(Archive) Haradrim Seek Herbs

March 21, 2000

The great harbor of Dol Amroth glistens in the Autumn pre-afternoon, awash with the hustle and bustle of a teeming trade, even this late into the season. Separate from the shipyards and the naval vessels, merchantmen crowd around the trade docks, furling and unfurling sail in what would appear to be a state of confusion to all but the best-trained eyes. The clear day and bright sun still bring many of the men to work barechested, singing raunchy tunes as they go about the heavier work of loading and unloading the merchant vessels once they have properly heaved to.

Hoarse shouts rise above the din as some unfortunate longshoremen nearly upset the winches and spill a rather large crate into the bay. It is hardly noticed by the men of the other ships as they come and go on their own business, but yet the hue and cry followed by loud resounding curses in a smattering of different languages is notable even far into the bay.

Emerging from the woods to the East of the harbor of Dol Amroth is Lady Ivriniel, the sister of Imrahil. Dressed in a man\'s shirt, wearing breeches and a soft pair of kid leather gloves. A bow is slung over the right shoulder of the woman as she and those that accompany her exit the thick brush of the forest. The sound of their excited voices ring through the crisp salt air as they talk about the game swinging from a pole carefully balanced between the shoulders of two of the men. The newly shorn hair of the Princess, cut to rid herself of the debasement of the Black Captain, Khazamr, blows lightly in the warm breeze.

On the trail of the Princess are the finest defenders of Gondor -- silver mail and shining fair. These are the Swan Knights of Gondor, protectors of justice, and serving right now as bodyguards of the Daughter of Adrahil. Ever ready to draw sword and shield in defence of their cause.

One amongst the wall of steel stands tall and proud -- He looks at their surroundings, assessing possible threats. Duty always comes first, especially in the presence of a Sister of Imrahil.

The arrival of another ship, even one unlookedfor, does not seem to cause a great difference in the activities upon the docks, for surely, with white sail and Gondorian colors fluttering in the cool breeze, this is not now one of the ships of the Southrons\' Dred Captain. Nay, not a single ship coming alone and bedecked as friend.

This is not to say, of course that such an arrival would go unnoticed. The Harbourmaster has taxes to collect, and goods to itemize ere each ship should leave the safety of the harbor. It is not the harbourmaster himself, but others that can be heard to be sent by him, among them a tall man with one wooden leg and a hook for a hand, that the master of the harbour hath reverently called Captain. It is this captain, long black hair bobbing as he makes his way out of the hurlyburley of the loading and unloading, and five others, who are sent toward the newly arriving ship afoot and along the shore.

Among those of the newly arived hunting party, stepping lightly amongst the group, eyes set about and focused upon passer bys, is yet one of the many knights of the Princess. A warm, heart filled smile rests upon his face as the group revelies in the great kill so recently made. A knight he may be, but by face and wear, he looks it not. Clad in leather armour, the bulge of the studded suite can be noted even beneath the baggy outer shirt and loose legged pants. His image is that of a farmer to be sure, his earth stained hands holding about his belt as he moves.

This Swan Knight of Gondor looks nothing like a knight at all, and yet, his relation to the group would not show differantly.

Relaxed and seemingly carefree after a day of shooting game, the Princess keeps stride along with the Swan Knights around her. These sworn men, ever in protection of Lady Ivriniel as she goes about her life. A smile curves in lips as she laughs and teases one of the Knights about his newly married status, the blush upon his face bringing much mirth to the group as they arrive closer to the harbor

Silvery grey orbs of the the noble woman, daughter of Adrahil, give note to the ships in the harbor. The recent renovations to the Courvellan, catching her eye as the desks glisten in the sunlight. The white furls of canvas on a new arrival gives her pause as a tiny boat is hoisted from the deck and cast into the water. Puzzlement mars her brow as she watches the figures scale down the hull into the small craft.

Anithraril clasps his hand to his breast, and salutes the approaching \'Knight\' as if they were akin. \"Hail Sir. I see you have decided to join us -- The more the better. The Sons of Castamir are decitful indeed, and would a hundred men wielding weapons of the old would be too few!\" He pauses as he sees the disembarkment.

The man walks ahead even as the odd group move, his furrowed brow becoming more serious admist the laughter of the consort.

Upon seeing the small craft go over the side of the newly-arriving vessel, the captain and the five pick up their pace, but the one-legged man can only go so fast. Soon he is waving his companions on with instructions to, \"Only bid them hold until I arrive. They will leave the harbor through the bottom ere the harbourmaster lets them slip in and out unheeded!\" The five carry on, breaking now into a run to cover the quarter mile or so to the edge of the Prince\'s hunting preserve in time to intercept the small craft as it comes ashore. None of these five are armed with more than the knives at their hips or short, fat cargo staunchions, yet a sword can be seen at the hip of the one-legged captain as he now makes his way toward the arriving longboat at a more stately pace.

The Soldier of Gondor walks ahead even as the odd group move, his furrowed brow becoming more serious admist the laughter of the consort.

Still do the five longshoremen outpace their \'captain\', drawing further and further ahead of him as the length of sand is crossed at a fairly good clip for the large men who are rather obviously not properly aclimated to long-distance running.

But still does the dark-clad figure of the one-legged captain approach in their wake, and now any watching eyes from the approaching longboat would be able to make out the contrast of the sash which holds his sword in rather unique fashion as he makes his not quite limping way toward the forest preserve, where it appears the longboat aims to land.

Standing with one hand raised to her brow to shade the sun from her eyes, the Princess watches the small boat with interest as it heads -not- in the direction of the safe harbor. The bustling sailors, merchants and vendors filling the area block her view for a few moments and she moves a few paces back towards the woods to keep her eye on this -interesting- vessel in the Bay of Belfalas.

The sound of a familiar voice reaches her voice with a string of muttered curses and she whirls around sharply to see the from of Adramir, looking much the worse for wear. A look of disapproval squints her eyes as she notes him reaching to catch himself. Her voice is harsh as she speaks to the Knight on her left, \"Go thither and see to the condition of my -newly- hired assistant.\", censure fills her voice.%r%rReminded of the game swinging from the poles by Rolian, she says with a bit of her normal pleasantry returning, \"We shall have a feast with the magnificent game from today\'s hunt. There is enough meat here to feed all of Dol Amroth.\"

The merry Swan Knight clicks his heels, and looks towards the drunken man. \"You need not approach to fathom the sway of your assistant your Highness.\" He nods to the other swan knights, taking his eyes away from the strange encounter between the sailors and the unknowns.

\"There good sir. How might you be today -- In perfect order I trust?\" Anithraril walks toward Adramir, and a frown crosses his face. \"Do I know you? You seem so familiar yet your manner and dress are so uncouth...\"

Finally do the five longshoremen break into a walk, now that they have reached the point of the beach most likely to be landed by the longboat as she is pushed toward the shore by the powerful oarsmen. Spreading out slightly, they stand in wait of either the arrival of the longboat or their \'captain\'.

Indeed does the one-legged man continue to make his own way at his own pace, deceptively fast for one who shows such obvious signs of the hard life that is sometimes lived upon the sea. The gleam of the noontime sun can be seen upon the hook he appears to carry... nay, as he draws closer, the hook is attached in place of a hand! \'Tis more than the weather that has beat itself in vain upon the tall captain, and though he is still some distance from his men, it is with almost certainty that those near to or in the forest preserve would be able to make out the distinctive features of the Retired Sea Captain Rorgomir as his one good leg churns the beach with the one of wood.

Adramir looks up as the Swan Knight approaches him from the hunting party and inhales deeply, \"Trust me, you have no desire to know me, sir Knight,\" he spits. His grey eyes smolder with contempt and his hand runs through his greasy black hair. \"If I were you, I\'d be more interested in the other parties which move in these woods. I\'m sure my mere presence here disgusts you at any rate.\"

\"That you should await the arrival of the Captain is his only wish,\" says one of the longshoremen in his gruff voice. Another without a shirt walks a short distance up the beach, and, seeing that their orders have now been carried out, takes a seat upon a large log or piece of driftwood. The other three spend little time marvelling at the arrivals, or making surreptitious inspections of them, simply content to mill about somewhat, as idle sailors will do.

The wait for the one-legged captain might indeed wear upon any shortened nerves residing in the longboat, but if any make any sound or motion to indicate their unrest, the captain makes no notice of it upon his arrival. Standing a silent moment, and with a glance at the longboat, Rorgomir flatly states, \"Any and all cargoes must be offloaded at the docks under the supervision of the Harbourmaster and with the aid of the guild of longshoremen.\"

Anithraril turns more and more curious at the words of the drunkard. He extends a govled hand -- and smiles. \"Nay, not so. For outward appearances can be decieving.\" He looks around and hesitates. \"Nevermind the occurances of sailors and merchants. Also would I prefer to brood over that -- but the Princess\' assistant is my cause now. You need something man: Stop drinking -- indeed it is a filthy habit!\"

\"But deeds make the man, not his failings.\" His hand reaches out... compassion.

The ever watchful eyes of the Sister of Imrahil scan the horizon and watch as the small vessel reaches the beach. Counting the figures on the beach she says outloud, to herself, \"Five longshoremen running to meet a vessel headed to the woods?\" Her footsteps move her closer to the woods, indicating to her guards to follow. The soft voice of the Princess speaks to her brave Swan Knights, \"Let us get a -closer- look at the happenings off the beach here. There have been reports of smugglers working off the coast of Edhellond, tis a perfect time to check out these ruffians. Draw your weapons and prepare to defend.\"

The Servant of Imrahil withdraws his hand. He shakes his head, and speaks not a word to the drunken man. Leaving him behind the Knight of Gondor follows in the footsteps of her Highness -- and he hears her call to arms.

He draws his sword, and flashes another glance at Adramir. Then the Knight is gone, and flanks his superior, blade unfurled.

Ready to Defend his Order and Duty.

Adramir nods his head slowly as the man leaves his side and looks in the direction that he heads in. Then slowly he turns around and moves away from the scene, into the woods. After he is out of sight he begins to move quickly through the woods, shadowing the movements of the princess\' party as they head toward the shore.

Ever steadily does the former hunting party make their way back to the woods, ducking behind brush along the way as one of the longshormen turn and glance towards them. The sun glinting off the shiny mail of the Knights is a hindrance to the secrecy of this little expedition, but does not stop them as they follow, nay, now lead the way with the Princess of Dol Amroth following in their wake. Two Swan Knights trail behind, steely eyes roving the countryside as they back up the party. The soft leather boots of Ivriniel leave nary a trace as they step lightly and quickly in their effort to take the group closer to this strange rendevous.

\"Now go, and get thy ship to yon docks!\" exclaims the captain, \"If you\'ve room in your longboat, I shall attend to the assistance of your pilot. We have no time to spare!\"

Arali again hugs the Captain, whispering a murmured, \"Thank you.\" She turns around, and with relief now clearly etched on her face, hurries back to her boat.

Arali climbs back into the boat, with the Gondorian Captain following closely behind her. \"Don\'t argue with me,\" she hisses to Vrael, \"We need to go back and land at the docks. Else they will think us smugglers and all of Gondor will be after us. I will explain once back at the ship.\"

Into the longboat goes the Gondorian Captain, waving the longshoremen back toward the docks. \"They were unsure of the channels, lads! I\'ll go help take her the rest of the way in,\" he calls. And these are the last words tall Rorgomir will speak to anyone for a long number of days.

Even as the longboat leaves, the party continues its trek ahead. As the boat shoves off, the mailed men cry and run ahead of the Princess. \"Away they go! And naught are the means to follow their road!\" Anithraril says as he approaches the shore. He lowers his sword, and looks back at Ivriniel, Princess of Dol Amroth, and shakes his head. \"What will she say now? Argue the ignorance of the Swan Order no doubt.\"

The Knight looks at his peers, and then again at the rowboat. He does not curse nor scream -- but simply gazes. Helpless to stop their flight.

Adramir moves toward the shore, trailing the path taken by the Knights though being sure to remain behind the rearguard and a bit off to the side. As the Knights approach the shore he slows down considerably. He simply sits and watches the carryings-on.

The fleet footsteps of the hunting party stop at the sandy shore, breathless and heaving with the exertion of their last sprint through the edge of the forest. A tiny twig, caught in the hair of the Princess is removed as she stands there, chest heaving, indignation on her face. Quiet contemplation is given as she catches her breath and watches the strong arms of the men row the boat further away. Squinting her eyes suddenly she cries, \"Hark! The skin of the southron!\" Turning to Anithraril she says, \"We must make haste to the harbor.\"

\"To the Harbour we go then Highness! And give the hail we shall -- The hail of warning. The killers of Azrakhor the Bold, Sons of Castamir have landed on the Shores of Gondor!\" He looks sullen -- and with narry a word or thought does he raise his sword into the air. \"For all those who have fellen to the fury of the south! Long Live Azrakhor!\"

He sheaths his blade, and motions to the other Knights. Then plods as quickly as his feet allow him -- In pursuit of Umbars\' deizens.

The former hunting party headed by the Princess of Dol Amroth arrives on the wharf and quickly parts the bustling crowd. \"Out of the way! Move! Clear a path!\", barks the voice of Ivriniel as they move closer to the ships docked there. One hand rests on a shapely hip as silvery orbs scan the many different boats, white sails furled in the breeze. Sighing deeply she turns to Anithraril she says, \"Upon closer viewing of these ships, I cannot pick the one from whence the smaller boat was cast.\"

Irritation mars her expression as she says to another Knight. Take two men and start a search of the ships docked here, look for any that resemble those that we saw on shore. Start thither\", pointing with one slender finger. To Anithraril she says, \"Come. We shall start at the opposite end and look.\"

The Swan-Knight nods. \"Not a stone shall be left unturned Highness. The search shall start immediately.\" He approaches a sailor and speaks some soft words to him. Then the sailor returns with an army of strongbacks and mariners. \"With these men, the discovery of the smugglers will be fast and quick!\" He nods to the Daughter of Adrahil and moves to join the searchers.

Remaining on the wharf as all but one of the Knights begin a search of the ships docked, Ivriniel stands quietly, eyes carefully glancing over the crowd bustling through the harbor. Shaking her head and waving off a vendor hawking his wares, with one quick motion of her hand, the sister of Imrahil watches those departing from one ship in particular. Silvery orbs squint as they fall upon a tall figure dressed in a cloak of darkened hues. Quickly her footsteps move in that direction, her ever present guard at her side.

Arali wanders away from the ship, trying to blend into the crowd. Pitifully short compared to many Gondorians, she occasionally stops and searches about. Spying the Harbormaster\'s Office, she begins to move towards it, discreetly motioning for Vrael to follow her.

A motion in the crowd catches the attention of Ivriniel. Realizing it was a signal to the tall cloaked man, she steps in behind a tall sailor and moves in the direction of the two figures that departed just -another- ship in the harbor. The manner of their clothing and actions a cause for curiosity alone, standing out in the crowd as -different-. One finger goes to the lips of the Princess as she motions to the Knight with her to follow the pair.

*note - The first night of this little TP ended here and we picked up the next evening with this next portion*

Now Arali and Vrael walk about the docks, visiting supply stores and acting as if they really were just a merchant far from home, trying to resupply.

Terynot wanders the docks, chewing on something and spitting occasionally as he goes. His voice is rough as he mutters under his breath and his walk is almost a stagger as his crooked leg gives him a rolling walk made all the worse by his expectations of sea swells that arn\'t there. His eyes are constantly roaming the area and lingering on women as he goes, not a leer so much as a casual lingering look that moves on as he does along the docks.

Long indeed was the silence of the retired sea captain Rorgomir, but upon his disembarkment from the \'merchant\' vessel, he is immediately accosted by a harborman who demands he show himself in the presence of the Harbourmaster posthaste. With a shrug, he complies, the boot on his wooden leg clumping ominously up the dock to the waiting Harbourmaster.

Heated are the words that greet the old captain as he stands before the Harbourmaster -- snippets of his firey tirade waft over even the din of the busy port. Words like \"strangers\" and \"lines\" and \"sails\" are given especial weight as the hefty man addresses the double-amputee. At the end of it all, though, Rorgomir simply shrugs to the man, and with a few quiet words turns away and heads toward where the only two persons to disembark from the \'merchant\' vessel wander along the shops.

The Swan Knights report back to Lady Ivriniel, after their search of the ships in the harbor and none of the men in service to House Imrazor have anything odd to recant, save a -somewhat- suspicious ship far from their homeland that needs to restock supplies before they continue onward.

The elder Imrazor -pretends- interest in the vast assortment of vendors wares lining the wharf. Holding up bolt after bolt of lovely material and admiring the craftsmenship, all the while her eyes watch the -two- seen leaving a ship with white sails still furled in the breeze. A purchase is made as a merchant from Edhellond is there selling a rare and somewhat over priced herb only grown in the blazing heat of Umbar. Dickering over the price for a few minutes, Ivriniel good naturedly gives the man his required coins and hands the pouches of herbs to one of her guards.

Nigh on two years ago, the prices for such herbs as purchased by the sister of Imrahil were not so high, but now do the merchants seek to line their pockets in the great dearth of such items since the spoils of the \'great campaign\' in Harad have been long sold. Indeed, among the shops and wares on display are many items common to the visitors from abroad, yet priced such that it would seem only members of the Prince\'s own household could afford them.

Into this swirling of colors and mix of languages does the retired sea-captain Rorgomir stride, as well as any man can stride upon but one good leg, finally drawing abreast of the pair he sought out. There he walks silently for but a moment before speaking softly enough that even those within arms reach of the trio would be hard-pressed to overhear. \"The Harbourmaster is an overly suspicious man, but you need heed him not, so long as you agree to pay the harbour tax he has levied upon your vessel.\"

Terynot continues walking along the merchants, glaring occasionally at some of them who get in his way with their wares. His eyes continue to play across the folk of the dock and then stop, taking in the strange merchant. His jaw quite certainly stops of its own accord and it\'s a moment before he takes his eyes off the woman, only to find the lady Ivriniel in his sights. He shakes his head for a moment as if trying to shed water from his hair and he mutters something darkly about beautare not unlike others who pace about, and if it were not for his stern glance and a large pommel bulging from his shirt, he would be an average layman.He casts a disapproving look at Arali, and shadows Ivriniel, the Master Healer.

A solemn nod does the old Captain give to the male visitor, the beginnings of a grin touching at his lips at the man\'s outrage. \"Aye, \'tis indeed a steep price, even for this harbour.\" Then the man makes a polite nodding bow toward the Prince\'s older sister. \"Good day, Your Grace,\" he says lightly, adding, \"I know but little of herbs and quite more of fruits, Your Grace, but indeed doth the aromas of such a pavilion as this overwhealm one\'s sense of scent.\"

Formalities aside, he now turns his attention toward the female of the pair with a shake of his head, replying flatly, \"Unfortunately such as that is not traded here, my lady.\" Quickly he adds, \"Perhaps some other arrangements can be made -- have you anything upon the ship that I might be interested in purchasing for, say, thirty gold crowns?\". He continues walking through the crowds keeping the strange woman in sight and drinking in her looks. He is quite surprised out of his staring by the arrival of Rorgomir, a man well known amongst the sailors and marines and respected by all. He watches in interest as these new arrivals are greeted and spoken to and the old sailor shakes his head muttering again about rank. \"Always the good ones are taken or too far for the likes of old salts.\"

Continuing to peruse the wares on display, Lady Ivriniel moves ever so much closer to the pair in question. Surprise flits across her face as the one legged sea captain draws near and speaks softly to them. Straining to hear, she leans closer, all the while, turning a locket in her hands and holding it up into the beam of sunlight in the middle of the table. A soft laugh slips from her lips as the locket twirls, capturing the trio in the shiny surface. Slender fingers curl around the long golden chain, stopping the movement of the locket, allowing it to focus on those that have peaked the curiosity of the Princess.

\"But have you enough Gondorian coin with which to pay it?\" asks Rorgomir of the woman he now walks beside. \"He has set it at thirty gold, as proof of your loyalty to the Prince and Steward.\"

The tinkle of laughter rings from the lips of Lady Ivriniel as she and the vendor finally settle on a price for the locket in her hand. Waiting for the merchant to wrap the item, Ivriniel turns and gets a very good look at the woman. Dark eyes, very different from the silvery grey and blue eyes of the Gondorians are the most noticeable trait of the tiny woman, barely reaching mid way to the shoulder of the tall man beside her.

Thanking the merchant absentmindedly Ivriniel walks closer to the three as they near the stall from whence she just left. Her soft voice can be heard saying, \"Quite an assortment of exotic herbs and healing potions to be found here. Winking at her old friend she teases, \"If you can get the old bag to give you a good price on the many herbs he brings from far off lands.\" Idlely picking up a pouch of blackhaw, she sniffs it delicately and smiles, \"Each herb has such a unique scent. Do you not agree?\" Twinkling eyes focus on the woman as she awaits an answer.

Terynot watches the group moving towards the herbs as he himself chews on some and then realizes that his own, a mild stimulant popular years ago amongst the marines, is no longer really there. He spits out the last of the leaf and reaches into a small pouch to pull out some more. He starts chewing on those while idly murmuring to himself, \"Funny look lass she is. Good looking but not quite what I\'d expect to see as a merchant. Too young to really be in charge though I guess I\'m just old. Maybe that\'s the problem, I\'m too old to keep up with these young lasses.\"

Arali \'s walk is leisurely, yet her eyes tell a different story. They quickly scan the herbs in the stall, sharp and alert, eager to obstain the herb they so desperately seek and be on her way. She begins to confidently proclaim to Rorgomir, her voice still keeping low, \"Of course I have Gondorian coi...,\" When the price is named, she nearly chokes, her reaction not much unlike Vrael\'s.

Shooting her companion an acid look, warning him to hush and let her do the talking, she regains her composure. She licks her lips and offers Rorgomir an uncertain look, \"I might have to sell my companion to get you that amount,\" then more seriously she replies with a sigh, \"I will see what I can do. That is piracy thou...\" Arali trails off as the Lady Ivriniel approaches and speaks. She knows not who this is, but there is something regal in her bearing and her looks, so she bows her head deeply to the princess, \"Yes, Lady. I trust you a are a healer? I have some knowledge in the trade myself, and am low on many of these herbs. I really should resupply and would value your recommendation.\"

Finally after a long period of silence, a darkly dressed man moves himself out of the shadows and into the light flanking his charge. His clothes

Terynot glances at Anithraril\'s arrival and spits darkly onto the ground to his side, \'Bah guards. Afraid in their own ports of the dark ones plots. What has our land come to when our very women fear for their safety at home in the markets. Hrmpph..\" Terynot turns to look back over at Arali and then looks at Vrael and seems to sigh, \"Even she seems to have brought one along too. Must be somebody important then and the Captain\'s presence certainly means I\'m not going to have a chance to even talk with the lady let alone find out if she can dance.\" A scowl comes to the old sailors face as he finishes his mutterings, \"Bah, shoreleaves not what it used to be. Now I just stand and watch the ladies who ignore an old sea dog like myself. What I wouldn\'t give for the days before..\" He shrugs for a moment and heads towards the herbs, a sigh his only seeming regret.

A serene smile curves the lips of the Princess as she nods her head at the woman with the most unusual -looks-. Her eyes glance over her face as she asks, \"And you would be a healer from?\" Picking up a pouch of Calabar bean she asks, \"Are you familiar with this?\" Before the woman can respond she laughs softly and replies, \"Tis a wonderful antidote for Arnica poisoning, but alas, rare to Gondor.\"%

Turning and and asking with a sublte smile, \"And you would be a healer from....where did you say?\" The silvery grey orbs of the Sister of Imrahil swing back around with a deadly coldness in them as her last question is spoken.\"

Arali pauses for a moment, eyes sinking to the ground. \"I will see that the harbourmaster has his recompense,\" she states flatly, speaking solemnly, as if that were an oath. She then bothers to shoot Vrael a look, warning him not to disagree with her, when he does not yet know what she has in mind. But the Lady Ivriniel cannot be ignored.

She turns her dark gaze back to the princess, and noting the title by which she is called, she does a doubletake, looking her over again. If she feels fear though, she does not show it and speaks smoothly, even a bit naively, \"A land quite far away from yours. This place,\" Arali peers about in wonderment, \"Is so different so strange. I have stated the name before, but no one seems to know of it. Maybe you have heard of it? I come from a land called Riazza. It is a port. Have you?\" Arali then peers blankly at all the plants, and begins to buy a few, including those from Umbar that she already has, \"I should take some of these back with me. Are these your native plants? Are they really as useful as you say, your..Grace?\"

Falling silent himself, the Captain seems to accept the words of the woman and the Princess as they begin to parry words. Indeed, if he did not have such a part in the ruse himself, he might speak upon his own knowledge of \'Riazza\'. Now, though, he does not -- cannot -- for the old saw holds true in a special way for him... If he can not speak in truths, then he shall remain silent.

Terynot walks towards the small crowd of noble ladies, the captain and the two \'guards\' and right on past them, his twisted leg causing him to hobble as he does. He picks up a small packet of herbs and looking at the eager herb seller, who has stopped looking at anybody else he just shrugs and tosses a few small coins on the table, and takes one of the leaves out and starts chewing it. He turns to look at the ladies closer. He looks over Arali especially and seems to be thinking to himself as he does, though his eyes seem to take in her youth as though he was a man starved for the sight.

Puzzlement flits over the expression of Lady Ivriniel as the tall man turns away from the conversation at hand. So fleeting is the look, perhaps it was only imagined by the tiny woman standing before the White Lady of Belfalas. Glancing to the old sea captain she graces him with a noble tilt of her head, \"Greetings Captain\" and then her glance rests once again on the woman and she smiles, \"A land quite far away? How very interesting. I cannot recall having heard of the land called Riazza, I shall have to question the scholars on my return to the palace.\"

Shaking her head, the newly shorn raven tresses of the Princess frame her alabaster face with curls as she says, \"Nay. None of these are native plants, hence the exorbitant prices seen here. Our native plants can be found in the town of Dol Amroth proper.\" Her conversation continues on as she nods her head and says, \"These are all high quality herbs and potions. This merchant is one of the few that I trust to bring back herbs from far away in good condition. There are some that try to sell soggy mixtures that were not properly prepared.\" A smile curves her lips as she asks, \"How long have you been a healer?\" The eyes of the Princess rove over those milling around, noting the Swan Knights hovering around her at all times, one looking particularly stern as the Princess mixes with the commoners.

The shadowing figure sees Terynot looking over the Princess. His face hardens, and he silently walks toward Terynot, his form masking the sight of Arali, his hands placed on his belt -- atop the pommel of his sword.

He shakes his head, and his clam eyes regard the intruder carefully, assessing his intent.

Arali is all politeness and humility to this strangely talkative, and inquisitive woman. She gracefully bows her head, \"I..,\" she purses her lips, sinking into thought, \"Since I was about 12 or 13. I would be very interested in learning about the herbs you have, your Grace. I have often found that far away lands have very strange and different herbs, that can cure all matter of malady. I would be honoured if you showed me and taught me of what use they may be.\"

Ever curious about the woman from -Riazza-, the sister of Imrahil smiles, the expression not quite warming her sea grey eyes as she says, \"Perhaps, you and your companion....and of course, the Captain would care to have tea in my chambers, before your departure.\" Amusement doth show again as she adds, \"The Master Healers chambers can be a dreadful place, I should warn you of that aforehand. The scent of woundwort fills the air with a horrible stench at the moment. Why just yesterday, one of my new apprentice healers had a sneezing fit when I started the mixture steeping.\"

Cutting her eyes quickly to her -personal- guard, she sends him a silent message in the clarity of her eyes. Ivriniel nods her head briefly and then, one quick motion of her hand flashes in the air before it is dropped to her side.

Arali blithely smiles and nods, as one who makes small talk but is not quite clear of what the Princess speaks of. \"That..that is a great honour. If I have time, perhaps I could go for tea,\" and Arali, for all her acting and deception, seems genuinely intrigued by the offer, \"But I would love to see this healing chamber of yours. If I may ask, how do you go about treating a burn? I am afraid in my land, it is a very difficult type of wound to treat. Have you any specific herbs for it?\" Occasionally, Arali throws a curious glance back to Vrael and Rorgomir, wondering what they speak of.

The soldier is concentrated, and his eyes start assessing Arali and her companions more closely, watching every subtle move. Trouble Perhaps?

A shrewd look comes into the eyes of Rorgomir then, at the hearing of Vrael\'s words. He smiles a bit more genuinely, still speaking softly enough that his words are only for the ears of that man, \"That, ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... shedding ... ..., though ... seem ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... validate ... ... ... ... ... ....\" Then with a bit of admonition in his voice, he adds, \"... ... ..., lad, before ... ... ... bragging, ... where ... ... ... ... ... ... .... Long before ... ... ..., ... ... those ... were as ... ... ... ... ... ... is ....\"

Although her eyes glance repeatedly to the guard that is ever inching closer to those standing in conversation, Ivriniel speaks only to the woman from the far off land of -Riazza-. \" Her shoulder shrugs indifferently, perhaps rescinding the offer of tea as she says, \"Perhaps my invitation was a bit bold. But my own knowledge of healing has been increased by many from other lands. Tis always of interest to share -insight- with another that shares your interest.\"

Pleasantly conversing with the woman the Princess doth finally answer her question, \"To treat a burn here in Gondor is relatively simple. A decotion of Chamomile or Night Yarrow is applied as a cool compress, repeating ever hour on the half.\"

Terynot nods to Anithraril as the younger man moves away, out of his line of sight, and he continues to watch Arali\'s movements, savoring the grace and beauty that is not a common sight in Gondor. Terynot\'s voice though still stands on Anithraril\'s actions as he mutters softly, \'Young\'ns have no respect for their elders. Think they know what it is to sacrifice and think they know what\'s best. Hrmph. Overly eager puppies. Haven\'t learned that looking at those you\'ve protected is the only way some of us will ever get any reward in this land.\" Terynot spits again, the dark juices of the leaves he chews staining the ground as his ramblings die off and he watches the ladies appreciatively, for he surely does look like a man who is happy about something that he is seeing.

Coughing into his hand, a sound escapes Rorgomir that sounds very much like the word, \"Noises!\"

With another nod, the retired Captain follows Vrael toward the ship an dissappears from sight.

The Master Healer cautions heavily as she explains the plants, \"One must pay very -close- attention when obtaining -night yarrow-. A cousin to the -yarrow-, this plant can induce come and eventually a slow and lingering death.\" Shaking her head seriously, \"Take care to learn of the difference betwixt the two ere any attempt is made to use them.\" Adding almost in a whisper, \"As you may poison the very one you are attempting to heal\"

Little attention is given to the men and their conversation as the gaze of the Master healer grows a little distant at the mention of this herb. Silent does the woman fall as a hand reaches unconsciously to touch the newly shorn locks of raven hair.

Arali blinks at Rorgomir for a moment, her brow furrows, then a flicker of recognition lights up her eyes. Struggling to regain her composure, she casts a faint nod towards Vrael as he departs and returns her attention to the princess. Like an eager student, she nods her head and repeats all the strange and foreign names that breeze past her. She tilts her head slightly as Ivriniel trails off, her eyes narrowing with thought. Then suddenly, she says, \"So, shall we go the Healing Chamber? If I am not asking for too much, your Grace. But the day does draw to a close, and I still must attend to matters on my ship.\"

The bodyguard looks uneasy as Arali asks to be taken to the citadel. His suspicion increases, and he looks at the woman constantly, either commiting himself to duty or to other worldly pleasures... more likely duty however, as he looks not at the womans\' shapely form but rather at her hands, following their every move.

Indeed it is not long in haggler\'s time before Rorgomir reappears on the decks of the \'merchant\' ship, having gone below with Vrael. As he emerges from the hold, a large bail of raw silk is hoisted from the same hatch and wenched to the docks. Bearing a smug grin, the retired Captain makes his way down the gangplank and orders a group of near-by longshoremen to move his purchase off the docks, to parts unknown.

Striding up the dock, now, in that uneven gait of his, Rorgomir takes pause to speak to the Harbourmaster, placing a small amount of coin in the man\'s hand followed by a rather large pouch of same. Seeming to be more pleased by the words exchanged with the old captain, the Harbourmaster again goes about his business. Apparently, the vessel has paid her tax and will be free to go whenever the \'merchants\' finish their business within the city.

Without another look back, Rorgomir again makes his way to the herbstand where the two women remain engrossed in conversation, and stands quietly to one side, observing.

The cloud in the eyes of the Princess clears as the sound of the young womans voice sounds again and Ivriniel turns to her and visibly shakes her head, a distant now there, where before was curiosity. \"Yes, the day does draw to a close.\" Turning to speak softly to the ever present Knight at her side she mutters a few words for his ears only and he moves quickly in the direction of the palace.

The sister of Imrahil gives pause as her attention returns once more to the woman standing before her...silently holding the dark eyed gaze of this -stranger- and then her words are softly spoken, \"Before one foot is set into the palace, you must be searched for weapons. No one is allowed to enter the Halls of healing, armed.\"

Terynot , in contrast to the princesses bodyguard, looks at Arali\'s form and shakes his head as he sighs. \"Why do the lasses have to be so pretty and me so old.. Or rather why did I not going into something like the guard at least where I would have been able to avoid getting stuck between the vessels when they rolled. My leg would have been game for more than just hobbling. And maybe I wouldn\'t have turned into quite the man I am today. At least maybe I\'d have had a wife instead of these tired old bones and a cold, wet cot on board a coaster surrounded by young pups who think nothing of what they\'re doing or who may end up injured or worse.. Hrmph.. \"

Terynot sighs though as his ramblings run down a bit and says, \"At least I have coins in my pocket enough to drink to the ladies beauty. Mayhap that will keep me warm enough at night.\" Terynot looks over at the young guard who is watching over the Princess Ivriniel and he smiles slightly, the look of an old man seeing another make many of his own mistakes, and of pride to see another doing a job well, \"Maybe he\'ll find a lady of his own before it\'s too late... Because he won\'t know what he\'s missing until it\'s too late for him to go find it.\"

Arali blinks. Not knowing the layout of Dol Amroth, she has had no idea that the healing chambers were in the palace itself. She looks a little queasy, but that is all. Quickly she wracks her brain, trying to think of anyone in that place that could recognize her. But she is content in the knowledge that most of them she has killed, so she readily nods, \"I understand completely, your Grace. Will your...attendant search me?\" A faint coloring comes to her cheeks, as if she was embarassed to be searched by a man, or perhaps to have it done in such a public place.

As quickly as the offer to tea was spoken, just as quickly it is retracted as Lady Ivriniel catches the embarassment of the woman. \"Perhaps the next time you -visit- our fair city we can have tea and converse about the many uses of plants and herbs. A sampling of your own herbs and their uses would be interesting fodder to pass the time.\"

Glancing up at the movement of a familiar form she smiles at Terynot, nodding her head briefly in acknowledge of the old crusty sailor and says to Arali, \"This old man is one to be trusted on herbs grown here in Gondor and the vicinity. I oft use him when I personally cannot obtain a certain plant. A gold florin in his hand will give you any herb that you wish and a hearty tale to go along with it.\"

Still standing to the side and observing, Rorgomir seems now content in his silence. He observes the women at their conversation and the old sailor being brought into it with a smile upon his face, and the fingers of his only hand looped in the sash that holds his longsword.

Arali peers suspiciously at the sailor, but she chooses not to doubt the Princess\' words. She turns back to her and bows deeply, her gratitude quite sincere, if a bit guarded, \"I shall look forward to it. But if I may venture to ask you something, your Grace. What is your name? We never did properly introduce ourselves,\" and at this, Arali looks embarassed yet again, \"I am Araliara,\" she says simply.

Terynot looks up at the Princess\' words and a smile splits his rough, salt hardened, features. He spits out the last of the leaves he\'s been chewing on and his voice, older, but much warmer than when last he spoke to the princess\' guard, \"Aye, indeed m\'lady. If there be things about herbs that I\'ve not learned in my time they ussually arn\'t worth knowing too much about or are found so far inland that I be not in a position to see them ever. Even the herbs of our enemy have been of use to me and I\'ve had to rely on them more than once.\" He turns to Arali with a smile, surprisingly clean smile though two from teeth are missing, \"What types of herbs be you looking for? Maybe I can help yeah find\'m or at least identify what your looking for. Old Arny here,\" Terynot points back to the herb seller who straightens considerably on being pointed out, \"has just about everything a healer or anybody could want.\"

Finally satisfied that the situation seems to be going well enough, and obvously eager to get at finding a buyer for his newly acquired silk, Rorgomir turns from the pair and walks away in the same direction the longshoremen dragged the bail not so long ago. As he leaves, he gives the women a look over his shoulder and calls out, \"Farewell and good morrow! Until we meet again!\"

Then is Rorgomir swallowed by the crowds, still present even now, at day\'s end.

A frown of irritation mars the brow of the Princess as she espies a root of Black Cohosh lying near the back of the vendor\'s table. One hand reaches for the plant that causes the death of unborn babies and her voice is stern and cold, \"Never again shall I see this plant displayed for sale. I shall have you banned from this city for the use of this plant. Many a woman have I battled to save from the deadly use of this wretched plant.\" Quivering with rage she almost forgets about the young woman beside her.

Drawing in a long cleansing breath she turns to the woman, a high colour of pink staining both cheeks as she gives her a noble nod, \"I am Lady Ivriniel, the White Lady of Belfalas, sister of Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth. Tis a pleasure to meet you Araliara.\" A knowing smile curves her lips as she adds,\"Perhaps the truth shall be spoken when next we meet?\" Leaving that question hanging in the air she turns her attention to Terynot and the departing Rorgomir.

The gaze of Ivriniel remains on Araliara, the woman from a -far- off land for a moment and then, with nary another word, the Princess moves gracefully along the wharf. The Swan Knights that are ere at her side, fall into place, forming a protective circle around the elder Imrazor as they move towards the palace. The footsteps of the woman pause to speak gently to those that she is familiar with, a soft touch oft placed on a shoulder and kind word spoken.The soft ring of her laughter floats across the gentle breeze as she turns the corner and disappears from sight.

Arali waits until the Lady is out of hearing range before she states bluntly, \"Deadman\'s Bells. Have you any of that? Though anything else you have I would greatly appreciate as well. As I said, I am always curious to learn of herbs from far away lands.\" Strange...just a moment ago Arali had been claiming to have no knowledge of this land, now she suddenly knows the name of a very specific herb.

Terynot blinks in surprise at the ladies words, \"Deadman\'s Bells? But that\'s only really useful as an antidote for poisoning or for stimulating the heart. For something like Night Yarrow. That\'s dangerous stuff and should you give it to somebody who doesn\'t need it your libel to end up with somebody who\'s quite dead.\" Terynot looks at the lady strangly and then shrugs, \"Though how you would know of it from afar.. We don\'t often get people looking for. Hmm who would have some though..\" Terynot seems to think a bit as his words ramble, \"Arny doesn\'t.. Doesn\'t deal in the stimulants like that. Nor does.. but wait a second.. Hmm what was that packet Rulein left me in payment for that Woundwort..\" Terynot seems to mutter to himself as he pulls out pouch and opens it up looking inside.

Arali does not explain her strange knowledge, she simply waits in nervous anticipation to see whether the man can or will help her. She peers at him with big brown eyes, batting her eyes sweetly and hopefully at him, \"I have been a healer for some years now. I shall use it wisely,\" she promises, \"And only to heal, not to harm.\"

Terynot reaches into the pouch and pulls out a pinch of powder the result of crushed leaves and he puts a tiny pinch on his tongue tasting the material. \"Hmm. Yes.. Yes that\'s deadman\'s bells. Has that slight almost bitter taste to it. And then you feel the pulse racing just a little.\" He looks over at Arali and says, \"If you take too much though it just races the heart till it explodes and bam. Out you are like a fire in a storm and dead as they get. Only a little bits necessary even for those closest to death.\" He watches the ladies actions and snorts, \"Lass, I\'m too old to take much interest in you batting those pretty brown eyes of yours. I\'m old enough to be your father almost twice over I\'m sure.\" Terynot looks around for a moment and then says, \"Umm. do you think we could go somewhere else to talk about this? It\'s.. Well the middle of the streets not the best place to discuss business.\"

Terynot shakes his head and says, \'Lass truly I care not where you are going. Should you be shipping to the very docks of Harad I would rather go there than be stuck here anymore reminded of the sea and not allowed to be sailing upon her. She\'s the only lover I truly have anymore and I would rather be upon her than anywhere else. Is there not something you could do? At least talk to the ships captain and gain me a berth at least for one voyage? One time to see if I am capable. That\'s all I ask is a chance. One last chance upon the sea.\" Terynot looks at Arali and his demeanor has changed drastically. There is a deep sadness in his eyes and almost a begging quality to his voice.

Terynot shrugs and says, \"Indeed lady I will not cheat you and I will take you up on the chance even.\" Terynot smiles slightly for a moment a man of twenty seems to stand there before the moment is gone and Terynot\'s age falls over him again. He closes up the bag and hands it to Arali and says, \"Here m\'lady. Take the herbs as my sign of good faith. And hopefully you\'ll get it to whomever it is that you fear for. Only if you had real need of it would you want it so badly. And let us go meet this captain of yours. Mayhap he won\'t take a liking to me but at the least lady I may have one last chance at the only thing that has ever lasted in my life and that I have been able to love.\"

Arali accepts the bag, holding onto it as if it was the most valuable asset in her life right now. As they wend their way towards the ship, all thoughts of resupplying are thrown out the window, and Arali does not even pretend to be a merchant. However, she cannot help herself, and before she boards with her hard-won prize, she lingers at a few stalls, spending enough money to fuel Dol Amroth\'s economy for months to come.