgan, I see you for who you are, I look down on you at times because the fear of wanting to be like you rises within me, but now I come to see that you will be the best of champions, never will I look upon you and see anything less than the Lord of the Isilrims, Champion of Maeghan the Fair, Defender of Gondor and Brother of the Swan.\" With that the Swan-Knight kneels, raising his sword before him announcing his yeilding to the man.

Rorgan smiles to the knight, giving the man a respectful bow sword pommel pressed against his forehead before sheathing his sword, \"I think we have both come a long way today, friend.\" He offers the knight a hand to regain his feet.

A quick smile and a reaching out for a helping hand and Melethron rises once more to his feet, \"I believe we have my friend,\" without knowing it the sword has been replaced within his sheathe, \"I look forward to our trip to Rohan, I will see you wed to the Lady Isilrim.\"

Rorgan smiles and nods, \"Now if you will forgive me, or if you would care to join me, either way is fine, I do have some pressing business to take care of.\" He shrugs, \"The same as any day.\" He smiles again, the truest smile his good nature allows and turns to leave the training field.

\"Go my friend,\" The Knight says, softly so that only they two can hear even though the guards have even now gone back to their training, \"There is someone I must see first, an old friend I haven\'t talked to in quite awhile,\" he smiles and pats the man on the shoulder, \"Later tonight, meet me in the White Tree Inn and we shall dine and talk of times past.\"

d to in quite awhile,\" he smiles and pats the man on the shoulder, \"Later tonight, meet me in the White Tree Inn and we shall dine and talk of times past.\"