(Archive) A Meeting

A Meeting at Osgiliath

Featuring Amarthion, Findamir, and of course, SIRION. (This log was taken expressly for, and provided to, the Elendor admins for the purpose of featuring Sirion as Prince Imrahil.)

Log by Findamir (now Thorondur), 28 February 1997.

From the ground: The muffled sound of hooves on the crumbled track of Osgiliath\'s roads echoes through the night. Slowly a rider approaches--a tall man whose armor reflects the starlight.

Sirion stands idly by, the hand is on the jeweled hilt of his sword. His horse champs a bit but he rubs it with the stub of his arm, he motions for a squire to take the reigns from him as he walks about the ruins.

Next to him stands the Lord Girithlin. He looks out at the distant ruins and says, \"Now is this the ruin to which lay Gondor\'s fate? To be crumpled as if heaps of stone upon a rivery grave?\"

Sirion sighs and shakes his head, \"Sad is this to be here and look upon the glory that once was.\" He glances over at Amarthion and says, \"But soft, hear I a newly come rider. Look yonder. His armor is bright and he comes swift from the West. Mayhap he brings tidings from the city?\"

With a harshly whispered command to his mount does the rider call a halt. The skills of an experienced horseman show plainly--even in the dark--as he throws a leg over the saddle and leaps to the ground. He slowly emerges into your clear vision.

The rider\'s horse whuffles and paws the ground haughtily with a forehoof.

Sirion cries to the stranger, \"How now and who comes before the banner of Ship and Swan mighty Amroth? Name thyself stranger and we shall name ourselves!\"

Amarthion stands looking out over the ruins of the once magnificent city, and neither says nor does anything as Sirion speaks as his eyes scan the city before him. Finally, as Sirion announces the rider, he slowly turns to face him, the moon and stars reflecting off his bright helm and lighting his face in pieces and leaving much in shadows.

Sirion grips the hilt of his ancient blade for treachery is the rule in the ruins of Osgiliath.

The man strides into the firelight with the ringing and clanking of mailand scabbard the ruddy light reveals a face bright and familiar to any seasoned Belfalas campaigner, lit with a grin: Lord Findamir! \"No stranger I think, Sir Marshall!\"

Findamir lets loose a quiet but hearty laugh, running a hand through his golden hair as he looks the pair of them over. He waves a hand dismissively and grins at Sirion\'s sword. \"Unless, that is, I\'m truly the Orc that my last lady-love called me...\"

The dark figures in the distance retreat back to their fires as the Lord Girithlin calls out a word to them, and a score of tall men in gleaming armor cease their circling of the stranger. Lord Amarthion himself never made even a slight move towards his sword, and he merely nods as the man announces himself.

Sirion\'s eyes widen, and then the characteristic even smile is made - and then - broken into a wide grin. He raps Amarthion\'s shoulder in a friendly way with the back of his hand and comes striding up saying, \"And as to that many more orcs will you find here than lady or love.\" He stops for a moment and shakes his head not believing, \"But yea I am truly glad to see thee!\" He clasps the Knight\'s shoulder and says, \"Brother, the last we had heard was that you were assigned to the duty of the reconstruction of Pelargir. I suppose now thy task is complete and that to grander things you would move eh?\"

Findamir\'s grin is broad and honest as he clasps the Marshall\'s forearm in he greeting of comrades-in-arms. \"Indeed! Our cohort arrived in Anor but a week agone, and I sent a new soldier off to Amroth in search of thee! Yet when \'twas said thou didst ride for Osgiliath, I came straight away hither.\"

Immediately knights mill about hearing Sirion\'s words and word is spread.Hushed whispers can be heard, \"Findamir returns!\"

Sirion bows his head and his smile is broken and the grimness of his facecomes swiftly as if a sudden tide. He looks out at the ruins, \"Aye Sir Findamir. We had but come lately to this errantry and at need. Boromir, the Captain of the White Tower, wishes to clean this land of the Enemy and secure the river once and for all. To this and with our Dread Sovereign\'s grace I took my sword up with Lord Boromir and soon we shall begin anew to wipe this land and leave it in peace so that it may lie buried in its rocky casket.\"

Findamir steps back from the greeting-grip and folds his strong armsacross the Golden Tree upon his chest, still grinning. \"Pelargir stands anew--oft I wonder why our forefathers did naught in such a vein for this city.\" His face darkens as he looks about him. \"Yet there is an evil feel here, now...\"

Sirion pauses for a moment in his oratory and holds still smelling the wind. He shuts his eyes and a shudder passes through him. He looks to Findamir with a sad glance, \"Ah alas there is our answer. The ghosts of this town haunt ever much. And yea... verily Gondor has not the people to dwell anymore in so great a city.\"

Amarthion looks over the Knight before him and merely nods, as if the connection of face and name is finally made on this person who seems very familiar if not intimately so. \"Ah, Lord Laurelin! Scarce have we spoken, and in the poor light it was difficult for me to place the face with the name. Forgive my seeming rudeness, it was unmeant to seem that way. Come, sit by the fire. On the morrow or soon thereafter, the Captain of the White Tower wishes to rid this city of pestilence, and a bright blade such as yours, which has won such fame, shall be well received in our smal l striking force. Welcome.\"

Findamir nods, face falling for a moment as he turns it from the fire to the shadows beyond.. the shadows East. A slow, considering nod forAmarthion, and he says, \"So thou\'rt The Girithlin, now? I had wondered, today and anon, what manner of man thou wert.\"

Findamir smiles slowly as he takes a seat at the other knight\'s inistence.\"Surely,\" he says with a low laugh, \"Not as headstrong as the young Thorondur as good with thy blade, though, I should hope--if thy words of assault be true.\" He winks, and must agree.

Sirion motions to the large fire and there sitting about it are the Knights who have come with him in so many battles. Landros of Linhir, Findraff Fellhand, Sygar Seorwine, and yea even the squire Hadrian Healfios is there as well. There they make room and offer a seat to thenewly come Knight.

Sirion smiles at these words, \"No doubt no more a man than need be in these darkened days. Yet a man none-the-less and valiant even in the reckoning of Imrahil\'s thanes!\"

Findamir looks about at each face slowly, a smile for those he has served with--who are many--and a nod to those newly-made, who have replaced lost comrades. Musingly, he addresses Sirion, \"A good thing, then. Prithee, I would meet this Erindil Telpekhor. \"

Amarthion seems a bit taken aback, if such is possible for a Girithlin, at being called \'The Girithlin\' but he takes it with good grace and sits at the same fire as Sirion and the most noteworthy of his entourage. Silently he lowers himself to the ground about the fire, and gladly warms his hands a bit in the chilly autumn night\'s air.

Findamir rubs his chin thoughtfully, \"Is he with thee? I have.. reason to speak with him. Or his brother, Rilluin, though that one is elder and a friend of mine. Yet bethought me that the latter is presently in Andrast.\"

Sirion rubs his chin, \"I fear that he could not come on this mission Sir Findamir. There has been some... deed that he was wont to do concerning his sister if I am not mistaken. Yet it is no matter, this was one of speed and he was not present. Indeed, all now prepare as the day of my marriage draws nigh.\"

Findamir draws a quick breath at the mention of Telpekhor\'s sister, but it goes almost unnoticed as his emerald eyes widen, face brightening, at this news. \"A wedding? For -thou-?\" He laughs aloud, merrily! \"How amazing! Why Sirion, I am glad for thee!\"

Findamir leans toward the other, and the flickering, furtive firelight lends his wry, conspiratorial-sounding words an even more secretive air,\"And to think we had always called thee Sirion the Serious, and despaired that thou wouldst a woman find!\"

Findamir claps the Marshall soundly on the back. Men laugh heartily.

Sirion casts back his head and laughs long and long. Then he looks over at Findamir with luminous sea-grey eyes, \"Aye! Who would have thought such a deed. Many a time I was told that I was married to the sword instead. I hope the sword does not prove a jealous lover.\"

Sirion smiles and for the first time in days looks content even among the baleful ruins of Osgiliath.

Findamir\'s hand strays almost unconsciously to his swordhilt--almost. He glances down at it, and adresses the sword: \"How now, blade? Art thou jealous? For mark my words, prove me not so--my own eyes have taken to wandering away from thee!\"