(Archive) Cranth\'s Funeral

*Note - log supplied by Rorgan*

Market Square(#17639Rno)

The splendors of the Market of Pelargir. Traders and merchants from all over the world are known here, frequent travelers of the seas and plains, their wares delight the eye and dazzle the senses. Wooden stalls of all sizes lie empty as the merchant have all cleaned up and retired for the evening. The light of the moon reflects off the central fountain, the small, darker, finely-dressed woman selling them smiling at you as she attends to one of the daughters of the aristocratic lords of the countryside. During the day, Perfumes, cosmetics, tapestries, armors, weapons, wines and liqueurs, all is available here. Even livestock -everything from cows and sheep, to the sturdy draft horses of the Northern provinces and the speedy, rangier ones of the south - stand, ready to be sold, in the far southern end of this immensely expansive square.

Contents:

Andring

Forhaim

Mardamir

Galdorim

Erinhaim

Gaelas

Obvious exits:

Torch Shoppe , Anduin Lane , Ringlo Road , and Gilrain Street

[Market Square(#17639)->Rorgan] The crowd parts suddenly and you are pulled backwards into it as a fine lord and his entourage ride through the market, their horses\' calls answered by those tethered along the edge, and their bridles and saddles jingling and creaking.

Gaelas smiles kindly at the two \" nae, do not call me your Lord. I lead know one, just help in my own ways. I am sorry not to have greeted you in Westron, I truly love the tongue of edhels and mostly speak it. Though those are in times of warning and foretelling.\" He places his staff infront of him and leans on it \"So Gentlemen what do we speak of.\"(re)

Mardamir runs a hand through his damp hair, and shakes his head, \"Say nothing of it, friend.\", he answers first the man that has approached them, carrying a staff. \"We speak of events not three days past, which if you will hardly have been able to hear of if you were not indeed here to witness.\" And then he turns back to Galdorim, \"They say he was not and I trust that those Lords of Gondor that were there that day are wise in these things, for I am not.\" His feet shift across the cobbles of the square and he draws in a weary breath, \"But these same Lords now beckon us south to Dol Amroth for celebrations and contests.\", he says on, sounding more than distraught. \"After what has happened here?\", his question not meant to be answered by the Commander, \"Perhaps it is a thing well time and the better to distract us from such ill thoughts, still...\", and he falls away silent again. His grey gaze picks across the square, passing over the tents that glow in the night with their lights within, \"Galdorim.\", he says, turning back, \"The hour is late and I should be abed for I have slept little in these last days and tomorrow...\", he sighs, \"Tomorrow I go south.\" Nodding once to Galdorim and once to the man, Gaelas, \"I beg leave of you.\"

[<#22020>] Galdorim nods hs head gravely. \'The fare will be good to raise the spirits of the people of Gondor after an event like t his.\' He looks to Gaelas and chuckles. \'It is not a tongue foreign to myself nor Mardamir here, so there is none to be rude to.\' His gaze looks back to his friend and nod as he tries to speak the farewell that he tried to teach him. \" May **** ***** ****** **** and **** ***** fly ********, my friend.\"

Emerging from the tents of the healers comes a tall man, and many give way at his passing, for he still wears the same scorched and bedraggled clothes of three nights prior. Tall he is, and with greying-blonde hair, and he comes with both the stench of burned flesh and a proud grace that lends a lordly air to his walk. Though his tabbard is stripped of all rank and insignia, the tall man walks as if a great Captain among men, his left hand resting idly upon the hilt of the sword at his hip.

So comes Rorgan, not seen for three days, save by the healers and their ilk, for it is asleep that he has been, or so the word has travled.

[<#28476>] Gaelas nods to Galdorim\" Thank you, it is easier for me to speak at times. mostly times like this.\" He sighs and looks into the sky letting the rain hi his face \" I have been healing those foolish enough not to listen. When I heard tale of this King, if you may call him that. I was wary, being a Scholar I red things andstudy things, such as the sky and times the stars. Things were not right for his arrival, and I ******** he was a false leader yet I was consisdered a fool. Now when the wyrm came I saw this in the sky as well and wished they had listen.\" He looks to Galdorim and chuckles \" Where are my mannars. I am Gaelas Nimothan, Healer, Scholar and sometimes what evil things call me. a \'seer\' though I do not see things. I just tell the truth.\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)] And from the smoke that has seem to cling about the buildings here, like a mourning shroud for the streets of Pelargir, Erinhaim emerges. Tall and fell, a Lord of Doom to bring ofrth answers from those who have passed it\'s secretet gates never to return. Dark is his raiment, the colors of the Tower that stands defiant to the East and like the spire of Mindolluin he reaches upward with his lofty form. His head is topped with hoary grey and his dark eyes speak with the power granted him by age and long experience.

For him the crowd parts also, but not as one would in respect of office. This man\'s mountainous form is what commands, his majestic form a mantle that plows the sea of many people like the keel of some great ship.

Mardamir takes a step backward and cants his head once more to the two men after Gaelas has finished speaking, \"Well met Gaelas.\", he replies though he says naught again about the day nights since. Looking to the Commander, he says, \"You speak true, Galdorim, I shall try to take your words to heart. I hope to find you in the South.\", he says, attempting a smile. \"Good night to you both.\" With that he has turned away, making his way slowly toward the darkened street that runs toward the southern reaches of the city.

[Colanthor(#6578)] Coming up the street, whistling what may once have been a tune, Colanthor slows to a stop as he sees Rorgan. He stops whistling abruptly, straightens up a little, and makes his way around until he is standing half a dozen yards behind the man.

The mountainous forms of both his brother and the Commander are easy for the tall Captain to spot, and though he bears before him rank odours and not the laurels of his rank, it is toward his brother that he first moves, nodding toward where Galdorim is spied also towering above the crowd.

Galdorim looks to Gaelas as he revert to the speach of elves. \"Well met, Gaelas Nimothan.\" He chuckles as he sees the emergance of Rorgan and Erinhaim. \"It looks like your House Lord and Steward are coming this way..\" He grins at Captain Rorgan and and offers him a courtious salute for the men. \"Good even, my friend...\"

[Forhaim(#13375)] Making his way through the crowd is a man-at-arms. He, too, has not survived the recent events unscathed. His uniform is charred, his skin is blistered, and a blood-stained bandage is wrapped about his head. He is tall and thin, unlike the Lords of Nimothan, but there is a look about him that is strikingly similar. Seeing the Captain, he hastens to him and addresses him, \"My Lord, I only recently heard the news of Cranth\'s death, and yet I have come here, hoping that you will tell me there has been a mistake and that he is but among the injured.\"

Returning the salute of the Commander with his customary nod, the Captain continues on his path, a route determined to intersect with that his brother travels. Long and ashen is Rorgan\'s face, and deliberate are his steps as they approach the Minister, his Lord.

[Erinhaim(#20260)] Other wraiths approach the minister from the mourning shadows of the weeping city. Dark clad like their Crow Lord and dour faced with quiet voices. He nods as th whsiper him what secrets they have gathered, pressing into his heavy hands a scroll.

His lined faced grows harder still, like molten lava falling into water to glower amongst thwaves and there turn black as deepest granite.

And the crowd rolls past him, still cleft assunder by his heavy presence. A lonely mountain in a storm of tears, his facade is buffetted by the mourning winds of wailing women, but he is unmoved. The Crow Lord Erinhaim awaits what weary news will press his heart this day.

[<#28476>] Gaelas turning to see his cousin, who he knows of and Rorgan also of who he knows of. shrugging somewhat thinking of the irony of his family \" Ahh cousins. Greetings, I am glad to see you both alive and well. I told you as I told everyone else , but this time my words were not headed, me thinks next time you do not mistake my words of those of a fool.\" he smiles and turns back to Galdorim \" Sadly this is not good news I bring to him unles Captian Rorgan speaks to him first. Cranth of our house met his doom to the dragon. I myself saw it and it brought tears to my eyes. One of the only who embraced me. Ah well he is in happines now and we must do is bury him. I need to find of when that will be.\"

Placing a hand on the young guardsman\'s shoulder, Rorgan turns him in the direction he now faces, yet only one word falls past his lips to the man, \"Come.\"

Then taking the final steps toward his brother, the carven features of Rorgan behold the dark raiment of the approaching Lord, and finally, offering the man a half-bow, he speaks again, his voice flat, \"Seek I your council, brother.\" Then again the stony silence decends about Rorgan, the stench of his body leaving a wake of empty space behind him for a brief moment. To his cousin scholar, he speaks not, but gives a wary shake of his head, as if in warning of a coming storm.

[Erinhaim(#20260)] \"You have it, brother.\" Speaks the dour Lord in his crow\'s raimentErinhaim\'s deep voice echoes like the voices of the dead this day. For it\'s clarion timber has been dulled by weary excercise and the looming clouds dampen all the air to the rich sounds beneeath them.

His dark eyes take in the scene once more. Finally, the veteran of many wars nods his head in greating to the worthies of his house.

[Forhaim(#13375)] The guardsman absorbs Gaelas\' news mutely, with a nod. Allowing the catain to direct his steps, he follows, grim-faced.

The voices of the dead... Certainly now they echo about this place now like no other. Yet it is of the dead that Rorgan must speak, and once he is invited to speak, he does so slowly, moderating the doom that he now decrees, \"Our young cousin, Cranth, stood at my side when the Dragon struck down the archers. He did not survive the flames. His body I had placed in a cellar for safe-keeping, until we could gather Nimothan from the reaches of the city and give the poor lad a proper funerary dirge.\" Still does the voice of Rorgan remain flat, delivering a matter of state to his superrior.

But the crowd that hears the proclamation begins to murmer, for they now see that the man who delivers the news is the one who cried his own defiance toward the fire-breather upon learning of his kinsman\'s misfortune. The man who would have given his life to allow the Steward\'s son and the Prince their own escape, as he strode forth from the flames that consumed the young guardsman and so many of his companions. Then they fall to silence, awaiting Lord Crow\'s response to this bit of news.

Gaelas makes his way to his Cousins, knowing of the news, having sttod there grimfaced, anger boiling over on his features that day, to see one of his favorite cousins die. Curse those he did and they stared at him as they alswyas had before when he spoke. He looks to Erinhaim\'s face to see what is going to be done and said

[Faengor(#18480)] Silent mutterings come from a small table in a front of the Tent. Faengor, who has recently been restored in rank is silently seated at the table on a small chair, writing on a parchement with only the faint light of a candle to help him in his endeavour. Next to him stands a Man-at-Arms with who is continually whispering and several other Guards are running up and down continually. Every now and then he will turn to the parchement toscribble a few words on it with his gracious handwriting.

\"The Messenger of the raven Company is dead?! Cranth? You can\'t be serious Angalad! I saw him with my own eyes in the captain\'s hands! He was hurt, but he survived!\"

The Man-at-Arms shakes his head sadly, \"I\'m afraid you\'re mistaken Sergeant, I saw his charred body with my own eyes.\"

Faengor curses softly under his breath before dismissing the Man-at-Arms with a brisk wave of his hand, before returning to his parchement, scribbling something on it with angered movements. Then he raises from his seat, his eyes searching around the room.

[Erinhaim(#20260)] \"It is a great sorrow that fills the aged hearts of those who lay to rest one much younger than ourselves.\" Erinhaim says softly. His heavy hand raises up to grasp the shoulder of his brother Steward. He nods, a strong figurefacing a storm of grief. \"He died with honor, following orders he was given in service to his lord. He shall never be forgotten.\"

His voice resonnates his purpose it is not an oath so lightly given as some are wont to.

[Colanthor(#6578)] Stepping a little closer to his Captain, Colanthor\'s visage is both pained and concerned. He slips out to one side hoping that the Captain recognizes his presence.

\"Then we shall do as Honor decrees, my brother,\" replies the Captain in equally soft tones.

Turning, then toward his adjutant, he says, \"Colanthor, send forth the messengers to gather all of house Nimothan and those that knew the Man-at-Arms Cranth of Nimothan to the NorthWestern Watch. There shall our cousin be laid in state, and shall we all pay our final respects to him.\"

\"Then, my brother, we shall follow the traditions of our house, and bury him in secret, with no marker or mound, remembering him in our hearts and in the commission of a remembrance to be placed in the great hall of Barad Nimothan.\"

[<#28476>] Gaelas turns after hearing this and heads his way to the Seargent\'s tent. \" Faengor. I need to talk with you.\" he says apon entering and looking down to his younger. \" news do I bring. sadness plagues our house today.\" His face grim as before , but with a single tear comming from his eyes

[Colanthor(#6578)] Nodding to his Captain, Colanthor takes three steps back, and then turns and trots off. He stops a few yeards away... out of earshot. He speaks with a few men, gesturing sharply. The men head off at a quick pace and Colanthor turns back. Watching Rorgan, he slowly works his way back to where he can hear further commands from his lord. Forhaim

[Erinhaim(#20260)] \"We were not born to this tradition as he was and so \'tis fitting that we leave him to what ancient ways he knew.\" Says Erinhaim. \"Let it be so.\"

\"Then, if you will forgive me, brother, I am in dire need of a bath and a fresh uniform,\" Rorgan replies with a bow, turning now and bellowing right over the top of Colanthor\'s head, \"COLANTHOR!!\" then he looks down, and sees the man, \"Go forth to Hero\'s and bid them make ready a bath in my room there. Lay out my formal uniform and make ready for my coming.\"

[Faengor(#18480)] Silently, Faengor\'s grim eyes fall upon Gaelas as he enters, gazing at him silently with pensive eyes for several moments, with his sealed lips curled into a grim curl. Yet he does not respond to Gaelas\' words, instead he turns his back to him, gazing down at the parchement that still lies on the table in front of him. For several moments he remains gazing at the parchement in front of him with draery eyes, his back turned to the seer. Then he turns, grabbing the parchement and giving it to Gaelas,

\"I know about Cranth,\" he speaks with a saddened voice, \"A Man-at-Arms told me when I was assembling the list of casualties,\" he sighs, \"I thought rorgan had saved him.\"

[<#28476>] Gaelas Not used to speaking westron like his younger he cannot express the words right now. he holds the parchment and goes to put it to a candle \" May he be recieved into Paradise. He listened to me Faengor! He listened to me! I told of this day and you all scoffed, but he listened. And that makes it more all the harder to bear.\"

\"Bland food is better than starvation, Colanthor,\" replies the Captain with the beginnings of a smile upon his lips. \"I was fed by the healers. A condition of my release.\"

[Colanthor(#6578)] A wry grin crosses Colanthor\'s lips and he says \"Aye. then I will find a room for you near the husk of the Inn, and draw you a bath...even if I needs carry the water myself. I\'ll leave word that you be directed immediately to where you are billeted. And I believe I have an extra uniform of yours in with mine...if I cant find your baggage mule.\"

[Faengor(#18480)] \"It\'s not a prediction anyone wanted to hear Gaelas, but it came true.\" Faengor sighs as he looks at Gaelas with empty eyes, the same grim and dreary curl in his lips. Finally his eyes turn to the flaps of the tent in an attempt to peer outside the tent, \"Do you know the whereabouts of Rorgan or Erinhaim?\"

[<#28476>] Gaelas nods and points with his staff to the men standing several paces away \" Out there. Talking of the same thing young blood.\"

\"Very well, then, Colanthor,\" replies Rorgan, frowning slightly and shaking his head, \"Get on with it, then, and send word to me of where I may find you. I know where the mule and Ardanne should be, if that particular stable is still standing.\"

[Faengor(#18480)] Faengor inclines his head briskly to Gaelas, glancing at him oncemore with his dreary eyes, before turning around and exiting the small tent with quick feet, his eyes searching for Rorgan and Erinhaim.

[Colanthor(#6578)] Nodding curtly, Colanthor says \"As you wish, Milord\" He turns and trots off at a quick pace.

--------------------------------------------

Northwest Watch, Courtyard(#20759Rnt)

A high stone wall made of darker and lighter colored granite surrounds this spacious courtyard. A few open barrels of water stand around the edges, away from the greenswards where off-duty members of the Watch practice their swordsmanship. To the north lies a low outbuilding, jutting from the Watch\'s northern wall - the garrison quarters, from which laughing watchmen walk to and from, helms under their arms, at ease. To the northwest, however, rises the tower of the Northwest Watch proper. With the pale light of the moon, you can see the dark figures of watchmen there, not so casual or calm. Instead, they patrol the tower\'s battlements with grim faces and tight grips on their weapons, gazing ever eastward towards the black wall of the Ephel Duath. High above the tower, flapping in the breeze, is the shadowed pennon of the city of Pelargir.

Obvious exits:

Training Grounds leads to Northwest Watch, Training Grounds.

South leads to Sirith Way.

Gaolkeep leads to Gaolkeep, Main Office.

Outbuilding leads to Northwest Watch, Watch Quarters.

East leads to Ringlo Road, West End.

[Erinhaim(#20260)] The clouds still weep as if they pity the mourning hearts of the grave faced men who mourn their fallen brother. No women are amongst them, hereFor this is one who fell by the Dragon, to the last faithful to the orders of his Lord. They wait for him, for his body has yet to march the long streets from his dying place to here in laid beneath the watcful gaze of thesee his kinsmen.

Erinhaim stands here, dor, black, his head almost higher amongst the clouds, or so it seems fo rhis hoary streaks of hair. He raises up his large hands as if to ask for quiet amogst the quiet croud. His dour voice proclaimes, \"We come for Cranth, son of the Nimothan, to be among us. Let him great his Lord for his last time. Doom is waiting for the oathkeeper.\"

The echoes of slow steps build as round a corner come eight men bearing a beir upon their shoulders, and a ninth, marking his half-time march to the fore.

Along one side of the bier are the cousins of the deceased, Forhaim, Faengor, and Gaelas, along with Pergond.

For his part, Rorgan leads the procession forward and into the square of the Watch grounds, tall and sober, features seemingly carved from the same stones as the surrounding walls. Stately of pace and proud, he leads his kinsman on this, his final audience with his Lord.

High atop the bier lies the body of Cranth of Nimothan. Cleaned. Purified. Resting with dignity as his bearers make their slow progression toward the looming Lord Nimothan. Then, as the bier is lowered into place upon a stand set before the Lord, it becomes plain for all to see that the young man is dressed in a fine uniform of black, bearing a tabbard and shield both emblazoned with the white tree of Gondor, and from his shoulder angles the single silver and black braid of a Corporal in the Minas Tirith Guard.

\" Your messenger has come, Lord Nimothan,\" announces Captain Rorgan in tones that echo from the stones in their slow way. \" He has fulfilled his Oath to the World, to Gondor, to Nimothan, and to each of his Kinsmen. So let it be said in all the halls of all the lands. Yea, though we come now for a final meeting, let it not be a grevious one, for in the hearts and annals of Nimothan our kinsman shall live on, his life spent in just cause, and in accordance with the oaths he had taken. Cranth of Nimothan comes, My Lord. He is here, before you now.\"

[<#28476>] Gaelas watches ahead of him moving slowly and solemly. Keeping the Grim faced expressions of the Nimothans as all do during any time of grief. From his white eyes a single tear rolls odwn each cheak. he quietly says to his dead cousin. \" Farewell Cranth. May you be taken into paradise in open arms. I will see you there someday..\" he stops talking and looks back up, his hood pulled over his head

[<#20260>] \" I accept my messenger in faith and here to him recieve a dispatch that shall pass the curtain of our Doom with him.\" Erinhaim holds aloft his hand, a silver scroll sheath glinting in the dim sun as the rain washes down, like tears from heaven. Silently, the old lord places the shining object on the body. Standing back he bows his head and rises slowly from it. His dark eyes bore into the corpse. \" For let my words ring far and wide amongst those that came before. We still honor you, our kinsmen. And may we all pass from this world as this one did, in service to our felows and duty to our Steward.\"

Falling silent, he stands back and speaks no more. The clouds have come to hang their wreaths about him. And the mist is his dark cloaks\' mantle and the rain are the hard man\'s tears.

[Faengor(#18480)] Silently the bier is put down by the pall-bearers and once such is done Faengor takes a step sideways, clenching his hands together as he gazes pale in front of him, a dreary glance in his eyes. His lips are perched together and curled in the same grim curl as always, yet a glint of sadness can easily be detected in them. Not a word does he speak as he recalls his memories of Cranth.

[Forhaim(#13375)] Standing still, and listening to the pronouncement of Lord Erinhaim, Forhaim ponders how lucky he is to be among the living. His thoughts drift to his wife and children... The look of mischief that normally is found upon his face has long since departed, replaced by a grim expression that appears to be etched in stone. Forhaim wonders when he will be able to smile again. So many good friends lost...

Then does the Captain speak again, raising his voice still in the slow solemn tones and in the tongue of the formal speech, \" So now we lay you rest, young cousin. But not without a sword at your hand.\" Then does the Captain draw forth his own blade and lay it on the bier with the body of Cranth, in the crook of his right arm. He then looks into the crowd of gathered men, \" We have come to honor the passing of a brave and honorable man. Let all who stand now before him say their peace so that he may be laid down in his final rest.\"

[<#28476>] Gaelas steps forth, hood still over his head. \" Cranht, was a brave an honorable man! He was sworn to Family, Honor and Duty! He was and still will be my favorite cousin! For he listened when oters wouldn\'t! He did the honorable when others sought out to murder! He spoke up for the defenseless!. And he made the ultimate sacrifec, so tohers may live!\" He stops and pulls out a small parchment, scribbled over both sides. \" This is a letter he wrote to me once, a long time ago. He asked for wisdom. I wrote on it to give it back to him, ubt now I am ashamed for he had more than I do now!. Cranth, may you be taken into Paradise, as an honorable man!\" With that he layst the parchment onto the body and stapes back

[+POLL] Announcement: Rorgan(#19834) has changed the poll to: R.I.P. Cranth: TA 2996-TA 3020

[<#18480>] A single Loud Thud resounds from Faengors hard military boots as he takes a step forward, turning his gaze to Cranth, his dreary and saddened eyes falling over the fallen Corporal. For moments does he gaze at him in silence, his lips quivering as he searches for words. Finally he raises his voice, \" A Nimothan you are Corporal Cranth and together with us all you were raised at Barad Nimothan. You have laughed with us, you have studied with us and you have fought with us, bravely and with honour like a true Nimothan. I have little to present to you except this.\"

T Silently faengor aproaches Cranth and with grim eyes he gazes at him for several moments before reaching for his own neck and untying the medalion around his neck, showing the medallion with the snorting head of a ram for all to see.

T \" This medallion I confine to you Cranth, let it always remind you of your heritage.\" he speaks and then he places the medallion near his heart.

Striding forward now, the Steward of Barad Nimothan, on cue from his older brother signals the pall bearers to take up their burden once more, and he says in the clear tones that all have heard him speak with this night, \" We now take our fellow to his final resting place, in accordance with our own traditions. Let none except those who bear the burden of this weight come. None shall learn of his final resting place from those of us who do this duty or from any other. Even as this White Ram passes from us, so shall another be born to take his place. So shall it be for each and all of us in time. We go now, to do this man the honor of our own Oaths. May the peace of the One be with you all.\"

Then the bearers move forward once again, Rorgan leading their way in the same half-time march that brought the body and bier into the NorthWest Watch. Egressing in slow procession, as the solemn voices begin to rise behind them.

As the nine plus their burden pass through the streets, the silence of respect for their solemn duty flows along with them, until, passing through the gate and into the lands beyond, just as their charge has already done, they come to some secreted place and each lend a hand in the digging and covering of their kinsman, carefully replacing the sod over the top of his grave so that not a mark is made from his passing.