Rohan's Fallen Knights

Chapter Five: The Tourney on the Morrow

Day XXIV

The Sun shines on the gleaming fields of Rohan's crop, like golden grass. The green flags with a golden horse sown into the fabric the pride of Rohan. This day the Horses seemed quiet, but the people were as lively as ever. Children played in the streets, men and women talk about the upcoming tourney. Even men from over Gondor the southern kingdom of men have come for the oncoming festivities.

This Tourney was quite the occasion.

Roland walked through the log house Orin and him made. It's craftsmanship not perfect, but good enough to make a comfortable home. The wooden floors sturdy and reliable, the each plank fitting well into place.

Roland felt proud of their craft, he reminisced about the long days and tiring nights put into the house. They had trouble than they previously thought.

Roland glanced through the opening between Orin's door and the doorframe. Inside Orin's room lay a bed with dwarven craftsmanship laden in the frame of the bed. The carving is of Durin standing in front of the Sun. Durin in tales being a legendary Dwarf that is honored in September or Durin's Days. Here in Rohan Durin is only known from aged books and tomes. For he existed before The War, before Sauron, before a long period where darkness enshrouded Middle Earth in darkness.

Upon the bed lay Orin with a sorrowful look facing the floor. In his palm is a necklace belonging to his mother till she passed.

'How are you fairing?' Asks Roland concerned for his friend's state.

'I'm fine, I guess I'm a little worried.' Replies Orin shocked that Roland was there without him noticing. I'm worried that we won't become one of the Rohirim, that we won't achieve our dream.'

'You shan't say such things like that, we worked harder than most to achieve our goals in this tourney.' States Roland. 'We can achieve our dream, right my friend?'

'Right! You do realize that we are still going to struggle.' States Orin back in his usual upright mood.

'This I know.' Replies Roland.

From the kitchen a healing Grith yells, 'Are the two of you going to slack off and waste all of your hard work!?'

'Of course not why would we waste such precious time and effort!' Retorts Roland. 'We will be right outside.'

'You ready Orin?' Roland says stretching out his hand to Orin.

'I'm ready.' Replies Orin shaking Roland's hand.

Meeting Grith outside Roland and Orin see him holding the metal plated scale mail.

Roland takes a deep breath before mumbling, 'Whatever it takes to be apart of the Rohirrim, to be strong.'

'To keep Rohan safe.' Orin softly speaks to himself gripping the necklace once more.

'To keep your skills keen and well recognized you two will practice everything we've done so far in mail! At least that's what you would expect, but you two have already met my expectations. Do you remember our first skirmish?' Grith says, confusing and worrying Roland and Orin.

'Yeah.' Answers Orin in a state of wonder.

"Now, fight me in scale armor.' States Grith with a menacing grin.

Roland and Orin go into shock, then discuses amongst themselves about combat tactics and decisive strategies. The two friends then coated with scale mail and wielding quarter staffs, take on a fighting stance, they now prove their worth. 

'You two better bring your best to this battle, you're facing a Rider once more.' States Grith trying to ruffle Orin and Roland's feathers, it was to no avail.