(Archive) - Blade or Blood

The soft twinkling light of the glowing candles, obscures the true starlight, bathing the domed ceiling with a uniform field of warmth. A soft scent of fresh flowers wafts about the room, sent aloft by the scattered vases filled with spring flowers. Soft murmuring echoes quietly about the Hall, bouncing from dome to floor, melding into a single voice, the spirit of Dol Amroth.

Staring up at the splendor of the starlight, a giant man lifts his head to the sky. His eyelids flicker for a moment, the eyelashes interlocking as he seems to shift his focus. Yet the quick and excited motion of his hands in front of him, tapping quick fingers against his stomach reveal his excitement and wonder.

Gazing up at the vast dome above him, Drenlyn strides in smelling of horses and grease. With the first signs of dawn appearing, he lets out a vast yawn. Noticing that he is not alone, Drenlyn\'s mouth clamps shut as his face becomes flushed with color.

Glancing about himself uneasily Drenlyn approaches and bows, \"Good morrow sir, or should I say night, for the stars in this room can mislead one about the time of day.\"

The beauty of the room is lost on the sister of Imrahil as she slowly walks into the room, the vestiges of sleep still apparent upon her face as her hand raises to stifle a yawn. Nodding her raven head in agreement as she walks with her retainers, Ivriniel holds one hand aloft to stop the group as she spots the two squires into the room. \"Please excuse me for a moment.\", with that the daughter of Adrahil walks smartly across the room to where the two men are standing and a smile curves her lips as she takes note of the new blue markings on the uniforms.

\"Valgrim! Drenlyn!\", her voice rings out gaily despite the early hour, \'Congratulations on earning the stripes of the Blue Squire\" Silvery grey orbs hold those of her assistant healer for a longer moment as she inquires, \"Did you learn of any new healing herbs whilst on this secret mission?\"

Leaning against a wall, a tall, dark man stares nonchalantly at the floor. He is draped in a long black hooded cloak, and a white tunic is visible beneath, the color a stark contrast to his apparent mood. He is completely still and silent, deep in thought.

Not noticing the Lady Ivriniel\'s approach, Valgrim\'s eyes remain fixed on the ceiling. His only recognition is the quick flare of his nose as the offensive odor of the horse barn drowns the almost fruity scent of the fresh flowers. His mouth opens though, and the words that escape are loud for this quiet serene morning. \"Yes squire. Though beautiful, these flames do conceal the passage of time.\"

Yet, when the Lady addresses the two men, Valgrim gasps, his giant lungs drawing massive amounts of air from the peaceful room. The incoming breath scrapes lightly against his lips, and he barely manages to spit out awkward words in response. \"No Lady. I fear the Lord Thorondur has other tasks for me he finds more important. He does not look favorably on healing as the tasks of a squire I fear.\"

Bowing low Drenlyn greets the Lady Ivriniel with a smile, \"Good morning dear Lady. It is good to see you in such high spirits, it tells that all is well in Dol Amroth.\"

Smile turning to frown, Drenlyn continues, \"Alas my Lady, we traveled through barren lands where only the hardiest plants grew, and for these, I too lacked proper time for inspection.\"

A flicker of irritation passes ever so quickly across the brow of Ivriniel before she masks it behind an expression of tranquility and says softly, \"Lord Thorondur does -not- look favorably on healing as the tasks of a squire?\" Sarcasm drips from her voice as she inquires, \"And what of you? Do you wish to put aside the learning of a lifetime and serve only as a squire?\" Coldness pervades her eyes as she glances up at the tall squire awaiting an answer and then just as quickly, she seems to lose interest and turns to Drenlyn.

Nodding her head in greeting she offers her the full bloom of her smile, \"Good morn to you as well Drenlyn. I will admit to being very happy to see the Knights and squires return from the secret mission to Harad.\" her voice drops off as if meaning to say more and then she adds quickly, \"So most of the land you traveled across was barren? How interesting. I travel to Edhellond to buy herbs from a vendor there that sends someone into Harad to gather them.\" Inquisitive for a moment longer she muses, \"I shall have to inquire as to what part.\"

\"Whatever the Lord Girithlin\'s faults,\" comes a new voice from further down the hall--it belongs, it seems, to the red-clad man ambling towards the group, \"I should not think it inappropriate to lay the learning of a man upon his station. Should a squire learn the art of healing anymore than a leech should learn battlecraft?\"

At this, the grim man looks up from the floor to the newcomer. \"Pardon me Sirs, and Your Grace, but doesn\'t one of the Seven Virtues say something about helping comrades? It is not an infrequent occurrence for a man to be wounded, and therefore if we Squires had some knowledge of healing, surely we could fulfill that virtue much better?\"

Watching the words of each person float from their mouths to pierce the peaceful calm of the spring morning, Valgrim awaits a pause to inject his own voice. When his mouth opens and his full lips part to speak into the cold air, the tone that erupts seems to nearly shatter the dome, though unintentionally from the expression of the squire.

\"Lady. I still value the art of healing, though I fear the pursuit of said craft has been hampered by my duties currently. I do still wish to understand those skills though.\" Directing his words now at both the Lady and the red clad man, Valgrim speaks. \"A well learned man is a well valued man, and I believe all people could benefit from at least a small knowledge of many skills.\"

\"And is it not also said that \'small knowledge is worse than no knowledge at all\'?\" replies the newcomer, a man in his middle-years, of severe face--it can only be Borgilas the Bragollach. \"A man thinking that he knoweth the arts of healing might essay a technique beyond his skill and ken a lesser man might merely wait for those who are practiced in such affairs.\"

\"But Sir,\" the dark-clad man replies. \"What is one to do if there is no man near who is well practiced? Are we to let our friends die?\"

Borgilas says, \"Unction, of course, demands action and yet I do not think those unlearned should be too ready to practice their arts, and I do not think it best for a single man to spread his talents too widely.\"

Valgrim chuckles as he perceives the many varied opinions bandied about the Hall, like darting dragonflies above a placid lake. He smiles, a warm and welcoming expression, his mouth pulling upward at the edges. In response to the Lord Borgilas\'s comment, Valgrim replies, his voice gentle and understanding.

\"Lord. These are all just opinions. Whether it be better to obtain full knowledge of a subject or be well read. Yet in the end, it is likely a middle ground which is preferred. A man can both be stranded without the assistance needed, or attempt a procedure beyond his knowledge. Both can be debilitating.\"

Borgilas glances to Valgrim, and nods. \"Verily,\" he agrees, \"And yet when at stake is another\'s life, surely it is better to err in favor of reticence?\"

The dark-man smiles to himself and shakes his head, thinking it best to stay out of this debate.

An expression not readable covers the face of Lady Ivriniel as she stiffens slightly at the sound of the voice of the Lord Bragollach and then she turns smoothly and nods her head in greeting, \"Borgilas. Good morn to you.\" Listening to the voices of the men as they discuss the matter of leechcraft, Ivriniel withholds her own comments for a time as she carefully considers their words and then turns to Valgrim with a smile, \"I recall the first day you stepped foot into the Halls of Healing, the thirst for knowledge clearly written upon your face.\"

\"I would hope that you hold true to the desire of your heart...to aid Gondor with the ability of your sword -and- the healing knowledge that you carry.\"

Borgilas nods to the Lady briefly, but leaves his attention focussed chiefly upon the enormous figure of Valgrim.

Jerking his head this between speakers, following the discussion, Drenlyn gives up and turns his eyes to the ceiling once more. The stars begin to wink out as the light of day sweeps the Hall, bringing the group into the full light of morning. Returning his gaze to the group, Drenlyn interjects, \"If you will pardon me my Lord, my Lady, Valgrim, and good sir, I must finish my morning duties, but I shall return before long.\"

With that Drenlyn strides solidly out of the room, gazing at the brilliant flowers grasping their first light of day.

Nodding in affirmation of the Lady\'s words, a few wayward strands of dark hair fall across Valgrim\'s forehead. His nod is deep, nearly a bow, meant to transfer his respect to both her and the Lord Borgilas. Yet those looking closely will perceive a faint cloud behind his eyes, frustration perhaps at the conflicting perspectives before him.

His voice firm and loud, pierces the Hall. \"Yes Lady, I pursue both. Were I to pursue the knowledge of merchantship, scouting, or other trade skills, I am sure my knowledge would barely be worth the time. However, pursuing both the skills of a warrior and healer permit me time to learn much of both.\"

His grey eyes still fixed upon the floor the dark-man once again speaks, this time in a very low voice, his words directed at no one in particular. \"However of late I have learned not to place too much faith in a healer...\"

\"My name kind Lord,\" replies Drenlyn with a smile, \"is Drenlyn, son of Drenelither. But now since you now have my name, it would only be fair that I get yours my Lord.\"

Quickly noting the cloud of frustration in the eyes of her assistant Ivriniel lays one hand upon his massive arm and says ever so softly, barely audible to those standing nearby, \"Perhaps the two roles are conflicting and should be taken under advisement?\" A look of disappointment flits across her brow and then she sighs, \"Service to House Imrazor and the Order of the Knight must come first, by all means. And yet....I would hate to see one as gifted as yourself lay down the knowledge and not quest for more.\"

The leaving of Drenlyn is halted by the words of Borgilas and they bring a smile curving the lips of Ivriniel as her eyes watch the interplay among these proud men...a look of pride flashing in her own as she says, \"Dol Amroth has the finest men in all of Gondor.\"

The Bragollach arches one eyebrow, then, in surprise. \"Dost know me not?\" He turns in some incredulity to the other two present, but sees with a flash of annoyance that they are involved in their own conversation now he turns back, somewhat deflated, to Drenlyn. \"Borgilas I am called, of the Bragollach line Knight of the Swan I shall see to it that thou and thy fellow-Blues have some greater knowledge of me in the future.\" This last is ominous, with hints of thunder in the Lord\'s words.

\"The Lord-Steward would disagree I think, my sister.\"

Wry and amused, the voice sounds from the eastern archway -- thither stands one known well to all who dwell nigh the cliffs of Dol Amroth -- indeed, to all of Gondor. Tall and clad in raiment stained by the dust of travel, the Son of Adrahil strides into the domed chamber.

A look of embarrassment sweeps over Drenlyn\'s face, \"Forgive me my Lord, one of your standing should not be so ignorantly unrecognized. I shall ensure that my fellow squires will also know you on sight, to ensure that they honor your standing.\"

The dark clouds that plagued the young squire\'s mind, reflected in his eyes, is struck away with her words. As if struck down by the sword of command and bled clean, Valgrim stares closely at the Lady. His face takes on a hardness and conviction harsh as steel.

\"Lady. Perhaps you misunderstand me. Never did I request a leave of your command, nor did I suggest giving up my resolute is still strong. I will pursue the knowledge still...\" And yet, his words are halted by the arrival of the Prince, the meaning not yet sinking into his large skull.

The sound of her brother\'s voice brings a light of joy to the expression of Ivriniel as she whirls on her heel and says aloud, \"Imrahil!\" Puzzled by his words she inquires, \"The Lord-Steward would disagree?\" Shaking her head as if lost in all of the conversations whirling around her, the sister of Imrahil falls silent.

At the arrival of the Prince--flashing silver and blue, like some piscine brought from the deeps of the Bay beyond--Borgilas breaks off and turns, offering a sedate bow and inclination of his head.

Drenlyn, following Borgilas\' suit, bows low as the Prince enters.

Watching the Knight bow before the Prince seems to cast a spark in Valgrim\'s mind, fueling the fire of remembrance. He too bows deeply to the Prince Imrahil, his massive bulk moving surprisingly gracefully.

Morrandir , the dark clad man looks up from the floor and follows suit.

Borgilas turns again to Drenlyn, and says quietly, \"I think that we have overlooked the squires too long...soon enough I should think another will be joined to your ranks, and then we should call together all who seek their Spurs in the Prince\'s service...I shall send word to thee, then, Drenlyn the Blue.\" With that, his piece said, Borgilas turns away from Drenlyn and moves toward the Prince.

\"You would find that he cares little for naming the Men of Dol Amroth the stoutest in Gondor. In this, I deem, he judges truly\" -- but there is no sting to the words, for the amusement lingering yet in the Prince\'s eyes belie them. And an inclined head in greeting to all these others -- but to Borgilas, a smile. Little more is needed between these two who have striven together for Gondor through all the years -- ere he turns to Valgrim.

\"But what is this about giving up the Lady Ivriniel\'s teachings?\"

Valgrim shakes his head quickly, so as to squelch the growing thought in the Prince\'s head. His words escape from his mouth quickly on the heels of the Prince\'s question. \"No Lord. I fear you missed the beginning of the conversation. She simply asked had I obtained any interesting herbs while in Harad. I explained our task there did not permit me time to do much searching for plants.\"

Glancing quickly to the back of the Lord Borgilas to appraise his attention, the squire continues. \"The Lord Borgilas suggested I concentrate on my squiredom so I wished to clarify to the lady that my effort, will, and desire lie upon both paths, a trail I try to tread with balance and precision.\"

Borgilas moves to stand near Imrahil, adding his voice to the enormous squire\'s explanation. \"Verily, Highness it is my thought that leechcraft and battlecraft are divers entities one cannot be a master of both, and should turn one\'s attention hither or thither.\"

A flare of color brightens the cheeks of the sister of Imrahil, first in embarrassment and then amusement as her silvery grey orbs catch the humor in those of her brother. Offering Imrahil a smile she says slyly, \'Perhaps that job is one for the women of Gondor?\" Smiling as she admires the men of Dol Amroth gathered around their Prince, the sister of Imrahil again falls silent as she watches the men. Long does her glance rest on the tall giant of a man as he speaks in earnest to Imrahil, a nod of approval bending her raven tressed head.

The words of Borgilas bring a frown to her face as she interjects, \"My greatest wish is that the squires and Knights that wish it, be knowledgeable, to some extent of healing.\" Her eyes glance around the room at those present as she explains, \"This will help save the lives of many as some healing is done on the fields of battle before the men can be rescued and brought to the healers tent.\" Shaking her head in sadness, \"Too many have died upon the field that could have been saved with the simple application of a tourniquet or other life saving methods.\"

Borgilas says, \"Indeed, lady? And I have seen men reduced to half-men by the application of such methods--a sword-stroke to a leg results suddenly in no mere scar, but a replacement of wood and a confinement to sickhouses for years on end...\"

Morrandir says, \"And that is not preferable to death, good Sir?\"

Borgilas turns to Morrandir, and eyes him before replying.

Before the young squire\'s eyes, the debate of ideas has turned into a heated argument nearly. Valgrim\'s mouth turns down, a frown of disappointment cursing his face, and his eyes squint, intensely following the discussion.

Grunting slightly, Borgilas at last answers Morrandir: \"If death indeed were to come, perhaps perhaps not. But I do not trust the half-trained to judge whether or not such methods are meet for the occasion--thus is the crux of mine argument.\"

Lady Ivriniel interjects, \"Hence the reason for extensive training for the men that wish to aid their fellow man. Be it not an unlearned application of a tourniquet that results in crippling.\" Her voice rings out clearly, \'And another instance, would be the bloody field of Umbar some years past. In all the chaos and confusion, compresses and bindings could have brought more men back home to Gondor.\"

Borgilas turns to Lady Ivriniel. \"How may a man have extensive training in *both*, Lady? Time is not a mistress so given to such grants...a path must be chosen, for these two especially diverge.\"

\"\"Hold.\" A raised hand and a level voice bearing the full weight of command -- and the Prince casts a brief glance to the two by his side, \"You are both right in this. Borgilas, there are no few among the Knights who are held to be healers of note -- and sister, the hand which sheds blood can never learn the arts of healing as well as those which have never struck down another.\"

To Valgrim the Prince\'s gaze returns, as if measuring the tall youth against his ambitions, \"What would you say for yourself, Squire?\"

Shaking her head vehemently, Ivriniel states, \"There is time to learn the basic techniques the healers use. I am not talking the years and years...a lifetime one would have to devote to learn each herb and its use. I am talking saving lives on the field of battle...getting the men to the safety of the healers\' tent....\", her voice is cut short as the hand of Imrahil is raised and he speaks one word.

Denlyn\'s gaze darts back and forth among the speakers. Finally resting on his fellow squire, awaiting an answer to the prince\'s question.

Morrandir looks to Ivriniel and nods, clearly in agreement with her.

Shocked by the sudden eyes that all turn toward the squire, Valgrim blinks a few times, like a deer sighted in the open before it bounds for the treeline. Yet the confusion escapes quickly to the recesses of the squire\'s mind, replaced by clarity and purpose.

Setting his jaw with an expression of confidence, Valgrim replies. \"Lord, while I respect both the opinions of the Lord and Lady, I feel it beneficial to learn at least enough of the healing arts to understand when it is fruitful to apply the knowledge. In addition, I can not help but think that knowledge of healing wounds may provide some assistance in inflicting them as well. An understanding of the human body and its weaknesses is useful in both fields.\"

Borgilas arches an eyebrow at this last, somewhat surprised. He eyes Valgrim considering. \"This last, I must say, had not occurred to me...I find it intriguing.\"

Ivriniel gasps softly and then her words are of obvious shock as she says incredulously, \'I had not thought of it in that way Valgrim.\" Her expression is one of newfound respect as she looks to the tall squire and then shaking her head in amazement she doth ask, \"Did you think of the relationship of healing and hurting by yourself?\"

The Squire\'s words earn approval from his fellow-squires and the Seneschal, it would seem -- but not the Prince, for his brow furrows, and his gaze grows stern.

\"If you wish to learn leechcraft to aid others, then it is well...but I will not have my Squires learn the craft of saving lives so that they may better slay others.\"

Glancing about the group, confused by everyone\'s utter surprise, Valgrim slowly nods. His hair again falls onto his forehead, but is quickly flicked away with the practiced motion of a thick-fingered hand.

His voice, now taking on a deeper confidence, responds to the Lady\'s question. \"Of course Lady. I would not take another\'s thoughts and claim them as my own. It seems elementary. After all, both fields deal with the human body, simply in different ways.\"

Ivriniel speaks out clearly, \"Imrahil. Think of it in this aspect....he may also slay in a kinder method since he would know how to end a life quicker. There is a dual edge to that sword.\"

Borgilas arches a brow again as he eyes Ivriniel. \"Besides which, Highness--the point of the contest is not to slay valorously, but well. If it is not desirous to slay the enemy more quickly...why, we might arm our Knights instead with mud and stones instead of sharpened steel...\"

Ivriniel says again, in defense of the statement of Valgrim, \"No. I still think it has merit. If the life of your enemy is ended more quickly, then there is even less chance of your own being in danger. Is that not true?\" Looking to Borgilas with sincerity in her eyes she says, \"I am not learned in the ways of fighting and Knights. My thoughts are of saying lives\"

Borgilas shrugs. \"Saving our own or ending the enemies\' more swiftly--it is all the same.\"

Nodding in agreement with Borgilas, the sister of Imrahil says, \"Then we are in accord on this issue.\" A twinkling of eyes is seen and a ghost of a smile before her head is dropped and her hand brushes some imaginary lint from her gown.

Morrandir once again joins the conversation, saying \"But isn\'t the quickest way of slaying an opponent simply aiming for the neck or heart? It does not take any medical knowledge to achieve that.\"

An inclined head, and the aged knight is off.

For a moment longer, Imrahil regards the Princess and the Seneschal, ere turning of a sudden to the other Squires who stand thither, \"And what think you of this matter?\"

Following Borgilas, Drenlyn bows and says \"I too should return to my morning tasks, good day my lord, Lady, squires.\" With that Drenlyn departs.

Calling out to the departing knight, Ivriniel says, \"Good day Borgilas. Perhaps we shall..\", her voice ending abruptly as Imrahil speaks to the men still standing in the Hall of Stars. Nodding her head to Drenlyn she gives him a warm smile as she offers, \"Again. Congratulations on the blue stripes.\"

\"Well your Highness,\" replies Morrandir with wavering confidence. \"I would have no qualms with learning basic healing skills to serve me on the field.\"

Morrandir says, \"Not that I have ever seen combat...\" Morrandir quickly adds with a slight frown.\"

Waiting expectantly to hear the other squires, Valgrim glances their way. His eyes carry a spark, an excited energy that was born of an idea and grown to a tiny sapling already.

Thoughtfully, the White Lady of Belfalas stands among the group of men....her shifting expressions indication of the conflict. Turning back to her kinsmen, Ivriniel looks asks, \"Imrahil. What think you of these last few statements?\"

The words of the squire stack upon those that have spoken before him, like layers of fertile soil built as a bed to grow a tiny tree. His eyes still asparkle, he turns to the Prince and Princess, eager to witness their response.

Wearing a freshly washed tunic, Drenlyn strides into the Hall. Though his body shows signs of fatigue, Drenlyn\'s face still emits a friendly smile, as he gains new vigor upon seeing the prince, princess, and squires still in the hall.

Bowing low to the Princess Drenlyn interjects, \"Pardon my Lady, but has ground been made with our previous predicament?\"

Valgrim shrugs slightly, his shoulders rising with a confident but clueless expression. \"I do not know what the Lords and Ladies wish to do with this idea, if anything. But, I intend on continuing in my course of study. I believe my knowledge of the body will help me to not only heal it, but to hurt my enemies more efficiently.\"

\"Begging your pardon Sir,\" says Morrandir, turning to Valgrim, \"but explain this \'hurting more efficiently\' concept of yours. Is there a better way to kill an opponent than to run a sword into his throat or heart?\"

Drenlyn, nodding with agreement says, \"I too feel that a squire should learn all that he can about the world, especially the arts that may help him save the lives of knights, or harm his enemies more.\"

[Imrahil(#29017)->Ivriniel]

\"To take a fair thing and turn it to a dark purpose is the work of the East. Whether it is to slay kindly or swiftly...\"

Gravely Imrahil regards the young men and the Princess, each bearing the weight of his words in equal measure, \"...matters little. Indeed, if it is this path we must follow to hold back the Shadow, then perhaps the price is too high. Bear that well in mind, Squires.\"

A retainer to the Prince rushes into the room before Imrahil can hear the words of the other squires. Finding the Prince, he bows before him and says, \"Your highness, I must speak with you at once.\" Quietly their heads bend in conversation and then the two men leave with little more than a cursory nod to those in the Hall of the Stars.

Surprise clearly shows before Ivriniel masks it with a pleasant expression and says to the squires, \"I suppose the final answer to this one shall have to come from my brother at another time.\" Nodding in agreement at the words of Drenlyn she says, \"I think many good points were made and I look forward to further discussing them at another time. But now, I must make my apologizes as the sun is climbing into the sky and there are those in the Halls of healing that need my attention.\" Giving each man a glance...a smile upon her lips and nod of her head, Ivriniel says quite simply, \"Good day gentleman.\" With that, the White Lady of Belfalas turns from the group and gracefully glides towards the door.

\"My dear white squire,\" replies Drenlyn, \"indeed those are two areas which one can swiftly kill an opponent, but they are also heavily guarded by any combatant. The key is to find the least guarded, but most deadly area.\"

Drenlyn, bows low as the lady departs.

Morrandir nods in agreement at Drenlyn\'s statement, then bows at the departure of Ivriniel.

Bowing deeply at the departure of the Lady, Valgrim grins as she departs. Over her shoulder, he throws a quick parting reply. \"Good Bye Lady. I shall stop by the Hall of Healing soon.\"

With the departure of the Lady, Valgrim returns to the conversation for one more brief moment. He first listens to the blue squire, then injects his own opinion.

\"You are correct Drenlyn. However, that knowledge of the human body is what may enable an efficient fighter to find both the best and least protected area. Unfortunately, if I am to do as I said and stop by to see the lady at the Halls of Healing, I have much I have to do today.

The most recent words of the blue squire are injected into Valgrim\'s brain, boring holes through his ears. A smile breaks out upon his face at comprehension of the words. \"Grand Drenlyn. I will come to get you before I leave for the Lady\'s office then. You will be available?\"

Drenlyn nods, \"Such is the life of a squire. I too must be off but I thank you for your insight Valgrim, and I shall await you. And to you white squire I bid you farewell.\"

Turning sharply Drenlyn leaves the room, starring at the high dome, as the noon day light washes away the starlight effect.

Morrandir nods to both Blue Squires in farewell, then once again returns to his former occupation of simply staring down at the finely polished floor.