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An Isilrim Resigned

Tags: Arathis,  Elusul

Short Summary: Elusul Isilrim, who has recently resigned his office as Knight-Admiral of Dol Amroth, is summoned by Arathis Isilrim, the new Captain of Ships. The result is one less Isilrim knight.
Date (real-life): 2014-03-05
Scene Location: Ithilcar manor, Dol Amroth
Time of Day: Midday


** Background Note: If you read this scene in conjunction with the recently uploaded one between Elphir and Elusul, you must add to their conversation a moment where Elusul passes Elphir control of the Fleet of Gondor's Escort Fleet (+ghelp navy-ranks6), which Arathis had delegated to Elusul upon becoming Captain of Ships approximately one month prior.


Ithilcar, Library

        A long, rectangular room, this is the library of the Isilrim in Dol Amroth. One half of it, the northern half, is designated for the tall book stacks that house the various tomes and manuscripts that the People of the Moon have collected during the many long years of their existence. The stands are made of solid oak, and each one traverses the width of the room; there are spaces for at least fifty books on each shelf, and each shelf is overfull with books both old and new. They are not catalogued in any sort of order; however, the Isilrim lords and their many cousins know the exact location of all the books. There is a small doorway on the northern end, just beyond the last stack, that leads to the small study. It is composed of a desk, a fire-lamp, and some small writing utensils.

        The south end is filled with a myriad of chairs and roundtables. Each chair is plush, outfitted in the softest and finest fabrics to be found in Gondor, and as such provides a great deal of comfort for the studious person. Each table is round and polished to a mirrorlike sheen; the construction of it is unknown, but it appears to be cherry of some sort. At any time, one might find the Isilrim or their guests studying the various texts to be found herein. In the very center of the room, there is a small glass enclosure. In this enclosure might be found various artifacts of Isilrim past: swords, shields, and armour. In front of that is a small podium, upon which sits The History of The People of the Moon; this book is a definitive history of the people and house of Isilrim.

Objects:                           Exits:

Indoron                            Out                        <O>



Though the denizens of Amroth heed southern princes, and afar are the rebel ships of a claimant king, the only true sovereign to reach now into the Ithilcar is the spring sun, resplendent upon its cloudless throne.

Through open windows, its rays touch an aged tapestry, taled to hail from the Isilrim's ancestors -- there are the shores of southern Umbar, its wasteful jungles and tribal deserts; the isles of Tol Uilgaer, Tolfalas, and Tolcrist; and all the waters about and between, taking the form of jagged waves in the southwest.

Arathis stands alone within the library; a full lunch plate idles upon a footstool. Nearby there is blade with the markings of the Hlorithain.



Entering into the library this day is Elusul. The Man looks alert and well rested with grey eyes that have recovered some of their brightness. Once in the library, the Sea Knight finds Arathis after a quick glance around the room and he walks over to his kinsman and moves to embrace him. "Arathis." The name is delivered with genuine pleasure and warmth.



The aged captain returns the embrace, albeit with deliberate caution, whether in concern not to agitate his kinsman's lost limb, or perhaps some other care.

"Elusul," Arathis says expectantly, "pray, how is thy son?"



Releasing Arathis, Elusul smiles with pride as he answers, "He is well. Progressing day by day in his studies. Your brother has taught him well."

Going on, the proud father adds, "My two daughters are growing by leaps and bounds as well. The older one is ready I think to be introduced to society and her sister is not far behind."



"Will he be joining us upon the seas?" Arathis smiles thinly, slanting his head towards the map. "I shall need guidance soon, and I am, I hear, now no longer with thine."



"That remains to be seen." Elusul shrugs and explains, "When he was young, he loved being aboard ship, but now that he is older and understands better the tale of his mother's family, he is not so keen on carrying on their tradition. But I have hipe that he will be drawn to the gull's cry someday."



Arathis nods in silence, as if to hear his kinsman continue.



"What of the fleets in Pelargir? Do they not have experienced men who know stem from stern and port from starboard?" Elusul frowns, though there is mirth in his eyes. "In any case, I have left service in the Swanfleet, but I am not dead."



The Isilrim captain strides before the ancient image of the seas; thus Anor would frame him, yet his wear is grey, and does not catch the light. 

But his eyes shine brightly still, as hard winter fruit within a stonewall’s lattice, ashen yet alive. They peer and fix lively upon Elusul, heralding Arathis’ mild grasp upon the lost arm’s shoulder.

“Elusul,” he states flatly, a slow march to his words, “Calembel musters, yet ye have no thought for it; I call upon thee only this once for use of thy office, and ye resign it.

“Nay, ye are not dead. Yet thy people’s lord believes ye have served him poorly, and I have come to hear you.

“Do ye no longer count thyself amongst the Isilrim?”



Elusul's expression grows much more seriously, even pained. "Kinsman, your question grieves me. If you refer to your last letter, you did not indicate any expectation to use my office; rather, you wished to discuss the pretender's remaining footholds. Did I misunderstand?"




“Tell me, Elusul, what thoughts did ye host, when surrendering both thy office and a fleet of Gondor to a young knight, when both were entrusted to thee by thy kin? What did ye understand then?”

Arathis’s hand lowers upon Elusul’s shoulder, nearing the arm’s stump.



"When knight-officers entrust offices upon their fellow knights, they do so not on behalf of their prince, but rather their kin? Hmmmm." Elusul looks steadily at Arathis and shakes his head. "My office and the fleet it commands I entrusted to the Prince Imrahil. That his son was the agent of the prince's will does not mean he is the one who will take up command. And even if he does, do you doubt Imrahil's judgment?"




"Thy office was entrusted not by a Prince but a Knight-Herald kinsman, when, alas, thy Prince was missing, and many of thy Prince's court suspect. And thy kinsman is servant of the Realm, of the Lord Steward, whose seat is now challenged. Yet still ye offer up what has been charged to thy command, as if thy office and fleet were free for thee to give over -- and ye do so not even to thy Prince, in truth, but to a boy. Aye, in what matter would ye even name thy conduct service to Imrahil? 

"But alas, Elusul, though I doubt his judgment some, I must doubt thine more. It is the same mind that has found marriage in traitors. It is the same -- alas, Elusul! -- that has brought Lady Niphredil to Tolcrist, and so led Calardan to swear curse, whereby he has now fallen.

"Alas, Elusul! So! Ye imagine I should brook question from thee!"

However, Arathis releases his kinsman's wound without further grasp. He only strides towards his idle meal and the nearby Hlorithain blade.

Hearing the captain's voice arisen, attendants have shut the doors of the library.



The younger man steps back out of Arathis' reach and speaks firmly, without anger, but also without deference, "It would seem you misjudged your own office. Is not a knight-herald the voice of the prince? Again I say to you, if the prince had not wished to accept my resignation, I would gladly be in my spire above his palace this very day."

Elusul suddenly laughs, though it is without mirth. "It seems as though my every decision, from whom I have wedded to the passengers I took with me to an island that long had been a stalwart bastion of Gondor's coastal defense is seen as the wrong one in each case. If you see them this way, i wonder why you are surprised at this latest of a long line."



As Elusul laughs, Arathis takes Calardan's sword in hand and hears palely. And when Elusul is done speaking, the elder Isilrim, second son of Sirion, strides casually with blade pointed towards his boot.

"Silence, fiend. Thy conduct is not at thy Prince's pleasure alone." Menace carries Arathis forward; his grasp tightens about the pommel. "Alas, men whose only oaths are to princes; upon their hands is lost Numenor; each orc and Easterling calls out to some prince too, as do the Pretender's loyalists. Alas so, men who love not their kin, nor their Steward; and throw down their arms, when empowered at last to achieve just ends for the Faithful of their Realm, in the hour of their greatest need."

"Alas," grates Arathis, raising Calardan's blade, "I am not surprised, only betrayed."

But he does not strike -- no, the blade is flipped, so that the pommel extends toward Elusul. "Alas, may ye deliver this sword to the Lady Niphredil or thy line be cast from the Isilrim; and dare not of me a single other word." 



Cold light gleams in Elusul's Isilrim eyes as Arathis speaks. These words are heard and heard well. The display of the sword is done before him and then Arathis makes his final declaration, offering the choice of the sword or of being stripped of name.

Eyes narrow and Elusul shakes his head at Arathis and without further ado he pivots sharply and departs the People of the Moon.



Date added: 2014-03-05 22:44:30    Hits: 127
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