Elendor
Calardan the Dark
Strange tidings in Dol Amroth as Knight-Marshall Calardan reports of the rescue of hostages
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Dol Amroth
Description:
Dol Amroth: Prince's Castle - Throne Room
A cavernous room of icy marble yawns about you. The ceiling seems impossibly high--though the chamber's width is not exceptional--supported at regular lengths by thin spindles of smooth, undecorated stone. Indeed, the only color in the room itself is a slash of porphyry that runs arrow-straight westward to a set of steps that radiate outward from a tall dais, upon which rests the Marble Throne itself.
Much of the room is lost to the shadows of evening, for neither lamp nor torch can hope to banish the gloom from all corners of such a vast chamber. The purple-carpeted path towards the dais and throne is lit well-enough, though, by gently-glowing lamps hung from the columns that support the distant ceiling. The dais itself is lit by star- and moonglow from the windows upon the west behind it. The windows face onto a landscape of fog and incandescence beyond, with the black shape of Tirith Aear looming in the distance, its top flashing out a beacon of light at intervals that warns approaching ships of the dangers surrounding Dol Amroth's promontory.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
The day draws long, the shadows creeping steadily across the floors of marble while the gilded lamps, freshly lit, cast their own dancing light upon the walls. There are few now as the day nears its end, and long has the Prince of Dol Amroth sat to hear the words of those who have come. If there is tiredness behind his eyes he shows it not as each tale and request is brought to his ears fresh.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir, dressed in his best blue tabard, stands waiting to be called. He is carrying a bag slung over one shoulder, and has obviously done his best to slick his unruly hair down.
Not amongst those waiting to petition the Prince, yet nonetheless turned out in the audience, Menelglir sits, attentive to all that transpires. His armor and tabard are polished and fresh.
[Galadhechil(#12253)]
Galadhechil is one who has arrived to petition the Prince. Come out in his very best finery, man stands at ease and pays little attention to those ahead of him. Their affairs are their own.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"Conalmir Tarikhor," comes the next name, almost an accusation in the calling from the herald, "Squire of Blue to the Swan Knights and to their Prince." Imrahil's eyes find the Squire and hold them in their gaze a moment, the ever grey of nobility mixed with something found in but few men - wisdom, before he motions for the squire to approach.
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul stands in a place of readiness where he can survey all who are present. As a knight-officer, his is a place of honor in the court of the prince and he wears the regalia of his office, the compass of the knight-admiral. As Conalmir is called, he looks up.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conal swallows as he meets Imrahil's eyes, but his gaze is level and unwavering. He comes forward, kneeling. "My lord," he says, "Before I say more, I wish to assure you of my loyalty and that of my family. I greatly regret I cannot say the same of all my house."
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"Then spend little time on it Squire, no more than has already been said," Imrahil replies, his hand raised to slow the protests of loyalty, "It benefits you little to announce one loyalty greater than another owed. Yours to me is known and well served thus far and more expected for many years to come," his words are fair but there is no smile with them.
"There is much weight left on you for the words yet to come though. This I can see clearly."
"Come and speak freely of them."
[Conalmir(#31396)] The squire bows his head under Imrahil's words. "Yes, my lord." A moment later, he twists to bring the bag down, holding it in his hands in front of himself. "Sir... you have heard of the events on Tolcrist - and of the part played by my grandfather, the steward?"
Without waiting for a reply - and truly, none was needed - he goes on. "Grandfather left these to me, and I know not what to do." He opens the bag, bringing out and setting gently before him - speaking the name of each as he sets it out: "The Stone Key marking the True Steward of Tolcrist the Compass of Elbereth the Mariner, and the Helm of Balhrion."
[Gwendion(#24427)]
Imrahil's hand reaches towards the items, then pauses, "May I?"
[Conalmir(#31396)] "Yes, my lord," Conalmir assents.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
The Prince takes up the compass first, turning it in his hand, "A curious collection of relics. Have any others been told of these? And your grandfather, did he speak any words of them? How they came to be in his possession?" The Prince looks to the others in the room, his questions seemingly also directed to them.
[Galadhechil(#12253)]
To the prince's question, Galadhechil answers only with a shrug of his shoulders.
[Conalmir(#31396)] "I know not, my lord," Conalmir answers. "The Stone Key was his by right I believe, as Steward. The others..." He shrugs, looking at the heirlooms of his house. "The compass - Lady Elbereth was Sailing Master for her brother, who was Lord Camran. All I can think is that Lord (whasisname)," the young man's voice goes very flat and expressionless, "Chose not to take them when he left for Minas Tirith."
It seems many houses are experiencing such changes...and turmoil, perhaps," Menelglir says quietly, to himself no doubt.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
Setting down the compass, it is then the key Imrahil takes up next, "This heirloom concerns me most. Prophecy is entwined in it as it was passed to you and Tolcrist is of too great a value to Gondor to allow its fate to be idle and left without concern."
"This, if you will part with it, I shall take from you and find its origin, its worth, and the meaning behind the words given with it. Perhaps, it is Tarikhor's by right and then it shall be returned. If your Lord has knowledge on it, have him send it to me. But for now, I wish it to stay with me."
[Conalmir(#31396)] There is reluctance in the squire's gaze that clings to the key. But he says nothing more than, "Yes, my lord."
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul watches this handing over of the stone key with interest. The admira absently reaches over the scratch his left arm with his right and he is startled for a moment as he tries to find his missing arm.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"As to the other items, I would say to take them to Minas Tirith, to the halls of the Academy of Ostoher, and to the libraries of your own family to see if naught can be found of those two items. They seem a fine make and perhaps are heirlooms of quality, without a tale, fair or fell, behind them. But I have found little that is kept from generation to generation in my lands to be without such. Considering the," the slightest of pauses, "Source of the items, I would be more diligent in such a search. Do this as you have time from your duties and the leave of your Knight, or find another in your place. This is what I would recommend to you, but, they are yours, gifted by your grandfather. If their stories concern you not, do with them as you wish though that path is not one I would advise." As for the key, it disappears is it is tucked within the belt of the Prince.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir watches the key vanish in silence, before taking up the remaining two items. "Yes, my lord," he says once more, standing and bowing, before beginning to move away. His eyes land on Elusul as he turns.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
The Prince then looks to the Herald, who glances to his ledger, "Galadhechil... uh... my apologies, the family name has been smudged..." he says, with a sheepish look of apology for the Prince. "Perhaps, there is but one who has come for the Prince by that name?"
As he does, Imrahil looks to Menelglir, beckoning him closer.
"My lord?" Menelglir says, hastening to move closer at the Prince's gesture. "The Sailing Master Galadhechil is here, if that is the man you seek?"
[Gwendion(#24427)]
The Prince's voice is lower as he waits for whichever Galadhechil will step before him, and continues, "He shall come if he is here but I would speak some more on your words after this if you have the time."
[Galadhechil(#12253)]
Galadhechil nods gravely at Conalmir as the squire moves away. The line of petitioners advances and Galad steps forward to find himself... at the head. His name called, Galadhechil takes a step closer and bows deeply.
"M'lord, your herald is correct and it is not omission or error on his part. I have no family name because I have no family. I have not even the name of a generous foster."
"Of course, my lord," replies Menelglir, bowing ere he steps politely to one side so as to not block conversation between Galadhechil and Prince.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
The Prince nods, "A sad tale, indeed, young Galadhechil. But let us not dwell on it, unless it is the focus of our meeting now. What petition do you bring before Amroth this day?"
[Galadhechil(#12253)]
Galadhechil drops his head forward in a gesture of thanks to the Prince. Looking up again, he answers. "M'lord, your Knight-Admiral has discharged me from his service at my request so that I might seek a different path. On his advice, I am here before you now to ask that you take me into your service as a man-at-arms. I have not the skill with weapons that I should. But I am strong and willing."
[Gwendion(#24427)]
Imrahil's brow tightens, his hands folding in his lap as he leans back in his throne, "You have the spirit of youth, but not the years. It is not an easy path to be such with your peers staring a score of years behind you. Skills will come slower to you, knowledge given will be more flighty than kept. What causes you to choose such a path?"
[Galadhechil(#12253)]
Galadhechil closes his eyes with a pained expression on his face as memories come to mind. They last only a moment and so. After they pass, Galadhechil is himself again and answers. "M'lord, I have reached my end. No longer can I bear the burden of comrades' deaths when that burden is squarely on my shoulders. The yoke of responsiblity grows heavy, m'lord. I want to fight, but on the field where a mistake will only cost my life."
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul steps forward at this and says in support of his former subordinate, "Galadhechil served me well as sailing master. He has been a sailor greatly esteemed by his peers in the Swanfleet. Many years has he spent fighting the Corsairs by land and sea. I have no doubt, my lord, that Galadhechil will acquit himself well in the men-at-arms of Dol Amroth."
"If you will permit me to speak, my lord?" Menelglir interjects after the Admiral steps forward.
"The men and the ship that were lost were my responsibility, sir."
"At the time, that is," Menelglir says.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
A brow is raised for Menelglir's admission, but his attention is given to the knight for but that moment before acknowledging his Admiral and looking once more to Galadhechil. "I fear there is no such field of battle to be found, Galadhechil. For your sword shall always hold the responsibility of the brother-at-arms on your sides and to the families that have but you to stand as a wall between them and their ends by the hands of the evils of this world. In battle, it is the most fresh of recruits that can defend the life of a Captain, or a Prince. So too, is it their responsibilities to defend the lives of the newest recruits. All men find their lives filled with mistakes, and often in these times they cost us the most precious of currencies. But it is only you if you can learn from such mistakes or find only regret in them."
"Take a fortnight and think long and hard on this. If you think you are the former sort of man, speak to my Captain, Gwendion, and he shall induct you. If not, find peace elsewhere for that of which you speak now, I have not and so cannot give it."
[Galadhechil(#12253)] The Prince's words weigh heavy in Galadhechil's mind and on his face. But he eventually nods in agreement. "M'lord, your words carry wisdom and they temper my heart on this matter... for the moment. I will do as you say and find my mind. Thank you for your counsel m'lord."
Galadhechil bows and then turns away, taking his leave.
[Calardan(#30834)]
The yawning and subdued expanse within which the Prince's throne is set is breached by the opening of its grand doorways and in, unheralded, enters the Knight-Marshall. A battle is fought between opposites in his carriage, as he approaches in silence. While he stands tall and proud with eyes glittering against the icy marble of the throne room, his appearance is unkempt, his hair tangled and dirty, his beard creeping unabated about his throat and cheeks.
A looming stride carries him not to the place of esteem aside his fellow officers but in line, too a supplicant of the Prince of Amroth.
[Elusul(#30120)]
As Galadhechil goes away, Elusul turns to survey his colleague who comes forward as supplicant.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
The herald looks to the Prince, "The last listed for the day was Galadhechil and it seems there is one last supplicant for you, my Prince."
"And I know him well," Imrahil agrees.
"Come Lord Calardan and bring to me your petition. Though the day grows late, I am eager to hear your words."
Menelglir, seemingly, is about to speak, starting even, low--"My lord..." But these words he bites off sharply upon the Marshall's entrance.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir, heading out, halts at the entrance of the Knight-Marshall, and turns, pausing to see what might transpire.
[Calardan(#30834)]
"Forgive me, my Prince," says the Hlorithain Knight, bringing himself to a knee, head downturned, before rising back to his full height. "Forgive me for my instrusion and for what I must ask you to do now, in thine own Court."
"Hir Menelglir, Hir Elusul, the Squire Conalmir and the sailor Galadhechil may stay but I ask you, for their own benefit, that you dismiss the rest."
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"A queer request in a setting such as this."
The Prince looks to the others in the room and motions, "Friends, let us call the day a finished one and take up our duties once more on the morrow." The herald pauses but the Prince motions for him to leave as well. It is a few moments before the room is empty save for the Swan.
"You hold my interest keenly as any edge to a blade. Hold your tongue no longer and speak."
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan is deferent, but his request is not one asked for lightly. And thus, he waits patiently before all others have left the Prince's hall.
His eyes trail back to check, then he speaks.
"My Prince. I wish not to belabour the point, so I shall be frank. Upon an island at sea was my daughter taken from the isle of Tolcrist along with the Knight Arashen. The Lady Laeraelin and I, with the help of the Squire Lominzil and the healer Calenloth, bartered there with the usurper Ar-Gimilkhor. Our case was..." he pauses here, mincing his words carefully, "Stated, but not well. And in return for the safety of our children, we were presented a gift."
"A gold florin, Hir Menelglir," he requests of the Knight.
"A gold florin, sir?" Menelglir--puzzled for a second--then blinks, but pulls a gold florin out of the bag at his waist, grimly handing it toward the Knight-Marshall.
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul frowns at some unseen thing as he listens to Calardan's account and request for a gold coin. The knight-admiral waits to see what what will come next.
[Conalmir(#31396)] The squire, standing at the back of the room, steps forward lightly suddenly intent.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
A glance of question to Elusul from the Prince, perhaps he has some knowledge hidden of this, but seeing the same anticipation, Imrahil looks on at the Marshall.
[Calardan(#30834)]
The florin is placed in the Hlorithain's hand and he regards it for a moment of two, before closing his grip around the item. He looks up.
And the strangest thing happens.
A darkness creeps across the room, a deep midnight shade approaching with a swiftness that threatens to devour all that is bright. Alone upon his throne, Imrahil remains in the light, his vision unclouded. And in his Knight-Marshall he sees something of a man, but something else too...
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul's voice calls out in horror, "The mark of the Nameless One that you all bear? Is this some devilry caused by it?!"
[Conalmir(#31396)] There is a hiss of a sword being drawn, and from behind, feet coming forward. But no blow is struck... not yet.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
Imrahil jumps to his feet, his hand at his blade, voice booming through the shadows, "What has been brought into my home?! What is this? Speak now, Calardan!"
"Pray not be treachery. Too much of that have we seen. But if that is what you bring, we shall meet it."
"Sir Calardan!" Menelglir says, his voice sounding somehow hollow in the darkness that has filled the room, though his tone is sharp. Two steps carry the young knight forward, so that he stands in front of the Knight Marshall, blocking his way to the Prince, left hand out as if to push Calardan back--though not touching him--right hand drawing sword from scabbard.
"Sir Calardan!" he says in a sharp voice once more. "Give me that coin."
[Calardan(#30834)]
Two coal-black eyes are upon Imrahil: dark, unflinching eyes burning with the fires of hatred and disease and death. The Knight-Marshall commands not his sword to his hand but simply this gaze and it is heavy and foul.
But what is this?
There are those words: "Sir Calardan, Sir Calardan."
And lastly, "Give me that coin."
The Hlorithain unfolds his palm and looks at the gold within. Then slowly, strugglingly, he passes the coin back to Hir Menelglir.
The darkness passes. The Marshall collapses to his knees, choking for air.
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul immediately comes forward and with his only hand, he reaches to pull up Calardan's sleeve.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir stands behind the marshall, his sword in his hand there is a hard look on his face.
"My lord, what sorcery is this?" Menelglir says, tucking the gold florin away with haste yet leaving his sword unsheathed. His eyes stray not from the Marshall.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"Elusul, take his weapons, Menelglir, keep your blade at the ready and Conal... There is witchery afoot here. Calardan must be bound and held under lock and key at once. Healers from the Houses should be called as well as our scholars," Imrahil commands, his face turning pale at this sickness befalling his Marshall.
His jaw works, "We must find the cause and cure of this. And if others suffer from it. But not here, not so exposed as we are now. This is the power of that which that we cannot underestimate. I know not of what sort it is, but it is true and fell."
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir looks sick. As if someone has struck him in the belly. But he stands firm, his sword at the ready.
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan is raised to his feet by the Knight-Admiral, but still he is unsteady and teetering. The voices are but a buzzing in his head.
He can only beseech them, "See to my daughter."
"Hir, if I may?" Menelglir says, not turning from the Marshall, blade at the ready. "This sorcery--it is the result of a brand or tatoo placed upon the arms of those who negotiated for the release of the hostages. The Marshall. His daughter. Sir Arashen, Lady Laeraelin. Squire Lominzil...and..." he sighs, "Lady Calenloth. But I have not seen such darkness result from it until now."
[Conalmir(#31396)] "Sir...My lord," Conalmir speaks up, his face still sick-looking. "I - Squire Lominzil spoke with me, asking me..." He swallows. "Telling me of this brand, and asking me to slay him did I see any hint of darkness in him. I swore this but I have not seen any signs of such so far."
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul catches sight of what he seeks as he takes away Calardan's weapons.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
Imrahil lets out a great sigh.
"At least there is the influence of darkness upon them, if this brand is the cause. Elusul, take also his chain and steed that sits upon his breast and keep it safe."
"As for the others, I... I do not know. There names are known to me and their hearts. But after this... we must keep watch on them and restrict their duties until the nature of this curse is made known to us."
"Ever shorter is the list of those that we can look on without caution. Ever shorter."
"Yes, Lord," Menelglir says obediently, though there is misery in his tone, as well. "Conalmir, fetch rope to bind him, and then we will escort him to the cells. I am sorry, Hir Calardan...truly I am."
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul takes off the chain of the office of Marshal and loops it around his neck for safekeeping. "The Lady Calenloth resides in the house of the Isilrim in White Town. But she along with Arashen and others have gone to Pinneth Gelin to attend to the business of the Telpekhori. If they have returned, I know not. Should I sent out messengers?" He looks at the prince questioningly.
[Niphredil(#10854)]
Like a fell spirit -- or a blessed one -- a figure approaches from behind the newly-arrived Knight-Herald, summoned as if by mention.
Stepping closer into the hall, Niphredil's hand rises to her mouth as she surveys the scene -- and her father fallen to his knees before the Prince, as though in pain. There her palm obstructs sound from bursting from her lips, sound which may have interrupted the Prince's speech.
Her steps quicken with a sudden bolt as she rounds the Knight before her, suddenly -- from a walk to a jog. And from the back of her throat, a simple plea of: "No -- pa."
[Conalmir(#31396)] "Yes, sir." Conalmir, face set and stiff, puts up his sword, and leaves. Back again soon, with rope required, he bows to the Knight Marshall, "Sir.. forgive me." He holds out the rope to Sir Menelglir. He looks up as Niphredil arrives, but can do no more than watch her, stricken.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"Dear lady, step no closer to your father!" Imrahil calls out, motioning to the Knight, "Detain her if you must. Ah, should have I not taken the man's offer to be a man-at-arms. Conalmir, keep her at bay!"
Confusion ever increasing in the room, the Prince answers Elusul, "Send yourself, with four of my Guard once this is dealt with," he says with a nod. Stepping from the dais, Imrahil calls for more of his men-at-arms to come to the room, "Foul business."
"Here," Meneglir says, sheathing his blade and reaching for the rope. "Your pardon, Hir," he says, apologizing even as attempts to bind Calardan's hands. He moves quickly, unless interfered wtih.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir moves to stand between Calardan and Niphredil. "I beg you, Lady," he says softly. "Please, come no nearer."
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan does not resist, even as his vision and hearing sharpen.
"Tell her Calavorn. It must be known the House hath passed to him before this event. Tell my daughter that name," says the bounded Knight.
He seems to hear his daughter's call but thinks it only a happy dream.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
Imrahil watches each man and woman in the room intently, eyes shifting from one to the other. "For now, there is too much unknown and danger is clear and present to us all. I will find my sister and see if she has any guidance on this. In the mean, if he has his wits about him, Calardan may roam with escort, but keep him bound until that time."
"Are my commands clear?" he asks of all in the room.
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul has gathered four men-at-arms and he nods to the prince. "We will seek out the others and bring them."
[Niphredil(#10854)]
Her running steps are halted with the Prince's words -- Niphredil jerks back, as if stung, and holds her hands high, palms outward, in surrender. A short distance she has travelled, yet she breathes as quickly and shallowly as though it were miles. Backward steps seek to retract her from her father, her feet falling to the marble floor with the grace of lead.
She watches Menelglir bind the Knight-Marshall's hands -- the muscles in her cheeks tense with the effort of silence. Jaw grinding, eyes burning, she looks to Conalmir -- then back again.
Brows pucker with hope at hearing her father's voice -- then the content brings a deeper pain across her features, an understanding that, for a moment, renders all emotion vulnerable upon her face. "Calavorn." Her backward steps become forward steps and her hand presses to her stomach for stability.
Niphredil Hlorithain leaves the great hall.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
A motion to Elusul from the Prince, "Send a man to follow her."
[Conalmir(#31396)] "Yes, my lord," Conalmir answers, not looking away from Niphredil. There is - can it be pity in his eyes? Surely not. But understanding.
"She will be told, Hir," Menelglir says in quiet answer to the Marshall. "And we will see to her safety." He looks to the Prince, nodding as he replies. "Yes, lord, quite clear." And then once more to Calardan, helping the man get to his feet and to walk if need be, "Come with me, Hir."
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul nods to the prince once more. "I will see to her as well. All who bear the mark will be found, all who bear the mark will be watched."
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"Excellent Admiral."
"Menelglir, you and Conalmir may escort the Mar... Lord Calardan to his chambers and post a guard -inside- the room. Find any coins of gold or metal of any sort and have it taken from his room. And, Menelglir, join me for a moment," the Prince says, moving to the arch.
[Conalmir(#31396)] A moment longer watching the lady as she leaves, and then Conalmir turns in silence, to stand beside Calardan, offering whatever assistance the man might need - if any.
"Yes, lord," Menelglir says, indicating for Conalmir to guard Calardan while the Silver Knight hurries over to the Prince. "How may I serve you, lord?"
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan allows himself to be carried off.
[<#24427>] The Prince's voice falls to a whisper, "Your blade, Knight, hand it to me."
"My lord?" Menelglir, talking quietly with the Prince by the arch, blinks in some confusion. He draws his blade and hands it to Imrahil, hilt first.
[<#24427>] Imrahil's hand takes up Menelglir's blade, "Since my awaking, your name has been as steady for Amroth and for Gondor as any other. Even know, my Marshall stands corrupted, and I am at a loss truly for it. But my eye is no so blind as to ignore those that stand true and in you I have seen it, Menelglir."
The Prince's other hand wraps around the blade, nearest the hilt, and with the quickest motion slides his palm against the blade. A red smear is left upon it as he pulls his hand from it. "Your blade now carries the blood of Imrazor upon it. As such, you are tasked to protect that which you serve until your dying breath and beyond. Men such as yourself are numbered as my High Guard and serve to protect my self and my family as well as Belfalas and Gondor." He holds the blade back out to Menelglir to take, "There is no oath for this rank. Nor it is a position you can accept or deny. Now, it is your duty."
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul witnesses this occasion from afar and then he turns and waves his only hand to the men-at-arms with him to follow him out in pursuit of Niphredil and the others.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir glances over at where the young knight and the Prince confer.
A quiet stillness overtakes Menelglir, who stands, not daring to move or even to blink as the Prince draws his own blood upon the Knight's sword. For what must seem like long moments, he says nothing at all.
Then, he finds his voice, but it is low and choked with emotion. "I hear, my lord, and I obey." He takes the sword, not returning it to its sheath, and waits only for the Prince's departure.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
A nod from the Prince. Then he calls to Elusul, "Admiral, count Menelglir among the High-Guard you take to the Telpekhori home."
"Now, I am off to my sister. Alert me if there is news." With that, the Prince disappears under the arch, leaving the rest to their work and their fate.
A cavernous room of icy marble yawns about you. The ceiling seems impossibly high--though the chamber's width is not exceptional--supported at regular lengths by thin spindles of smooth, undecorated stone. Indeed, the only color in the room itself is a slash of porphyry that runs arrow-straight westward to a set of steps that radiate outward from a tall dais, upon which rests the Marble Throne itself.
Much of the room is lost to the shadows of evening, for neither lamp nor torch can hope to banish the gloom from all corners of such a vast chamber. The purple-carpeted path towards the dais and throne is lit well-enough, though, by gently-glowing lamps hung from the columns that support the distant ceiling. The dais itself is lit by star- and moonglow from the windows upon the west behind it. The windows face onto a landscape of fog and incandescence beyond, with the black shape of Tirith Aear looming in the distance, its top flashing out a beacon of light at intervals that warns approaching ships of the dangers surrounding Dol Amroth's promontory.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
The day draws long, the shadows creeping steadily across the floors of marble while the gilded lamps, freshly lit, cast their own dancing light upon the walls. There are few now as the day nears its end, and long has the Prince of Dol Amroth sat to hear the words of those who have come. If there is tiredness behind his eyes he shows it not as each tale and request is brought to his ears fresh.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir, dressed in his best blue tabard, stands waiting to be called. He is carrying a bag slung over one shoulder, and has obviously done his best to slick his unruly hair down.
Not amongst those waiting to petition the Prince, yet nonetheless turned out in the audience, Menelglir sits, attentive to all that transpires. His armor and tabard are polished and fresh.
[Galadhechil(#12253)]
Galadhechil is one who has arrived to petition the Prince. Come out in his very best finery, man stands at ease and pays little attention to those ahead of him. Their affairs are their own.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"Conalmir Tarikhor," comes the next name, almost an accusation in the calling from the herald, "Squire of Blue to the Swan Knights and to their Prince." Imrahil's eyes find the Squire and hold them in their gaze a moment, the ever grey of nobility mixed with something found in but few men - wisdom, before he motions for the squire to approach.
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul stands in a place of readiness where he can survey all who are present. As a knight-officer, his is a place of honor in the court of the prince and he wears the regalia of his office, the compass of the knight-admiral. As Conalmir is called, he looks up.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conal swallows as he meets Imrahil's eyes, but his gaze is level and unwavering. He comes forward, kneeling. "My lord," he says, "Before I say more, I wish to assure you of my loyalty and that of my family. I greatly regret I cannot say the same of all my house."
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"Then spend little time on it Squire, no more than has already been said," Imrahil replies, his hand raised to slow the protests of loyalty, "It benefits you little to announce one loyalty greater than another owed. Yours to me is known and well served thus far and more expected for many years to come," his words are fair but there is no smile with them.
"There is much weight left on you for the words yet to come though. This I can see clearly."
"Come and speak freely of them."
[Conalmir(#31396)] The squire bows his head under Imrahil's words. "Yes, my lord." A moment later, he twists to bring the bag down, holding it in his hands in front of himself. "Sir... you have heard of the events on Tolcrist - and of the part played by my grandfather, the steward?"
Without waiting for a reply - and truly, none was needed - he goes on. "Grandfather left these to me, and I know not what to do." He opens the bag, bringing out and setting gently before him - speaking the name of each as he sets it out: "The Stone Key marking the True Steward of Tolcrist the Compass of Elbereth the Mariner, and the Helm of Balhrion."
[Gwendion(#24427)]
Imrahil's hand reaches towards the items, then pauses, "May I?"
[Conalmir(#31396)] "Yes, my lord," Conalmir assents.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
The Prince takes up the compass first, turning it in his hand, "A curious collection of relics. Have any others been told of these? And your grandfather, did he speak any words of them? How they came to be in his possession?" The Prince looks to the others in the room, his questions seemingly also directed to them.
[Galadhechil(#12253)]
To the prince's question, Galadhechil answers only with a shrug of his shoulders.
[Conalmir(#31396)] "I know not, my lord," Conalmir answers. "The Stone Key was his by right I believe, as Steward. The others..." He shrugs, looking at the heirlooms of his house. "The compass - Lady Elbereth was Sailing Master for her brother, who was Lord Camran. All I can think is that Lord (whasisname)," the young man's voice goes very flat and expressionless, "Chose not to take them when he left for Minas Tirith."
It seems many houses are experiencing such changes...and turmoil, perhaps," Menelglir says quietly, to himself no doubt.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
Setting down the compass, it is then the key Imrahil takes up next, "This heirloom concerns me most. Prophecy is entwined in it as it was passed to you and Tolcrist is of too great a value to Gondor to allow its fate to be idle and left without concern."
"This, if you will part with it, I shall take from you and find its origin, its worth, and the meaning behind the words given with it. Perhaps, it is Tarikhor's by right and then it shall be returned. If your Lord has knowledge on it, have him send it to me. But for now, I wish it to stay with me."
[Conalmir(#31396)] There is reluctance in the squire's gaze that clings to the key. But he says nothing more than, "Yes, my lord."
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul watches this handing over of the stone key with interest. The admira absently reaches over the scratch his left arm with his right and he is startled for a moment as he tries to find his missing arm.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"As to the other items, I would say to take them to Minas Tirith, to the halls of the Academy of Ostoher, and to the libraries of your own family to see if naught can be found of those two items. They seem a fine make and perhaps are heirlooms of quality, without a tale, fair or fell, behind them. But I have found little that is kept from generation to generation in my lands to be without such. Considering the," the slightest of pauses, "Source of the items, I would be more diligent in such a search. Do this as you have time from your duties and the leave of your Knight, or find another in your place. This is what I would recommend to you, but, they are yours, gifted by your grandfather. If their stories concern you not, do with them as you wish though that path is not one I would advise." As for the key, it disappears is it is tucked within the belt of the Prince.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir watches the key vanish in silence, before taking up the remaining two items. "Yes, my lord," he says once more, standing and bowing, before beginning to move away. His eyes land on Elusul as he turns.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
The Prince then looks to the Herald, who glances to his ledger, "Galadhechil... uh... my apologies, the family name has been smudged..." he says, with a sheepish look of apology for the Prince. "Perhaps, there is but one who has come for the Prince by that name?"
As he does, Imrahil looks to Menelglir, beckoning him closer.
"My lord?" Menelglir says, hastening to move closer at the Prince's gesture. "The Sailing Master Galadhechil is here, if that is the man you seek?"
[Gwendion(#24427)]
The Prince's voice is lower as he waits for whichever Galadhechil will step before him, and continues, "He shall come if he is here but I would speak some more on your words after this if you have the time."
[Galadhechil(#12253)]
Galadhechil nods gravely at Conalmir as the squire moves away. The line of petitioners advances and Galad steps forward to find himself... at the head. His name called, Galadhechil takes a step closer and bows deeply.
"M'lord, your herald is correct and it is not omission or error on his part. I have no family name because I have no family. I have not even the name of a generous foster."
"Of course, my lord," replies Menelglir, bowing ere he steps politely to one side so as to not block conversation between Galadhechil and Prince.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
The Prince nods, "A sad tale, indeed, young Galadhechil. But let us not dwell on it, unless it is the focus of our meeting now. What petition do you bring before Amroth this day?"
[Galadhechil(#12253)]
Galadhechil drops his head forward in a gesture of thanks to the Prince. Looking up again, he answers. "M'lord, your Knight-Admiral has discharged me from his service at my request so that I might seek a different path. On his advice, I am here before you now to ask that you take me into your service as a man-at-arms. I have not the skill with weapons that I should. But I am strong and willing."
[Gwendion(#24427)]
Imrahil's brow tightens, his hands folding in his lap as he leans back in his throne, "You have the spirit of youth, but not the years. It is not an easy path to be such with your peers staring a score of years behind you. Skills will come slower to you, knowledge given will be more flighty than kept. What causes you to choose such a path?"
[Galadhechil(#12253)]
Galadhechil closes his eyes with a pained expression on his face as memories come to mind. They last only a moment and so. After they pass, Galadhechil is himself again and answers. "M'lord, I have reached my end. No longer can I bear the burden of comrades' deaths when that burden is squarely on my shoulders. The yoke of responsiblity grows heavy, m'lord. I want to fight, but on the field where a mistake will only cost my life."
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul steps forward at this and says in support of his former subordinate, "Galadhechil served me well as sailing master. He has been a sailor greatly esteemed by his peers in the Swanfleet. Many years has he spent fighting the Corsairs by land and sea. I have no doubt, my lord, that Galadhechil will acquit himself well in the men-at-arms of Dol Amroth."
"If you will permit me to speak, my lord?" Menelglir interjects after the Admiral steps forward.
"The men and the ship that were lost were my responsibility, sir."
"At the time, that is," Menelglir says.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
A brow is raised for Menelglir's admission, but his attention is given to the knight for but that moment before acknowledging his Admiral and looking once more to Galadhechil. "I fear there is no such field of battle to be found, Galadhechil. For your sword shall always hold the responsibility of the brother-at-arms on your sides and to the families that have but you to stand as a wall between them and their ends by the hands of the evils of this world. In battle, it is the most fresh of recruits that can defend the life of a Captain, or a Prince. So too, is it their responsibilities to defend the lives of the newest recruits. All men find their lives filled with mistakes, and often in these times they cost us the most precious of currencies. But it is only you if you can learn from such mistakes or find only regret in them."
"Take a fortnight and think long and hard on this. If you think you are the former sort of man, speak to my Captain, Gwendion, and he shall induct you. If not, find peace elsewhere for that of which you speak now, I have not and so cannot give it."
[Galadhechil(#12253)] The Prince's words weigh heavy in Galadhechil's mind and on his face. But he eventually nods in agreement. "M'lord, your words carry wisdom and they temper my heart on this matter... for the moment. I will do as you say and find my mind. Thank you for your counsel m'lord."
Galadhechil bows and then turns away, taking his leave.
[Calardan(#30834)]
The yawning and subdued expanse within which the Prince's throne is set is breached by the opening of its grand doorways and in, unheralded, enters the Knight-Marshall. A battle is fought between opposites in his carriage, as he approaches in silence. While he stands tall and proud with eyes glittering against the icy marble of the throne room, his appearance is unkempt, his hair tangled and dirty, his beard creeping unabated about his throat and cheeks.
A looming stride carries him not to the place of esteem aside his fellow officers but in line, too a supplicant of the Prince of Amroth.
[Elusul(#30120)]
As Galadhechil goes away, Elusul turns to survey his colleague who comes forward as supplicant.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
The herald looks to the Prince, "The last listed for the day was Galadhechil and it seems there is one last supplicant for you, my Prince."
"And I know him well," Imrahil agrees.
"Come Lord Calardan and bring to me your petition. Though the day grows late, I am eager to hear your words."
Menelglir, seemingly, is about to speak, starting even, low--"My lord..." But these words he bites off sharply upon the Marshall's entrance.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir, heading out, halts at the entrance of the Knight-Marshall, and turns, pausing to see what might transpire.
[Calardan(#30834)]
"Forgive me, my Prince," says the Hlorithain Knight, bringing himself to a knee, head downturned, before rising back to his full height. "Forgive me for my instrusion and for what I must ask you to do now, in thine own Court."
"Hir Menelglir, Hir Elusul, the Squire Conalmir and the sailor Galadhechil may stay but I ask you, for their own benefit, that you dismiss the rest."
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"A queer request in a setting such as this."
The Prince looks to the others in the room and motions, "Friends, let us call the day a finished one and take up our duties once more on the morrow." The herald pauses but the Prince motions for him to leave as well. It is a few moments before the room is empty save for the Swan.
"You hold my interest keenly as any edge to a blade. Hold your tongue no longer and speak."
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan is deferent, but his request is not one asked for lightly. And thus, he waits patiently before all others have left the Prince's hall.
His eyes trail back to check, then he speaks.
"My Prince. I wish not to belabour the point, so I shall be frank. Upon an island at sea was my daughter taken from the isle of Tolcrist along with the Knight Arashen. The Lady Laeraelin and I, with the help of the Squire Lominzil and the healer Calenloth, bartered there with the usurper Ar-Gimilkhor. Our case was..." he pauses here, mincing his words carefully, "Stated, but not well. And in return for the safety of our children, we were presented a gift."
"A gold florin, Hir Menelglir," he requests of the Knight.
"A gold florin, sir?" Menelglir--puzzled for a second--then blinks, but pulls a gold florin out of the bag at his waist, grimly handing it toward the Knight-Marshall.
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul frowns at some unseen thing as he listens to Calardan's account and request for a gold coin. The knight-admiral waits to see what what will come next.
[Conalmir(#31396)] The squire, standing at the back of the room, steps forward lightly suddenly intent.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
A glance of question to Elusul from the Prince, perhaps he has some knowledge hidden of this, but seeing the same anticipation, Imrahil looks on at the Marshall.
[Calardan(#30834)]
The florin is placed in the Hlorithain's hand and he regards it for a moment of two, before closing his grip around the item. He looks up.
And the strangest thing happens.
A darkness creeps across the room, a deep midnight shade approaching with a swiftness that threatens to devour all that is bright. Alone upon his throne, Imrahil remains in the light, his vision unclouded. And in his Knight-Marshall he sees something of a man, but something else too...
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul's voice calls out in horror, "The mark of the Nameless One that you all bear? Is this some devilry caused by it?!"
[Conalmir(#31396)] There is a hiss of a sword being drawn, and from behind, feet coming forward. But no blow is struck... not yet.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
Imrahil jumps to his feet, his hand at his blade, voice booming through the shadows, "What has been brought into my home?! What is this? Speak now, Calardan!"
"Pray not be treachery. Too much of that have we seen. But if that is what you bring, we shall meet it."
"Sir Calardan!" Menelglir says, his voice sounding somehow hollow in the darkness that has filled the room, though his tone is sharp. Two steps carry the young knight forward, so that he stands in front of the Knight Marshall, blocking his way to the Prince, left hand out as if to push Calardan back--though not touching him--right hand drawing sword from scabbard.
"Sir Calardan!" he says in a sharp voice once more. "Give me that coin."
[Calardan(#30834)]
Two coal-black eyes are upon Imrahil: dark, unflinching eyes burning with the fires of hatred and disease and death. The Knight-Marshall commands not his sword to his hand but simply this gaze and it is heavy and foul.
But what is this?
There are those words: "Sir Calardan, Sir Calardan."
And lastly, "Give me that coin."
The Hlorithain unfolds his palm and looks at the gold within. Then slowly, strugglingly, he passes the coin back to Hir Menelglir.
The darkness passes. The Marshall collapses to his knees, choking for air.
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul immediately comes forward and with his only hand, he reaches to pull up Calardan's sleeve.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir stands behind the marshall, his sword in his hand there is a hard look on his face.
"My lord, what sorcery is this?" Menelglir says, tucking the gold florin away with haste yet leaving his sword unsheathed. His eyes stray not from the Marshall.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"Elusul, take his weapons, Menelglir, keep your blade at the ready and Conal... There is witchery afoot here. Calardan must be bound and held under lock and key at once. Healers from the Houses should be called as well as our scholars," Imrahil commands, his face turning pale at this sickness befalling his Marshall.
His jaw works, "We must find the cause and cure of this. And if others suffer from it. But not here, not so exposed as we are now. This is the power of that which that we cannot underestimate. I know not of what sort it is, but it is true and fell."
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir looks sick. As if someone has struck him in the belly. But he stands firm, his sword at the ready.
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan is raised to his feet by the Knight-Admiral, but still he is unsteady and teetering. The voices are but a buzzing in his head.
He can only beseech them, "See to my daughter."
"Hir, if I may?" Menelglir says, not turning from the Marshall, blade at the ready. "This sorcery--it is the result of a brand or tatoo placed upon the arms of those who negotiated for the release of the hostages. The Marshall. His daughter. Sir Arashen, Lady Laeraelin. Squire Lominzil...and..." he sighs, "Lady Calenloth. But I have not seen such darkness result from it until now."
[Conalmir(#31396)] "Sir...My lord," Conalmir speaks up, his face still sick-looking. "I - Squire Lominzil spoke with me, asking me..." He swallows. "Telling me of this brand, and asking me to slay him did I see any hint of darkness in him. I swore this but I have not seen any signs of such so far."
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul catches sight of what he seeks as he takes away Calardan's weapons.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
Imrahil lets out a great sigh.
"At least there is the influence of darkness upon them, if this brand is the cause. Elusul, take also his chain and steed that sits upon his breast and keep it safe."
"As for the others, I... I do not know. There names are known to me and their hearts. But after this... we must keep watch on them and restrict their duties until the nature of this curse is made known to us."
"Ever shorter is the list of those that we can look on without caution. Ever shorter."
"Yes, Lord," Menelglir says obediently, though there is misery in his tone, as well. "Conalmir, fetch rope to bind him, and then we will escort him to the cells. I am sorry, Hir Calardan...truly I am."
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul takes off the chain of the office of Marshal and loops it around his neck for safekeeping. "The Lady Calenloth resides in the house of the Isilrim in White Town. But she along with Arashen and others have gone to Pinneth Gelin to attend to the business of the Telpekhori. If they have returned, I know not. Should I sent out messengers?" He looks at the prince questioningly.
[Niphredil(#10854)]
Like a fell spirit -- or a blessed one -- a figure approaches from behind the newly-arrived Knight-Herald, summoned as if by mention.
Stepping closer into the hall, Niphredil's hand rises to her mouth as she surveys the scene -- and her father fallen to his knees before the Prince, as though in pain. There her palm obstructs sound from bursting from her lips, sound which may have interrupted the Prince's speech.
Her steps quicken with a sudden bolt as she rounds the Knight before her, suddenly -- from a walk to a jog. And from the back of her throat, a simple plea of: "No -- pa."
[Conalmir(#31396)] "Yes, sir." Conalmir, face set and stiff, puts up his sword, and leaves. Back again soon, with rope required, he bows to the Knight Marshall, "Sir.. forgive me." He holds out the rope to Sir Menelglir. He looks up as Niphredil arrives, but can do no more than watch her, stricken.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"Dear lady, step no closer to your father!" Imrahil calls out, motioning to the Knight, "Detain her if you must. Ah, should have I not taken the man's offer to be a man-at-arms. Conalmir, keep her at bay!"
Confusion ever increasing in the room, the Prince answers Elusul, "Send yourself, with four of my Guard once this is dealt with," he says with a nod. Stepping from the dais, Imrahil calls for more of his men-at-arms to come to the room, "Foul business."
"Here," Meneglir says, sheathing his blade and reaching for the rope. "Your pardon, Hir," he says, apologizing even as attempts to bind Calardan's hands. He moves quickly, unless interfered wtih.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir moves to stand between Calardan and Niphredil. "I beg you, Lady," he says softly. "Please, come no nearer."
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan does not resist, even as his vision and hearing sharpen.
"Tell her Calavorn. It must be known the House hath passed to him before this event. Tell my daughter that name," says the bounded Knight.
He seems to hear his daughter's call but thinks it only a happy dream.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
Imrahil watches each man and woman in the room intently, eyes shifting from one to the other. "For now, there is too much unknown and danger is clear and present to us all. I will find my sister and see if she has any guidance on this. In the mean, if he has his wits about him, Calardan may roam with escort, but keep him bound until that time."
"Are my commands clear?" he asks of all in the room.
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul has gathered four men-at-arms and he nods to the prince. "We will seek out the others and bring them."
[Niphredil(#10854)]
Her running steps are halted with the Prince's words -- Niphredil jerks back, as if stung, and holds her hands high, palms outward, in surrender. A short distance she has travelled, yet she breathes as quickly and shallowly as though it were miles. Backward steps seek to retract her from her father, her feet falling to the marble floor with the grace of lead.
She watches Menelglir bind the Knight-Marshall's hands -- the muscles in her cheeks tense with the effort of silence. Jaw grinding, eyes burning, she looks to Conalmir -- then back again.
Brows pucker with hope at hearing her father's voice -- then the content brings a deeper pain across her features, an understanding that, for a moment, renders all emotion vulnerable upon her face. "Calavorn." Her backward steps become forward steps and her hand presses to her stomach for stability.
Niphredil Hlorithain leaves the great hall.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
A motion to Elusul from the Prince, "Send a man to follow her."
[Conalmir(#31396)] "Yes, my lord," Conalmir answers, not looking away from Niphredil. There is - can it be pity in his eyes? Surely not. But understanding.
"She will be told, Hir," Menelglir says in quiet answer to the Marshall. "And we will see to her safety." He looks to the Prince, nodding as he replies. "Yes, lord, quite clear." And then once more to Calardan, helping the man get to his feet and to walk if need be, "Come with me, Hir."
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul nods to the prince once more. "I will see to her as well. All who bear the mark will be found, all who bear the mark will be watched."
[Gwendion(#24427)]
"Excellent Admiral."
"Menelglir, you and Conalmir may escort the Mar... Lord Calardan to his chambers and post a guard -inside- the room. Find any coins of gold or metal of any sort and have it taken from his room. And, Menelglir, join me for a moment," the Prince says, moving to the arch.
[Conalmir(#31396)] A moment longer watching the lady as she leaves, and then Conalmir turns in silence, to stand beside Calardan, offering whatever assistance the man might need - if any.
"Yes, lord," Menelglir says, indicating for Conalmir to guard Calardan while the Silver Knight hurries over to the Prince. "How may I serve you, lord?"
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan allows himself to be carried off.
[<#24427>] The Prince's voice falls to a whisper, "Your blade, Knight, hand it to me."
"My lord?" Menelglir, talking quietly with the Prince by the arch, blinks in some confusion. He draws his blade and hands it to Imrahil, hilt first.
[<#24427>] Imrahil's hand takes up Menelglir's blade, "Since my awaking, your name has been as steady for Amroth and for Gondor as any other. Even know, my Marshall stands corrupted, and I am at a loss truly for it. But my eye is no so blind as to ignore those that stand true and in you I have seen it, Menelglir."
The Prince's other hand wraps around the blade, nearest the hilt, and with the quickest motion slides his palm against the blade. A red smear is left upon it as he pulls his hand from it. "Your blade now carries the blood of Imrazor upon it. As such, you are tasked to protect that which you serve until your dying breath and beyond. Men such as yourself are numbered as my High Guard and serve to protect my self and my family as well as Belfalas and Gondor." He holds the blade back out to Menelglir to take, "There is no oath for this rank. Nor it is a position you can accept or deny. Now, it is your duty."
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul witnesses this occasion from afar and then he turns and waves his only hand to the men-at-arms with him to follow him out in pursuit of Niphredil and the others.
[Conalmir(#31396)] Conalmir glances over at where the young knight and the Prince confer.
A quiet stillness overtakes Menelglir, who stands, not daring to move or even to blink as the Prince draws his own blood upon the Knight's sword. For what must seem like long moments, he says nothing at all.
Then, he finds his voice, but it is low and choked with emotion. "I hear, my lord, and I obey." He takes the sword, not returning it to its sheath, and waits only for the Prince's departure.
[Gwendion(#24427)]
A nod from the Prince. Then he calls to Elusul, "Admiral, count Menelglir among the High-Guard you take to the Telpekhori home."
"Now, I am off to my sister. Alert me if there is news." With that, the Prince disappears under the arch, leaving the rest to their work and their fate.
Players: Calardan,Imrahil,Galadhechil,Elusul,Conalmir,Niphredil,Menelglir
Located in: Gondorian
