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Knight's Tower- Knight-Herald's Spire: Portico of the Sun
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Knight-Herald's Spire
[Arathis]
Dawn’s little feet grace a new day in Belfalas, coppering sea-salty airs and the birds already at task beyond their pier- and sparse November tree-homes, leaves either fallen or red.
The port to the Herald’s chambers yawns open, yet he is not to be seen past it. The door too to the Sun’s Portico is open.
[Calardan(#30834)]
A knock-- rap, rap, rapping at the Herald's door then there is bootfall and Calardan Hlorithain steps inside. "Hir Arathis?" inquires the Knight.
[Arathis]
“Yea,” comes the lonely response from without the portico, carried in more by the winds than its speaker’s angle.
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan debuts a loose ensemble of green and black, choiced with the occasional burn of gold. His tunic green, his trousers black, and his chain of rank shines mithril upon his breast. The black-haired Hir stops at the portico doorway, leans at it, folding his arms at his chest. "My Lord Isilrim," he states passively, "I could not run from your name if I wanted."
[Arathis]
“Yea,” repeats the cavalier, wrapped coolly in an unhemmed azure fabric, “pettifogs.”
A short turn of the head both regards and gestures the arrived forward. “Join me, Marshall.”
[Calardan(#30834)]
The Knight-Marshall vaults himself to straight and no more than two steps bring him nigh upon the balcony and upon Arathis as well. He makes a point not to relax too muchly, saying, "What should I be asking you, Arathis?"
"Tell me what I am to think of recent events."
[Arathis]
The Herald looks in question upon the Marshall, long reserving his words. A hand then issues from his folds to Calardan’s back.
“Methinks we require more ships, Marshall. Would you agree?”
[Calardan(#30834)]
"With what would you crew more of what we have only just filled," states the Hlorithain Knight bluntly, the hand ignored, his manner growing stricter.
[Arathis]
"With the call of the Prince and Steward," answers the Lord Isilrim, an air of soliloquy about him. His hands return to join at his back, some fingers protruding.
"Calardan, you deliver me a patrician's worries. You have asked a queer question I mean to answer in my manner."
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan lingers upon Arathis with an oaken severity, before looking out to sea.
"We require more ships," he answers, simply now.
[Arathis]
A middling nod from the Herald, who peers yet outward -- "One among many weaknesses that require redress, Marshall." Upon the far railing of the Sun's Portico, a grey-patched gull suddenly descends, squawking loudly of affairs without an avian's gaucherie. The Isilrim slides inwards, returning with a biscuit in hand.
"Tell me," he continues, a lightness to him, "what know you of the Pretender?" The biscuit is tossed to the gull.
[Calardan(#30834)]
"I know him as ape and jester," answers Calardan from the sea, "A man paraded in by cats, who dances upon tabletops with a dunce's simplicity."
"I also hear he cut down Prince Elphir's van at the Harondor."
[Arathis]
"So," matches the Herald, bending forward to better observe the gull at meal, "you know naught of your Enemy, save that he too has a sword." The biscuit is torn and much devoured the gull then departs, some remnants of his victual littering behind.
"I fear I am not much better," continues Arathis, righting himself. "His agents pollute our homes with his notices, his name finds echo upon our taverns' songs, and his will, aye, has perhaps even found way to our councils. He knows us but him, we know not."
[Calardan(#30834)]
"Where is our Captain?" asks Calardan with phrasing that more resembles a statement than it does a question. The Hlorithain looks up to Arathis as the Herald straightens. "The city's own minds and might are his to bear.
Speech quickens from the Knight-Marshall then, suddenly robbed of his patience: "And what have you learned from those who were detained? I am left to defend ghosts of your intentions. Speak plainly, I beg you. I am not one for riddles."
[Arathis]
“Our Captain is a dull man,” betrays Arathis freely, booting the biscuit’s remainder off his spire’s height.
He considers the Marshall, his brow pursing. “I am no riddler. Stratagem is not always plain.
“I know not my Enemy I wish to know him. He has heard of my show and arrests, as he shall hear of more. Let him think Gondor’s new Captain is mad for him and let him know me thus less.
“Mayhap I shall come to know him by his reactions, and give him opportunity for mistake. Already, his agents have loosened his ape, as he risked their beings for mere symbol.
“Already, I know him some better.
“From those detained, I seek his network, whether here or in Umbar. Already a young Girithlin lass has admitted to hiding the identity of one of his.
“Now, Calardan, you shall defend my intentions to none, lest they break our faith. So long as my true allies know me and the knighthood is strong in its rule, let all others name me villain.”
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan is considerate, less quick now his haste before is forgotten, the words then having been repeated many times in his own head. His next words are chosen more carefully. They say, "As you wish, Arathis," concludingly.
"There is another matter.
"Our existing ships are crewed as best they can, but I am a man of grass and hill and not salt and sea. There must be another more appointed to this task than I," says Calardan, "There is little shame in the admission that I am only newly familiar with our Order's current quality."
[Arathis]
An easy, singular nod from the Lord Isilrim the matter appears unforeign to him.
“Object ye to Hir Elusul as admiral?”
[Calardan(#30834)]
"A safe choice," comments the Marshall, "No objections."
[Arathis]
“He is a loyal and capable man,” furthers Arathis, collecting his fabrics for motion.
“Remain, if you would. I know not how early you take your wine, but it is upon my desk.”
The Herald then departs for some moments, issuing courier for his kinsman.
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan is at the portico again, his elbows on the rail, arms cast over and a crimson-stained glass hanging loosely out. His eyes flirt with the bay.
[Elusul(#30120)]
Having been called, Elusul presents himself after having knocked on and passed through the glass doors. The knight salutes the herald and then recognizes the man looking out over the sea and he is given a salute as well. "My lords, how may I serve you both today? Is there some news that has come to light regarding the the city's security?"
[Arathis]
Some fey pleasure marks the Isilrim lord at his kinsman's entrance.
"Hir Elusul," he points decidedly at the waters afar, "the Marshall and I speak of the seas, our words however even more limited than our eyes. Tell us of our seas unseen."
[Calardan(#30834)]
The Marshall turns to the entrant and rights himself of a casual posture.
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul looks from one man to the other, unsure of this question. Considering a moment, he speaks at last. "The sea can be our great hope as we look to our enemies along the coasts. Our reach is limited, especially so now after recent events. But the sea provides for those who consider well where best to use their reach."
[Arathis]
“You tell us little, Elusul, and you do not report to me of the sea lanes as I have asked,” remarks the Herald, a certain chastisement traipsing upon his bass. “Have I equipped you poorly for this task?”
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul does not look at all abashed by this reply. Rather, he says clearly, "No, my lord, not at all. Your question though carried with it something of the philosophical. I shall answer practically henceforth. For now the seas are clear. It would seem that that the corsairs have chosen to wait and watch which is interesting in itself. I am able to report that we continue to make up our losses from Caldur. New ships are taking form and the levies from the coastal fiefs are settling in."
[Arathis]
“Very good, very good,” utters Arathis, a hand framing his beard. “We shall need new ships.” He looks then expectantly upon the Marshall, allowing a step backwards.
[Calardan(#30834)]
"And a new admiral to see that they are manned, outfitted and captained appropriately," says Hir Calardan, a hand slipping to his pocket briefly.
He steps up to Elusul and extends him a silver eight-pointed star & compass.
"Imrahil gave it to me upon my own appointment, but I am not fit to wear it," he says to the Isilrim seaman, "So it will come to you, as will its burdens."
[Elusul(#30120)]
Elusul extends his hand and accepts the insignia of the knight-admiral. He looks down at it, feeling its weight in his hand both physical and metaphrical. Looking up, "Kinsman, brother knight... This is a great honor and responsibility... I will do my best to see that the Swanfleet continues protecting the sealanes of the prince's fiefs and all of Gondor."
[Arathis]
“It shall be needed for more than that, Admiral,” says Arathis, resigning inwards to his chambers.
“Come, we shall all meet soon enough about the council’s table.”
