(Archive) - Hail Drenlyn!

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Weather: Clear

Time: Midnight

Season: Spring

Date: Monday - April 23, 3021

Real Time: Wed Sep 13 19:51:05 2000

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*Note - Log supplied by Drenlyn*

Dol Amroth: Prince\'s Castle - Herald\'s Tower

Here within the Herald\'s Tower lies the sanctuary of the Lord Girithlin, circular and domed. This chamber serves as his personal library, study, and retreat from the world and the Court. As might be expected, shelves circle the walls, filled not only with ancient tomes and scrolls, but other more curious artifacts of his travels. Sunken in the center, the sanctuary proper is reached down a short stair -- three steps -- and richly carpeted in royal blue. There a lebethron table is surrounded by several couches, and a smoky sphere of some amber crystal rests upon it.

The brilliance of the candles -- set in strategic places, and in various teeming candelabra -- make the sanctuary a spectacle of light, in the evening. It is said beyond the walls that the azure windows glow from within, on nights when the candles are lit, and by its eerie blue glow is the Herald\'s Tower known from the city below.

Contents:

Melethron

Thorondur

Obvious exits:

Out leads to Dol Amroth: Prince\'s Castle - Hall of Heralds.

Midnight. Throughout the Citadel, and below in the City itself, bells have tolled the hour not long past. A late hour, out beyond the walls, but oftentimes those who make it their business to be about in the night will look, high and to the west, and espy the arched windows of the Herald\'s Tower shining their ghostly blue from within.

Many wonder at it -- when the Herald sleeps, since the Princess took ill. He must, here and again, but not tonight, for within the study where the blue windows shine, bright candelabra blaze their color.

For himself, Thorondur Edrahil hir Girithlin is settled upon one of several couches, down in the recessed well of the chamber\'s center. A carafe of wine -- half-empty -- and a fine crystal goblet are set before him on the table, along with several weighty tomes, one open of course, in the midst of all this is the dusky amber sphere.

His face burned brown from the sun Drenlyn enters the tower, his pace slowing as he glimpses the brilliance of the room. Scanning the shelves Drenlyn\'s face draws a humble expression as his eyes widen trying to absorb the view. Seeing the Herald, he steps forward bowing low, \"You summoned me my Lord.\"

And there within on this night, rest another figure, tall and strong, young and proud. He rest this figure, fist clasping a fine glass of wine himself.

Yet as the door swings open, and into the room steps the young man, the figure of Melethron turns, and gazes upon the squire, only to sip his wine once more.

The voice of the squire -- Drenlyn\'s voice -- draws Thorondur\'s attention, out from whatever his studies may be. Amiable, the smile that warms his chiseled features: it does not change when Melethron enters behind the lad, though a brow arches, mildly surprised.

\"Come in, both of you,\" the Herald offers, magnanimous. \"Though one of you I have summoned, and one of you comes unawares, you are both welcome. Please... sit.\"

Lightly does the man Melethron set to rest the cup upon one of the many surfaces that rest within the chambers of the Lord Herald, a soft smile on his lips as his fingers lingeringly withdraw from about the glass, he turns now, facing the man who resides within this place, eyes intent as the ghost of a smile fades away.

\"Pardon my intrusion Lord Herald,\" the man speaks easily, \"I see that you have need of this young one\'s time,\" eyes coming to rest upon the one called Drenlyn, watching him as one might gaze upon another in effort to judge them of worth, \"My presence here is merely a courtesy calling, so I shall bide my time until your business with this one has passed it\'s hour.\"

Bowing to the unexpected guest, Drenlyn takes a seat in a chair across from the Herald. Encouraged by the Herald\'s smile, Drenlyn\'s tense figure relaxes as it eases into the chair.

Scanning the shelves of scrolls once more, Drenlyn\'s gaze fixes on the Herald, a look of expectation replacing astonishment.

\"Not \'business\', Melethron... I say to you, sit,\" insists the Herald, mild in tone yet with an undercurrent of iron: a man not often gainsaid. \"Please,\" Thorondur adds, \"for neither one of us would have you flaunt my hospitality. Join us, friend.\" And he nods to a seat beside Drenlyn, meaningfully.

A brief smile, and a wave of the hand follows the words of the Lord Girithlin as the Bragollach takes a seat, \"Forgive my err my Lord,\" he speaks again, and falls silent once more, silvery eyes turned now upon the lad Drenlyn.

\"Thank you,\" murmurs Thorondur through humbly smiling lips, bowing his head gravely to Melethron. Again now does he turn his attention to Drenlyn.

Keen and far-sighted, the sapphire eyes of the Dunadan Lord consider the White Squire. Aloud, he says, \"Drenlyn, of late you had the fortune to accompany me deep into the desert -- lands we have long contested with the Shadow and its thralls. Yet we came and went without ever shedding blood. Do you recall what you had deduced of our mission\'s purpose?\"

\"I do my lord.\" Turning to the Herald, Drenlyn\'s eyes gaze squarely ahead.

\"It was discussed that we were on a peaceful mission in which we were meant to rendezvous with a person or group of people. The purpose of this meeting was to parley for some peaceful settlement or exchange of prisoners. I believe it was either a parley for peace or exchange of some very important persons for we were, on pain of death, forbidden to show any aggression.\"

\"Indeed,\" affirms Thorondur. Now looking to Melethron, he inquires of that knight, \"And now, my lord Bragollach. Would you not say that an ability to restrain one\'s desire for vengeance against the men who killed one\'s own family...\" Here, the Herald\'s eyes flicker to Drenlyn--

\"...for the good of the Order, and at the truthful command of the Prince Imrahil does this not prove great restraint? And is not restraint a facet of wisdom, and in this case, of loyalty?\" And he arches a brow again, after the fashion of a question for Melethron.

Much is learned through the art of listening this night, for even as the two speak, the eyes and ears of Melethron are alert and hungry for news from that of which they speak.

He rests quietly, comfortably within the confines of his seat, hands before him as the two continue to converse.

Yet a question comes unto him, and for a time there is silence from this one, this Bragollach, then, the smooth voice of young Melethron speaks, \"I would name this one not a Bragollach,\" come the man\'s words, a hint of humor lurking within, \"But yet, I ask this of you Squire of the White, from whence did the restraint come, by word of the Prince, or...\" he stops for a moment, \"Was it merely the choice of a wiser man than I?\"

Yet before the question is answer, the man speaks again, \"Restraint does not prove the wisdom of a man, lest he chooses so to restrain himself,\" he stops, a mere pause to let his words sink in, \"Yet in following the given orders by one much greater than he, a man is proven loyal above all, where in lies the path to wisdom.\"

\"I deem this man to be one of wisdom and loyalty my Lord, and I pray that my words are not proven false.\"

Turning to this Knight, Drenlyn face becomes stern. \"Lord, it is true that part of my restraint came from my loyalty to the Prince, but some also came when I saw the reasoning for our orders.\"

Relaxing once again Drenlyn melts back into his seat, \"Either way, lord, I am grateful for your praise, and I will do all that I may to uphold your words.\"

\"Excellent,\" says the Herald, approvingly. And then, tilting his head to the right and eyeing the pair of them strangely, Thorondur wonders, \"Now then. Do either of you know any seamstress of particular skill.\"

A startled look appears on his face, as Drenlyn eyes the Herald, \"I know of only my sister, my Lord, though I do not think she would suffice your needs, nor could she be called on quickly. But I ask as to the reason for a seamstress.\"

A soft smile forms upon the lips of Melethron at this, his eyes glimmer for a minute and then he speaks yet again, \"There are a good number of seamstresses throughout the city my Lord,\" he speaks, \"Yet, I know of none to have surpassed the skill of the tailor Rorgan in the city of Minas Tirth, though I think him not what you seek.\"

\"But then, mayhaps this could be the answer for the question you pose.\"

\"It\'s hardly my needs I require her for, Drenlyn,\" Thorondur tells the lad, a grin slowly fighting to make itself known upon his face. Now looking to Melethron, he adds, \"My lord Bragollach, Rorgan is a fine man -- but tell me, did you sew the blue stripes on yourself, when you gained the higher rank? For young Drenlyn\'s industry impresses me duly.\"

A knowing grin lights both the face and eyes of Melethron, \"Nay,\" speaks the man, \"Though at times I though for sure that my Lord Knight would have required it of me, he was a stern man, interested in breaking me of what he deemed to be foolish pride.\"

Now turns the gaze of the man upon the young Squire, \"Though this one I see, is a far cry from needing the lessons which I was forced to learn,\" he pauses for a minute, \"Think you this one ready for the stripes of blue my Lord?\" Yet to Thorondur Melethron looks not, eyes resting upon the squire for a reaction to this question posed.

Astonished at these words, Drenlyn stands and kneels, \"My lord, if I take your words correctly than I would be honored beyond my dreams. You will not regret such a decision, nor will I ever fail you.\"

A swift glance to Melethron gives the other knight his silent answer, when Drenlyn has made Thorondur his solemn profession of loyalty. Like quicksilver, that knowing smile flashes briefly across his visage, and is gone ere he rises and looks down once more upon the youth.

\"If this is honor beyond your dreams, Drenlyn, I fear for the day you are knighted,\" the Lord Girithlin says kindly. \"But now,\" and his voice turns grave, \"Do I name thee Squire of the Blue Order, of the Swan and the Knighthood most sacred to the Lord of Waters, in service to the One and his holy stewards, the Valar and after them to our Prince, and the King who will come again.\"

A pause, like gathering thunder yet unleashed....

And then does Thorondur say softly, so softly as the whispering breath of a calming sea: \"Arise, Drenlyn I take you now into my own service as Blue Squire.\"

Lifting his burned, brown head, Drenlyn stands with a new air of reassurement and a little pride.

Bowing low to the Herald Drenlyn says, \"Thank you my lord,\" then turning to face Melethron, \"And I thank you lord for being here and for your words of praise.\"

\"My congratulations young Squire,\" Melethron speaks as he rises, \"I pray you will find your place among your future brothers.\" He steps forward, making for the door, only to draw up short beside the one Drenlyn, \"Long is the road to the goal you seek, through many lessons, in weapons, studies, and life itself,\" he pauses, \"Do not lose heart nor hope, for when all has passed, when you have fought for all your worth and been made victorious, you too shall take your place as a Knight of the Swan.\" He continues forward, to the door, \"Farewell for the night my Lord, young Squire,\" and then he passes once more into the night.