The Night's Wanderer

Chapter 4 ✪ Skills of a Fighter

A few days had passed, and Lord Elrond guided the newly formed Fellowship down an open corridor to the training grounds of the Rivendell Guards. 

Since the meeting of the council, there had been many apprehensive words surrounding the mystery person staying in Rivendell, especially when they gave Frodo their life during the formation of the Fellowship.

Elrond had seen little of his old friend, as had the rest, so he was taking it upon himself to try and show the Fellowship some of the skills Morrandir had to offer. 

Morrandir had actually been mostly in his room brewing up a range of potions and gathering ingredients from the forest for the journey ahead as his Lady and her Council had informed him that a lot of blood would be spilled in the coming months. As they never disclosed if it was to be his companions' blood or the foe's he decided it was best to be prepared and fully stocked with basics and necessities. 

Behind Elrond, as he led the group, Legolas and Aragorn held a small and quiet conversation. The Elvish words left their lips as they spoke between themselves of the journey ahead. Aragorn seemed quite determined for this journey, Legolas saw it more as a simple walk through Middle Earth -oh how they underestimated it.

Slowly Lord Elrond stopped and stood on the open balcony before the training grounds. His ears listened to the clanging of metal upon metal as a few Guards trained. The Fellowship surrounded him on the balcony, eyes watching as Elrond's Guards practiced their combat skills.

The two Guards at the front of the field spotted the Lord and bowed to him and the Fellowship. One of the two Guards wore something a bit more than basic training clothes, he was the leader of the group and his brown metal armour over his arms and chest indicated a higher status than the others. 

"My Lord," He spoke the language of Man up to the balcony, "how may we be of service?"

Elrond smiled slightly before glancing to the side of the field where a certain hooded figure stood. 

"I need you and your four best Guards to train with someone today." Lord Elrond spoke to the Captain of the Guards. "Handheld close-range weapons only."

The Captain nodded before yelling in Elvish across the field. Four elven Guards joined him by the balcony front -each one with a slightly different bladed weapon. One had a simple sword, another held two daggers, the Captain a long sword, and lastly two ellons both wielding a curved sword.

Elrond nodded to the Captain who stood ready with his men, awaiting the person they would train with. 

"Morrandir have you your own?" Lord Elrond called out, eyes moving to the edge of the battleground. The hooded figure bounced off the wall he leant upon and walked over, lightly, to the small group of Guards.

Slowly he drew his own swords which had sat in sheaths by his waist. Elrond smiled in understanding of the man of little words and nodded for the group of Guards to take their places on the field.

"You will want to pay attention to this, young hobbits." Lord Elrond spoke to the group around him. "Here you will see a fighting style unique to only one."

The hobbits gathered themselves closer to the balcony edge, intrigued, as did Boromir, Gimli, Aragorn, and Legolas. Gandalf, on the other hand, chuckled into his pipe at the elf's words.

Morrandir took his place on the field and the elven Guards formed a circle around him. Morrandir's lips moved silently as he stood, activating one of his more commonly used spells. 

All the Guards watched Lord Elrond for a sign to begin. With a nod of his head, all the elves on the field started moving at an unpredictable and fast pace.