Elendor
Midnight Intrigue
Tathar and Azradi have a conversation in the middle of the night.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Pelargir
Game Date: Oct 15, 3050
Description: Pelargir: Minas Sirion - Courtyard
The wall of shrubbery and trees surrounding Minas Sirion gives way here to a beautiful court lawn. In the middle of the court is a small fountain, presumably a duplicate of the one that flowed in Numenor before its fall. Minas Sirion and this court were built by the first wave of the Edain that settled this land. Despite its years, Minas Sirion remains one of the strongest castles in southern Gondor having survived many turmoils. Here at the court lawn, the palace guards stand alert at all the entryways to the rest of the grounds. A red brick path leads through ivy covered gates to Elendil's Landing. A cobbled path wanders between a break in the brick walls and into the magnificent garden, Thilerian. Between those lie the two great gates of the magnificent Minas Sirion.
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Weather: Clear
Time: Nighttime <00:39:30 >
Season: Autumn
Date: Orgilion - October 15, 3050
Real Time: Fri Aug 27 22:33:10 2010
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The night is cool, though not cold, and a thousand stars glitter overhead. Tathar has wrapped herself in a thick robe and crept outside to wander through the gardens and now sits on a small stone bench near to the fountain - though she is turned away so she can't see it. The changing of the guard has come and gone, and the uniformed men stand silent. The only sound is the splash of water, and an occasional jingle as one guard or another shifts his weight.
It is cool enough for the tall figure that now enters the courtyard to bundle warmly in a covering strange in cut. An odd figure in more ways than one: For clearly she wears a gown and yet her stride does not suggest a woman of Gondor. It almostmannish, but not lacking in grace for all that.
She brings into the night a jingle of her own. Not the harsh sound of a guard's tack and armor but the soft tinkle of golden earrings. They flash in the stray beams of light that cast dimly in the courtyard.
Azradi's passage brings her past the fountain as she makes her way from the city gates and heads towards the palace itself.
Tathar shifts her seat, looking around at the sound, and peering through the dimness as she tries to see the woman's face. "Good evening," she says, sounding somewhat reserved. She glances over at the guards - they are comfortingly present.
Abreast of the woman when the greeting is offered, Lady Farside turns her head - sending her earrings to sway and tinkle once more. "Lady Tathar," she says, coming to a stop. "Good evening."
Azradi's own tone is polite but reserved moods that are expressed aptly on her fair features. "Maha told me you would like me to visit you and I intended to. Fate has decreed it will be now, it seems."
"But I confess I am surprised."
"Surprised?" Tathar glances up swiftly, though she doesn't move her head. "If you wish to sit..." she says. Polite. Reserved. Very good descriptions. And now a faint hint of reluctance enters her voice. "Yes. I wished to ask you something."
"Yes," confirms Azradi. She gathers her burnoose and the skirts beneath to sit down on the bench, leaving a respectable distance between them. "I was surprised. You hold Southroners in great contempt."
She looks at the other woman expectantly.
It is a minute before Tathar says anything a minute in which she looks at the guards again - this time judging their distance. She lowers her voice a little to be sure no one will overhear. "I was told," she says, "that Ceredir swears allegience to someone in your family?" Her eyes flicker towards Azradi and then away again. And it seems she picks her words very carefully.
"That he sought refuge on your ships. And also, that he jumped into the river and his body has not been found. So the truce has not been broken. And I speak not of him, because he is surely dead, but... say, another man. Would you give such a man sanctuary for the oaths he swore to one of your kindred?" She looks up again, intent.
Evidencing surprise, Azradi looks at the woman sharply, studying her a good bit ere she answers. Her words, when she does answer, are chosen carefully. "If it is in power to give sanctuary to a man sworn to my blood, I would - yes."
"I do not know if Ceredir is dead or if he made good on his escape - though it is more likely he is dead. But I suspect he dove into the water out of desperation. He must have guessed I could not give him sanctuary here."
She stirs uncomfortably, and reluctantly adds: "I have oaths of mine to uphold and one of them is to protect those sworn to Farside Tower. I cannot jeopardize their lives, not the civilians at least. Merchants are not corsairs and some have brought members of their families with them."
Tathar nods. "Then you have some honor at least," she says to herself, softly. And though something in Azradi's words makes her stiffen and anger glint in her eyes, she keeps it from her words.
Taking a breath, she says, "I wished to ask you if you know of some help I can give my nephew. He said the man who tried to kill him wore a mask, and spoke of a sacrifice - and he wakes in the night, and sees enemies in the shadows. I know nothing about this and no one will tell me - what is this sacrifice?"
Fiercely, she adds, "My husband and child are dead. I do not apologize for my - my feelings towards your people. But I will do anything that I can so Turlach will live." Even ask help of an enemy, apparently.
Thrice does Tathar surprise the Lady Farside. Her rapt attention is brought swiftly, almost fiercely. Keen eyes of gray seek the other's gaze. "Your nephew was attacked?
"Tell me what happened." Azradi commands, her lips setting firmly.
This brings the lady's head up sharply - she closes her eyes and grips the edge of the stone seat. "You do not know?" she asks after a minute, surprised and disbelieving. For a minute longer, she stares at the Harad woman, then shrugs. "I am told he was told his existence was an insult. By one of your men. Someone named Aran, I think. Something like that." Clearly, she doesn't care what the man's name was - or how to pronounce it.
"Turlach left the inn, and as he came outside, a man of your people attacked him. He almost cut him in two!" Anger - driven by fear - rises in her voice. "He wore a mask, and said something about a sacrifice, but no one will tell me that."
Smoke pours from Mt. Doom as the Dark One's evil sorcery lags the game.
The smoke clears as good triumphs and the database saves.
An explosive string of words issue forth Azradi's mouth. Probably to Tathar's good fortune, it is in Haradaic and not Westron. Rising with energy, the Farside lady begins to pace before the bench. "Aran? I am not familiar with that name."
"By 'one of your men', do you mean he is merely a Southroner or was there some device or something he said that signified he was Farsider?" she asks, looking askance at the woman.
Tathar listens, frowning a little at the unfamiliar words. "I don't know," she answers. Isn't one Haradrim the same as another? "I think the mask was white and red. Turlach said he had an accent, which is how he knew he was not of Gondor."
"This man, if he is a Farsider, has broken my law as well as yours, Lady," Azradi says strongly, still pacing before the woman. "And he has threatened the truce and thus every Southron life here in Pelargir. I will assist in finding him, I assure you. But I will need to talk to your nephew to learn more."
"I assume your officers have begun an investigation?"
She stops her pacing abruptly, and stares at Tathar. "How is your nephew? How serious are his injuries?"
Tathar looks astonished. That the woman even cares, no doubt. And dubious at her promise of helping to find a fellow Southron to turn him over for justice. But she says none of this, only nodding. "Yes. They have not found him."
"He is healing. He has broken ribs and something was wrong with his lungs - he had a great deal of trouble breathing at first, I think." She looks a little apologetic. "I am not very certain, I'm afraid. I wasn't very aware of things some of the time. But he can get up and walk now, a little."
"It is late," Azradi states the obvious, somberly. "I will try and speak with him tomorrow if he is well enough."
"And if the healers allow a visiter," she adds. Evidently healers are the same all over Middle-Earth.
She looks the Gondorian lady over for a moment. "You are staying there as well?" she says, her voice softening.
"Yes," Tathar says again, and now she sounds rather peevish. "But I am returning to my rooms tomorrow I don't care what they say. The city can hardly be filled with men escaping to your ship, all waiting for me to walk by. I will be perfectly fine."
Without thinking, she touches her neck - there is a long, nearly-healed cut there - and gives the other woman a rueful smile, which is gone the instant she remembers who she is smiling at. "I am tired of being fussed over."
"You were attacked by one ours, too?" Azradi exclaims in alarm, her eyes darting to the woman's bandages.
"Ceredir," Tathar says. "I thought you knew. He did not precisely attack me though he only threatened to. A little, er, exuberantly." A look of sadness, and something else, less easily defined, crosses her face.
"I had a hard time discerning just what he was accused of," admits Azradi. "It was a confusing time on the docks that day."
"I was attempting to discover just that when he jumped in the water and made his crimes an academic exercise."
"It is late," she repeats. "And you should rest, Lady. Your trials have been great these past days."
"I don't know. For myself, he only threatened to hurt me if anyone stopped him going to your ship. Sir Findon said he would go instead of me, and he let me go."
"I suppose I should," Tathar says, sighing. "It is very peaceful out here..." She stands up, waits a moment to be sure she has her balance, before turning to walk back to the healers. But then she stops. A little grudgingly, but perhaps she surprises herself even with how little resentment is in her tone, she says, "Thank you."
A moment's hesitation and Azradi says, "Ceredir was not a traitor to Gondor not in his heart. He believed my brother is the true King and wanted to see him restored to the throne in order to make Gondor stronger."
"He cared little for Harad save that he craved the peace that would come with Umbar if Alphros became King. Then Gondor will have only one enemy to face."
"Good night, Lady," she says, then, inclining her brow. "Perhaps I will see you when I visit Turlach." Turning, Lady Farside walks away.
Tathar listens, and it seems she is comforted some small amount. "Good night," she replies, and then she too is gone - though more slowly and carefully - and in the opposite direction.
The wall of shrubbery and trees surrounding Minas Sirion gives way here to a beautiful court lawn. In the middle of the court is a small fountain, presumably a duplicate of the one that flowed in Numenor before its fall. Minas Sirion and this court were built by the first wave of the Edain that settled this land. Despite its years, Minas Sirion remains one of the strongest castles in southern Gondor having survived many turmoils. Here at the court lawn, the palace guards stand alert at all the entryways to the rest of the grounds. A red brick path leads through ivy covered gates to Elendil's Landing. A cobbled path wanders between a break in the brick walls and into the magnificent garden, Thilerian. Between those lie the two great gates of the magnificent Minas Sirion.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Weather: Clear
Time: Nighttime <00:39:30 >
Season: Autumn
Date: Orgilion - October 15, 3050
Real Time: Fri Aug 27 22:33:10 2010
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The night is cool, though not cold, and a thousand stars glitter overhead. Tathar has wrapped herself in a thick robe and crept outside to wander through the gardens and now sits on a small stone bench near to the fountain - though she is turned away so she can't see it. The changing of the guard has come and gone, and the uniformed men stand silent. The only sound is the splash of water, and an occasional jingle as one guard or another shifts his weight.
It is cool enough for the tall figure that now enters the courtyard to bundle warmly in a covering strange in cut. An odd figure in more ways than one: For clearly she wears a gown and yet her stride does not suggest a woman of Gondor. It almostmannish, but not lacking in grace for all that.
She brings into the night a jingle of her own. Not the harsh sound of a guard's tack and armor but the soft tinkle of golden earrings. They flash in the stray beams of light that cast dimly in the courtyard.
Azradi's passage brings her past the fountain as she makes her way from the city gates and heads towards the palace itself.
Tathar shifts her seat, looking around at the sound, and peering through the dimness as she tries to see the woman's face. "Good evening," she says, sounding somewhat reserved. She glances over at the guards - they are comfortingly present.
Abreast of the woman when the greeting is offered, Lady Farside turns her head - sending her earrings to sway and tinkle once more. "Lady Tathar," she says, coming to a stop. "Good evening."
Azradi's own tone is polite but reserved moods that are expressed aptly on her fair features. "Maha told me you would like me to visit you and I intended to. Fate has decreed it will be now, it seems."
"But I confess I am surprised."
"Surprised?" Tathar glances up swiftly, though she doesn't move her head. "If you wish to sit..." she says. Polite. Reserved. Very good descriptions. And now a faint hint of reluctance enters her voice. "Yes. I wished to ask you something."
"Yes," confirms Azradi. She gathers her burnoose and the skirts beneath to sit down on the bench, leaving a respectable distance between them. "I was surprised. You hold Southroners in great contempt."
She looks at the other woman expectantly.
It is a minute before Tathar says anything a minute in which she looks at the guards again - this time judging their distance. She lowers her voice a little to be sure no one will overhear. "I was told," she says, "that Ceredir swears allegience to someone in your family?" Her eyes flicker towards Azradi and then away again. And it seems she picks her words very carefully.
"That he sought refuge on your ships. And also, that he jumped into the river and his body has not been found. So the truce has not been broken. And I speak not of him, because he is surely dead, but... say, another man. Would you give such a man sanctuary for the oaths he swore to one of your kindred?" She looks up again, intent.
Evidencing surprise, Azradi looks at the woman sharply, studying her a good bit ere she answers. Her words, when she does answer, are chosen carefully. "If it is in power to give sanctuary to a man sworn to my blood, I would - yes."
"I do not know if Ceredir is dead or if he made good on his escape - though it is more likely he is dead. But I suspect he dove into the water out of desperation. He must have guessed I could not give him sanctuary here."
She stirs uncomfortably, and reluctantly adds: "I have oaths of mine to uphold and one of them is to protect those sworn to Farside Tower. I cannot jeopardize their lives, not the civilians at least. Merchants are not corsairs and some have brought members of their families with them."
Tathar nods. "Then you have some honor at least," she says to herself, softly. And though something in Azradi's words makes her stiffen and anger glint in her eyes, she keeps it from her words.
Taking a breath, she says, "I wished to ask you if you know of some help I can give my nephew. He said the man who tried to kill him wore a mask, and spoke of a sacrifice - and he wakes in the night, and sees enemies in the shadows. I know nothing about this and no one will tell me - what is this sacrifice?"
Fiercely, she adds, "My husband and child are dead. I do not apologize for my - my feelings towards your people. But I will do anything that I can so Turlach will live." Even ask help of an enemy, apparently.
Thrice does Tathar surprise the Lady Farside. Her rapt attention is brought swiftly, almost fiercely. Keen eyes of gray seek the other's gaze. "Your nephew was attacked?
"Tell me what happened." Azradi commands, her lips setting firmly.
This brings the lady's head up sharply - she closes her eyes and grips the edge of the stone seat. "You do not know?" she asks after a minute, surprised and disbelieving. For a minute longer, she stares at the Harad woman, then shrugs. "I am told he was told his existence was an insult. By one of your men. Someone named Aran, I think. Something like that." Clearly, she doesn't care what the man's name was - or how to pronounce it.
"Turlach left the inn, and as he came outside, a man of your people attacked him. He almost cut him in two!" Anger - driven by fear - rises in her voice. "He wore a mask, and said something about a sacrifice, but no one will tell me that."
Smoke pours from Mt. Doom as the Dark One's evil sorcery lags the game.
The smoke clears as good triumphs and the database saves.
An explosive string of words issue forth Azradi's mouth. Probably to Tathar's good fortune, it is in Haradaic and not Westron. Rising with energy, the Farside lady begins to pace before the bench. "Aran? I am not familiar with that name."
"By 'one of your men', do you mean he is merely a Southroner or was there some device or something he said that signified he was Farsider?" she asks, looking askance at the woman.
Tathar listens, frowning a little at the unfamiliar words. "I don't know," she answers. Isn't one Haradrim the same as another? "I think the mask was white and red. Turlach said he had an accent, which is how he knew he was not of Gondor."
"This man, if he is a Farsider, has broken my law as well as yours, Lady," Azradi says strongly, still pacing before the woman. "And he has threatened the truce and thus every Southron life here in Pelargir. I will assist in finding him, I assure you. But I will need to talk to your nephew to learn more."
"I assume your officers have begun an investigation?"
She stops her pacing abruptly, and stares at Tathar. "How is your nephew? How serious are his injuries?"
Tathar looks astonished. That the woman even cares, no doubt. And dubious at her promise of helping to find a fellow Southron to turn him over for justice. But she says none of this, only nodding. "Yes. They have not found him."
"He is healing. He has broken ribs and something was wrong with his lungs - he had a great deal of trouble breathing at first, I think." She looks a little apologetic. "I am not very certain, I'm afraid. I wasn't very aware of things some of the time. But he can get up and walk now, a little."
"It is late," Azradi states the obvious, somberly. "I will try and speak with him tomorrow if he is well enough."
"And if the healers allow a visiter," she adds. Evidently healers are the same all over Middle-Earth.
She looks the Gondorian lady over for a moment. "You are staying there as well?" she says, her voice softening.
"Yes," Tathar says again, and now she sounds rather peevish. "But I am returning to my rooms tomorrow I don't care what they say. The city can hardly be filled with men escaping to your ship, all waiting for me to walk by. I will be perfectly fine."
Without thinking, she touches her neck - there is a long, nearly-healed cut there - and gives the other woman a rueful smile, which is gone the instant she remembers who she is smiling at. "I am tired of being fussed over."
"You were attacked by one ours, too?" Azradi exclaims in alarm, her eyes darting to the woman's bandages.
"Ceredir," Tathar says. "I thought you knew. He did not precisely attack me though he only threatened to. A little, er, exuberantly." A look of sadness, and something else, less easily defined, crosses her face.
"I had a hard time discerning just what he was accused of," admits Azradi. "It was a confusing time on the docks that day."
"I was attempting to discover just that when he jumped in the water and made his crimes an academic exercise."
"It is late," she repeats. "And you should rest, Lady. Your trials have been great these past days."
"I don't know. For myself, he only threatened to hurt me if anyone stopped him going to your ship. Sir Findon said he would go instead of me, and he let me go."
"I suppose I should," Tathar says, sighing. "It is very peaceful out here..." She stands up, waits a moment to be sure she has her balance, before turning to walk back to the healers. But then she stops. A little grudgingly, but perhaps she surprises herself even with how little resentment is in her tone, she says, "Thank you."
A moment's hesitation and Azradi says, "Ceredir was not a traitor to Gondor not in his heart. He believed my brother is the true King and wanted to see him restored to the throne in order to make Gondor stronger."
"He cared little for Harad save that he craved the peace that would come with Umbar if Alphros became King. Then Gondor will have only one enemy to face."
"Good night, Lady," she says, then, inclining her brow. "Perhaps I will see you when I visit Turlach." Turning, Lady Farside walks away.
Tathar listens, and it seems she is comforted some small amount. "Good night," she replies, and then she too is gone - though more slowly and carefully - and in the opposite direction.
