The Sword is Returned

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Dominique Darkwatch and AelKennyr Rhiano

Dominique

Dominique Darkwatch makes her way wearily back to the cleric hall, her staff heavy in her hands. Her hair is matted, and her clothes and skin splattered in blood after yet another skirmish with rogue dragons and their Torgan allies.

There were so many that needed healing; all the while she had to keep running for her own life. But in the end, the brave warriors and rangers prevailed and either killed or drove the enemy away. All is well again...for the time being.  She is looking forward to perhaps a hot bath and some rest. It has been a long day. She is thankful things look quiet in the vicinity of the cleric hall, as this had been a site of several attacks as well as the queen's castle and the warrior's hall nearby. She stops by the perch of the guild's hawk who greets her by a happy flap of wings. "Hello Voronwe!" She pats his head before turning to the door.  She grabs an entire loaf of bread, and notices her hands. "Eew!" She sets down her staff and quickly washes as best she can while changing from her bloody clothes.  Dominque feels the water refresh her a bit. She ties her hair back and goes to get more food in the main part of the hall, before starting her evening prayers.

Eönwë

Eonwe had discarded the physical form he wore, waiting patiently as spirit in the upper level of the cleric's hall.  Time moved for everyone and everything around him, but for the Herald of Manwe, one moment was very much like the rest. He waits, watchful, observant, neither moved to impatience by time's passing nor discontent that he should be in this one spot without purpose other than to wait.  After long moments, movement down below tells him that his wait is at an end.

Dominique Darkwatch climbs the narrow winding stairs leading to the area where the altars are and opens the door to the upper level sanctuary. Footsteps climbing the stairs, coming nearer tells Eonwe that the Herald was to have company.  He remains quiet and incorporeal, waiting patiently to make sure that, indeed, this cleric serve Eru and no other.  His eyes focus upon the slender form that emerges and crosses to the center of the room.

Dominique  makes her way to the central elven star. She looks around at all the other altars and sighs as she prepares to kneel down and offer her evening prayer. Drawn by her motions, Eonwe watches the slender elven female knee and waits. She orients herself to the west, bows her head and offers her prayer "Oh, Lord and great Eru, whose songs and designs created the Arda and all that dwell within, I thank you for another day where you have bless your children with light and life. I offer my humble thanks for the gifts you have given me so that I may help others and show your light and your mercy in healing broken bodies and broken spirits...."

Eonwe nods to himself.  This is the cleric Nienna had spoken of.  Slowly, so as to not frighten her, Eonwe gathers about himself the physical matter needed to form a body. Dominique Darkwatch continues her prayer, her eyes closed in deep concentration, feeling the presence and pleasure of Iluvatar as she continues. "Oh, Lord, I humbly offer thanks, and beseech you to continue to grant me peace and strength so that I may continue to serve you and carry forth your message of light to your children, even in the darkest of times.  I pray offer myself to your gracious service and pray for the grace of the Valar in all that I may do."  Dominique Darkwatch continues to kneel silently for a brief amount of time, revelling in the peace that she feels. She often feels a weariness when she begins to pray, but always feels better for having done it in the end.

Eonwe slowly steps forward, visible now, and greets the cleric, his voice low and calm.  "Hail, Cleric of Eru, The Father's blessings upon you."

As she begins to open her eyes, she is a bit startles at the voice she hears and stand and blinks, her eyes wide, not entirely sure of who or what she is seeing. "Umm...ahh...Vedui, M'lord!"

Eonwe gives a bow as his eyes study the cleric before him, her slender form, her open expression, the light of Eru's grace and blessings light and peaceful upon her features. "Be thou the cleric of Eru called Domininque?" he asks.

Dominique Darkwatch peers at the impressive figure before her, very tall, dark and mysterious and blinks again and nods. "Aye...I am the cleric of Iluvatar."

Eonwe's blue eyes calmly regard her as he steps forward, arms out to the side to show he bears no weapon. "Greetings, I am Eonwe, Herald of Manwe, sent by his permission at the request of Lady Nienna, Vala of Compassion."

Dominique Darkwatch 's eyes widen, her earlier weariness completely forgotten. She feels a part of herself wish to fluster but yet another part of her is somehow comforted and calmed in the presence of this being and steps forward and bows reverently. "Lord Eonwe...you do me a great, great honor, as does the Lord Manwe and Lady Nienna!"

Eonwe steps forward, his face neither soft with compassion, such as Nienna would show, nor stern and frowing at the Lord of the Sea.  Calm and sure of his commission and dispassionate as is required of the Herald of Manwe, he bows his head and answer her, his deep voice smooth and tranquil. "Lady Nienna brought to me a blade." He reaches into the folds of his cloak and draws out her sword.  "Be this yours, Cleric of Eru?"

Dominique Darkwatch eyes open wide again and gaze upon the blade that she had entrusted to the Vala of Compassion. "It is indeed, Lord Eonwe! This be the blade, forged and given to me by a surface drow of these lands."

Eonwe looks from the blade to the Cleric's face.  "Drow?" he repeats, sounding out the foreign word, his brow knitted a little in puzzlement.  "What means drow?"

Dominique Darkwatch tilts her head, remembering some of the confusion Nienna had exhibited when she tried to explain. "M'lord, the drow are a special race of dark elves. Some, like my friend are very friendly, even kind. And others....well they can be very cruel."

Eonwe nods.  He knew of dark elves but knew not that they have survived the long passage of time. perhaps even thrived. "And a drow bestowed this well crafted blade to you?"

Dominique Darkwatch nods and smiles. "Aye, Lord Mityka is a most gifted weaponsmaster of these lands and has even given me some training in its use!"

"So this ....Mityka...he is not an enemy?" He looks up at her  as he asks.

Dominique Darkwatch shakes her head as her hand goes to her cheek.  She remembers an encounter with an entirely different sort of drow. "No, M'lord, he serves Queen Comet here in Sylvhara: he is definitely a friend."

Eonwe digests this, nodding absently.  "The world has greatly changed, Lady Dominque.  The turning of the ages have perhaps seen those once enemies friends."  He extends the blade to her, hilt first.

Dominique Darkwatch smiles now, taking the sword by the handle and holding it, feeling it as her hands grip the hilt. She feels its weight and heft and balance. Eonwe nods as she takes in with a measure of skill.  "You have had training." He states it as fact.

"Aye...Lord Mit is an excellent trainer, as are several others in this realm."

Dominique gazes at the blade and then slowly lets it cut through the air, mindful not to slice the Herald of Manwe. Eonwe notes the pride in her voice and considering her handling of the sword, as well as its craftsmanship and balance, he sees the truth in her words. "But why would a cleric need a blade?"

Dominique Darkwatch 's face darkens slightly. "M'lord, as I said, not all elves are either.light or dark nor are they all kind and of the light. We have enemies all around u,s and some would enjoy making one of us a prisoner."

Eonwe tilts his head and gives a measuring look. "Surely your warriors would defend a cleric of the Most High Eru?"

Dominique places the sword in its sheath, which she places on her back, adjusting the straps so that it fits properly and can be easily accessed. "Aye, you are correct, M'lord, and in a proper battle this is true. But sometimes the enemy may send a spy or someone who may attempt an abduction, to steal one of us." She touches her cheek again, and she can actually feel a residual burn in remembrance of her own ordeal.

"Lord Manwe granted me permission to come unto you this day, to give you this sword.  Such power as I can give it, I have.  The blade shall never break so long as the wielder's heart remains true to its purpose and alive with the Flame Imperishable. The hand  upon the hilt shall not know weariness, nor can an enemy wrest the steel from you save but from your death."

Dominique smiles and actually feels the life in it as she touches the hilt. "You have my deepest thanks, Lord Eonwe. I have much faith in the weapons master for the Valar!"

Eonwe bows his head in acknowledgment. "I like not the thought of one who serves Eru being forcing to defend herself by steel."

Dominique nods. "It is an unfortunate reality of the times in which we live, M'lord. There is a darkness that lives which does not sleep. Everyone must be diligent, even a cleric of Iluvatar."

"Truly there is," answers Eonwe.  "There is a Great Shadow about to descend upon Eru's Creation.  It is the time for all the Children to gather and hold strong." He pauses. "Mawne wishes to know about the state of the Realm of Sylvahara's Queen?" He takes a breath finishes with, "The Lady Nienna mentioned...war."

Dominique looks quizzically and then nods as she remembers Nienna's interest in the conflicts here. "Yes M'lord, Sylvhara has two main enemies: one in the south and one in the north from which attacks may be launched."

"Who threatens these lands?"

"We have the kingdom in the north, called the Torgan Empire ruled by a dark empress and an orc-dragon. These are Sylvhara's principle enemies. But the land in the south is ruled by a tyrant necromancer named Gage who seems to be quite mad and is always a threat."

Eonwe nods, but  there is a tightness about his eyes.  With a warrior's calculation, he asks, "How stands the defense of the realm, Eru's own?"

Dominique Darkwatch sighs. "We are actually quite strong, but you can appreciate the difficulty of facing two threats on opposite sides."

"I can," the Maia says, simply. "It is tactically an undesirable position in which to be."

Dominique  tries to remember the stories she had read of Eonwe and seeing him here she has a bit of an idea. "Perhaps I could show you. You can see for yourself the manner of the threat we face, if you would be interested"

"Please, Lady Dominique. " he bows his head in thanks. "I would be most grateful to see these things first hand."

Dominique smiles. "Well then, follow me downstairs and outside. I have to call my ride." She giggles and winks as she walks to the door, down the stairs and to the outside of the cleric hall.

As he is bidden, he follows the cleric down the stairs and out into the grounds of the hall. The Cleric smiles and gives a low and soft whistle, and then waits until with a whoosh of air, Luthien her giant swan gently descends before settling down in front of her. Eonwe hears the flapping of wings, and looks up to see a large swan descend and land close by the cleric. Dominique smiles and pats the swan's neck affectionately. "Greetings Lu! This is Lord Eonwe. No nipping at him now!" She giggles teasingly.

Eonwe eyes's widened just a little at her admonishment, and notes the lighthearted and familiar warm tone she takes.  Then, as she mounts. He spring up behind her, his hands resting lightly upon her waist. Dominique feels the Maia settle in behind her and smiles. "Hang on! " She then beckons Lu with a squeeze of her knees, and she begins to gently fly aloft and turn South. Eonwe looks out over her shoulder, the whole of the sylvan lands spread out like a expanse of expensive cloth beneath them.

Dominique flies and point down below. "This is the sight of the moon temple, a very sacred place to many of the inhabitants of Sylvhara and even peoples of the surrounding lands."

"Dedicated to the Steersman of the moon?" He asks, thinking of his comrade in arms, Tilion.

Dominique Darkwatch giggles, remembering Nienna's reaction. "Aye, not so much him but the light of Tilion's burden does seem to inspire many here."


Eonwe nods, taking note. "The Lady Nienna said that Tilion is reverenced but as a maiden among the peoples here?" His voice held the hint of disbelief and mirth mingled.

Dominique laughs. "Tilion is revered in many forms here...and yes, sometimes as a sword maiden!"

"I am sure the Guardian of the Moon will be most gratified to know he is remembered in some fashion." He looks about the clear sky and then leans over enough to scan the ground over which they soar.

Eonwe watches as they land. The air is heavier here, the smells in the wind neither pleasant nor appealing.  Dominique dismounts.  "Wait here, Lu."

She motions for the Maia to follow her. He leaps gracefully from the swan, swivelling his head to take in the surroundings before following the cleric as she leads him onward.  Dominique crosses the bridge and stops before a giant statue that she points to. She stops before the giant statue but sees the Maia walking up the hill toward the fortress and she runs up behind him, her breathing heavily with slight panic. As they ascend the hills side path, Eonwe takes in the lay of the land, the feel of the earth, the smells and the sounds. "There is the taint of Melkor here," he says, his voice approaching a growl, and a hand tucking into a fold of his cloak.

Dominique Darkwatch nods, her eyes looking to and fro, knowing all to well what dangers may lurk here. "M'lord, this is a land of many beings, including demons and and other creatures bent on darkness."

Eonwe meets her eyes with a grim expression. "Lady Cleric, Olwe is the hope of the Valar. sent from the Undying Lands to reunited elven kind and draw together the forces of Light."  His nostrils flare as the evil of the place rises as a stench to him.  "What Comet, Fair Kin to Olwe, faces from this tainted, twisted land is but a taste of what is to come." His blue eyes meet her calmly, thought with a touch of sorrow.

Dominique steps close to the maia, almost protectively, her hand ready on the hilt of her sword as she looks around nervously. "M'Lord, I can feel it also, but I would not linger here overly long."

"No," he says, nodding. "Eru's cleric must not linger here. "He nods at her hand. "Stay your hand, skilled as it may be, and let us get you to safer environs.  I am Maia and cannot be touched by any here." He stares up at the embattlements.  "Come, please let us go."

Dominique Darkwatch smiles wanly, understanding now how ridiculous she must look, thinking she might protect the Valar's champion swordmaster. "Aye, and I worry about Lu. Follow me back across the bridge, and I will show you the other threat we face."

Dominique Darkwatch jumps on Lu's back and hugs her, comforted by her softness as she feels Eonwe settle again behind her and with a gentle word urges the swan skyward and northward.  Eonwe follows her back, and leaps up gracefully upon the swan's back when they arrive to where the great bird awaits. She turns Lu west and over the mountains and past the great tower of Sylvhara, lingering briefly before continuing toward the other border and the dangers that lurk there. Dominique lands Lu near a grove of trees, this time patting her on the neck and beckoning her to find a safe place to hide until the swan should hear Dominque's call. Eowne hops off the great swan and lands gracefully upon his feet. Here the air is sweeter, cleaner, and the palpable evil does not cling to this flesh of his.  Dominique watches how Manwe's herald moves so gracefully and easily and gestures around her "This is still Sylvharan territory...but we do stand near the border and other..ummmm....evils. Follow me."

Dominique looks up the hill. Eonwe bows his head and silently follows her.  His eyes warily look in the direction of her gaze. Dominique stops before the structure and she points to it soberly "Within there lies the evil of the Nightmare's Tears, that which nearly stole King Olwe's life"

Atop the hill, Eonwe feels the pulsation, a dark and twisted beating that throbs like an open pustule.  He listens to the words of the cleric and see the warning signs posted. "Nightmare tears," he repeats, and closes his eyes, his very essence stilling to feel the malevence which pulses from behind that roughly hewn wall. "What means that?" he asks.

Dominique Darkwatch feels the darkness emanating from this place that she usually takes great pains to avoid. "It means that any who enter there may face death, or worse, for it is said that the dark flowers are a portal for a dark abyssal lord, one who may be a servant of the one once known as Morgoth."

His hand itches for the sword at his back, the dagger at his waist, but this is not an evil defeated by steel or warrior's craft. This is a more insidious evil, and in its presence, the Herald begins to comprehend, even more, that which held Olwe in its grasp.  Death, yes, the cleric speaks truly. "Or worse," he repeats. "Such did Olwe of Alqualonde face. Such may others." He whirls around, and his eye fixes upon her."An Abyssal lord, " he asks." An old servant of the Evil one, yes, that is likely, though I can assure you Melkor is still within the void. Thus assures the Lord of the Winds of Arda."

Dominique Darkwatch nods. "Surely, M'lord, I would expect you to be much more aware of such things than I. But it seems as though he has been servants who remain and wield considerable power to do great damage. In fact, the Empress who dwells across the river serves such an abyssal lord."

Dominique Darkwatch looks to the village on the other side.
Eonwe turns and looks in the direction of the river.  "Yes, Lady Dominque, you are correct. Those who serve the Dark One may have gone to ground after he was defeated, but they remain.  If such power they display, then the Children must look for the source  of that power.  Great damage can the followers of the Dark Lord visit upon the Children, much pain and death and suffering.  All that I have see, know I will relay to Lord Manwe, that he in his wisdom, may reflect upon these things and discern the Will of Eru and direct our hands.  In his knowledge shall the Will of the Valar reflect the wishes and mind of our Father." He bows his head in reference to Illuvatar. Then he looks upon the cleric of Eru, her bright eyes, her shining countenance, her determination, wisdom and bravery. "One thing further is bestowed upon you so long as you carry that blade, Lady Dominque.  For if you have great need, I myself have imparted a bit of my will into it, so connected it is to me and shall remain.  Through it, you may call out to me, and by Manwe's blessing, I shall come and render such aid as it may be permitted me to do."

Dominique Darkwatch flushes slghtly. "M'lord! This IS a great boon you have offered me! I am pleased if what you have seen helps the Valar better understand what we face here everyday and how important is the work I do and is the mission of King Olwe."

"Thus must you be protected, Lady Dominque." he answers gently.

Dominique Darkwatch smiles. "I feel much protected. For this I give you and Lord Eru thanks. I may now, in my turn, protect others, for that is what I feel Eru has called me to do."

The Herald regards her quietly with his intense blue eyes. "You are, indeed, called, Cleric of Iluvatar, and you shall not be found wanting." He looks back over across the river.  "And now, Lady Dominque, I can tarry no longer, but must be about my Lord Manwe's affairs. Be  well, Lady Dominque: trust in the Love of  Eru.  May the Will of the Valar be done." He clenches a fist and brings it up to his chest over his heart, taking leave of Dominque and Sylvahara.

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