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MINAS TIRITH: Foodie Reception

Tags: Menelglir,  Co,  Indoron,  Sul,  Fencrist,  Galad,  Gweneth,  Gwen,  Tuil's Logs

Short Summary: Gathering at the house of Lord Telumehtar, guests discuss the dishes submitted for the food contest of the midsummer festival and also the upcoming council. More the latter than the former.
Date (real-life): 2014-04-01
Scene Location: Telumehtar House, Minas Tirith
Date (in-game): July 25, 3061
Time of Day: Evening
Weather: Clear and cool
Mindon a Menel(#24207Rn)
This manor descends from days of yore, when the glory of Gondor was still greater and kings reigned upon the throne. This is clearly reflected here, for this hall's walls are of marble not darker than the city wall of Dol Amroth. Upon the ceiling, the white slowly fades into black until, in the company of painted stars, it has made place for a night sky. In the centre of this sky rest the Arms of House Telumehtar.

Along the east wall are two high doors that lead away to the banquet hall of the manor. In the west wall a hearth has been carved out, its back slightly charred. When in use, the flames that dance inside provide the room with warmth and light. Beside the hearth a cord of wood has been placed - outside the reach of the flames, but close enough to easily add some to the fire. Several comfortable chairs can be found before the fireplace. To the north are stairs leading up that climb over high doors with many glass panes that look out over the garden. To the south are window slits and mighty silver doors that lead to the Court of the Court of the Gate.

Obvious exits:
Private Garden, Lord Telumehtar's Chambers, Banquet Hall, and Out to the Streets

Weather:            Clear
Time:               Early Morning <08:31:06 >
Season:             Summer
Date:               Ormenel - July 25, 3061
Real Time:          Tue Apr 01 19:10:22 2014

The hall this evening is alight with candles, creating a warm, golden atmosphere. The front doors and the doors leading the garden are open, allowing the cool air to circulate freely from one end of the room to the other.

In one corner of the hall, a quintet of musicians play a lively summer air though they do not attempt to compete with tha babble of voices as the guests of Lord Telumehtar mingle.

The banquet hall next door is open for all to enter and taste the various foods that have been submitted for the prize offered during the festival. The aromas smell delicious as they drift out into the main hall, but are hardly overpowering thanks to the fresh air.

Resplendent in a gleaming white cloak that no doubt some squire sweated over to get so brilliantly clean, High Guardsman Menelglir enters, pausing a moment in the room to get his bearings.

Looking like he is ready for a parade, Indoron appears at Menelglir's side. The captain calls to the guardsman in a dignified tone, "Good evening and welcome, Lord Menelglir."

Fencrist Telumehtar enters the hall from the garden. This evening, he is wearing his very best uniform, manufactured by the finest hands in the White City. The leather is polished to a sheen and his medals glint in the light. On the Telumehtar scion's arm is a lovely woman who bears a remarkable resemblance to her escort. A lifetime of familiarity evident, the two exchange whispers as they take a turn around the hall.

"Good evening to you, Hir," Menelglir answers, surveying the room and then looking at Indoron again. "Quite the turnout."

"Such festivals always bring out high society. Such affairs are not often seen with more pressing matters near at hand." Indoron nods to other guests entering behind Menelglir and then says to the knight, "Are you here in the city with the young prince's company?"

Fencrist and the lady on his arm cross the hall. The Hostman notices his father and Menelglir conversing and he watches them, attempting to read their words from afar.

"Quite," Menelglir answers, rather noncommitally. "The young prince is here, of course, yet it is always for him that books are a stronger lure than the company of high society. So. We shall see."

Indoron ponders this answer for a moment and then nods. "I see. He addressed me briefly a few days ago regarding the upcoming council. He asked that I consider his words when the time comes for him to speak."

Fencrist is pulled away from his attempt at lipreading and is introduced to a someone. Feigning interest, he listens as a long-winded old woman goes on about something to do with changing Lord Boromir's nappys when he was a wee lad, hardly a story of a great captain that Fencrist would like to hear.

"Oh? Do tell. What will his words be?" the Guardsman asks. He glances about the room. "Your son, it seems, it much oppressed this evening."

"That's just it, he did not say. Whatever his words will be, they will be for all at the council." Indoron looks over at Menelglir and adds, "Not as much as past times. No doubt he will grow stronger because of it."

Giving his best smile, Fencrist makes polite excuses and moves on, leading the lady on his arm away. After the old woman and her equally old escort are surely out of earshot, the male Telumehtar whispers something and gets a shrug in reply.

"Ah, then we all must wait to hear his words. One wonders what they might be---he is ever full of surprises," Menelglir replies.

"As for your son...I suppose so, yes. Never thought that talk of babies feeding and diapering habits was a routine to make one stronger."

Indoron shrugs. "Well, I would not have called talk of such things a form of oppression." A passing servant has a tray of drinks and the captain stops the man to fetch one. The servant offers one to Menelglir as Indoron asks, "Will you have any words for the council, Lord Guardsman?"

"No, it is not my duty to speak to such gatherings--I am there to guard the young prince," Menelglir says with a shake of his head. "Yourself?"

Fencrist and the lovely woman on his arm, who bears a remarkable resemblance to her escort, arrive at the hall's entrance. While Indoron continues to converse with Menelglir, the young Telumehtars take Indoron's place and greet newly arrived guests.

Indoron considers as he takes a drink of his drink and then he replies, "I'm sure something will come to mind depending on what is offered by others. No doubt proposals will be proposed that will require questions and answers. The young prince's words I am most interested in hearing. No doubt they will be of starlore."

"No doubt." Menelglir considers Fencrist and the young woman on his arm a moment. "Is that, by chance, your daughter?"

"Indeed, my elder child." Indoron looks over at the fine, handsome lady beside her brother with pride. "Inzilabeth is a fine scholar of languages and quite handy with the needle."

Fencrist and Inzilabeth take advantage in a lull of arriving guests and step over to where Indoron and Menelglir are conversing. "Good evening, my lords. Discussing the council already, no doubt?"

"Discussing the council, of course," Menelglir nods. "What, in your estimation, will be their point of view?"

"It is said the council is to discuss Tolcrist and Andrast. I'm sure we'll hear all about how to take back Gondor's lost lands." Indoron drinks some more of his drink and then flags down another servant to give up his empty goblet.

With neither fanfare nor entourage, Lady Bragollach arrives.

Clad in sable and burgundy, her gown is fashioned to present a bud silhouette; the waistline empire; her neckline high and severe about her neck. She lacks adornments beyond her dress, her hair drifting down her shoulders, straight and flat.

Hands clasped before her, she hesitates a moment at the threshold, eyes running over the attendees, before making an idle pace towards the lord of the manor, smiles and kind greetings offered as she passes by familiar faces.

"Gondor's lost lands? You mean, the council isn't to discuss," the young Telumehtar makes sure no one is overhearing, "the plague?" Fencrist notices Lady Bragollach's arrival and turns back to Indoron for a reaction.

"Plague? No, not plague," Menelglir answers. "THere is none spreading, unless you have word of a sickness that has not reached my ears."

"Past events may be discussed if threats to the realm are considered in general. Who can say?"

Indoron turns then to see whom has arrived. Upon seeing Lady Bragollach, he turns to the others present and excuses himself before meeting the newly arrived guest.

There is a formal bow and then Indoron speaks warmly, "Good evening and welcome, most welcome. You are looking very well, my lady."

Gweneth returns the bow with a slight curtsey, "Good evening, Lord Telumehtar." She motions with a nod to Fencrist and Menelglir, "I have taken you from your guests and family. Let us return and allow you to be the good host?"

"And too, what is the topic of the night? Figs? I heard there is to be a bumper crop this year. The bakeries are nearly beside themselves in glee."

Fencrist shakes his head. "I have not heard anything. I had only my guesses for what may be discussed. It would appear I am wrong."

"It could be," Menelglir shrugs to Fencrist, then affords Gweneth a bow. "Figs, you say. Not peaches?"

Indoron laughs. "I am looking forward helping judge which dish submitted shall be the winner. None though to my knowledge have figs included. An obvious oversight on all the cooks' parts."

'Quite so,' comes her reply.

As they approach the pair, Gweneth comments quietly, "A fair busier than my last visit, though I see the minstrels are the same," her words die off as she smiles for Fencrist, 'Master Fencrist, you are looking well. And this, who is your lovely escort?' And the same for Meneglir, a smile and greeting, 'Sir Telpekhor. It has been some time. Your family's lady is well I hope? I have not seen her for some time. And so too, I hope the same can be said for your own family.'

"Thank you, m'lady," Menelglir says with a nod to Gweneth. "Calenloth is well, if busy with her duties at the healers. And your family?"

Fencrist and Inzilabeth, whom Fencrist is escorting this evening, bow and curtsey gracefully to Gweneth as she approaches. As he rises, he returns the smile.

"Thank you for noticing, my lady. And this is Inzilabeth Telumehtar, my sister. She has been kind enough to grace my arm with her presence this evening."

And Indoron plays his part in the introduction with, "I do not think you've ever formally met my son and daughter, have you, my lady?" To his offspring, the captain motions to Gweneth and says, "This is of course Lady Bragollach. Her house has sponsored one of the dishes that will be judged soon."

"Formerly? No."

Gweneth nods to each, "A pleasure." And for Menelglir she replies, cooly, "They are well and as they ever are." A inhalation, or sigh, and she looks back to Inzilabeth, her hand reaching out to touch the arm of the older woman, "Your dress is beautiful. We shall speak later of your seamstress."

"But enough of that. I have barged enough into this scene, what was the conversation of the night. I've investigated the possibility of it being about the fig crop, but apparently," a wry glance to Indoron, "That is not the case."

Fencrist replies. "My lady, I believe theories on what will be discussed at the council were being offered. I would appear my own idea is outlandish. But I fear the prevailing consensus is equally unpleasant."

"The topic, if you will, was the reclamation of land still held by the Pretender--or so it is assumed that the council will be on," Menelglir answers. "But you will excuse me, as I have a duty to the young prince this evening and must attend to him now."

"The council has much to discuss. There are the invaders to the west, but too, the shipping lanes are rife with danger once more. Rumors of the ascending of new powers in Harad along with the lost ships to give them credence," Gweneth adds.

"But I am curious what opinion could be so bold as to be outlandish. Please share it once more?"

Indoron nods at his son, but then Menelglir speaks of other appointments and the captain nods. "Good of you to come by this evening. We will meet again soon, I'm sure."

Lord Telumehtar then adds after the High Guardsman's departure, "But who can say? Perhaps Lord Denethor has other matters in mind? There has been no official agenda drawn up as far as I know. Anything at this point really is speculation."

Fencrist nods at his father's words. "Yes, my lady. I was only speculating on past events, the rumors of poison and such. But it would appear these other matters have become paramount. As I said though, I fear they are equally perilous."

Gweneth's brow knits, "I have attended several High Councils before in the company of my mother. It is rare for Denethor to call for one, and rarer still to offer a set agenda. More like, the agenda is implied." She begins to nod, contemplating her words, "A way to measure the response of his fiefs and their lords. Certainly, the Lord Steward has an agenda and a desired outcome. There can be no doubt of that."

Indoron listens and ponders Gweneth's words as she speaks. "The southern and western fiefs will carry the most weight in that case, being the closest to the objectives." He looks to Gweneth, "I am mostly interested in what suggestions will be offered to reach those objectives. The young prince spoke of his message and hoping I would have ears to hear."

"Lord Denethor's fiefs and their lords," Fencrist repeats. He drops the volume of his voice. "Could this council have something to do with the navy affair I have heard of?"

"Navy affair?" Gweneth asks, interest piqued.

Stepping into the breach is Inzilabeth, who chines in with, "Yes, we have had news here in the city of late of the knight-admiral retiring and young Prince Elphir and Lord Arathis reaching some kind of agreement." The woman smiles and adds, "I know little of the sea and the fleets that sail upon her, but that is what we've heard. Perhaps my brother speaks of something different?"

Fencrist throws a glare at his sister, but then turns to Gwendion and nods. "Inzilabeth has it, my lady. I recall a conversation between myself and Lord Nimothan about what that agreement might mean."

Inzilabeth smiles sweetly at her little brother.

"At the least, it means the shipping lanes are no safer," quips the Bragollach. "And we all will suffer if we must turn to carts and oxen for moving that which we have grown to expect at market. Strawberries keep poorly on the roads."

"So, war in the west, war to the south, and on the east. A common theme. I wonder if Lord Isilrim and Prince Elphir mean to play at Thorongil's game and do to them what they mean to do to us."

Indoron nods at Gweneth and says quietly, "I hope it is that and not something else, something that I greatly fear. Pride may drive some to think frontal assault is the only way forward in dealing with enemy strongholds."

"Surely Amroth's memory is not so short," comes Gweneth's reply.
Fencrist stays silent for now, having nothing to offer as Lord and Lady discuss strategy.

Indoron can only shrug. "Let us hope. But those who are no longer in the Prince's Service may not have such wisdom."

A glance around, "My cousin serves the Prince," Gweneth then shakes her head, "Though he seems not here. Perhaps still in Belfalas. He is a dove and of some note. Perhaps his voice will be heard this time around. If not, well, Gondor has not so many young sons," she says, eyes falling on Fencrist.

"Dark tidings for dark times. Let us hope for better ones ahead."

Once again it is Inzilabeth who steps in and she calls to Gweneth. "Lady Bragollach, perhaps you'd care to join me while I freshen up. Then, I believe, my father is due to sample the submitted dishes himself and consult with his fellow judges before deciding the winner. Will you join me?"

Fencrist has met Gweneth's eyes and he nods. "All the more reason to make sure the final victory is Gondor's."

"To make sure. If only such a thing was possible."

With that, Gweneth smiles to Inzilabeth, "Of course. Gentlemen," she says, nodding to the pair of men and then is off alongside her, their voices soon being lost in the buzz of the hall.


SUBJECT: MT: Gondor Foodies Reception
         Hosted by INDORON, the upper crust of Gondor gathered during the summer festival in Minas Tirith to sample different delicious delights. Amidst the gathered gluttons, Indoron met with MENELGLIR and they were soon joined by FENCRIST and his sister Inzilabeth (NPC temped by Fencrist). The talk was of the upcoming council and its agenda. All conjectured that it would have to do with driving out the invaders in some fashion.
         Just then who should arrive but Lady GWENETH. Met by Indoron, who introduced her to his son and daughter, quintet continued the conversation, with Gweneth asking if all were discussing the excellent fig harvest. But soon the conversation turned back to the council. In the end, Menelglir departed to attend to the young prince elsewhere and Gweneth and Inzilabeth retreated to freshen up before the winner of the contest was announced...

         It was a tie between the main course of Bragollach Quail Knots and Lady Tathar's dessert of Willow Tree Walnut Cookies!

SUBJECT: MT Foodies Contest Winners!
Bragollach Quail Knots
         A bed of long grain rice, steaming, sets the foundation. Nestled in a depression of the rice is a stuffing of fried pancetta, onions and zest of lemon. Small springs of thyme and the deep aroma of garlic waft from the mixture. Sitting upon the rice, laid out in a circle around the stuffing, a half dozen quail knots, baked and glistening with a honey glaze. Around the rice, au juice with roasted cranberries and grapes, surround the meal. A light white wine is served along it, sweet and delicate.

Lady Tathar's Willow Tree Walnut Cookies
         The cookies are thin and round, crisped brown at the edges and pale in the center. They are buttery, like shortbread, with a candied cherry atop half a walnut on top. The cookie itself tastes faintly of toasted nuts with a hint of cherry.

Date added: 2014-04-02 19:55:45    Hits: 87
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