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<blockquote data-quote="RedTonic" data-source="post: 5705655" data-attributes="member: 98994"><p>A double update so I don't get too far behind. This little interlude happens the same night as the prisoner's hanging. I'll edit later to put things in chronological order. This one hasn't been heavily proofed and is taken from our pbp section, so it may read a bit oddly.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">*****</p><p></p><p>The gallows' weight hung on Mikealus's heart. There was no ease on hand, and he doubted there would be any taste of relief if he kept his own council. Doubting there was very much time before the others began to get their rest, he quickly set out to find Captain al’Pacem. His cousin had far more experience with these matters, and while the Order of the Silver Horn was not a particularly warlike Order, he had faith that at least a few souls had found their rest under his superior's blade. Perhaps he had some words of wisdom - or at least understanding - to offer.</p><p></p><p>Al'Pacem was resting near the mill, on a huge granite slab beside the curve of the river. The wheel creaked rhythmically, an echo of the frogs which would soon repopulate the farmlands here. The captain was methodically cleaning his armor once again, picking out tiny bits of dried up dirt from the articulated splints. He looked up at Mikealus's approach, expression unreadable in the lowering gloom.</p><p></p><p>"Yes, cousin?" He asked, breaking the quiet. He scooted over, though there was plenty of room on the stone--it didn't seem to have been washed up by the river, but rather perhaps a stone carted out from a ruin or some such. It was well enough for sitting on, at any rate. Al'Pacem went back to working on the armor. There were several other pieces nearby, things the older man was repairing, or intended to. The horses were bedded down some several paces off, asleep under and around an open-walled shed.</p><p></p><p>The smell of horse was a comfort, at least. "I was hoping to speak with you a moment." Pulling up some stone himself, Mikealus decided he was finally allowed to do the same as his superior, and took off his chain shirt. It was not so heavy, and it was certainly something he was getting used to, but there was an amazing sense of relief when you finally realized, after an entire day, that you had not properly taken a full, deep breath, because of the weight of steel covering you.</p><p></p><p>He began methodically undoing the stays, and working the cumbersome piece of armor off of his shoulders.</p><p></p><p>"The man who died. I am... frustrated. As I said before - if I had not struck true with my lance, there is a chance we would be dragging two prisoners along as our bait, not just one. To take his life seems such a waste, when it was by the order of another that the graves were being defiled." He considered pulling the metal up, which would obscure his mouth and voice. He finished his thought before doing so. "I am restless. Though his actions may have earned him his fate... I have never killed a man before."</p><p></p><p>The lower half of Mikealus's face disappeared underneath the rim of his armor.</p><p></p><p>"It is good not to relish killing," al'Pacem replied, voice low. "Yes, we may easily have had two hooks to fish with; it is also just as likely that we would have never discovered they were not acting alone.</p><p></p><p>"Still, of their own wills, they did this thing--disturbing the graves and risking the anger of the dead. Knowing what the sentence would be, were they caught, no less. Even ignorance wouldn't excuse their crime, however. What they did was unnatural and to the detriment of this community. In defiling the dead, those two men risked the well-being of the souls in this village. We have not had any incursions of wrathful dead since the crusade. I would not have that change now." Al'Pacem sighed and rubbed oil into the crannies of his armor. </p><p></p><p>After working for a few more minutes in silence, wherein Mikealus squirmed out of his armor, al'Pacem added, "Take heart, Mikealus--we are a land at peace. You are unlikely to be called to kill many men in your life. It is good to have a gentle hand. Still, don't let others use that against you. Many believe that mercy is a weakness; that to strike one lower than yourself is just; that ends justify means. But these are illusions." </p><p></p><p>"Power is measured twice." Mikealus agreed, almost dismissively. While a valuable tool, he often tired of the words he'd sworn himself to. The Will of Thrones felt, at times, oppressive - yet always, it seemed, it was a valuable reference, a clear guide, if one was humble enough to trust and follow it.</p><p></p><p>"...but still. If Mercy is not a weakness - yet if the harm those men could have done to the village is greater than the harm I caused them - and yet, and yet, and yet - still, for all of that... it did not feel right. Maybe I would feel better if I had challenged them. Why did I not call for them to yield? Even if I had simply run them down and delivered them, squirming, to be hung... I would not feel so responsible. I feel rather like a thief, to have stolen their lives, than a paladin, to have protected others." Maybe that was what it boiled down to: it simply did not feel as though the part he had played was a righteous one.</p><p></p><p>"I simply wish I had a way to quiet my soul. It will be a long night ahead."</p><p></p><p>"All are delivered to the ends they deserve," al'Pacem reminded Mikealus gently. "If you do not feel sound in your decision, I recommend you take a vigil--but later. For now, we all need rest, even if you youth don't remember that we were chased out of our sleep by buffalo. Not all things in life are glory. Some are just... necessary."</p><p></p><p>The advice was sound, and some of the weight relieved, to have voiced his feelings. Mikealus bowed his head to the captain and smiled in gratitude, gathering his armor up under his arm. It was a relief to stand straight, without its familiar burden - for at least a little while. "Thank you cousin. I will leave you to your sleep, and will look forward to mine as well." He'd never been able to decide if first or second watch was the worse - did sleep, interrupted, make up for the agony of delaying your need to rest those extra hours?</p><p></p><p>As al'Pacem had said, in either case, it was necessary. The young paladin headed into the night, to do his duty, and look forward to another sunrise.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="RedTonic, post: 5705655, member: 98994"] A double update so I don't get too far behind. This little interlude happens the same night as the prisoner's hanging. I'll edit later to put things in chronological order. This one hasn't been heavily proofed and is taken from our pbp section, so it may read a bit oddly. [center]*****[/center] The gallows' weight hung on Mikealus's heart. There was no ease on hand, and he doubted there would be any taste of relief if he kept his own council. Doubting there was very much time before the others began to get their rest, he quickly set out to find Captain al’Pacem. His cousin had far more experience with these matters, and while the Order of the Silver Horn was not a particularly warlike Order, he had faith that at least a few souls had found their rest under his superior's blade. Perhaps he had some words of wisdom - or at least understanding - to offer. Al'Pacem was resting near the mill, on a huge granite slab beside the curve of the river. The wheel creaked rhythmically, an echo of the frogs which would soon repopulate the farmlands here. The captain was methodically cleaning his armor once again, picking out tiny bits of dried up dirt from the articulated splints. He looked up at Mikealus's approach, expression unreadable in the lowering gloom. "Yes, cousin?" He asked, breaking the quiet. He scooted over, though there was plenty of room on the stone--it didn't seem to have been washed up by the river, but rather perhaps a stone carted out from a ruin or some such. It was well enough for sitting on, at any rate. Al'Pacem went back to working on the armor. There were several other pieces nearby, things the older man was repairing, or intended to. The horses were bedded down some several paces off, asleep under and around an open-walled shed. The smell of horse was a comfort, at least. "I was hoping to speak with you a moment." Pulling up some stone himself, Mikealus decided he was finally allowed to do the same as his superior, and took off his chain shirt. It was not so heavy, and it was certainly something he was getting used to, but there was an amazing sense of relief when you finally realized, after an entire day, that you had not properly taken a full, deep breath, because of the weight of steel covering you. He began methodically undoing the stays, and working the cumbersome piece of armor off of his shoulders. "The man who died. I am... frustrated. As I said before - if I had not struck true with my lance, there is a chance we would be dragging two prisoners along as our bait, not just one. To take his life seems such a waste, when it was by the order of another that the graves were being defiled." He considered pulling the metal up, which would obscure his mouth and voice. He finished his thought before doing so. "I am restless. Though his actions may have earned him his fate... I have never killed a man before." The lower half of Mikealus's face disappeared underneath the rim of his armor. "It is good not to relish killing," al'Pacem replied, voice low. "Yes, we may easily have had two hooks to fish with; it is also just as likely that we would have never discovered they were not acting alone. "Still, of their own wills, they did this thing--disturbing the graves and risking the anger of the dead. Knowing what the sentence would be, were they caught, no less. Even ignorance wouldn't excuse their crime, however. What they did was unnatural and to the detriment of this community. In defiling the dead, those two men risked the well-being of the souls in this village. We have not had any incursions of wrathful dead since the crusade. I would not have that change now." Al'Pacem sighed and rubbed oil into the crannies of his armor. After working for a few more minutes in silence, wherein Mikealus squirmed out of his armor, al'Pacem added, "Take heart, Mikealus--we are a land at peace. You are unlikely to be called to kill many men in your life. It is good to have a gentle hand. Still, don't let others use that against you. Many believe that mercy is a weakness; that to strike one lower than yourself is just; that ends justify means. But these are illusions." "Power is measured twice." Mikealus agreed, almost dismissively. While a valuable tool, he often tired of the words he'd sworn himself to. The Will of Thrones felt, at times, oppressive - yet always, it seemed, it was a valuable reference, a clear guide, if one was humble enough to trust and follow it. "...but still. If Mercy is not a weakness - yet if the harm those men could have done to the village is greater than the harm I caused them - and yet, and yet, and yet - still, for all of that... it did not feel right. Maybe I would feel better if I had challenged them. Why did I not call for them to yield? Even if I had simply run them down and delivered them, squirming, to be hung... I would not feel so responsible. I feel rather like a thief, to have stolen their lives, than a paladin, to have protected others." Maybe that was what it boiled down to: it simply did not feel as though the part he had played was a righteous one. "I simply wish I had a way to quiet my soul. It will be a long night ahead." "All are delivered to the ends they deserve," al'Pacem reminded Mikealus gently. "If you do not feel sound in your decision, I recommend you take a vigil--but later. For now, we all need rest, even if you youth don't remember that we were chased out of our sleep by buffalo. Not all things in life are glory. Some are just... necessary." The advice was sound, and some of the weight relieved, to have voiced his feelings. Mikealus bowed his head to the captain and smiled in gratitude, gathering his armor up under his arm. It was a relief to stand straight, without its familiar burden - for at least a little while. "Thank you cousin. I will leave you to your sleep, and will look forward to mine as well." He'd never been able to decide if first or second watch was the worse - did sleep, interrupted, make up for the agony of delaying your need to rest those extra hours? As al'Pacem had said, in either case, it was necessary. The young paladin headed into the night, to do his duty, and look forward to another sunrise. [/QUOTE]
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