The Red Book of Westmarch

A tale of the Gondorian

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Lunch, Interrupted

A tale freshly told of the Gondorian

Reckoning
April 28, 3046
Where
Minas Tirith
Hour
Afternoon
Weather
Rain
Players

Bronadui ,Ceredir ,Nelladel ,Morwenn ,Bor ,Curugil ,Arathis ,Faramir ,Black Hand

A busy lunch hour at the Drover\'s Arms is interrupted by Citadel Guards shutting down the premises amid accusations that the patrons were involved in the attack by the Black Hand.

Minas Tirith: Drover\'s Arms

Laughter greets you as you duck through the low door. The mood here is light and jolity and levity rule! The barkeep dispenses his vintages with a cheery grin, while the waitresses glide easily through the tables and throngs of customers. Here all is merry, the cares of the world left at the door. Riders have no desire to speak of their hardships in the midst of a glass of Minas Tirith\'s finest! A heavily-lintelled fireplace stands against the far wall, crackling as it burns the day\'s logs and casting out its light and warmth over the room.

[Minas Tirith City ZMO(#81)->Ceredir]

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Weather:            Rainy

Time:               Mid Afternoon <17>

Season:             Spring

Date:               Oraearon - April 28, 3046

Real Time:          Sun Mar 01 18:20:16 2009

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The rainy spring weather has turned much of the city to mud and sent many a folk hurrying indoors or going about their errands quickly, lest the never-ending rain soak them to the bone. So it is on this mid afternoon that the tavern is perhaps busier than usual with a lunch crowd, as well as with many men newly returned from the war against Harad.

Among those here is a young man of about 19, garbed in the browns and greens of Ithilien, black gauntlets set to one side as he eats. He sits at the end of one long table, and the few remaining seats in the tavern are here.

Ceredir lifts the mug of ale before him, sipping at it as he glances around the tavern. A bandage is still about a cut above his left eye. Behind him, on a peg on the wall, is his cloak, dripping water.

[Bronadui(#28411)]

One more young man entering into the tavern from teh rain outside hardly garners much notice. Bronadui wears a light weight woolen cloak which he now strips from himself to hang with so many others near to the door so that they may drip and the water slip beneath the door along a groove in the floor set for just such a purpose.

The young Hostman, in uniform but now off shift, carries a bow and quiver with an oiled flap over much of it against the rain\'s wet. A sigh, a hand to skim through his dark brown hair, then he\'s looking for a place to take a seat. It\'s busy in here.

Edging through, he finds a place and plops down next to a man he doesn\'t know, Ceredir. A hand to his left side ribs as though he were sore, then Bron\'s pale eyes are looking off for a server to take his order.

\"Wounded?\" Ceredir asks, noting as the Hostman rubs his side. He moves over slightly to make some room at the table. \"Harad or an orc?\" he then continues, taking a sip of his ale.

\"Fish is good here today, but the servers are hard to come by.\"

[Bronadui(#28411)]

Well yes, he\'s noticing that lack of server availibility part. Bronadui frowns, then looks over at the other man to give him a polite nod, \"A little... not too bad.\" He eyes Ceredir\'s bandage then adds quietly, \"Orc.\" A touch of a smile then, \"Fish sounds good. Buttered up, maybe some hot bread and cheese...\" But first, to snag a server! The young archer raises a hand to try and gain a lass\'s eye, \"Hey, when you can, miss!\"

She seems to be busy, but he got a nod in turn so she did see him. Bronadui looks at the other fella a minute, then looks around the room for familiar faces.

\"Whose Company were you with? Your face isn\'t familiar to me,\" Ceredir notes, looking a bit amsued at the Hostman\'s struggle to gain the server\'s attention. He reaches for the bread still remaining on his own plate, using it to soak up the sauce that was on his fish.

[Thaladel(#7905)] A petite figure hurries in out of the rain, cloaked and hooded, though strands of long black hair that have escaped the hood are dripping. Nella sheds her cloak and looks around, lingering just inside the doorway. She smiles when she catches sight of Ceredir, whom she has come to meet, but seeing another at his table already, Nella hesitates before she reaches the table and looks a question at him, waiting for him to notice her there and not wishing to intrude on a conversation.

[Bronadui(#28411)]

Out of habit, Bronadui starts to point to his cloak clasp... only, he took it off to hang the wet garment by the entry, \"Silvery Ship company,\" he answers. Shrugging off his bowcase and quiver, which is not a long bow, he twists and sets it to hang off a peg on the wall behind them so that he won\'t bonk Ceredir or somebody else who shares the bench with him. He probably should have taken one of the chairs at the end of the table but didn\'t see many seating choices with it so busy in here.

The serving lass finally makes it over and Bronadui cheers up, \"Ale miss, please. And I\'d love some of your fish today... platter or stew, whatever you have, with bread, cheese, and maybe an apple?\" A nice smile from the young man for her and he gets a smile back before she moves off. Only a dripping wet young woman coming up to their table gets Bron\'s attention and he nods to her, not knowing Nella, \"Welcome to sit, miss... not many places open.\"

\"Silver Ship,\" Ceredir repeats rather distantly. \"Then you were not in Ithilien for the most recent campaign, I gather?\" He interrupts this line of questioning to point to his ale and smile at the serving woman. \"Another of these and some bread and cheese for me as well, and...\"

Thoughts of food gone, Ceredir jumps to his feet at the arrival of Nella, pulling out his chair for her. \"You sit here--I will get another!\" he says, brightening considerably at her arrival. And he does then hop off to the end of the table to argue briefly with another patron trying to claim one of the scarce empty chairs.

[Thaladel(#7905)] \"Thank you, love,\" Nella says quietly, though happily as she takes the offered seat and begins wringing water out of her dark hair. Water also stains the top of her blue gown. \"What a miserable afternoon,\" she observes, absentmindedly brushing at her cheek to make sure that her skin is free of charcoal smudges. Studying the other man at their table, Nella offers him a smile and asks Ceredir, \"Who is our guest?\"

[Bronadui(#28411)]

Glancing back to the unintroduced Ranger looking sort, a Scout Bronadui might guess, he starts to answer, \"Well, actually....\" but his answer is interrupted by the other man popping up like a jack-in-the-box at the young woman\'s arrival. Being something of a country lad, Bronadui grins at the gal, \"Guess he\'ll find another.\"

To her question he remembers he has some manners and stands up while she takes a seat to join them at the table, \"Name\'s Bron, ma\'m. Bronadui Ethriamrun.\" He retakes his seat once she is sitting and just in time for his ale to arrive. Bron thanks the serving gal who lingers to see if Nella wants to order. Bron\'s meal hasn\'t come out yet.

\"Guest?\" Ceredir arrives with said chair, plunking it down next to Nelladel\'s, so that the woman is sandwiched between the two men. \"You\'re drenched, though,\" he says, distracted. \"Would you like my cloak? Likely it is dry by now...\"

And then, distracted again by Bron standing and introducing himself, he drops that line of thought. \"Nelladel Telp...Lady Nelladel, and I am Ceredir, of the Company of Ithilien. Pleasure to meet you.\"

[Thaladel(#7905)] \"Something warm, please,\" Nella requests of the serving girl. \"Mulled cider, if you have it, and a bowl of stew?\" She smiles her appreciation before the server leaves their table again. \"Your cloak would be wonderful, love,\" Nella says, still chilled from the rain. The young lady puts a hand on Ceredir\'s arm when he starts to introduce her by using her family name, as if in warning, but he corrects himself, and then the girl relaxes. \"Pleased to meet you,\" Nella echoes. She wonders to the stranger, \"Were you with Ceredir\'s company, in the fighting?\"

[Bronadui(#28411)]

Ah! There comes his platter of fish with bread and cheese! A serving lad lays it on the table and Bronadui thanks him before returning his attention to Nell and Ceredir, \"Eh, not sure. Don\'t think I know him, miss.\" A brief smile before he adds quickly, \"Most action takes place after dark, see. So during the day hours we move around a lot or sleep. I\'m no Ranger, but as I can track, ride, and use a bow sometimes I get sent out to do scout\'n seperate from my company anyways. I have a fast horse so ... I get made message courier a lot depending on officer\'s needs of the moment.\"

At the girl\'s question about his Company, Ceredir gives her an indulging smile, the same expression, though with a bit more humor in it, then given to Bronadui.

\"He is a Hostman, Nel,\" he says, standing to retrieve his partially dry cloak and drape it about her shoulders before retaking his seat. \"Though it was difficult for the Hostmen this campaign,\" he notes, picking up on Bronadui\'s comment. \"Being in Ithilien and having the Ban to work with. They were confined to the road and that was it. So the Rangers and all the Company were the only ones who could scout the enemy into the wilderness on either side of us.\"

[Morwenn(#24368)]

There is a new face at the door, one uncertain and young as fresh cream. She stands on her toes, looking over the crowded room as if searching for someone and looking disappointed when she does not find it.

[Thaladel(#7905)] \"Oh, a Hostman, of course,\" Nella says quickly, trying to cover her mistake. \"Forgive me- I spend too much time with books and art, lately. Trying to distract myself from thinking of the battles.\" Her gaze lingers on Ceredir as she says it, though the words are meant for the Hostman. Looking toward the door when it opens, the young woman smiles to see another lady in the room.

[Bronadui(#28411)]

OK, an explanation is in order here. A good pull of his ale after a few quick bites of his fish before Bronadui says, \"I haven\'t been out in any fighting lately though. Got my ribs busted up by an orc ... a really big ugly fella, last year, see. Then I was work\'n with this filly and she\'s real green and spooky. She dumped me and I rebroke the two ribs here, ma\'m. So I\'m mending but ... you folk misunderstand me. I wasn\'t allowed ta go on this last compaign due to that.\"

An apologetic and frankly embarassed look from the young archer, \"I\'ve been stuck in the city walking gate shifts, mostly.\" But there had been a time when he had been sent out to pair up with a group of Scouts and a Ranger for a special mission, though he doesn\'t mention that.

[Bor(#30834)]

By the fireside, alone and watchful, sits a hooded Swansman. His attention shifts to the newly arrived girl from where it had previously resided, but he says nothing. His eyes follow Morwen for a moment before going back to Ceredir.

[Morwenn(#24368)]

It seems that Morwen sees what she\'s come for her expression changes and she plunges into the throng to catch a drunken soldier by the back of his tunic. \"Found you, Enrimir,\" she says wryly. \"Lady Mormegil wishes me to say that if you do not come back to the healing halls, she will send the guard for you. At once, if you please.\"

The man sighs and rises, to the glee of his friends. When he is gone, Morwen drops into the one empty chair in the place and sighs, then looks up. Twice she tries to get the attention of the serving girl and twice she fails.

The scout pats Nelladel\'s arm reassuringly, granting her another smile. \"That, of course, is over now,\" he says quietly. \"And it is no shame to be guarding the city. None at all.\"

Following Nella\'s glance, Ceredir also looks toward the door, then lifts a hand in recognition to Morwenn, signalling that she should join them if she wishes. In doing so, his eyes sweep by Bor...and settle there for quite a while before his attention is back on his table.

[Bronadui(#28411)]

Though he knows a few people around here, Bronadui\'s one to be slipping off every minute he has the time off duty to be leaving town and hanging out in green pastures with horses, his passion. So it\'s no surprise that the young lady the others look to greet, he knows not. He offers a hesitant smile, then continues on with his eating, demolishing his meal at a good pace.

A swig of his ale to wash it down with, then the inevitable question for Ceredir, \"So... what happened? I\'ve heard the news of course, but anything you can share, sir? What\'s the current status?\"

[Bor(#30834)]

Bor meets Ceredir\'s gaze evenly, ere he rises.

He moves swiftly to grab the arm of the serving girl and his voice is stern as he whispers into her ear. A finger is pointed in the direction of Morwen.

[Curugil(#10108)]

Entering into the tavern comes Curugil Gildring. Behind him, walk two men. Both are in the livery of the Tower.

\"Why yes,\" says Curugil to one advancing through the tavern. \"Right through the window and to this post here. The dagger? Yes, it is at the Academy. A most troubling incident.\"

The guards look at the post and one says to Curugil, \"It might be nothing Lord. Yet there are strange things about. Do you think they have been aiming at you?\"

Curugil shakes his head, \"I doubt it captain. For I am a man of learning and lore. Why would I be targeted? There were others here as well.\"

\"True,\" says the second guard, a lieutenant. \"Besides, we\'ve heard of these men before. These Blackhanders.... I think it is all lies. Probably one loon in the pond. We had some trouble a couple of years ago, but I don\'t think you have anything to worry about Lord. We\'ll be making some inquiries.\"

\"I thank you,\" says Curugil.

The guards depart and Curugil stands by the post, examining it with his hand.

[Thaladel(#7905)] Nella, waiting on her food, looks around for the serving girl, and notices Ceredir gazing in someone\'s direction. \"Who is that man?\" she asks him quietly, a hand on his arm. She\'s getting hungry, though, and wishes that the cook would hurry with her meal.

[Morwenn(#24368)]

Morwen has already risen to move toward the door when the serving girl, unhappy at having been grabbed by Bor, comes to grab Morwen instead. \"They said you can sit there,\" she says, pointing at Ceredir. \"Tell me what you want.\"

Morwen stammers out her wishes, then turns and makes her way toward Ceredir--but she pauses by Curugil. \"The Blackhanders? Do you mean the Black Company?\" she asks apprehensively.

[Curugil(#10108)]

\"Nay Lady,\" says Curugil looking at Morwen. \"This is another group... somebody threw a dagger through yon window here a few hours ago with a note no less. I would not let it trouble you though.\"

\"What happened,\" the Master Scout replies, \"is that we won Ithilien.\" A grin is given to that, quickly sobered. \"And then down to Harondor we marched, to come to the aid of the Prince...and we won the day there, was well, pushing back the enemy. But...well, I am not sure where matters stand now in regard to our hold on Ithilien. It goes poorly.\"

The arrival of their food and drink interrupts this musing, and Ceredir absently replies, \"Sir Bor?\" to Nelladel\'s question before he looks up sharply to Curugil and Morwen.

\"Not the same company, then, but why that name?\"

[Curugil(#10108)]

\"I have done some research on this matter,\" says Curugil. \"The Blackhand is a reference to a secret society that existed in Numenor long ago... but ... I\'m not sure...\"

[Bronadui(#28411)]

It\'s rather busy in here at the lunch hour and there aren\'t many seats to be found. And what servers there are, are very busy trying to keep up! A lad comes out of the kitchens and he brings a tray go the table to begin setting out a bowl of stew for Nell. The boy, no more than about 8 or 9 years old offers her a shy smile, then sets out the rest, bread and cheese to go with the stew.

Bronadui is finishing up his own meal and pushes his platter aside. Taking up his mug of ale, he sips of it and listens to the others conversing around him, particularly to Ceredir\'s reply. He nods, \"I heard the first part, not ... the poorly appended to it. There was quite a lot of rejoicing at that news when the first groups starting returning here.\"

[Morwenn(#24368)]

\"Oh, good. Er, not the bit about the dagger, but the rest.\" Morwen smiles at Curugil, then slips into a chair near Ceredir. \"Thank you for making a place for me,\" she says to him, eyes lowered shyly. \"I\'ve never been here before.\"

[Curugil(#10108)]

Curugil nods to the lady and says, \"I do apologize. This is rather rude of me. I am Curugil, son of Curungol, Lord of the Gildring and Master of the High House of Lore.\"

He bows sweeping his purple cape aside.

\"Never?\" Ceredir returns to Morwen, in surprise. \"But why not?\" his head tilts. \"In any case, are you acquainted with everyone here?\"

\"My lord,\" the scout nods once to the purple-cloaked man. \"I am Ceredir, and this is Nelladel and Bronadui. Titles and houses...my tongue will trip over it so I leave that to the discretion of those who wish to add such things. We\'d be pleased if you join us and tell us more of this crime, though. If you would like?\"

Bronadui\'s thoughts on Ithilien seem to have gotten lost in the general confusion.

[Curugil(#10108)]

\"I\'d be most welcome,\" replies Curugil taking a seat. He brushes back his cape and seats himself. \"Honestly I know no more than what I said. I was here speaking with Lord Arathis when it occurred... about the banquet the High House was having for the returning warriors.\"

[Bor(#30834)]

\"I have heard that name before,\" says Bor, now within earshot. \"But not with such a title.\" The Bragollach spares no time for introductions.

\"The Sorceror, a dabbler in the nerfarious arts. This, I have heard.\"

[Bronadui(#28411)]

Yes, general confusion is a good discription and Bronadui doesn\'t notice Ceredir\'s lapse for indeed, he\'s paying attention to the introductions. A nod of his own head to the others, not sure if he\'s supposed to stand when a Lord comes in? He\'s a young country lad, himself.

Deciding he should stand, Bron sets his ale aside and half bows awkwardly, \"Pleased to meet you sir. Bronadui Ethiramrun, Silver Ship company.\" Since he\'s recently off duty and still in his uniform, his rank of Man at Arms is rather obvious.

[Morwenn(#24368)]

\"A sorceror?\" Morwen looks up at Bor in alarm, smile for Ceredir fading. Then she gives her head a shake and smiles at Ceredir again. \"I have lived most of my life in Pelargir and Lebennin. So I have never been inside the Drover\'s Arms.\"

Curugil looks at Bor and laughs for a very long time, \"Oh dear me! You cannot be serious. I am the Master of the High House of Lore. It is a sad state of affairs when we confuse science with sorcery. I am no sorceror, but a loremaster and engineer. That would be the same as myself calling you the Vala Orome because you ride a horse and slay evil things. I admit that sometimes we look into lore that is unknown, or lost. Yet that is our purpose -- for we wish to better equip our folk and our cities against the enemy. Phaw, sorceror indeed. Perhaps I should get a pointed hat next and grow a long white beard!\"

Curugil does not look offended whatsoever and in a very congenial manner he smiles, \"Come now. You are of Dol Amroth I see, and by your garb you must be of the Bragollach.\"

\"Truth be told, neither did I before...\" Ceredir starts to answer Morwen, though that thought, too, is lost by the Bragollach\'s question. Falling silent, the Master Scout watches the exchange carefully.

\"Why would even such a thing be said?\" is his question, to Curugil.

[Arathis(#30050)]

Commotion stirs outside the port to the Arms, unsettling the relative peace therein. The owner of the tavern--an aged man, hirsute and fat, marked by hobble--hurries to the door, his face dragged in worry.

[Curugil(#10108)]

\"Well,\" says Curugil, \"it is understandable I suppose that those who study lore sometimes learn things that are unusual. For sometimes the lore of old and histories of old tell us of things our forefathers did that we cannot do now. So I understand why, though I am saddened by it. I do feel like I am of another age at times.\"

[Bronadui(#28411)]

This is ... all really over Bronadui\'s head. He is yet standing after introducing his rather insignificant self to the Lord and ladies presant. Not really expecting anyone to take especial notice of him and just as glad to have an unremarkable face that is quickly forgotten. More than a few times that\'s been handy for Bronadui to blend in and be ignored. Useful, that.

A sip of his dwindling ale as he listens to the others. His plate cleared away, he picks up his bow and quiver case and dons them so that he might free up his place at the table for others who have not yet supped.

[Arathis(#30050)]

With little prudence, the door of the Arms is thrust open: a dozen men of the Silver Ship Company suddenly file in, a sharp discipline to the order of their step. Thus the owner reenters, his face paled, flanked by the tall figure of a Citadel Guardsman.

The Guardsman\'s footfall, measured and heavy, echoes throughout the establishment, ere ripening to a bark of similar quality: \"Heed!\"

[Bor(#30834)]

Bor watches Curugil as he laughs at him, his mouth the thinnest line. He waits until the man has said his peace, and then the Knight-Captain speaks.

\"The Vala have long since left the wars that they have sown into our hands. It is Orome who calls himself Bor when he rides a horse and slays evil things, as you so say, and not the other way around,\" says the young Swansman.

[Curugil(#10108)]

\"Of that I have no doubt Bor Bragollach,\" says Curugil rising. \"for I have heard of the valour of the Lords of Dol Amroth and not least of the fell swords of the House of Sudden Flame to which all the enemy shakes in fear. I pray then, Lord Bor-Orome, that we may speak more on this matter. The House of High Lore is host to a banquet for the Heroes of this late war. It would be most delightful if you might grace us with your presence.\"

[Morwenn(#24368)]

There are so many people in the inn now that Morwen simply puts her arms around her knees and sits watching with wide eyes until her food comes. She seizes on the plate of fish as something she can do in silence, watching everyone talking.

[Bor(#30834)]

Bor\'s attention then turns to the troupe of Hostsmen, heedful.

[Bronadui(#28411)]

The arrival of men of his own company and Bronadui is at once alert. His own nearly finished mug of ale is set down and he double checks his uniform in haste to make certain everything is in order and utmost tidy.

[Arathis(#30050)]

Hands joining at his back, the Guardsman advances twice upon the gathered. His chest is high so his bass uncompromising: \"Heed! For the Drover\'s Arms tavern and its public are suspected of harboring elements rebellious to the order of our Crown.

\"Thus this establishment shall be closed until further notice.

\"And as it is suspected that assemblies of these elements have occurred in this tavern, its public is to be searched.\"

Another twain of steps are advanced.

\"What is the meaning of this?\" Ceredir says loudly in protest. \"We are here enjoying a simple meal and conversation after months on a bloody campaign, we know nothing about this Black Hand Group or however they style themselves until we heard of it just now..and you accuse us all of being in some sort of conspiracy? What sort of conspiracy would be stupid enough to return to the scene of their crime hours after it has taken place?\"

[Morwenn(#24368)]

\"What?\" Morwen stands up, mouth open. \"I did not... I...\" And she looks toward her companions--mostly Bor--for help. \"What do they mean, we are to be searched?\"

[Bor(#30834)]

Bor says nothing for the moment, his eyes intent upon the Guardsman.

\"I assume they are looking for anything relating to this Black Hand,\" says the Knight-Captain to Morwen at last. He can offer the girl only a shrug.

[Arathis(#30050)]

A stiff finger points at Ceredir: \"He speaks their name!\"

At the Guardsman\'s command, three men of the Hosts rush the Master Scout, and attempt to pull him forward for examination.

\"Comply or face arrest!\"

Heeding Morwen, the Guardsman scowls from beneath his helm: \"Women may depart. They ought not be here in the first place, as it were.\"

[Morwenn(#24368)]

Still confused, Morwen stares at the guardsman. \"Said what, Black Hand? That man came in and told us about it, the High Lore man. I only came here once, on an errand, but you\'re not sending me away when they\'ve done no more than I have,\" she protests. \"It is not fair.\"

[Arathis(#30050)]

The remaining Hostmen tarry none. Three secure the exit, while the others begin to scour through the men inside the Drover\'s Arms, some more harshly than others.

A group works its way towards the Knight-Captain of Dol Amroth.

\"Of course I said their name!\" Ceredir protests, but doesn\'t struggle as he is pulled forward. \"Lord....the one in purple...he was just in here telling us about them and the attack! Ask..well, Lady Morwen says so as well! Are you implying that she lies?\" he demands of the leader of the soldiers.

[Thaladel(#7905)] Nella has been quiet in the crowded room, sitting beside Ceredir and enjoying her stew that finally arrived. She\'s said nothing throughout the many conversations- until now. The young woman gets to her feet to stare at the Hostmen who rush toward Ceredir. \"He has done -nothing- wrong!\" She snaps, her eyes flashing, drawing herself up and attempting to look fiercely at the soldiers who are questioning Ceredir. The petite girl doesn\'t manage this well.

[Bronadui(#28411)]

Whether he was off duty or not, Bronadui is inclined to do as ordered as he is a member of the company doing the searching. Presuming he\'s not one to be searched as well (though they are welcome, he\'s just a Man at Arms) he goes forward and asks a higher ranked hostman quietly, \"What\'s going on? What are we supposed to be searching for?\" This is asked in a whisper.

[Arathis(#30050)]

A frown meets Morwen. From over his shoulder, the Guardsman commands his men: \"Her speech is nonsense. She has been drugged. Leave her in peace until we are finished, then remove her to the healers.\"

With this, his attention rivets terribly upon the Master Scout. A twain of Hostmen position Ceredir, ere the Guardsman attempts to strip him of his possessions.

\"You mumble like a traitor.\"

[Arathis(#30050)]

An accompanying Master-at-Arms heeds Bronadui first with a salute.

\"We search for any possession or device with the marks of the Black Hand.\"

Then he points to the Knight-Captain of Dol Amroth, and continues: \"Search him.\"

\"Quiet, Nella!\" Ceredir says sharply. \"Stay out of this.\" The Master Scout gives no struggle, but a search of him will find only the obvious weapons he wears at his belt: sword and a dagger.

[Faramir(#10683)]

\"What is the meaning of this?\"

A voice booms over the crowd, the very words carrying authority demanding to be answered. Within the threshold to the street beyond stands a man, tall and proud. Clad in cloak of green--and clothes of colours to match--the figure\'s grim visage pierces the dimness of the place.

As the grey gaze of the son of Denethor falls upon those meaning to search Ceredir, he steps forth, his voice raising once again. \"Why do you trouble one of mine in a public place within the peaceful confines of the White City?\"

[Bor(#30834)]

Bor stands staring, his body comfortably relaxed even as men close upon him.

[Morwenn(#24368)]

\"I have not eaten or drunk anything!\" protests Morwen, moving toward Ceredir and Bor. \"None of us have done anything wrong!\" Then the son of Denethor comes, and if she has never met him, this daughter of Ithilien knows who he is. \"Captain Faramir, it\'s madness. None of us have conspired against Gondor, not one!\"

Bronadui returns the salute to the Master of Arms, still confused but nods, \"Yes, sir!\" He looks to the man so indicated and moves with another towards Bor. Hesitant, he says respectfully to the other man, \"Excuse me, Captain sir. Will you please be so kind as to assist us by removing your outter vestments and arms? We are ordered to search everyone.\"

Clearly the young Man-at-Arms is vaguely appalled at the thought of treating men of higher ranks than himself, especially a Knight of Dol Amroth, with anything less than respect he\'s expected to give. Bronadui awaits Bor\'s answer as to whether he will peacefully submit with grace, or whether the man will prove proud and vain, prefering to take offence.

[Thaladel(#7905)] Nella stares down the men who are holding Ceredir, her hands clenched fists. \"Don\'t ask me not to defend you,\" the stubborn lady snaps back at the Master Scout. But she says nothing more yet, simply glaring at those who are following their orders.

[Bor(#30834)]

\"I have naught to hide,\" says Bor to Bronadui. A smile curves his cheeks.

\"But let the Lord Captain speak, then I shall submit.\"

[Arathis(#30050)]

Even as the hands of the Guardsman tear through the possessions of Ceredir, he looks up to heed the lady Nelladel aside. \"If he has done nothing, then he has naught to fear,\" he answers her coldly, even as the strength of his probing suddenly increases.

With the entrance of Faramir, the Guardsman then halts, and stands at attention before the son of Denethor.

\"It is command of the White Tower, Lord. For there has been an assassination attempt upon the Lords Gildring and Isilrim earlier in this tavern--a grievous act of the group the Black Hand, traitorous to Gondor.

\"We are, first in our investigation, to search the premises of the Drover\'s Arms, and to shut it to further assembly of this group.\"

All searches momentarily stop.

\"My Lord,\" Ceredir\'s reply is to Faramir. \"We were but having a peaceful lunchtime meal when these soldiers burst in and ordered us all searched. And myself first because I mentioned the name of the Black Hand, when only moments ago, the Lord Gildring himself had been here, telling us of the attack. I give you my word that was the first I had ever heard of both the attack and the Black Hand.\"

To Nelladel, he turns briefly, putting up a placating hand in a gentle calming gesture. \"Peace. It will be settled. And fairly so.\"

[Faramir(#10683)]

A single nod is given the explanation at hand, as Faramir moves further into the Drover\'s Arms. His slow, purposeful gaze shifts across the assembly, lingering several moments upon each form. Then, it is to the Guardsman that his grey gaze falls last, fixing him with a hardened look. \"Then search the premises.\" states the son of Denethor. \"However, these men and women are not part of the premises, but patrons.\"

Stepping beyond the Guardsman, the Captain halts before Ceredir. The grey eyes of Numenor hold the form of Ceredir, searching his words and eyes. \"Let him go.\" he states to the men holding him. \"This man is not he whom you seek.\" Then, he moves towards Bor, watching the Knight with intent. \"And you?\" he queries softly.

[Bronadui(#28411)]

A respectful nod to the Knight-Captain from Bronnadui, more than happy to pause in the unpleasant business to hear Lord Captain Faramir speak and be answered. The young Man-at-Arms speaks up as Ceredir\'s voice fades in making explanation.

\"He tells the truth, sir. In so far as the Lord Gildring just having been in here speaking of it himself. This Master-Scout was not discussing the subject previously as I was sitting right next to him the past hour my very self, sirs.\" Bronnadui looks a little nervous, speaking up at all.

[Thaladel(#7905)] Despite Ceredir\'s words, Nella still looks frightened. However, when Faramir comes to the Master Scout\'s defense, the young lady beams at him gratefully. She seems relieved, waiting for the guardsman to release their suspect.

[Arathis(#30050)]

The Guardsman nods first to the son of Denethor, and releases Ceredir. But the remnants of a scowl curves his lips, and so tempers his words: \"By order of the White Tower, the patrons are to be searched too, should any of the public that frequents this tavern bear any links to that group.

\"Should you wish to aid our investigation by searching the Knight, Lord Captain, our endeavour would be quickened.\"

[Morwenn(#24368)]

Morwen moves nearer to Nella, as one of the very few other women present. \"Will they search us?\" she asks in a low voice, soothed by Faramir\'s presence and voice.

[Bor(#30834)]

\"My honor is not to be questioned, Lord Faramir,\" says Bor.

\"Will you strip me to my undergarments or let me go?\"

\"Thank you, my Lord,\" Ceredir says, tone quiet, as Faramir pronounces his verdict. He half turns, reaching back to offer a hand under Nelladel\'s elbow if she lets him. \"If it is permitted, I will escort the Lady home. Lady Morwen if she would like so, as well.\"

[Faramir(#10683)]

\"I would propose that the men of service, as well as their companions, need not be searched.\" states the son of Denethor. Turning once more towards the man in charge, Faramir once more fixes him with his gray stare. \"These men have had a long and arduous campaign. They need relaxation, not interrogation for their duty to Gondor.\" Stepping closer, his voice raises so all present may hear his decree. \"Let them go. Search the premises, by all means. But these men and women are not at fault merely for choosing this place and hour to break bread, and enjoy each other\'s company.\"

[Arathis(#30050)] The Guardsman nods and does as he is told.

Faramir glances about. \"Hopefully, daddy doesn\'t hear about this. )\"

[Thaladel(#7905)] Nella turns to regard Morwenn. \"I should hope not!\" She whispers back, seeming shocked by the idea. She gives the girl a smile and adds quietly, \"It\'ll be quite a long time before I think about coming back here.\"

\"Come then, to home,\" Ceredir says in a still-quiet voice, turning to lead Nelladel out. He gives a nod of thanks again to Faramir and then one, too, to Bronadui, ere they depart.

[Bronadui(#28411)]

Captain Faramir brings glad news to Bronnadui\'s ears as well. It is not his place to question, but to follow his orders from his superiors - even if he was also himself taking sup and ale within this roof only minutes before.

The young man looks to the Knight-Captain Bor and smiles, \"Forgive me, sir.\" And inclines his head politely before stepping aside to aid in the search of the building and staff. He does so gently, trying not to alarm anyone and being polite and reasonably respectful, not rough or harsh as some might be.

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