(Archive) Brothers — The Red Book of Westmarch

Elendor - Tuesday, May 09, 2000, 11:33 PM

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

*Note - log begins with Rp in progress*

[Rorgan(#19834)]

Nodding and turning from his selected path to that which has been appointed to him, Rorgan intones, \"Aye, My Lord.\" as he makes for the indicated seat. Then taking cup in hand, he takes a drink, motioning to the servant and speaking in a soft voice, \"Make the next one water, if you please, and for the Sergeant as well.\" Then the Commander leans back against the back of his chair, relaxing as much as he can with his left arm in a sling and a white bandage wrapped about his head.

[Rorgan(#19834)]

\"Thank you, My Lord,\" Rorgan nods toward Denethor, and falls silent in wait of the presentaion to come.

Denethor says, \"Ah, welcome Erinhaim,\" says the Steward. \"Your hale form does you credit, being so far abroad. Word has come to us that you wish to present a song to do this city honour. Since I had always thought of you as a man of deeds it would bring pleasure for me to hear what you would.\"\"

Shadows gather about his brow like a somber crown as Erinhaim begins to speak. His voice rings sollemnly with the memories of deep wounds and heavy labors. All the price of being left forgotten in the South.

\"For many years I toiled in the Haradwaith, with many of my countrymen held captive,\" says Erinhaim, his voice echoing from the dark stone walls like the memory of thunder. \"Great was our sadness, for in the hearts of the Southron foe is much cruelty and their memory runs deep. They have not forgotten our Kinstrife nor the penalties we gave them in times long past.\" The tall man\'s dark eyes look upon the stones beneath him, their light is veiled.

\"Long before my leagure was raised and my chains broken, I was made to pull the oars for the Haradrim and hard were my days and those of my fellows,\" he holds his wrists before him, rubbing them unwittingly with memory. \"When the pain was greatest in our hearts and evil lingered nearest, I took to the singing of this song. This now, will I sing for you.\"

His deep voice he lifts up, at first rumbling as he begins to sing to a ponderous rhythum. It speaks with the heavy beat of the ship drum and the splash of oars into the waves. It speaks of thankless labors in a hopeless night. It speaks of longing.

On dark eaves of an Autumn day,

A raven-tressed maid came my way.

Her arms in silver richly clad

And on Her lips were songs so sad,

On dark eaves of an Autumn day.

She spoke of Kings and Shadows fey,

And of cold hearths and empty halls,

Of wind-born fears and fallen walls,

And roads Hope follows none else may,

On dark eaves of an Autumn day.

How great Her beauty none may say.

Except myself who there was dared

For in that hour were stars rare

As Her voice lingered, twilight-made,

On dark eaves of an Autumn day.

Her song still held me in its sway.

I listened as She sang unto the West,

Of tall, proud men and isles blessed,

And of the Stones that \'round Her lay,

On dark eaves of an Autumn day.

She sang of letting duty stray

Of greater deeds now writ in lore

When first He wrought His Bane of yore,

Though never was he then afraid,

On dark eaves of an Autumn day.

My heart was cleft to my dismay.

If from the shadows I emerged,

And to Her silence I did urge,

She might then bid me go away

On dark eaves of an Autumn day.

My fears, they could not keep me bayed.

For in me longing burned withal

Then to Her did I gently call

And quietly She answered n\'aye,

On dark eaves of an Autumn day.

On dark eaves of an Autumn day,

I slowly shut my eyes of grey.

And in my breast my heart was glad

For on that night what dreams I had,

On dark eaves of an Autumn day.

As the last note leaves his lips, Erinhaim falls silent. The echoes of his deep voice linger in the shadows of the hall. There they whisper to themselves as the Kings stand ever watchful. The tall and grey haired man stands quiet and his eyes shine bright beneath his weather-beaten brow.

[Icarus(#30063)]

Following the Commander, Icarus walks towards one of the chairs and slowly begins to sit. A grimace appears on his face as some pressure is put upon his injured shoulder. As a reflex, he brings his right arm upon it, although not puting any pressure on the wound. Slightly glancing at it, he notices the red dot upon the white bandages getting ever bigger. Ignoring it for now, he takes a piece of bread, and focuses his look upon Erinhaim, listening carefully to the song.

Denethor rises from his seat and then holding his fist at his chest he says, \"I Denethor, son of Ecthelion salute you. I am touched by your own sorrows, so gravely written in your face. Little thought might one think, that a ruler might give the governed in days of doubt, but word has travelled through the aisles of stone and by the by-ways to reach my ears. Not only do you profess such a well devouted innocence in your song, mired by the pains of war, but in it has born you to new wisdom.\"

\"I have need of such folk,\" says the Steward, \"Who might serve me in the needs of Gondor. A man who would not shrink at toil for what is good. Would you accept this offer Erinhaim of Gondor and serve the Tower at home and abroad in greater capacity then thou doest now?\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

Even as Erinhaim\'s song begins to grow and envelop the room, Rorgan begins to smile, unconsciously rocking to the tempo of the song. As it progresses and grows, the Commander nods along, and even as it finishes, Rorgan remains seated in silence.

At the Steward\'s salute to Erinhaim, Rorgan, too takes to his feet, waiting in silence for the Scout\'s reply...

[Erinhaim(#20260)]

There is a heaviness upon the wizened soldier\'s brow as if the thoughts sit there and are girt about with stones and iron chains. Indeed in sorrows is his visaged etched, but also peace, for being not within the reach of sorrows is his heart now unencumbered. Finally, ht bows his hoary head, his dark eyes upon the dias to the Throne, now long absent from the footfalls of the fallen Kings.

\"My Lord... I would greatly offer up my life to you again as I have ever and anon to both your kin and self.\" He looks up and with dark eyes filled with light, he answers, \"And no less to Gondor, land of my birth, and to the stones that have long housed me, and to the people that from those stones were born, will I serve withal.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

When these words have left the lips of Erinhaim, Rorgan places the cup from which he had been drinking upon his seat and begins to slap his thigh with his right hand, raising his own voice in a lusty, \"Hear! Hear!\" beaming brightly at the fortunes of his fellow.

Denethor nods gravely, \"So be it. You shall be a Minister of the Tower, and as such, you will act by my authority here and abroad to enforce the execution of our laws, be it in Anorien, Rohan, Lebennin, Lossarnarch, Belfalas, Anfalas, Lamedon, Pinath Gelin, Morthond or yea, even Andrast. Tell me, what is thy father\'s name?\"

[Erinhaim(#20260)]

A sollemn bow is offered at this term of service, silently assenting to all that is asked of him. However, when the question of his father is now raised, doubt comes into his eyes. He frowns and for long moment he makes no answer.

Finally, he says, \"My Lord... wishes to knwo by whom I was fathered or by whom I was raised?\"

[Denethor(#29482)] \"Both,\" says Denethor gravely, \"There have been strange portents of late.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

Retaking both his seat and his cup, Rorgan takes a sip from the cup and watches intently the proceedings between the Steward and his newly-appointed minister.

[Erinhaim(#20260)]

\"The father that I knew was my mother\'s father, lord... Huainrom the Old, Lord of Numanathfirith, now a house no longer,\" This answer comes easily enough, but then a silence comes to the veteran\'s lips. He begins, \"My true father... he who sired me...\" then falters. The dark eyes beneath their charcoal brows take on a far off look. Peering into the mists back through the many decades when he was young, before the terror of the Southrons and the hidden works in the woods of old.

\"MY mother rarely spoke of him... Such was the sorrow that he cast upon her heart. But... Often would she say that he was called Yeorl and was a Rohirrim.\" His frown is one of puzzlement and he looks ashamed. Yet, he stands tall before his Lord and tries to make his pride stand forth.

Denethor narrows his eyes for a moment and looks meaningfully at Rorgan.

Rorgan says, \"What!?\" exclaims the Commander as he fairly jumps again to his feet, nearly spilling drink in the process.\"

Denethor nods and says to Rorgan, \"Come forth Rorgan son of Yeorl. Have speech with thy brother.\"

Erinhaim turns to look at the out burst, following Denethor\'s gaze. Greater is the furrow on the elder\'s brows as Rorgan is called forth as his brother.

[Rorgan(#19834)]

Blinking and looking from the Steward to Erinhiam and back again, Rorgan finally does step forward, his feet dragging a little on the stones of the floor. \"Long enough now have I called you friend, Erinhaim, but never would I ...\" he shakes his head then, casting his eyes toward the floor, and then he follows his eyes, kneeling before the Minister.

\"I beg your forgiveness for the dishonour our father has laid upon both of us,\" Rorgan murmers.

[Rorgan(#19834)]

Looking up now, in view of both Erinhaim and the Steward, and to fill the silence, Rorgan says, \"Yeorl was not the name given to our father at birth, but that of Urumir, the dark star of Gaurdhagnir, a house that has now passed as well. He took the name Yeorl when he did live among the Rohirrim for a time and kept it when that life appealed to him more than the life he had left behind upon the death of our grandfather. This much he has told me in truth.\"

[Denethor(#29482)]

\"A week ago,\" says Denethor, \"a washerwoman called for me and so great was her plea that I could not deny it. Why did she call me? For she told me a tale: How long ago, Urumir, the son of Nodroth was secreted away from his home in fear from the jealousies of the Noble Houses. As it came to pass, this boy was placed in a raft, upon the River Anduin and was picked up to be raised by others. That boy was of course your father, and she said this to me as a dying confession, thinking her soul be damned by Mandos. However, to prove her claim, she said that the son of Nodroth would bear on him a single tattoo, that of a Ram on his chest toward the left side.\" Denethor nods gravely, \"Now, Urumir must be brought before me, for if this is the case, then there is work yet to do. For Numandil, the younger son of Nodroth is abroad with Naerdil, his nephew. Yet in that place I have sent forth what I could gather, and this I am sure, that if by fate Urumir bears this mark, then he is by right, the Lord of the Nimothan of Anorien, the House of the White Ram.\"

[Denethor(#29482)]

Erinhaim has placed his hand upon his new found brother\'s head as Rorgan bows before him. He looks with doubts deep beneath the surface of his eyes, but listens silent as Denethor addresses them. He bows his head gravely and removes his hand form Rorgan\'s head. \"Rise my brother... No father who could sire such a son could make dishonor in this world.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

Regaining his feet, Rorgan looks first to Erinhaim, saying in reply, \"Nay, nor could one who has made such a son as yourself.\"

Then he looks toward the Steward, \"Ere the Ravens and the Silver Ship were ordered to Osgiliath, My Lord, Yeor.. Urumir left upon a journey to Pelargir to purchase silks from a merchant there. Word of his return has not reached my ears, but the Guild expects his return any day.\"

Denethor nods slowly and says, \"Then go to your wars. I shall have word sent to Pelargir to fetch him to me.\" Denethor then says slowly, \"In either case, I will not now grant Urumir the Lordship of the Nimothan without the consent of Numandil, but the truth must be known.\"

Denethor looks to Erinhaim, \"Yet Erinhaim, you will need a few days to

be accustomed with your duties. After that, you may begin your work.\"

[Rorgan(#19834)]

\"Aye, My Lord,\" Rorgan says, pulling an about-face and beginning to make his way toward the exits of the hall with a simple motion for the Sergeant to follow.

[Erinhaim(#20260)]

\"Then the secret will remain untold...\" Erinhaim shakes his head. There is a wan smile on his lips. Silently, he bows his head to Denethor\'s pronouncement.

Yet, a moment does not pass before he offers up, as Rorgan leaves, \"Aye, my Lord... But will it mean should Urumir be judged the heir?\"

Denethor nods slowly, \"It shall, lest the laws of the House preclude that.\"

[Icarus(#30063)]

Putting his piece of bread upon the table, Icarus gets up from his chair and follows the Commander.

[Erinhaim(#20260)]

\"Then the secret will remain untold...\" Erinhaim shakes his head. There is a wan smile on his lips. Silently, he bows his head to Denethor\'s pronouncement.

Yet, a moment does not pass before he offers up, as Rorgan leaves, \"Aye, my Lord... But what will it mean should Urumir be judged the heir?\"

Denethor nods slowly, \"It shall, lest the laws of the House preclude that.\"

Erinhaim nods slowly in his turn and then looks up. His voice is grave, \"And for us? My brother and myself?\"

Denethor says grimly, \"If this charge is true, then you may by right come into the Noble House of the Nimothan. Yet I would not strip Numandil of his title until all is done.\"

Erinhaim nods quietly as this fact sinks in. He looks at the silent faces of the Kings that line the hall. \"Never could I have foreseen it.\"

Denethor nods, \"Nor can many Men forsee what shall happen in their time. Go now to rest and then come to me for your first duties.\"