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(Archive) PELARGIR: Rumors of Plague

Tags: Adargraw,  Indoron,  Fencrist,  Silmir,  Lominzil,  Farielle,  Menelglir,  Suliell,  Ssamori

Short Summary: A peasant (Suliell) brings news of a northern plague to Pelargir, where the Hosts and Knights take action.
Date (real-life): 2013-12-30
Scene Location: Pelargir
Pelargir: Forum of the Waters

This great Forum of Pelargir runs in a broad swathe of white- and rose-tiled stone from east to west, filling much of the northern space of the city. A fathom-wide channel of stone runs the length of the Forum down its center line, crossed at intervals by foot-bridges, and filled with a man-made tributary stream from Great Anduin beyond. Connected to this channel are numerous small pools on either side, each containing a tiny image of the Valar; in the Forum's center, a greater pool boasts a massive statue in green-veined marble of Ulmo, Lord of the Waters.

 Like flowers blooming on a riverbank, brightly-colored tents and awnings have sprung up throughout the Forum. Some are the stalls of merchants selling their wares, others are food-carts that fill the air with a dozens of scents; around all, the air is filled with the sound of a thousand voices. Ringing the outer edge of the Forum are more permanent structures--shops and inns--while southward it opens into the ancient heart of Pelargir; beyond a line of tall trees there, even here you see the tall minarets and domes. North, west, and east, roads trickle away into the rest of the city, toward distant city-walls.


The sun climbs swiftly on a morning that brings early hints of autumn. A steady breeze blows up the basin of the Anduin and into the city streets. The sounds of the market are in full swing, farmers with fresh harvested grains and other crops from up and down the Anduin are present and loudest here in the center of the marketplace. 

Through this walks an extraordinarily tall man. His black tabard and white tree marks him a man of the hosts; the four gold and black cables upon this shoulder mark him as both captain and lord. There are other men of the of the company of the White Tree about in the marketplace; the ship that flies their banners can just be seen, moored off the havens. 

The tall lord steps easily through the crowd--no doubt owing as much to his long, lean frame as to his garb--seeming to eye, but not approach various merchants and their stores of goods.

[Menelglir(#17324)] Among the market stalls is a soldier in a white cloak of Imrahil's guard. Menelglir is buying, of all things flowers.

A man in a blue tabard stands in front of the apple seller's booth, counting out coins. At one side, he bears a long, wrapped bundle; at the other, an extraordinarily beautiful lady.

"Where shall we go next?" Lominzil inquires of his sister.

Coming to the market this morning is another lord and captain of the hosts judging by his insignia that he bears much like his confrere present. Alone but for a few aides, he comes into this place of commerce and halts, raising a gloved hand in signal for those who come behind to stop and join him as well. Keen eyes survey slowly the crowds of Lebennin peasantry and sea-folk of the coasts, looking for one in particular.

[Farielle(#31396)] "Are there flowers for sale?" Farielle asks. "Or - no. Pastries!" A mischievous smile lights up her face. A tall man walks by, and she looks up to watch him pass.

Standing on the tips of her toes to look over the shoulder of someone who's cut in front of her, a young woman similarily dressed to many of the farmers and traders moves through the crowd looking for something or another among the various stalls. Dust from travel coats the lower hem of her skirt, and it would seem that she has traveled some distance to be here judging from the general disarray of her hair.

Her lips press together in a hard line as another steps in front of her as she approaches a stall, and it's with a sigh that she pushes past this person and asks a tersely spoken quiet question to no one in particular, "Is this place always so crowded?"

[Silmir(#24455)] Amidst the people selling their wares and soldiers buying sits a young man mending a fishing net. The ropes twist easily in his nimble fingers, dark hair tumbling in his face. He tosses his hair back just in time to catch sight of Lominzil, and his sister. His eyes linger for a moment on the lovely lady, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth before returning to his work. 
 The question to no one in particular makes him raise his head. "Usually, yes. One gets used to it, though." Silmir smiles and nods to the young woman who had asked, returning to his work repairing his nets.

Comes a second response to the softspoken question, as a long arm reaching out to let a hand fall upon the shoulder of the man who'd pushed in front of the peasant-woman. 

"But the folk of Pelargir are gracious, when they realize it, no doubt." 

Leaving his hand there, Adargraw Nimothan shifts his eyes to the fisherman. "A strange place to repair a net," he offers, "But perhaps you can help me; this is the last market I thought I would struggle to find a salted fish to break my fast."
"Pastries," confirms Lominzil, standing straighter to find such a desired quarry. "Over there, I think. But -- oh, it's Hir Menelglir."

He holds out a hand, seeking, with practiced posture of defense, to shield her from the crowd.

"Yes, tis I," says Menelglir, having caught sight of Farielle and Lominizil and, flowers in hand, heading their way. He bows before Farielle, then offers her the flowers.

This gathering of individuals foreign to the locality draws the second captain's attention and he nods to his aides and says something in command. The crowd seems to instinctively part for this newcomer and after a moment, he is near the small gathering amid the sea of buyers and sellers.

Uniforms are noted, ranks assessed, and sexes derived automatically and then the appropriate words come forth, "My lady and gentlemen, Lord Nimothan." It seems that more words are not forthcoming yet this early in the morning.

[Farielle(#31396)] Farielle catches Silmir's stare and doesn't, quite, flinch away from it. But she turns to Menelglir with open relief, smiling at him. "Thank you. I was just wishing for flowers."

A young aide follows behind the second captain. Though attempting to match his superior's sterness, there is a hint of mirth in his eyes and his mouth fights to remain a frown.

The young woman looks up at the man who has answered her rhetorcial question and sighs, offering a faint smile that might be a surrender as a second offers his opinion as well. Turning towards Adargraw she inclines her head in a small bow, "A tad overwhelming, honestly. My brother never mentioned that it was so..." 

With a wave of her hand, she finishes her sentences as if that alone would complete her unworded explanation of things, and her eyes turn to the stall before her and a selection of various bolts of woven cloth. Picking up a rough, plain cloth, she passes it to the stall owner holding up a couple fingers as she mouths the word 'five' for the measure she wants.

"I'm honestly amazed anyone can find anything in the chaos - including salted fish." Pausing, she turns to assess another, and it's with a small half smile and bow for Indoron, she offers another small bow. "Good morning..." Looking up, she pauses before asking curiously, "Speaking of finding things, do any here know where tonics and medicines are sold perhaps? It would save me a little floundering about."

[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir chuckles. "It is as good a place as any. This way I can keep my ears open for any news travelers bring." He chews his bottom lip pensively, looking at the crowded marketplace. "Had my brother not run off to Minas Tirith to join the guard, I would have a simple answer for that question, my lord. As it is, I have only my own lunch, which I might be able to share, if you wish." Simple bread and cheese is pulled out and offered.

"A noble choice, your brother made, then. I should wonder what man does not heed the Enemy in the east; and who in these lands has already forgot his agents in the south?" 

Though Adargraw's words are stern, his tone is easy. His hand returns to his side, waving off the proferred food, "I shall not take your repast." 

Turning, his gaze meets with the oncoming lord Telumehtar, who he greets with a simple nod.

"And Lord Telumehtar," comes the easy tenor once again, "The streets of Pelargir are awash with all the Men of the Hosts, it seems; and not a few Swan Knights; are only the Men of the fleet absent?"
[Silmir(#24455)] "Might have been more noble if he had at least said goodbye to our mother before leaving." Silmir's words are soft, though he bows his head respectfully to Adargraw's refusal of his food. The small lunch is put away and the net returned to, though the young man keeps his ears open for any other questions and news he might be able to pick up on.
"How kind of you. Is your wife here, too?" asks Lominzil, with a knowing smile. Then he falls silent and looks to the Hostmen, pulling Farielle a little closer.

"Then I should have bought more," Menelglir grins, handing the flowers over to Farielle. "Calenloth is well, and yes, she is here. Will you visit?" he replies to Lominzil--though out of the corner of his eye he pays attention to the other conversations clustered about them.

Seeing this refusal of a breakfast, Indoron smiles slightly, and it is a grim, mirthless smile. "That is... unfortunate. But you do a disservice to your mother yourself if you think her overly wounded. Mothers of Gondor understand."

[Silmir(#24455)] "It is simply difficult to understand. She may have understood, but the pain lingered. I could see it, even if she tried to hide it." Silmir clears his throat, looking up at the lords. "Either way, some have to stay behind or else no crops can be grown, or fish to be caught. Not every man is meant to be a soldier, though I have nothing but respect for those that are."

Smiling at the merchant, the young woman exchanges a handful of coins, accepting the cut cloth with a quick nod of her head. Tucking the cut and bundled length under her arm, she begins to turn away, her eyes flowing over the stalls as she searches for a likely destination. Again she rises up on her toes for a moment, and with a small sound of discovery, she smiles and drops back to her heels.

Glancing between the gathered men, as if remembering they're there, the woman smiles slightly, "Well, if you'll excuase me... I think I've seen where I should go next." With a small smile, she moves to one side to begin making her way through the crowd again.
"Please let Calenloth know," says Lominzil, smiling gently. "I'll bring some more."
"Anduin lane, third door from the birch, apothecary," he calls out, having plucked a thread of conversation somehwere from the crowd.

[Farielle(#31396)] "Yes, of course we will visit," Farielle says to Menelglir. Curiously, she looks after the woman Lomnzil has spoken to.

"Of course," Menelglir says, answering Lominzil and Farielle both. "Ah...should have told her to look for Calenloth," he says as he, too, watches the woman leave.

[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir's nets mended and set aside, he turns his attention to the nearby crate of freshly caught fish and a previously abandoned stall, ready to sell to the next group of travelers entering the town. A good business, as he has conveniently set himself very near sellers of fresh herbs and vegetables.

Turning slightly as a voice answer's her question, the common woman blinks and looks up at Lominzil with a lift of a brow, "Where... is that exactly? Do they have a good variety? I need something for treating fevers." She glance to Farielle as she speaks, offering a shy smile and a bowing of her head as she clears her throat, "Pardon my boldness. I am in a bit of a hurry."

Sizing up Silmir, Indoron turns to his aides and speaks quietly, barely to be heard over the crowd. "... ..., ... ... .... ... ..., ... .... ... ... ... ...."

Fencrist looks at Silmir Net-Mender and nods, looking serious for the first time.

[Farielle(#31396)] Farielle looks up at the mention of a fever. "I could show you," she says, her voice soft. "I have ... I did ... for a while, I worked with the healers."

[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir gives a nod back to Fencrist before returning attention to his task of cleaning a fish for a young housewife, chatting with her conversationally. He finishes and wraps the fish, waiting for the next customer.

"Indeed, all of us have some skill in healing," Menelglir nods in agreement. "And my wife as well, who is with the healers. But fevers? Is someone ill? We could help or send someone to help you. Especially fevers--we should take care they do not spread."

The tall Nimothan lord steps forward, away from the cloth-seller and the fisherman at his nets, and towards the aide who accompanied the Captain of the Silver Ship. 

"... ... ... ... a a place ... ... Ilmenterion," he says, leaning forward, and placing a hand on the man's shoulder, "I would ... with ... ..., and ... ... ... ... have ... ... ... .... ... ... Tree Company looks ...." 

Raising his eyes, Adargraw takes another step forward, his gaze shifting to the Swan Knight, not far off.

Fencrist's attention shifts from Silmir to the tall lord. The young aide is a bit shocked to be addressed directly and he throws a glance at Indoron. Clearing his throat, he addresses the lord directly, shoulders back and voice confident.

"I am humbly honored. If my captain agrees, I will accept."

Indoron is suddenly having whispered conversations take place right beside him and he turns to see Adargraw looming nearby. Fencrist speaks right up and the young man's words irk him. "Huh? What's this? Honors? My lord Nimothan, pay no mind to this brash young man. Much like his mother he is. Too much I daresay."

Smiling faintly, the young woman looks between Farielle and Menelglir and nods her head slowly, "That's good. Well, you see, actually... no one's sick yet. At least I hope they aren't, but we have been hearing terrible rumors about some disease in villages up near the mountains the past few weeks. Apparently they have it contained, and... well..., I can't say I believe some of the rumors. It's probably just the usual sort of disease that crop up during the cooler months. However, I just want to make sure I have the supplies on hand, just in case what with winter approaching and all... it will be harder to send for help then." 

Adjusting her package of rough cloth under har arm, the young woman adds with a shy smile, "I was told by my brother and others that I would find what I need here... I just need to find it."

 "Fascinating," murmurs the Squire, his eyes flickering to the young woman. "Tell us more. Perhaps we may be able to send help when it is needed."

"And what is the name of the ingredient that you must find?" Menelglir asks, questioning the young woman before him. "You must tell us more, yes--" he nods to Lominzil's comment, "and more, you must come to the healers and describe this sickness so that we may be prepared. I will escort you there myself, in fact." 

But Menelglir is stopped from doing so immediately by Lord Nimothan looking toward him. "My lord--is there ought you require of me?"

Adargraw nods, taking a single stride forward towards the Swan Knight, shaking his head slightly, he waves his hand again, "What is this, then?" he asks, turning not to Menelglir, but to the peasant woman.

"Cloth and herbs for fever," he says, "Speak of what has brought you here."

Both brows lifting, the young woman blinks at the torrent of words and offers a small, faintly confused smile to Menelglir and then Adargraw, "I'm looking for coriander, comfrey or horehound, and lavender root... at a minimum. As for the other question... well, I haven't seen the disease in person. All I have is what's been passed along to our farm from travelers and other farmers, and, to be perfectly honest, half of it sounds .... strange."

Turning towards Lominzil she adds, "But I can relate to you what I have heard through heresay if it's any help." Pausing, the young woman brushes her fingers through slightly tangled black hair, taking a moment to gather her thoughts, "The first sign is a cough, running nose, and sneezing - or some combination of those. Not long after that, a particularily severe fever develops. I'm told that it's bad enough to normally render the suffer unconcious for a period of several days, and in particularily bad cases...." She pauses again, adjusting her grip on the bundle of cloth again, "Apparently, if the fever runs to hot and too long, it drives the sufferer to madness - breaking his mind in some way."

[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir looks up from his work, listening to the woman speak of the fever in her village. He does not pause in cleaning the fish and wrapping them, however. He looks up again at the description of the disease, hoping to memorize the details to keep a look out for any signs of it between this port and his home of Dol Amroth.

"And where is this, where has this sickness stricken?" Adargraw is quick to respond, with a glance towards the Swan-Knight, "For the Knight speaks truly, healers must be sent; the wake of the Pretender has left Lebennin hard spent, I need not tell you, I am sure."

"Surely, it has, as Lord Nimothan says," Menelglir nods. "Even if there is rumor of it, we must trace the rumor until we find the truth. Gondor cannot lose more of its peoples."

[Farielle(#31396)] "Comfrey grows here, I am sure," Farielle offers. "If not, I know we have it in our gardens."

[Silmir(#24455)] "Coriander can be found here in the marketplace, it is used in cooking on occasions." Silmir's voice is quiet, holding little of the easy confidence it had previously. "How far north has it supposedly spread? Is there any rumor of it in Minas Tirith?" For all his resentment of his brother, he clearly still cares about him.

"Well, I cannot say exactly." The young woman responds with a small shrug, "I live almost directly to the north west of here, but south of the mountains by a couple day's travel. From what I understand, the disease apparently orginated in some place even further to the north west, near the base of the mountains - at least that's where the rumors have been coming out of. I imagine, if you traveled up in that direction, you could find people who have more knowledge than I."

Smiling, she nods her head slightly at the offers and hints on where to find plants from Farielle and Silmir. Turning towards him, she shakes her head slowly at the mention of the north, "No, well, nothing from the east of where I live, at least those passing through haven't spoken of anything, and there are no rumors in the closest village to me except for the far north west."

This talk of plague brings a greater frown than before to Indoron's face. Coming up beside the Lord Nimothan and the Swansmen, he speaks darkly, "Northwest? Lands occupied by the Pretender! The Enemy has used plague to weaken Gondor before. The ramparts must be manned in case this is a prelude to an attack."

Indoron shudders at the prospect. "I have seen it, I have /felt/ it. The shadow of Death. It is terrible!" Heavy breaths are taken as the captain regains control.

"We have supplies here, as Lady Farielle and the young man say," Menelglir says, nodding to both--and then sending a sharp look to the Captain. "West was occupied by the Pretender, but never northwest--not by the mountains. But this good woman," he nods to the peasant, 'can sketch us a map of where her town is? And the name of that town?"

"Do not speak so loudly, Captain," warns Lominzil Girithlin. "This ought to be brought to council, and the lady as well."

[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir sighs in relief at the hope that his brother is safe in Minas Tirith, away from any plague. He smiles a little broader now as he works. The outburst by Indoron draws his attention once again, this time with a raised eyebrow in concern for the captain.

Adargraw nods, a frown grown over his own lips. 

"I have made a place in the Ilmentirion," he says, "Where we might hold a suitable council. Gather your supplies today," he says to the young woman, "We shall not delay your return long."

Fencris quickly comes up beside Indoron and places a hand on the captain's shoulder. Looking at the others, the young aid says, "my father is tired. You can imagine the strain he is under."

Staring at Indoron with a all together surprised expression, the woman turns slowly, cautiously back towards Menelglir and offers a single nod, "I can at least draw something well enough to get you to my home village, certainly. It's a small place named Lafgobel - surrounded by a fair number of farms and such."

Bowing slightly to Adargraw, she adds, "I'd appreciate not being kept long." The woman smiles slightly as she adds, "But I'll gladly help as I can."

Indoron feels the weight of his son's hand on his shoulder and the added presence of his other aide who is used to the captain's moods. Breathing easier now, the Telumehtar lord lowers his head and says, "Yes, tired. It has been a long vigil waiting for events in the west while minding the east... Excuse me for speaking out of turn."

"Lominzil, Lady--would you see to this woman's lodgings and comfort?" Menelglir says. "The High Guard will take care of her expenses while she is here. If you can see to that now, I can attend to other matters."

"Of course," says Lominzil. "Have you finished your shopping today, ah..."

He trails off, looking to his sister. "Farielle, you ought to go back first. I think Aunt Tathar will be waiting."

[Farielle(#31396)] "I can come with you," Farielle protests.

"I only need to find the herbs I mentioned." The young woman gives Menelglir a grateful smile as she turns to reply to Lominzil's question. "That should be all I realy need, and I can pack up the lot of it before I rest this evening. I'd like to be headed back home before the light's gone on the morrow - if it can be helped."

Menelglir steps quickly away from the group.

"Forgive me, then" says the blue-eyed man affably. "Do you see the house of two stories there, named the King and Captains? If it please you, I will reserve lodgings there under your name - if you might give me one?"

"Could be dangerous, Fari," Lominzil murmurs to his sister, clasping her hand.

Indoron turns to his son and to his aide and says quietly, "Let us return to our lodgings and break our fasts. Food will do us all some good." He glances over at the Swansmen and his brother lord and then turns away to head off to wherever he is staying in the city.

Fencrist nods in acquiescence to Indoron's command. To the others, he smiles and gives a shallow bow and then turns to follow his father.

Watching the two of them with a curious little half smile, the young lady nods at Lominzil's question. "Thank you. I appreciate you going to the trouble for me. The name's Suliell." The young woman responds with an affable smile and another small bow, "Suliell Rhofel."

Pausing, she tips her head to look at the building, "I need merely give them my name correct?"

[&lt;#31396>] "But I am a healer, also," Farielle whispers back, but it is only a moment more before she acquiesces. 'All right. If you wish it. I will tell Aunt Tathar what is happening.'

"My name is Lominzil," says the squire, bowing his head. "Goodwoman Suliell, your lodgings will be ready by the evening. Safe tidings to you."

"Thank you." Suliell's eyes brighten and she gives the squire a smile. "If you'll excuse me then. I do need to hurry along and finish finding these herbs." Turning, the woman hurries away in the general direction where she was directed earlier for the apothecary, turning around once to offer a small wave before dissapearing into the crowd.

[Silmir(#24455)] Silmir watches the woman hurry off as he begins cleaning up the stand for the day, all his fish sold. "I sincerely hope you find the source of this plague before more grow ill." He smiles to the guardsmen and lords, gathering his supplies.

[Farielle(#31396)] Farielle turns towards the home they are staying in with their aunt, Tathar Nimothan.

Date added: 2014-02-26 00:56:34    Hits: 32
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