A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby Idril » Wed Jul 24, 2013 8:40 pm

After she has rested, she got up and went out as quietly as possible. She made her way towards the stable and could see that Thunder was resting so she went for a walk in the rather large meadow. The sun had not yet graced the Beornings homeland with its rays or the heat of its face but it was a very nice morning with the light of the new day gracing the sky, turning it to a pale blue. The sun should be up completely in the next couple hours. She admired the peaceful meadow and the area that Beorn’s Great family had chosen as their homeland. Edged by forest on one side and the River Langflood, she could hear the Carrock in the distance. She wondered how the dawn would be this day. Beautiful beyond words but what would this day bring, she wondered. Would Meneldor carry her all the way to where Dirk’s body lay in state or would it take them longer? She slowly made her way towards where her friend was resting. She was hoping to find him awake but she could see that he still slept. She would find a place to sit and watch both her friends until one of them stirred to wakefulness.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby Cock-Robin » Thu Jul 25, 2013 6:26 am

And while he slept, Idril would see a faint glow, a penumbra around him, as if his true self was shining through. In his dreams, he was flying far and wide, always in sight of the holy mountain Taniquetil. His true home. It would be seemingly ages before he set his beak to his true home in the West, but he could dream about it, and so comfort himself in the sorrows of Middle-Earth. Such was the way of the Great Eagles.

Still in his dream, he lifted up his beak in song, a song he was singing out loud, even though he was still asleep:

Lofty, soaring,
I ascend the mountain of wind
In the night sky.

The stars of Varda shine upon me
As I soar to the holy Mountain,
Sorrows forgotten for a time.

My fate,
as servant of Manwë, herald of Mandos,
Binds me to Middle-Earth,
Until my task is done.

But a gift is granted me,
To fly the hidden paths,
Until the appointed time,
When I rejoin my ancient kin.

But when, and with who
Shall I make that long journey?
Where light goes brighter and brighter,
Until the green land
Behind a swift sunrise,
That draws me like a lodestone,
To my long home?

My companion, my friend,
the one whose form,
My waking eyes first alight,
She is the one who accompanies me
At the appointed time,
When sorrows fall from my feathers like rain on my wings.

And songs we shall sing together,
Songs new and songs forgotten,
As the Road unfolds before us.

But until then,
We comfort one another,
In this dark and dreary world,
Where the memories of great things,
Of glory and of light,
Are already fading,
Forgotten by mortal men,
Except in the mists of legend.

Such is our fate,
And so I serve in that light,
Never forgetting my true home,
Which calls to me night and day.

But soon, the collar of mithril
Shall adorn me,
As the Knights bestow the honor
Of welcoming me into their company.
First remembrance of sorrow,
Then, the sparkling silver light,
So do I travel,
So do I fly,
Sorontel, the Last Eagle.


With that, he awoke, and the first thing he beheld was Idril, the one who fate had bound him together with, in this world and the next, They would strive and travail against the darkness this world would throw at them, until that glorious day when they would take wing together unto the utter West, not seen again until the Last Day.

"Mae Govannen, Idril, my companion." he said. "A welcome sight to my weary eyes. Did you have a good rest, before we make our journey Eastward into sorrow, first of many journeys together, until we make that long journey together into the light of joy?"
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby Idril » Thu Jul 25, 2013 7:19 pm

Idril had sat and watched both the horse that she had ridden in, making sure that Thunder was ok, breathing well not strained, and that when he shifted around that there was no limp or that he made any noise that might be a queue for pain. She worried that she had ridden him way to hard and that there might be an under lying issue arise while he slept. The best sign of the night was that he stayed standing and did not lie down. She knew that he wouldn’t allow her to know if he was injured, not willingly anyways. He was as devoted to her as his father before him and she knew that. That is why she checked on him and watched him part of the night, resting better outside within view of him and the great eagle Meneldor.

She had noticed a faint glowing going on around Meneldor as he slept. It would ebb and wane but it had captured her attention and it reminded her of her home and of another place close to her heart. She had been having a dream of sorts of her own, remembering days gone by and some of the times that she had been in the presence of the Mithril Knights, Dirk in particular. Although the time she had been with him was shorter than others, she had fond memories. He had always proven to be steadfast and a good defender of his fellow Knights and Middle Earth. He would be greatly missed by those closest to him and many throughout Middle Earth. She wondered at the upcoming days travels. As she looked at Meneldor, she saw that he was waking and heard him speak to her.

”Mae Govannen, Meneldor my friend. Did you rest well is the more appropriate question? I am very well, thank you. Speaking of a welcomed sight, you sure were a great sight to my own eyes yesterday. I did not expect you to hear me.”

“Yes I had a great dream of soaring and of obtaining my Mithril Cloak and becoming a Knight, it was a great dream that I hope soon will become true.”
He stood to his full height, shook out his feathers, and then squatted to preen his beautiful feathers back into their proper places. He took a moment and looked at her again, “Are you ready to make our journey Eastward into sorrow, first of many journeys together, until we make that long journey together into the light of joy?"

”Are you sure that you can make such a journey again so quickly, with me on your back? I don’t want to wear you out completely!”

The great eagle shook his great head back and forth and up and down in a kind of laughing gesture that reminded her what she had just said and made her feel even smaller in stature against the great size of the eagle. Realizing how ridiculous that question must have sounded to one of the greatest in all of Middle Earth, she stumbled on her apology as she stood and started to walk towards Meneldor. ”I believe that I just may have stuck my foot in my mouth, please forgive my insolence and stupidity Meneldor.”

“Well you’re not a hobbit of course and you will add a little more weight upon my back than a hobbit and unless you sit absolutely still, I may have to adjust more often but be assured, I can carry you!”
he said with some angst. Meneldor jokingly said this while acting slightly offended just before he lowered himself more to her height as she neared him.

As Idril neared the eagle, a Beorning in the distance witnessed something he had never quite understood. Maybe it was because he was a shape shifter and the sight was strange to all of his kind, or maybe because it was just strange to him personally but no mind, what he witnessed was awe inspiring. The great eagle lowered his head as Idril came in and a hug was given, with a couple arms wrapped around a few feathers on the neck of the huge eagle and a great wing was extended to encompass the elf’s entire body. For an outsider seeing this they would only see an eagle with head lowered and wing extended toward its own beak, looking like it was preening the inside of its wing. The Beorning knew that there was some special bond between these two and wondered at the how’s and why’s behind it, then shrugged and moved back into the forest without disturbing anything or anyone. He would never forget that sight as long as he lived of the Eagle and the Elf.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby Cock-Robin » Fri Jul 26, 2013 3:48 am

As they were released from their embrace, Idril held a feather that Meneldor had plucked from his breast. "None, not wizard or elf or man, except for the feather that now lays on Dirk's breast have I granted this." he said. "Have you had breakfast? If you have, you need to say your goodbyes to your horse. I hope he has gotten over his short flight."

"He will, Meneldor." said Idril, putting the feather in a safe place where she would treasure it, and went to say her farewells to Thunder. "Take care of yourself, my friend." she said. "I leave you in the care of the Beornings, and they are good to you. Get your rest and healing until I call for you."

Thunder reared and neighed. It was a sad parting. Despite the hurts that he would never admit, he would have borne her the rest of the way.

Getting her things, she returned to Meneldor. "I am ready."

Beorn came out and said "You come back anytime. We will care for your horse until then."

As Idril mounted on the Eagle's back, she nodded to him.

"Farewell wherever you fare, until the eyrie receives you at your journey's end." said Meneldor. He spread his wings and took off. He was well-rested, though there would be no need of the frantic speed that he had to do on the way there. They could take their time.

The forest was Mirkwood no more, due to the downfall of the Dark Lord and of Dol Guldur. It was still a tangled wood, maybe needing the shepherding of the Ents, if Fangorn would send any there. It was Greenwood the Great once again.

He turned a little to the north after following the Road for a while. They would make a stop at Tharanduil's place before they would embark on the next part of their journey.

"That was a beautiful song you sung when you were asleep, Meneldor."

"Oh, you heard that? It fit the mood of my dreams, it seems."

She was sharing the empty-sky freedom that the Eagle enjoyed while he flew straight as an arrow to the place where Tharanduil was. They would soon make their own journey to Dirk's funeral.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby Cock-Robin » Tue Jul 30, 2013 8:40 pm

There was little to see down below, the forest was still dense, and alive, much like the Old Forest to the west, or Fangorn's wood. Indeed, it was hoped that Fangorn would send some of his kin there to tame the woods, as they were in need of a shepherd. Tharanduil, through Legolas, had sent to Fangorn to do just that. It was rumored that two or three may respond, but they are not hasty about it. The spiders had become less, many having been killed during the war, the final brood of Ungoliant's descendants.

There were many butterflies, black and purple monarchs, who fluttered above the trees, the very butterflies that Bilbo saw on his journey through Mirkwood.

But the trees were not what Meneldor was there to see. He was now flying due northeast. The mountain of Erebor was in the distance, and became nearer as the Eagle flew.

"We go to the halls of Thranduil for the first leg of the journey, where we will spend the night if he so wills." said Meneldor. "Then, to Esgaroth. The caverns are on the shores of the Forest River, which I see glistening through the woods ahead. We shall have many songs there. It may be they are preparing for the journey to Dirk's funeral as well."

He sang as he flew:

The tangled wood below,
Marred by evil, the evil of the tower to the South,
Dark and desolate, the home of spiders,
But light dawns in the dark place,

Darkness has fallen, and the woods shall be as they must be.
A place of life, not death,
And shall be wholesome again,

The name of Greenwood the Great, long forgotten,
Shall now be heard once again,
And the glories of the past shall awaken,
At least for a time,

For nothing is as it once was,
Much shall fade,
Until all is restored in latter days.

Sing, let the trees hear,
Let the mountains echo the song,
The Song infused in them from the Beginning,
O great Valar, hear us, and let the song arise once more!
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Wed Jul 31, 2013 6:38 am

The Mithril Knight in Training, Ka’ryn, had come to the end of her search. Lord Erinhue had been found encamped in a township tavern.

Ka’ryn remained standing beside his table in the back of the taproom, unsure of what the protocol might be when meeting a legend.

Erinhue let the young Knight in Training stand until he sensed the discomforted shift in her stance. Good, the mentor in him thought as the KiT shifted her weight once again, teaches’em humility. As soon as the thought passed, he laughed. No one would ever accuse him of being humble.

Startled by the seemingly unexplained outburst Ka’ryn coughed to clear her throat and questioned it.

“Sir?”

Erinhue swung his legs down from the table and the raised two legs of his chair thumped down to the floor. He sat up and pushed the hood back away from his face. His sea gray eyes twinkled as he flashed the confused KiT his very best starbright grin.

Ka’ryn could not help but respond in kind. She never had the opportunity to hear the bard perform, but in that dazzling smile, she began to understand a little of why this man was a legend.

“Excuse my lapse in manners, m’lady.” Erinhue indicated the chair opposite to him. “Please.”

Ka'ryn kept standing.

“Lord Erinhue, I’ve come to…”

“I know why you came. They sent ya to fetch me back.” Erinhue nodded, both acknowledging and dismissing her mission. “Have a seat.”
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Fri Aug 09, 2013 8:21 pm

Ka’ryn remained standing beside the table, uncertain of what she should do. She had her orders from the Guild House, but this was a fully sworn Mithril Knight, a noted Battle Captain who far outranked her.

Erinhue sighed then put her out of the awkward quandary and inquired about her mission. “Why did they send you out on a night like this?”

Back on familiar ground, Ka’ryn became more confident.

“Lord Erinhue, sir, I came to…”

“’Hue, call me ‘Hue or Erinhue at least, if I had wanted to be a Lord and a Sir, I would have stayed in Dol Amroth.”

This put Ka’ryn completely off guard. She struggled for a way to continue and decided to stick to protocol.

“Lord Erinhue,” she began again, “I was instructed to find you, deliver a message and to accompany you back to Laketown.” The girl opened the leather pouch hanging beneath her cloak and pulled out a tightly wound scroll. She attempted to hand it to Erinhue but he refused to take it from her.

“I’ll take that if you put that chair to good use and sit down.” Ka’ryn gave in to the flashing charm of his smile and sat down in the offered chair.

“That’s more like it.” Erinhue leaned forward and accepted the scroll. He removed the bit of red ribbon and looked over the seal. Anorast had sent the message. When he unrolled the parchment it had a but a single word written in the old elf’s fine, flowing hand.

Come.

“Alright, you’ve completed your mission.” Erinhue said as he crumpled the sheet and shoved it into his pocket. He winked at the Knight in Training. “Now that’s out of the way, have a drink with me. The sun’s down good now and the place will start filling any time.”

As if on customary cue, one of the serving girls brought over a large pitcher of beer and sat it beside the bard’s tankard. She sat another frothy mug in front of Ka’ryn before hurrying off to prepare for the dinner crowd.

The young knight watched Erinhue pour a full tankard of beer and down it in three gulps. As he reached for the pitcher again, Ka’ryn began to wonder. She had indeed completed the first two parts of her assignment. Erinhue showed no sign that he had any intention of leaving. How was she going to complete the third part to her mission?
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Sat Aug 10, 2013 10:12 pm

Erinhue downed the contents of a second tankard of beer much as he had done the first. Ka’ryn tasted her drink and found it more than satisfactory. Erinhue filled his cup a third time but left it sitting on the table.

“It’s all my fault, ya know, him being dead and all”

Ka’ryn did not know what to say but she had little time to respond as the bard continued.

“If I had been paying attention way back when none of this would have happened.”

The time it took for her to take another swallow was time enough for Ka’ryn to think.

She had heard this sort of talk before, after battles when men had time to think. She would hear her father’s troops blame themselves for the deaths of their comrads. She had experienced the feelings behind those words when she became a shield-maiden and fought and killed for her people. She offered the same comfort she and all the others had received.

“My father would say that you cannot keep a warrior from his glory anymore than you can stop the sunrise. You cannot turn any man from the path of his destiny any more than you can change the path of the sun across the sky.” Here, Ka’ryn paused as her father often did when he gave this speech. “All we, the living, can do is to live, honor the path that was walked by another once they have found their glory and to hope that we can follow our path to destiny as well as they.”

Erinhue stared at the young knight as the truth of her words pierced the fog of grief that had settled into his core. This truth was well known to him. In different words someone else had once said the same thing. His sea grey eyes took on a far away and thoughtful glaze as he slowly drank the third tankard.

Two sharp plucked notes startled Ka’ryn enough to almost spill her drink. Her gaze darted to the dragonharp sitting on the high stool against the wall beside the bard’s chair. It’s jeweled red eyes sparked brightly and seemed to focus directly on her.

“Yes, I know.” Erinhue replied to the sound. “You haven’t stopped telling me for days now.”

Wonder beamed from Ka’ryn’s eyes. She had always dismissed the stories about the bard’s harp, Agarak.

A few more notes sounded. Definitely an inquiry, thought Ka’ryn as her doubts faded away.

“Alright, yes I will.” Erinhue answered the question. “ I will think about it seriously, but right now it’s time to earn our keep for the night.”

Erinhue stood up, picked up the harp and walked off towards the front of the taproom and stood near the bar.
To her expressed dismay and secret delight, Ka’ryn realized that the bard was about to perform.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Sat Aug 10, 2013 10:18 pm

Now Morgan was a married man
Who ought to settle down
But when his wife
Distressed his life
Old Morgan went to town

Straight to the tavern Morgan went
To hang with his old crowd
His wife well knew
He’d be at the brew
So she went to track him down.

And its ale, ale and by the pail
For that be Morgan’s Joy.

In the doorway Mrs Morgan stood
And witnessed Morgan’s bliss
She took a look
And stomped her foot
Said, “I’ll put a stop to this.”

Mrs Morgan turned herself around
And went off in a huff
She soon came back
In a wagon packed
With all their worldly stuff

And its ale, ale and by the pail
For that be Morgan’s Joy

When Morgan saw his wife outside
He jumped up with a shout
“What are you doin’
With the stuff you’re movin’
Could it be you’re putting me out?”

“Oh No” his wife sweetly replied
“I knew that you would roam
With ale and wine
You’ll spend your time
So I’m making the tavern our home

And its ale, ale and by the pail
For that be Morgan’s Joy.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Thu Sep 12, 2013 4:37 pm

The crowd enthusiastically sang along as the rollicking tavern song rolled on. There were several shouts of “Send the bard a beer!” with the tavern girls rushing to comply. When Erinhue stopped singing to empty the tankards, the crowd continued to sing the chorus until he picked up the verse again.

Ka’ryn soon found herself swinging her mug and singing loudly along with the rest. Erinhue caught her at it. He raised his current tankard and winked at her before picking up the song again. The Knight in Training noticed that the music did not stop while the bard drank his beer. The merry music continued and Ka’ryn looked closer. Erinhue was not playing the harp. His hand lay flat against its strings.

Agarak’s jeweled red eyes flashed in her direction as if to confirm her unspoken thought.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Wed Sep 18, 2013 8:55 pm

The singing and music and laughter went on into the night. Ka’ryn was enjoying herself immensely; she had forgotten the last time she had. Soon chairs and tables were being shoved to the walls and the dancing began. Ka’ryn, Mithril Knight in Training , allowed herself to be pulled into a Springlering. In moments, she was dancing and laughing like the young girl she was.

Dancing was very unlike her and Ka’ryn began to wonder what had come over her. Sent out on a mission, here she was dancing and singing like a little girl, and loving every moment. The sprightly music continued and the ring of dancers pulled her directly opposite the bard.

The song was a ribald tale with a catchy, bouncy tune. Erinhue sang the witty lyrics, adding new verses of his own as the mood struck. His voice was full of joyful cheer, but as the dance carried her along, Ka’ryn noticed that the merriment did not reach into his eyes.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby Idril » Fri Sep 20, 2013 11:38 pm

Idril was so surprised to have received a feather that she stood in a silent shock for a moment. Then she replied and tucked the treasure near her heart. As she was saying her farewells to Thunder, he bent his head to hers and she spoke softly to him of their future together, easing him and assuring him of their reuniting soon. Thunder reared and neighed as if waving goodbye to her as she made her way back towards Meneldor.

She was very grateful to the Beornings and that they would care for her beloved animal. As she mounted the back of Meneldor, she nodded and waved assuring them that she would return as soon as she could. With a great burst of speed and strength, the Eagle launched into the air, easily carrying her as if she weren’t even there, and Idril took a good look around the area knowing she would never see from this viewpoint again.
The forest was changing back to its more glorious days of Greenwood the Great once again and in the morning light, there were still small areas that could be mistaken for Mirkwood of ole from her vantage point above. But she could tell that the green was all about it, underneath the great trees along the forest floor, this gave her a sense of great hope and peace. She smiled. As the sun rose a little further, she let out a slight sound, more a mental one than an audible one, as the dark blue blanket strewn with white speckles of night gave way to the lighter blue of morning tinged with the pinks and oranges prior to the suns completing its morning visage. She was in awe of her point of view and memorized the morning, emblazoned upon her mind’s eye for all the rest of her days and beyond. Meneldor turned a little to the north yet looked to see what she was looking at as she saw what he had seen so many of. He was so used to his vantage point and seeing the sun both rise and set from above that he wasn’t sure why she made the sound that she did. He wanted to make sure that nothing was wrong.

”It is so magnificent, Idril thought, ”Indescribable from this point of view."

"Mmm? Oh the rising of the sun. I was not sure what your sigh was for. Yes, yes it is.”
Meneldor was reminded of how she saw this when she ‘touched’ his head with her hand and ‘showed’ him.

”Ah I see why you are so stunned. After so many sunrises and sunsets, one seems like another, with very few exceptions.” He let her enjoy the quietness for a moment.

”We will be stopping at Tharanduil’s later, before we finish the journey.’ This brought them both back to why they were on this journey together, focusing them once more.

"That was a beautiful song you sung when you were asleep, Meneldor."

"Oh, you heard that? It fit the mood of my dreams, it seems."

“Of course I heard it, yes I would say it fit mine in a way also.”


As she was sharing the empty-sky freedom that the Eagle enjoyed while he flew straight as an arrow to the place where Tharanduil was, she got lost in her own thoughts for a while. She remembered many things, old and newer, she watched as the forest changed yet again and she hoped that it would completely recover. The peoples of this world would work together again to make sure that this would happen; she was only one of those. She wondered at how long her services would be needed before she would consider taking the ship. She shook her head and placed one hand to her breast, under which was the feather. She needed to think of a way to protect it and keep it with her always. She put her mind to this task as she looked around at the surroundings below. In time, they would make their own journey to Dirk's funeral. This was but a second to the last leg of that sorrowful journey.

Her somber mood returned and she concentrated on the view and how to preserve her gift.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby Cock-Robin » Sat Sep 21, 2013 9:33 pm

Meneldor was glad that Idril was there with him. She had showed him several things that he had taken for granted. The sunrise, for example. The caverns of northern Greenwood, which contained the palace of Thranduil, were looming in sight. He saw activity of the elves there even from a distance.

"It looks like the elves are preparing to depart for the Memorial as well." he said.

"Do you think we'll have time to stop and visit?"

"I am sure of it." said Meneldor.

The last time he had flown over Tharanduil's place was when he had made his journey to the East, on the way to the Sea of Rhun and his meeting with Pallando.

As they approached, some of the elves pointed upwards and cried out, announcing the coming of one of the Great Eagles.

Meneldor began to circle in a slow descent from the heights, noting that the elves down there were making a path for him. There was more scurrying, and he saw Tharanduil himself was emerging. Legolas wasn't there, he was probably in Gondor somewhere, and would probably be journeying north to the Memorial.

They waited as the Eagle circled down, descending. He didn't want to go too fast, as he had Idril on his back, and didn't want to frighten her.

But finally, he landed. Tharanduil approached with his guard.

"We are honored by your visit, Eagle Lord."

Meneldor bowed his head and scratched the ground. "Nay, I am Sorontel, Last-Eagle in the West that was forgotten. Meneldor the Swift am I, and I come bearing the Lady Idril."

She dismounted and bowed to Tharanduil. "We come to visit for a short time before we make our departure for Esgaroth for the Memorial of Dirk the Daring."

"As are we." said the Elven King. "Welcome, Lady Idril. And Meneldor, you are too modest. The renown of your deeds has come here, and you are deserving of the title Eagle Lord. We are preparing a farewell feast before we leave, and our guests are welcome."

Both Meneldor and Idril bowed, as they saw the preparations being laid.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Mon Sep 23, 2013 7:42 pm

“Sorry ta disturb ya, darlin’ but a long road awaits.”

Ka’ryn stretched every muscle and enjoyed the luxury of a warm dry bed for a moment more. Her eyes snapped open as the voice brought her into the new day.

“Take your time, but hurry up.” Erinhue called through the chamber door. “You’ll find me in the stables.”

Ka’ryn threw the comforter from her as she rolled out of bed and onto her feet. The sun was well up and the Mithril Knight in Training was mortified for having over slept. She dressed as hurriedly as she could and ran down the stairs. She did not deserve any breakfast and did not stop for any. When she dashed into the stables, Erinhue was standing beside Treble stroking the painted pony’s braided and belled mane.

Her own steed seemed ashamed of her and Ka’ryn muttered soft apologies as she quickly prepared to travel. As they rode on, Ka’ryn noticed that the bells braided into Erinhue’s horse’s mane and tail were moving with the motion of the pony’s step but there was no sound coming from them.

A sense of comradery had been established in the past evening’s experience and Ka’ryn felt bold enough to make inquiring comment on this.

Erinhue almost heard himself laugh at the question, but it did not show in his rather flat,mentoring, response.

“I am a bard by trade and a warrior by chance. A good bard wants to be heard. A good warrior is heard when he wants to be.”
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Mon Sep 23, 2013 7:56 pm

A revolting smell emanating from the front room drew the innkeeper from his back room office. His greatly offended nose lead him to the taproom bar.

There on the polished wood surface was a steaming, stinking platter. Coming closer to inspect the odiferous article the barman discovered the roasted hind leg of a warg, claws and hair intact.

Beside the platter was a knife and fork resting on a folded linen napkin.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby Tempest » Wed Sep 25, 2013 6:37 am

The sky was beginning to exhibit flecks of light on its edges, signaling that the wake was coming to a close. The Mithril Knights were weary, but they all felt their time with Dirk was ending, and they were looking remarkably bright eyed for being awake all night. The road had been long, and their vigil had not been in vain. The funeral procession would bring a final end to their journey, but for now, they waited. Their numbers had grown during the night as other Knights had joined them, and the Golden Dragon had become almost insufferably warm and crowded to bursting.

Tempest had gone outside to breathe again the cool night’s air, and this time Anorast had followed her. Under the torch light, the elf watched her pace back and forth along the entrance path, kicking dirt with her boots and casting long shadows with her cloaked form.

”He’ll be here,” Anorast said softly. ”You know he will come.”

Her dark eyes met his, but the shadows hid the expression in them. ”I wasn’t thinking about Erinhue. My mind was elsewhere,” she replied, though he did not fully believe her.

”Our vigil is almost over. What will you do afterwards?”

”Dirk will barely be sleeping in his grave tomorrow before I go,” she said, looking towards the East.

”You need rest.” he said gently. “You will do Elbren no good by following him in this state. Go to Lorien and see your son. Rest there among the trees and gain your strength again. Then, you can…”

She cut him off with a slight laugh and moved another clump of dirt with her boot. ”I will find no rest there. And you know me well enough to know that I can find rest nowhere. I must continue on.” She paused and lifted her eyes to his. “This time, I must continue alone. You and I, our paths have converged as Mithril Knights, but now they diverge yet again. I feel it must be so. Perhaps I will return from the East, and our path will run together again.”

”You have responsibilities. And a new knight to initiate,” he objected.

”Djazi does not need me anymore. He will find his place among you and add to our strength. Do not try to convince me further. And do not speak of this to anyone else, for I mean to slip away unnoticed. I rely on your honor as a Knight…and as my friend,” she added hesitatingly.

Anorast frowned. ”If you mean to punish Erinhue…”

”Do not think me so petty,” she snapped. “ Besides, I think there is relatively little I could do to hurt him. I’m sure he will move on as he always does, clinging to his music and his harp. What does he have need of in one as dark and angry as I? No, you will all be better for my absence, and I will do the greatest good by following Elbren into the East. But have no worries on my account, I will send word of what I discover and if I find any trace of the Red Hammer or the Knights of the Silmaril.”

"You need not go alone."

"Yes, I do. And I will not be alone for long, when I find Elbren and the others he sent before him."

The elf was silent, for he could see that she would not be persuaded. But he grieved for her, because of the pain that was in her voice when she spoke, and for the darkness that had settled on her soul at Dirk’s death, and Erinhue’s absence. How was it that some can come so far, and then…But now was not the time for such questions.

”Can I depend on your honor?” Tempest interrupted his thoughts. ”Shall we go back inside?”

”In a moment. And as for my honor, you knew the answer before you asked.”
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Thu Oct 03, 2013 5:20 pm

Mithril Knight in Training Ka'ryn followed her charge along the road to Laketown. They rode in relative silence throughout the day and into the long night. When the earliest hints of the coming dawn lightened the darkness of the night sky, Erinhue stopped.

"I can't put this off any longer" he sighed more to himself than to his companion. Turning in the saddle he winked at Ka'ryn and said "Hang on to your harness, darlin' you are about to experience a rare pleasure."

A sudden mist engulfed them to the point where Ka'ryn could no longer see the trees around her. When the mysterious mist cleared away they were in the courtyard of The Golden Dragon
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby Tempest » Fri Oct 18, 2013 12:04 pm

They were in the courtyard of the Golden Dragon, but they were not alone.

Tempest and Anorast still stood outside in the dim light of earliest morning, though the former already had her hand on the door and her back to the scene when she heard Anorast’s sharp intake of breath. Always on the defensive, she already had drawn her sword as though expecting a foe, even as she turned to see the materialized bard and his companion before them.

It could not have been a more aggressive first response, and Anorast, realizing what had happened, quickly stepped between in an effort to restore peace. What worried him most was that the dark lady did not sheath her sword immediately upon realizing her mistake, but instead stood silent and unmoving, her face an unreadable mask and her hand still tightly gripping her sword hilt. Her eyes were locked squarely on Erinhue.

No one moved or spoke, and as they stood there, with the wind at their back, the sun began to rise on the horizon.

Slowly, with almost painstaking effort, Tempest sheathed her sword, and Anorast could tell that her breathing had risen considerably, though her face never changed. Her eyes traveled to the horizon as the single ray of sun pierced the shadows around her, and then she turned resolutely back to the inn’s door.

”It’s time.” she said, and without another word, she withdrew within the Golden Dragon.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Fri Oct 18, 2013 7:19 pm

"Well now, that went better than I expected." There was little humor in his voice as Erinhue dismounted. He tossed Treble's reins to the still stunned Knight in Training and nodded her towards the stables.

"You know you cannot leave it at that." Anorast said as Erinhue joined him on the front porch of the inn.

"Yes," Erinhue sighed. "I know. You'd think that she would be the one person who might understand, but I know that she doesn't. I have to try and make her see, but that will have to wait. The lady is right about that, it's time."
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby Cock-Robin » Mon Oct 21, 2013 1:19 pm

It had been an eventful night. The banquet that Tharanduil and the elves had set for Meneldor and Idril was fabulous. And the songs went to their hearts. Meneldor lifted up his beak in song as well, singing of the Eagles of Manwë and their tasks over the ages.

The elves, Tharanduil in the lead, had left early in the morning for Esgaroth and the funeral of Dirk.

The Eagle, who was faster than them, took his time, and finally Idril mounted. "Let us be off. We don't want to be late." said Meneldor.

He lifted off, flying due southeast, the Lonely Mountain, Erebor, growing in their sight. The flight was beautiful, but uneventful. Meneldor circled once around the Mountain, then turned south. Esgaroth loomed in sight below, and Meneldor circled lazily down. They would land before the Golden Dragon where all would be ready.

Finally touching down, Idril dismounted. Brondgast was down there to meet them, as well as Erinhue. "Greetings, Lady Idril, long time no see." said Brondgast.

Idril nodded. "Your grandfather Beorn sends his regrets, but he won't be here. You are to represent the Beornings. Some others may come."

"As is expected." said Brondgast. He and Meneldor looked at each other. The prospective initiates would have their time after the funeral, and Dirk laid to rest.

They were ready. The coffin emerged and Meneldor approached, the last to see him before he died. A tear dripped down his golden beak, and he laid a wing upon the coffin.

And a song burst from his beak, a song first in the Ancient Tongue, then in Common Speech, and the pathos was the same in both.


O Dirk, Mellon, my Friend in all but feather,
Mithril Knight, Mentor, Companion, Brother,
None but I knew your anguish.
None, but one who never before knew darkness,
Who knew not sorrow until our meeting,
Yet, the burden I bore for love,
The love of a great heart, trammeled by darkness.

Alone among the Eagles do I know the pain.
Thorondor, Gwaihir, Landroval, Gwaeryn,
My ancient brethren bow their heads in wonder.

And to what end does this follow?

A wound, infecting a noble heart,
A grim destiny befalls one born to greatness,
Yet a deadly legacy of evil.
The Nazgul-Lord, forever accursed,
Minion of Sauron, minion of Melkor,
Infected one whose greatness they cannot comprehend.

And yet, he bore the dark destiny well,
And died performing a deed of awe,
A star entered the darkness
And consumed it from within,

So the darkness defeated itself,
For it could not forever conquer,
But was consumed by light.
For the light cannot be shadowed by darkness.

Such was the decree of Mandos
That through darkness he come to light.

Open, o hallowed halls to receive this one,
And many are there who would welcome him.
Beren and Luthien among the throng,
And so he meets his honor
In rest and peace
Until the final day,
The Dagor Dagorath
Where we shall go forth together in the final battle.

The vanguard of the Valar!


He folded his wings and stepped back from the coffin, his head bowed. He would fly solemnly above the procession when it began. The hoofbeats of the Elven contingent were heard in the distance, coming from Greenwood the Great. Brondgast transformed into bear form to honor the fallen, and took his place.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Fri Nov 22, 2013 8:17 pm

The inside of The Golden Dragon had been transformed from tavern to temple of glory and honor. Banners and flags from all over Middle Earth were hung from the wooden rafters. Dignitaries representing all the Free Peoples where in attendance, arrayed to honor one who gave his life on behalf of them all.

The inn’s oak wood bar had been uprooted and removed to make room for all those in attendance. Transformed into a platform to support a warrior’s casket the bar was unrecognizable draped in fabric of black and silver with shields of every description propped up all the way around it.

The sounds of not too distant horns were a signal that the last contingent of mourners would soon arrive. Four Knights-in-Training walked towards the draped platform and began to light the dozens of thick white candles that surrounded the warrior at rest.

When Erinhue and Anorast came through the door, the bard stopped and let his eyes follow the elf as he moved through the room. Continuing in that direction he found himself looking right at Tempest. Battle honed senses told her someone was observing her. She did not turn to look. She knew who it was. Still without looking in his direction, she moved further away from the door.

Anorast soon caught up to her and stood by her side. He shot a warning glance at the bard and Erinhue responded with a slight nod. Instead of joining his fellow Mithril Knights, Erinhue walked to the opposite side of the room to take a place beside his brother with the Lords of the Noble Houses of Dol Amroth.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Mon Dec 16, 2013 4:24 am

The golden flickering glow of a few dozen thick white candles was the only light in the transformed Golden Dragon. When the candles were all lit, the speeches began, extolling the exploits and valor of the fallen Knight. They spoke of his honor and prowess in battle. They spoke of the glory of his final sacrifice, a selfless act that not only spared his companions but saved the world from the remnant of an ancient evil.

When the dignitaries had finished with their tributes, every Mithril Knight in attendance began to move towards the center aisle to form a line. Erinhue quietly joined their doubled ranks as they slowly walked to the raised platform at the front of the room. The bard, Anorast, Tempest and all the companions who had shared in the last adventure stepped forward to stand beside the bower. They would serve as bearers and carry their comrade out of the Golden Dragon.

As the pallet was lifted and carried outside, the ranks of the Mithril Knights walked directly behind it. As the blue caped Knights filed out of the tavern, the rest of those gathered fell in after they passed and followed in procession. A draped and decorated wagon waited to receive the sadly honored burden.

Outside, Meneldor, last of the Great Eagles left in Middle Earth, waited. As the pallet bearing the body of his fallen friend was placed upon the cart, Meneldor sang a song of tribute and farewell. As the clear voice of the eagle came to the end and fell silent, each Mithril Knight considered what they might say about their comrade in arms now going to his final glory, going to his final rest.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby Cock-Robin » Thu Dec 19, 2013 8:29 pm

Brondgast was next. He was in bear form, so couldn't speak human speech. But he did not need to. As the representative of the Beornings, he decided to honor Dirk in the ancient way of the bears. He leapt upon the cart and stood upright, looking down upon the burden, the casket of the lost Knight. He was incredibly strong, and he lifted the casket, positioning himself beneath it, holding it up in his forepaws.

He held it up for the stars to witness the greatest hero, the one who had descended into the darkness to defeat it, and in death had done an even greater deed than he ha done in life. He gave a great roar, calling the stars, especially one that was passing overhead at the moment. The great star of Earendil.

Then, gently, he laid the casket back down upon the cart, laying a paw upon it. Then leaping off, he took his place with the rest. He gave a bearish grin to Erinhue with a little half-growl. He had not known him as well as the rest, but honored the fallen in his own way.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby Tempest » Mon Dec 23, 2013 6:30 pm

By the time the processional began, any tears that Tempest had to weep for Dirk had already been shed. Still, she found herself uncharacteristically speechless in the final moments before the pyre was lit, while the other knights and several others spoke at length. She had shared a kinship with Dirk while he lived, and now she felt more alone than ever among the Mithril Knights who remained.

She passed the handkerchief that Dirk had held in his last moments through her fingers again. So many questions unanswered. So many things left unsaid. Left unknown. She wondered why, at the last, he had reached for this object, so delicate and small. And fragile.

How strange death was. How in the end one reaches for simple, sweet memories as opposed to a sword or spear.

But what memory did Dirk seek out connected with this handkerchief? She would never know, for Dirk had taken that, as well as many other secrets, with him. Still, she would honor his last act, and before the pyre was lit, she came forward to where he lay and placed the handkerchief gently in his closed hand. It seemed to belong there, with him. She leaned down and whispered one last time to her fallen friend, and she was relieved to see that in death, Dirk's face had lost the lines of worry and pain that had always marred his countenance. He now looked as though he were simply sleeping. At peace. How much she hoped that was the case for him.

She returned to the others, but as the pyre was lit, she slowly worked her way to the back, her eyes steady as the flames leapt higher and highter into the air. She would not wait to see the end. Without another word, without even a glance behind at those left, Tempest slipped away.

It was time to hunt alone again. Away from others who she both loved and hurt. Let others see it through to the bitter end. She was done.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Tue Dec 24, 2013 6:49 pm

Two Mithril Knights in Training held the bridles of the two horses hitched to the mourning draped wagon and slowly led them towards the waiting funeral pyre. Starting with the company of Mithril Knights, the assembled dignitaries, friends, brother warriors and the respectfully curious, fell in line and followed behind.

The light of distant torches grew brighter and more distinct as they drew closer to the place. When the wagon stopped, the last companions lifted the pallet bearing their fallen brother from the wagon and placed it atop the raised pyre.

Erinhue did not assist in bearing that final burdon. That was an honor reserved for those who had faithfully took watch and accompanied Dirk on that final journey. It was an honor the bard deemed he did not deserve.

As Dirk was laid to his last rest, the bard joined the others as the last companions stood a final and ultimate farewell vigil. None spoke keeping their thought to themselves. One by one they nodded or gave a last salute and moved back to rejoin the multitude. Erinhue was the last to leave.

He stood there looking at that too young face now relaxed, now peaceful and without pain. Water leaked from his sea grey eyes to run, ignored, down his cheeks. The small bundle he carried was placed at the warrior’s side. It was the carefully folded grey/green cloak of a Master Bard. Glittering atop the cloak was an exquisite pin made of spun mithril silver woven into the shape of a rose.

In placing the bundle, Erinhue noticed another token placed in Dirk’s hand, a silken handkerchief edged in ruffled lace. Although it was not visible, the bard knew there was a small letter L embroidered in sky blue thread at one of the hidden corners. It belonged to Leoba. Erinhue sighed over the great love that could not be and the happier times in which it was formed.

Sparing a questioning thought for Leoba’s fate and a moment to wonder if she knew, Erinhue leaned close to Dirk’s unhearing ear and whispered “ I should had stopped you that night. I’m sorry, Dirk, for as long as I live, I’m sorry.”
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Sun Dec 29, 2013 3:33 pm

The dim light of early morning, when the funeral began, had given way to a somber twilight. The flat shrouded sky and rhythmic chirping of crickets and such seemed a proper setting for the grim event. Taking the insect sounds for a beat, Agarak began to sing. A wordless melody, full of sorrow and regret moaned from its’ untouched strings as the dragonharp sang to the memory of the young knight who’s passing had so grieved its’ bard.

The pyre was built of strong yew logs now soaked in oil and waiting at the ready. Among the logs were scattered helms and hammers, axes and blades, weapons of defeated enemies set to burn with the one who conquered them. Now tattered standards, once carried out in battle and taken in defeat, were dumped into a careless pile at the fallen warrior’s feet.

He lay wrapped in the cloak of a Mithril Knight. His damaged but reclaimed sword lay the length of his body with his hands clasped over its hilt. The banners of Esgaroth and of his noble family, covered him in this final sleep.

Torches were carried forward with respect and the pyre was set alight. At first there was no sign of the fire. It seemed reluctant to claim it’s prize, but in moments there were flames reaching up to the darkening skies. Soon the stacked wood and its burden were but a flickering silhouette deep within a roaring blaze.
The circled company stood in silence, watching, as the fire reached up into the sky and the funeral pyre was slowly consumed by the flame. Thick smoke billowed upward ever upward towards a final rest, a final peace.

The column of smoke was seen for miles, dark against the twilight sky. It carried forth the news of the last passing of a hero of Middle Earth, the sad passing of Dirk the Daring, Sir Dirk of Esgaroth.
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Re: A WARRIOR'S MEMORIAL

Postby erinhue » Sun Dec 29, 2013 3:46 pm

Thus ends the saga of Dirk the Daring, Sir Dirk of Esgaroth, and closes the latest adventure of TORC's Warrior's Guild, The Mithril Knights, Guardians of Middle Earth.
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