Taking Council
Minas Tirith: The Council Hall
Behold, the Great Council Hall! For few other buildings of Minas Tirith quite capture the might and grandeur of Numenorean architecture. The main entrance immediately opens to a wide bowl containing three tiers of seating, below which is located the venerated floor where the principal orators of Gondor make their stand. A large dome sits high atop, half carved into the city rock face, the other half bearing open panes to the sky, and the whole of it held up by seven mighty statues of ancient Lords past their arms out stretched, hands meeting at the center. A large dais at far end of the hall hosts the Steward's delegation.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
Twilight has descended and Minas Tirith turns cold without the bright, spring light to warm it. Every lamp is lit in the Council Hall, and unusual situation surpassed only by nearly every seat in the Council Hall is filled, at the dias, nearly everyone one of the Steward's delegation, Lords and Ladies of the major houses. And in the gallery, those men and women of Gondor who are able to find seats, many others outside awaiting a retelling of the words spoken. And to the aside of the dias, sits the lone, young Haradrim, relaxed and quiet.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
In the first tier, the Bragollachs sit, Bor, Gweneth and her daughter, frowns etched deep in all their faces. Only the latter appears attentive, quill and notebook in hand. The Lord of the House is as he always is, gruff and bored. And it's Chancellor, eying not the Haradrim, but the Lords and Ladies of the other houses.
[Helchir(#30487)]
A statue of a figure stands upon the dias seemingly chissled from cold marble. Closer inspection might reveal the faint regular breathing of a living soul, though. Helchir, presently the speaker of the Council assembled here, watches silently over the gathered congregation. Others of the Mormegilion Houses sit nearby.
[Aearon(#16333)]
Sitting near the rear of the Council Hall is the Lieutenant Aearon Telpekhor, his eyes move about the room from the Lords and Ladies of Gondor to the Haradrim. As he sits upon his chair he looks relaxed and bored waiting for the proceedings to begin.
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
In the first tier, situated among the other lords of the Western Houses, stands the ancient seat of the Telpekhiri. Laeraelin sits in the chair of her father, a small figure draped in the silver and blue of her maiden lineage. Above her, draped over the tall back of the highly polished chair, hang two narrow banners: The Telpekhor standard, of course, but also the banner of her late husband's House, Azrabar.
The woman herself gazes at times upon the dark-skinned mystery seated near the dais, but more often at the other lords and ladies. It is upon the latter that her scrutiny is keener.
Part of the official military delegation here, Ceredir is at first near the rear of the council hall. Not satisfied with that placement, though, he slowly moves his way up in the room, finding a place to stand to one side where his view is unobstructed. It is only then that he sees Yildirim, and his expression registers shock.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
For a moment, Gweneth's eyes find Laeraelin's and there is a knowing smile before she calls to Lord Helchir, "A motion to begin, Speaker, if it has not been called. I call it. The room is full enough."
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
Laeraelin returns that slight smile, holding the older woman's eyes for a moment ere her gaze sweeps onward. She catches the expression Ceredir as they pass his way and there her look tarries a moment. She follows the Master Scout's eyes to the dais, loosing the cause of his shock in the small crowd there. Frowning, her attention is called away from the puzzle by Gweneth's call for the council to begin. She nods her head and settles her gaze upon Helchir - a man of her own middle years and yet bearing the relation of nephew.
[Aearon(#16333)]
Getting up from his seat slowly Aearon makes his way towards the rest of the military delegation to get a better view of the proceedings, nearing the Master -Scout Ceredir he stops and looks back towards the Lords and Ladies of Gondor. Looking to Lady Laeraelin he bows his head a moment before once again looking about the crowd gathered in the Hall.
[Helchir(#30487)]
Helchir quite agrees, for even as the last remaining comers shuffle to their seats, the Cold Lord takes from a flanking aid a tall rod of great might. Raising it only inches into the air, when the end meets the marble stone dias, it sends a crack of thunder through the hall and demands silence.
After a moment the Lord Cuthalion speaks. ""The Lords of the Kingdom of Gondor are here assembled this day to hear the words of the foreigner Yildirim. According to the honor of our ways, the visitor shall be heard." He turns now to the Haradrim. "You may speak."
It's several seconds before Ceredir realizes that Aeraon has come to stand besides him, but he finally tears his eyes away from the Haradrim and turns to acknowledge the man with a nod. He doesn't speak for now, silenced by Helchir's demand. Then, frowning now, he looks back with intensity to Yildirim.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
The Haradrim stands and walks dutifully towards the dais. His manner and motions appear calm and confident to all but the keenest of eyes. He addresses not the tier of the Council, but the room in general in a well spoken Westron.
"Gondor, I am Yildirim an'Kaplan, son of Oktar. I am honored and very gracious this chance to speak with you this evening. In my wait, I have learned words I would share with you."
At first, his words seem gibberish, but soon a heavily accented and often mis-pronounced lilting of the Elvish tongue becomes recognizable as he speaks,
"
In spring, flowers rise,
The trees bud, water run,
And the merry little birds sing."
"This is my first impression of your lands and people. A beautiful land filled," the slightest of hesitations, "Mainly with beautiful people. Again, my thanks for hearing my words this night."
[Helchir(#30487)]
Helchir, hearing in an accent familiar to a scion of the once Wardens of the Harondor speaking highly of his home and kingdom, offers a sole firm nod.
[Aearon(#16333)]
Returning the nod to Ceredir Aearon studies the man for a moment before his gaze returns to the Lords of the House, listening to the Haradrim speak he nods his head and listens intently to the words spoken.
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
Aearon's presence is noted when he enters the orbit of Laeraelin's interest: Ceredir. She dips her head slightly in return, a smile - warm though slight - is bestowed.
The lady's attention is brought solidly to the Haradrim emissary. One arched brow rises when he recites his poetry in the high language of her land, but she otherwise remains silent. Those around her murmur, whether in surprise or disapproval.
Further shock registers on Ceredir's face as Yildirim speaks in Sindarin, but this time he tries to hide it behind a cough. "What on earth a purpose does coming here and reciting poetry to us serve?" he whispers to Aearon.
Behind the contingent of Bragollach lords, the 18-year-old Telpekhor Menelglir, in the uniform of a Blue Squire, reacts more vehemently, turning to Sir Gwendion, his whisper harsh. "The nerve! Sindarin!"
[Yildirim(#24191)] "With that, I will begin with the story of why I am here. You may or may not know that Umbar is ruled not by a King," a shake of the head, "No, no longer, but by a Council, much like this one," he gestures to the Council itself. "My mistress there is named by the Tower she rules as Lady Farside, and thus, I would make clear, while I am here with the blessing of the Council of Umbar, it is her I serve and speak for."
"Too, I acknowledge we are at war," he saddens, "Bitterly so. But even in war, there are times when it behooves both groups to put down swords and hear the other speak, now for instance," he explains with a gracious nod for the Cold Lord. With these points in mind, I begin."
[Yildirim(#24191)]
A whisper in turn by the Knight Gwendion to his squire, "But you cannot doubt it's effect. Now everyone is paying attention. His words cannot be ignored now."
[Helchir(#30487)]
The ensemble of whispering being anything but not obvious, the Lord Helchir pardons an interruption with a firm reminder to the congregation. "We will have honor!" His eyes then fall again to the Haradrim.
[Aearon(#16333)]
Not looking away from the Haradrim Aearon says with disgust in hushed words so that only Ceredir can hear "Poetry, Sindarin.." ending with an ever so slight shake of his head
"Yes...everyone will listen to his lies now..." Menelglir hisses low to Gwendion. Then, abashed at Helchir's warning, he reddens, only glancing sideways now to the Knight.
Ceredir, on catching the exchange of nodded greetings between Aearon and Laeraelin, looks that way. He, too, nods to the Telpekhor woman, though his expression is grim and tightly controlled as he does so. His gaze does not stay long at all on the woman, and though he is now trying to moderate his expression, there is a blink or two of shock again at the news the Haradrim brings.
"No king..?" This low to Aearon. "What of their pretender to our throne?"
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
In a rustle of silken skirts, Laeraelin stands and looks quietly, expectantly at Helchir.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
Yildirim's voice stops at the standing of the noblewoman, clearly confused. He opens his mouth to speak but instead, too, looks to Helchir expectantly.
[Helchir(#30487)]
To the Lady, Helchir nods. "The floor is given to hear the words of Lady Laeraelin of the Telpkekor."
[Yildirim(#24191)]
A light of understanding comes over the Haradrim and he smiles and bows his head to the Telpekhor.
[Aearon(#16333)]
Listening to Ceredirs words Aearon says nothing as Lady Laeraelin stands and is given the floor, Standing up strait he waits intently to hear the words of Laeraelin
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
"Thank you," Laeraelin says, inclining her brow graciously to the Lord Presider. "Clearly, you have much to say so I will ask but one question to clarify and allow you to continue, Ambassador Yildirim. The Council of Lords' blessing only? You do not speak for them nor can we expect them to be bound by agreements we make with you, yes?"
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"It is not as it is in Gondor, Lady... Laeraelin. The council does not send diplomats for our council does not rule Umbar, its Tower-Lords do. To say I have the blessing of the council means the other Tower-Lords approve of my mission here, but you are correct, I cannot speak for them directly. My mission is unprecedented for either Gondor or Umbar and thus the chance of failure quite likely. It was better thought to send one and small crew, than many and have them all jailed or killed. If agreements are made this day between Farside and Gondor, the Council has implied they will follow suit. I hope this answer satisfies you?"
[Helchir(#30487)]
Helchir searches Laeraelion's face for satisfaction, though his glance also seeks out the next who would speka.
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
"It does. Thank you," replies Laeraelin. With no further words, the lady retakes her seat with her usual grace and poise. Once settled, her hooded gaze falls politely on the Ambassador, waiting for him to resume.
[Aearon(#16333)]
Listening to the words of Laeraelin Aearon says in a whisper to Ceredir "Good question is it not" and then the words of the Haradrim he says once again in a whisper to Ceredir "As if his word can be trusted, or the word of their Tower-Lords"
[Helchir(#30487)]
Ultimately it is Helchir who speaks. "Ambassador, you speak pleseantries and they are received with the spirit in which they are given. I have heard already your message myself, but if you may state it now for all here to hear, we may more quickly procede to an answer."
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"I fear he would not come if he was not armed with something much more dangerous than lies, Squire," and indeed, as the Haradrim gives his answer, Gwendion's frown only deepens.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
And so Yildirim does, "As I said, there are differences between us, surely. Umbar is thought in Gondor, I believe, to be filled with naught but men of war and death. Much the same is thought of Gondor in Umbar. But in fact, we have our scholars and artists and treat the works and histories of the world much as you do, with interest and a great respect. To that point, our ancient texts, some indigenous to Umbar and other's not, have found, we believe, such a moment of peace as I have mentioned before."
"We have read that the twelfth king of Gondor, the Lord of the Coasts, Tarannon Falastur son of Siriondil, was a great man in your histories. His deeds are known well here as well as in the South. A man of the sea a Ship-King, I believe you have named him."
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"It was a time when Umbar was its own, and he sought to protect his people with peace as well as for war. Nearest his home, built on the sea itself in the great city of my arrival, Pelargir, he set into law a chance for even the most blood thirsty of enemies to tolerate and even benefit from each other, despite our differences."
"Indeed, King Falastur, it is written in your law, called for a festival of trade to be held at least once for every thrice a winter comes. To allow all, from any land, to come and trade and make merry regardless of nation or creed. A celebration of Man and of life in a time of such difficulty for both." A small, friendly smile comes from the young man, "The last of these festivals, of course, is beyond the memory of any here today."
Then his features harden once more, "Thus we ask Gondor, in respect and hope for a time of peace between the bitter years of our war, to honor the Law of its King, and open Pelargir to a Festival of Falastur!"
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
The murmuring about Laeraelin subsides a bit as the swarthy man of Umbar catches their attention once more. Lord Telpekhor's daughter ignores what speculation perseveres and watches the expressions and reactions of those listening - for a long moment, her sea-gray eyes fall upon the Lord Presider, Helchir when he reveals his prior knowledge of the preceedings.
[Helchir(#30487)]
Helchir holds silent in his position, allowing the words of the Ambassador to resonate.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"Outrageous!" come the near instantaneous cries from the Bragollach Lord and Chancellor as Yildirim finishes. The younger Gweneth looks up from her writing to eye the Haradrim, a queer smile curling on her lips.
"A festival??!" In the murmuring that follows Yildirim's words, Menelglir's question sounds too loud. He reddens and slinks down in his seat, his height no help in trying to hide here. Though the outburst by the Bragollach lords in front of him do much to ease his embarrassment.
Ceredir coughs again, sounding like he has choked on the idea, but he stares at Yildirim hard, then turns to watch Helchir's reponse.
[Helchir(#30487)]
Helchir scans those looking his way. "Lady Gweneth, you wish to speak?"
[Yildirim(#24191)]
The Bragollach Chancellor turns a hard gaze on her daughter. Snapped from her reverie, she stands in her mother's place, "If I may, Lord Presider. I believe, the Bragollach would issue a protest to this request. I believe we question the intent and merit of it based on prior engagements with the city of Umbar and its leaders." She clears her throat and then seats herself once more.
[Helchir(#30487)]
"A fair request." Helchir aknowledges, looking to the Ambassador. A confirming glance to Ceredir reassures the military liason of his pending time to speak.
"I'm here as part of the military delegation," Ceredir begins, with a glance to Yildirim before he addresses both Helchir and the Haradrim. "And what securit could we possibly have? Letting..forgive me, Ambassador, but letting the enemy into our own borders, with only the promise of honor to keep the peace."
[Helchir(#30487)]
"Would anyone else like to speak before the Ambassador again receives the floor?" Helchir asks.
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
As outbursts and questions fly, Laeraelin calmy adjusts her skirts. A slight smile curves the corners of her lips. She seeks the gaze of the Lord Presider, or his aid, and gestures her desire to speak.
[Laeraelin(#24692)] "I would," she says as the question precedes her geture.
[Helchir(#30487)]
Helchir nods her way.
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
"I am assuming," Laeraelin begins, standing to her feet. Small of stature and very aware of it, the lady moves from her seat to stand a several paces away and thus more visible to the assembled. "That since this request has already been heard by Lord Helchir and others, that our own scholars have verified this law? If so, then we have no course than to honor it. The rule of law is the great foundation of our realm. It has allowed us to thrive and endure these past centuries since the last King passed."
"But the question of security is an important one. Forgive me if my delicate sex leaves me unable to fully understand the issues surrounding such a thing..." the lady's smile turns wry, "...but it seems to me that two things must be accomplished: Their ability to harm us must be contained and yet they must feel safe themselves and be able to participate in the contests of arms. Perhaps we could impose a restriction on where and how a weapon can be present?"
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"This concern was anticipated, obviously," the Haradrim replies reassuringly, "To that I would say, in the years of my life, only Gondor has ever broken parley. The Haradrim are cunning, some honorable, some cruel, but we recognize the need for rules when it comes to war. If anything, history has shown that visitors from Harad would have more to fear than the Gondorians. Of course, I believe it is to be a festival of trade. Only the merest number of men to protect any figures of significant import would accompany the merchants. We want what you have, livestock, garments, drink. And you from us, silks and spices and foodstuffs. If you wish it, you may search all men and goods that enter your lands by our ships. It is your festival, you may police it as you wish. Farside would only ask you to be pragmatic and allow some measure of self defense available for visiting dignitaries from the less open minded."
"As to your calls for the rule of Law, it is our hope that today, Gondor can show your statements to be true on this matter, Lady Laeraelin. Thank you for your most wise words."
"Sir...I wish to speak." Menelglir, back behind the Bragollachs, has jumped to his feet.
[Helchir(#30487)]
Helchir seems about to speak until it is Menelglir who does so. The Lord Presider nods. "The floor is yours."
The Ambassador speaks of the honor of his people and their safety, yet..." Menelglir stammers nervously, "in my trying to talk to the Ambassador, I found that he consistently twisted his words to try to drive my temper. At times successfully, alas. And so I would that though he claims honor, in his heart there is no peace and he will use any means possible, short of breaking his version of honor, to drive us to rash moves."
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"Err.." Gwendion says as the Squire moves too quick for him to grab and tie the Squire to his seat. Instead, he clears his throat and ducks his head as best he can behind Bor's well coifed head..
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
"And how often has a Knight done the same to test your temper, Squire?!" calls out an anonymous voice from among the general crowd upon the highest tiers. Laughter rises from among those near the unknown heckler.
The comment from the crowd is enough to turn the Blue Squire red he sits back down in a hurry and sinks lower than Gwendion. Those close might hear a low groan.
[Helchir(#30487)]
While others grin, the Lord Presider is expressionless. "I, Helchir Endaerion Mormegil Lord Cuthalion shall speak.."
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"If I may answer the Squire first, my lord?" Yildirim asks.
[Helchir(#30487)]
"Far reaching are the memories of the Lords of Far Tower if they remember the name Falastur, for they might then known his heir Earanil, who my own son shares a namesake. That is not without intention." He pauses as the meaning of the second Sea King's mentioning resonates.
"Today, and for as many Stewards and Kings back as our memory can gather, our two realms have been at war. But there have been times of peace, of trade and commerce, of the exchanges of merchants and of vassals."
[Helchir(#30487)]
Having spoken over the Ambassador's request, the Lord Presider then with a outstretched palm, turns the floor back to the Haradrim.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"I apologize, but the Squire's word found laughter, but they were well spoken and a valid question to one of the few who has spoken with me outside of this day. First, the Squire blames me for his actions. But I think it is clear to any man of experience, that a man's actions are his own and his alone and he should take responsibility for them. Thus, Squire, do not blame me for you being you."
"As to my heart, I think it is a foolish ideal to think we will walk the streets of Pelargir, arm in arm in song and dance. Instead, we will curse at each other. We will mock and prod the honor of each other. Perhaps, we will even come to blows. But," and now a finger is pointed at the Squire, "No man will die from it, unlike any other exchange between our people for generations."
"The question I have for Gondor is can two enemies, stand toe to toe, and offer bread instead of blood, if only for the briefest of times? Even if is a failure, then what?" A laugh, "We war? That is the path for us already. But your Falastur sought for a time of a different way. And in it, Umbar and the Haradrim find value in it, even as you doubt our motives and our honor, as we have in the past. "
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
Laeraelin rises again, her eyes turned to the Lord Presider. "If I may speak again...?"
[Helchir(#30487)]
"One moment, my Lady." he says to Laeraelin with a raised palm. To the Haradrim he turns. "Make no mistake, Ambassador. Honorless men might again become honorable, thieves might yet become benefactors, and murderers might yet become redeemers. The men of Umbar are Men still. It is the He the Lord of Darkness whom you worship alone that that maintains you as Enemies. Say I, then, senforth those most apathetic to that dark worship and I deem you may find them well tolerated."
He then yields the floor to the Lady.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"I fear another misconception of our people. It is true, that there are men who worship those of the East and its Master, but do not ascribe this description to Umbar nor all its people. Such men are found more often, the nearer his domain, but they are found in all places to the detriment of all."
He pauses, a scratch of his chin as he ponders, "Often it is known the creed of a man. In the interest of making this as palatable as possible for Gondor, of those who choose to send, we will do our best to make sure they are not worshippers of the East if it can be promised that this conciliation is never spoke of aloud again."
Next to Ceredir, another of the military delegation twitches as the Ambassador speaks, then nods toward Helchir to indicate his wish to speak after the Telpekhor Lady.
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
"I put no great store in this talk of peace," says Laeraelin, smiling tightly at the Haradrim. "I am a pragmatic woman. Allowing the Haradrim to attend the fair will not herald in a new era for our peoples. While I have every confidence we can mingle for a short while with no loss of life, I would expect the enmity between us to continue in the future."
"I support this proposal because it is the law and we are a realm of honor. I also am interested in the trade opportunities it could present."
"I cannot believe the Lords of Umbar have high aspirations for peace from this event, either. Ambassador, Yildirim, you can speak for at least one of these lords. What does your Lady hope to gain from this?"
[Helchir(#30487)]
Helchir nods to Ceredir.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
Again, but with a look towards her daughter, the younger Gweneth rises but a moment after Laeraelin's words, "The Bragollach respectfully request we decline this request for a festival. It is preposterous to be held to a law some two and a half millennium old," she says, with some visible reluctance, "It may well be King's law, but the preservation of Gondor is paramount and I would think, King Falastur would agree were he here this day."
[Helchir(#30487)]
"After Ceredir speaks I move we should bring this matter to a vote for presentation to the Stewart."
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"What I have spoken of Lady trade and a chance to see what has not been seen in our lifetimes," Yildirim answers simply.
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
"Very well," replies Laeraelin. She takes her seat.
Ceredir looks to the Master Scout next to him, who requested to speak. The man steps forward a little. "I agree with the Bragollach, on behalf of the military," he says with a quick scowl to Ceredir, who has not voiced his objection to the plan. "The Ambassador says that the worst that can happen is war, but I say the worst that could happen is that the enemy has infiltrated our lands, has sought out and found weaknesses. All because of some twisted notion of honor that causes us to obey an outdated law not meant for a time of war."
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
The lord representing House Rovacil stands and formally says, "I second the motion to vote." He retakes his seat immediately after.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"I would correct the young soldier," Yildirim replies, "The law was enacted after your King built his navies and sailed them for war. But he saw the value in it yet."
[Yildirim(#24191)]
Again the young Bragollach stands, "We wish to hear no more and also call for a vote."
[Helchir(#30487)]
Again the mighty rod of the Lord Presider intones throughout the hall. "Then the Council shall lends it voices to a consensus. All in favor of allowing the Umbarian participation say Aye."
[Laeraelin(#24692)]
"Aye" says Laeraelin, her clear voice joining the general response.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
The representative for House Isilrim sounds, "Aye." Followed by the lone representative from Morthond.
There's a bit of a heated, low discussion between Ceredir and the other scout before Ceredir steps forth to speak. "On behalf of the military...no."
[Helchir(#30487)]
Helchir speaks. "The Mormegil Houses vote Aye, except the Carmayar who abstain."
[Yildirim(#24191)]
Without rising, young Gweneth states, "An emphatic nay," quite indifferently.
[Helchir(#30487)]
A burly giant of a metal-clad man rises. "I, Rabazgar, on behalf of the Ephalkhir, vote Nay."
[Yildirim(#24191)]
Several of the smaller houses sound out their votes, many, in league with the Isilirim, vote with the larger house.
[Helchir(#30487)]
Several of the Coastal Lords vote aye, those of Tol Falas and the Cirdain.."
[Yildirim(#24191)]
And so it goes for several minutes, until all the votes are tallied with a crier announcing, "The Yays have the vote, milord."
The Bragollach Lord jumps to his feet and stomps out of the Hall, pushing through the onlookers. Gwendion glances to his squire and opens his mouth to speak, only to sigh and close it again. Yildirim smiles.
Ceredir shows no reaction, though the other Master Scout with him is openly angry. Both men turn and leave the room immediately after the Bragollachs.
Menelglir glances sideways at Gwendion, shhrugging lightly but otherwise looking a bit sheepish.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"I cannot say if this is ill or good, in truth," Gwendion finally finds his words, "There is more to this, of course, but I cannot see what. A plot for invasion is unlikely. Abduction? Infiltration? There are far easier ways to do these things. It all so... odd."
[Helchir(#30487)]
"And so they do." Helchir replies, as he is handed a scroll containing the written record of the vote. "I shall take this to the Lord Steward." Then to the Haradrim he looks. "Barring the final judgement reserved by the Steward, you wish has been granted Ambassador."
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"I shall inform, my Lady, Lord Presider. The graciousness of the council is well received and will be reported to my Lady," Yildirim replies.
"A question on my," he coughs, "Determent. Will I be confined until your Steward issues his will? Perhaps, I may have an escort? It was some many days I last waited for a reply."
[Helchir(#30487)]
Helchir answers the Ambassador. "You are free to depart these lands, under guard. The Council will send its correspondance to arrange the details."
[Yildirim(#24191)]
"Excellent."
Then to the group, "Lords, Ladies," and Yildirim finds his seat and waits for the hall to clear.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
The Gondorians make their way out one by one, save the younger Bragollach, who watches the Haradrim intently. And the Haradrim, who looks only in the direction of the Scouts and Rangers, as they too slowly make their way out, one by one.
[Yildirim(#24191)]
Soon after, the Hall is empty.
