D5 MM Introspection

[Ser Jorah Holt]

(ooc bit of roleplay around doing a rumour roll and inspired by the rainbow thread)

Jorah found Trelane outside, at the entrance to Raventree Hall sharpening his short sword and watching the rain come down.
“What’s wrong?” He asked his young squire. They were still forming that important Knight/Squire relationship. What he taught the young man would shape him for the rest of his life. He hadn’t done a great job with Daveth;
he had succumbed to revenge, but here he hoped he would train Trelane to be a man his father could be proud of.
“I couldn’t sleep last night, not after everything that happened. Argo has been cleaned, your armour polished and I’ve been listening to the servants talking about their lord.”

[url=Knowledge streetwise][/url]: 3d6k3 8

Jorah could see the young man’s hands were red raw.

“You didn’t do that just polishing my armour despite the dirt in the cavern.” Jorah observed

“I kept cleaning them Ser. They don’t feel clean at the moment.”

“Last night in the cavern, you killed one of Ser Hugh’s fanatics. I hope that was the first person that you have had to do that.”

“First time I’d even been in battle. I was tutored by our Master at Arms and I’ve seen jousting and the melees at tournaments, but until last night, I’d never seen real combat as you sent me to protect Daveth when you led the battle against those mercenaries. How do you deal with it? I’ve seen you kill and it does not seem to bother you at all.”

“Never think that killing somebody is something that should ever be simple and should never bother you. It’s never easy and it never should be. You draw a weapon, you hold somebody’s life in your hands. All the practice and training in the world can never prepare you fully for the first time you have to kill. I’ve seen men fully armoured and well trained, with skill at arms shown by tournament victories under their belts reduced to a shell, unable to handle the reality of actual combat.
Some people enjoy the bloodshed, others are completely detached and it does not bother them and others see other lives as dispensable for whatever reason they have convinced themselves they are more important. All of them are people you should avoid becoming.
When I kill somebody, it is because they have chosen to be there;
there is a reason why we are in conflict. Sometimes, the reasons are foolish and if I can, I’ll try to keep them alive. However, if a weapon is drawn, you should be prepared to finish the fight, even if you did not start it. Last night, people died because two foolish houses have kept a feud going for centuries and have driven good people to take up arms.”

Trelane listened intently “I’m never going to be one of them;
the butchers, the fanatics. It’s all just a waste of effort, but I can understand revenge.”

“Never let the fear and the anger twist you up inside. Good people can become what they fear and hate.” Jorah thought about Daveth, “Do you think that the people we fought last night deserved to die?”

Trelane thought about that for a moment. “They had just done a horrible thing, but I didn’t hate them. Those that stayed behind, there was something not right about them.”

“They were driven, driven mad some would say. I’ve fought fanatics before and they are the worst to fight. You can generally understand what drives them, but trying to convince a fanatic that what they are doing is wrong is like trying to catch a storm in a goblet. You can’t hope to contain the fury!” Jorah ruffled the young man’s hair, “But last night is not the only reason you cannot sleep is it? I saw you when the Wildfire struck the Green Door Inn. The sweat pouring down your face, that wasn’t from the heat.”

Trelane looked off in the distance, a memory playing through his mind.
“I’ve seen fire;
I’ve seen what it can do to a person. I know here,” he touched his head, “that we need fire to heat us and feed us and I’m sure that fire priest from House Longshore can tell me all about it, but I’ve seen it at its’ most ferocious.”

He untucked and lifted up his left trouser leg to reveal a burn, several years old that went up most of his thigh muscle. He covered it back up again quickly, ashamed to have it on display.
“I was lucky to survive what caused this, but a cousin of mine was not so lucky. Please don’t ask me here about it though.” He looked in the direction where the Green Door Inn stood only the night before continuing, “Ser Jorah, there are things you should know. Provided we survive this week, you should meet my father.”

“And I will.” Ser Jorah looked up at the sky. “Will you look at that, a rainbow. Maybe today won’t be so bad after all.”