Learienthel the Legend of the Battlefield

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Role

Chapter 2

Slice.

In a twirl, her left sword swept outside in the air against an imaginary goblin
as she went through the morning practice maneuvers.

Swoosh.

In her right hand, her other sword followed around in the same left-bearing
twirl, cutting high against an imaginary orc which suddenly had appeared from
behind a rock.

Leap.

She flipped thru the air dodging a glauruk spear that would have came out of
nowhere.

Tumble.

She rolled thru the dirt with such fluidity, the only maneuver that would save
an elf from the unfathomable crushing power of a stone giant's boulder throw.

Silence.

Learienthel had rolled to a sitting position and now looked out from the peaks
south of Galadon and it was beautiful. Free from a shield with two swords in
her hands, the world now held endless possibilities. It was beautiful, she felt
beautiful.

Peace.

She would not walk away from the ways of the paladin. She would not walk away
from the crusade. It was the path that was now different. If the path was
devoid of prayer, it would be no less affective. She would accomplish what the
most chosen of paladins never had and she'd do it as the greatest swordmaster
in the land.

Role

Chapter 1

She failed.
Two years of training to be a paladin, and now it all led nowhere. She stood
there, stunned. Her belongings were already bundled for her forced departure,
sitting on top of a bed made all the starker for its stripped bed sheets. She
had learned the blessings, she had uttered the prayers, but she had no affinity
for them.

She had tried, she had failed.

She would not let the tears come! She was stronger than this! However, strength
was never the issue was it? She had liked to believe, had wanted to believe,
that her martial prowess would buy her time even when it became obvious she was
falling far behind those in her year's class. When her colleagues moved on to
more advanced prayers, and the following year's students were also moving
beyond her in liturgical studies, it just couldn't be hidden anymore.

She couldn't master a simple blessing.

She took a few steps over to her bed, staring around the cold quarters. She
began laughing at herself. Why was she so sad? She hated this place and
studying dead gods who had no time for her. The weapons yard was the only place
she felt truly proud of how far she had come and recognized talents with her
sword mastery. She looked down at the swords lying against her bundled
belongings, and the laughter turned to a sigh of acceptance. She stroked one of
those swords like she would an old friend.

Her swords had never failed her. Not once, not in all the many styles of sword
fighting. With her swords in hand, she wasn't just good, she was better than
good.

Stilling herself of emotion, Learienthel gathered her belongings as she also
gathered her strength. She had not failed the tenants of a paladin nor the
elven gods, they had failed her. She would move forward in the ways she knew
how. There were other ways to crusade in this world and make a difference.
Expertly sheathing her swords, she squeezed them fondly. It was not enough to
be good, she would be the best.

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