Lunch in Gondor

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.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

The morning grows late in Minas Tirith, now deserving the epithet of Golden City as the sun rays are reflected by the white walls in a warm summer day.

Inside the Drover\'s Arms, there are few patrons, most eating their midday meal or pouring ale down thirsty throats. Close to an open window, four Rangers sit, grinning as they talk and eat.

Ceredir pushes the door open, taking a moment to adjust to the light as he steps inside. It would seem--from the warm reception he gets from the barkeep--that the scout is well known here, nad in fact, Ceredir grins broadly at the man, making his way around the tables. \"An ale today. And whatever is good for lunch,\" he says, somehow managing to miss seeing the Rangers just yet.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

The Rangers at their table talk softly, in low voices used to be kept low and secret, though an eventual laughter rings out. By the time Ceredir arrives, their plates are empty already and one says, \"Well, now to our sweethearts, eh?\", to which Gurtir replies bitterly, \"If still they\'re yours after such an absence.\"

Snorting, mocking Gurtir, the other three stand up and make for the exit, as the Carmayar Ranger, with now bad humour, waves at the barman for another ale. He recognizes Ceredir and nods grimly.

It is when Ceredir has a pint of dark ale in hand, the scout sipping off the top, that he looks up and recognizes Gurtir. \"Sir,\" he coughs, choking a little on his ale at the ranger\'s expression. Left and then right the scout\'s eyes dart, but the ale is in both hands and quite obvious, so he sighs a little and just lowers it from his lips. \"I haven\'t had the chance yet to speak to the Captain.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

\"I figured. Both in and out of Ithilien he\'s hard to track.\", the Ranger snaps, lifting his arms and stretching, \"When did you join us... Ceredir?\"

The Scout glances to a table by his right arm and then slowly sets his still-full ale down there, though the motion is accompanied by a grimace. \"January, of this year, sir. When I turned 18.\" The grimace shifts into a slight frown. \"Is something wrong?\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

The Ranger waves the question off, shaking his head, \"No, not all.\". Then his ale arrives, he has a sip, his mien lightens a bit, \"Sit over here and tell me how you have liked the Company so far, if you\'d like.\"

\"Sir....?\" Ceredir clears his throat nervously, staring. \"I...well...\" The scout presses his lips together for a moment--then reaches for the ale he has set down. \"In truth, there isn\'t much to tell,\" he starts, pulling out a chair at the indicated table. \"Mostly I have been training here in Minas Tirith. Or on the trip to Rohan. The other day was the first I got to actually patrol in Osgiliath, and we\'ve encountered no orcs so far.\" He takes a quick drink of ale.

[Midhwen(#29054)] Entering the tavern, Midhwen takes a moment for her eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight before making her way towards the bar. She gives her order to Elissa before casting her gaze about for a free table.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

\"Well then, you have been lucky so far.\", Gurtir says, taking another sip of his ale, \"A man is never the same afterwards. Enjoy your innocence while you can.\". He then looks more carefully at Ceredir, examining him, \"So, why is a Bragollach at the Black Tree Company?\"

His eyes dart to the entrance of the tavern when Midhwen enter, but soon they turn to the window, as if hoping for a breeze to cool the day a little.

\"Lucky...\" Ceredir repeats the word, taking a sip of his ale, his eyes narrowing at the Ranger\'s next question. \"Because, sir, I am the \'natural\' son of Elenur of Bragollach, and the bast..he refuses to recognize me. I did not know it until after I had joined the scouts--and the man who raised me told me.\"

The scout\'s follows Gurtir\'s gaze as he looks to the entrance, only Ceredir doesn\'t turn away from the woman. \"Lady Midhwen. Won\'t you join us?\" He stands politely.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

Gurtir raises his eyebrows at this, \"Doesn\'t he? Any special reason?\". Then he frowns, \"And did you join us because of this?\"

As Ceredir invites Midhwen to join them at their table, the Carmayar Ranger offers her a smile.

\"Well....yes...and no. Not exactly,\" Ceredir frowns, pulling his gaze from the woman to answer Gurtir. He sighs and retakes his seat while Midhwen determines where to sit. \"You see...at first when I learned who I was, I thought to please my true father. Join the Scouts and make him proud of me.\" He pauses, frown creasing his brow again, and quickly draws a long drink of his ale. \"I was sadly mistaken. And rejected by two families, as well.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

Gurtir nods slowly, listening to the other man before another sip of ale, \"Well, quite a sad tale.\", he comments ironically, \"Which other house rejected you?\"

The comment draws a sharp laugh from the Scout. \"Not a House. I was raised by a tanner named Lathnoss, and his family. Thought they were my family, in fact. But when _Sir_ Elenur of Bragollach stopped paying them at my majority, Lathnoss told me who my father was. And sent me packing.\" Ceredir snorts and finishes his ale quickly, putting a hand up to order another.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

The Ranger also finishes his ale, nodding at Ceredir and joining his request for a new mug, \"And are you over it already or still it flares you up?\"

\"Over it?!\" Ceredir\'s anger flares and he half rises in his chair before the scout remembers just who it is that he is talking to and sits back down. \"I have been disowned by two families--a noble House that should rightfully be my heritage, and the people who raised me to believe that I was their son. I had ...sisters...I thought they were my sisters...that I grew up with, and I am not allowed to see them, nor my erstwhile mother. Just how, sir, with all due respect, does one get past such a thing?\" Ceredir\'s eyes narrow even more, cold hatred growing in them as he speaks. \"I am told that I have the look of House Carmayr as well, yet I can\'t trace of find my mother because Elenur will not tell me. And yet this is something that I should just control my temper about?\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

The Ranger raises an eyebrow at the outburst, watching the scout in silence, \"By all means, no, don\'t hold your temper about it. Yell, pull your hairs, smash whatever you can get your hands on, go get revange, hit, torture kill.\"

\"It won\'t change a damn thing.\"

Ceredir is angry enough now to grab at the ale set in front of him and take a long drink before he answers. He opens his mouth several times, in fact, to reply, then sighs quietly before he finally speaks. \"That is the problem. There is nothing at all that I can do, and it eats at me. This place...this land, House is so important, and yet I\'m a nobody, allowed to claim no heritage. Not even the reek of the tanners.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

\"Aye, it is important... but it\'s in the blood. In the person. In the acts. The title is secondary.\" Gurtir says, shrugging. He then glances out of the windows, frowning at the midday clarity, his eyes lost in reveries: \"I owe my life to a man who could be called a commoner.\"

Then he has a long sip of his ale to refresh himself from the summer heat, \"Perhaps you do need to meet with some orcs.\". the Ranger grins faintly.

[Uinar(#32123)]

The door creaks open noisily, light spilling in, along with a tall, lean man. Uinar takes long strides into the establishment, his winter\'s cloak gone, replaced with a simple cape of blue. Glancing about the tavern as he enters, he chooses an empty table adjacent to that occupied by Gurtir and Ceredir, signaling to the server with a quick hand motion.

The Scout sighs, but some of his anger seems to dissipate, too, as he exhales. \"What happened?\" he asks quietly now. \"How did he save your life?\" And then, blinking, \"excuse me? Need to?\" Ceredir asks, his grin faint as well, matching the Ranger\'s. Briefly he turns to note Uinar as the man settles himself at the next table--his gaze lingering there for longer than it might otherwise, some slight recognition registering in his expression.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

Gurtir shakes his head slowly, as if to himself, drinking more of his ale, \"He was the finest bowman I have ever seen, if you don\'t count the Lord Captain. Anyway. We were ambushed, this orc leapt at me from behind, axe ready to chop my head off... and his arrow whistled past my ear, right into the orc\'s neck.\"

Gurtir holds his peace for a little, just sipping his ale, looking at the man sitting on the nearby table, out through the window at a bird flying outside... \"Yes, need to. Best place...thing to throw anger at.\"

[Uinar(#32123)]

Uinar\'s eyes turn to the conversation at the nearby table, as he waits for the serving-girl to come. Catching the looks from both of the men at the neighboring table, he returns the look through his sea-grey eyes, his bearing stern, \"You are a friend to my young nephew, I believe,\" he offers, his voice deep, as he looks Ceredir over carefully, \"Forgive me, if I am mistaken, but you have the same look as a man I have seen him with.\"

The ranger\'s tale draws widened eyes from Ceredir, but as that man continues, he shakes his head and his mood shifts. \"I have plenty of things to throw my anger at, least of all that bastard Elenur,\" he mutters sullenly. It takes several long drinks of his ale to calm his rising temper again, after which his eyes again drift to Uinar. \"Your nephew? Arashen? You were at the wedding I think? You seemed familiar, in fact. I\'m Ceredir. Of Bragollach. And this is the Ranger Gurtir.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

A shrug is Gurtir\'s only reply at Ceredir\'s new words, though still a hint of a grin rests upon his lips. He bows his head shortly as he is introduced to Uinar, \"Indeed.\". Besides him, on the open window, the bird comes to rest.

[Uinar(#32123)]

Uinar\'s attention is drawn away, as the young serving-maid arrives at his table. His order is given quietly, and with a minimum of words, before his attention turns back to the men before him.

\"Indeed, Arashen,\" he says, his words reverting to his normal slow, deliberative pace, \"Bragollach, indeed.\" he adds, after a long moment, with a slow nod of approval, \"You will know me already, then,\" he says, turning and inclining his head to the Ranger, he announces himself, \"Uinar, Chamberlain of the Telpekhor, and Captain of the Rothgimil, good Ranger of Ithilien.\"

\"Well met, sir,\" Ceredir answers, draining the rest of the ale in his mug. He then stands, making his excuses politely and hurries away without explanation.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

\"Another ale here\", Gurtir tells the barkeeper as Uinar\'s order is delivered.

\"Well met, Uinar\", says the Ranger, \"I believe I haven\'t had the pleasu--\" he glances at Ceredir\'s departure, frowning, \"Now that\'s one complex fellow.\"

[Uinar(#32123)]

\"Spirited.\" Uinar responds, turning to watch the Scout leave. \"Come,\" he says, turning to Gurtir, \"Join me, then.\" he says, turning in his seat to face the table before him, waving the other man to the chair at the nearest side to Gurtir.

\"What news from Ithilien?\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

\"I hope he will fight as heartly...\", the Ranger says, watching the door close behind the scout \"If he will find reason indeed to fight.\".

Without further cerimony, Gurtir than stands up, motioning for the empty chair at Uinar\'s table, in which he sits, \"No news. And that is quite some news... though there have been strange reports from Rohan.\"

[Uinar(#32123)]

Uinar nods slowly, fingers drumming the table. \"He seems eager to fight his fellow Men, though I heard only a few of his words,\" the Chamberlain replies. \"But you spoke of an archer, if I am not mistaken?\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

The barkeeper brings Gurtir\'s new mug of ale, and the Ranger takes a sip of it as he nods at Uinar\'s words, \"Glad to know I\'m not the only one who got such a feeling.\"

\"Aye. I spoke of an archer. A good friend...\" he frowns, shaking slowly his head ere focusing his look upon the man before him, \"Are you interested in archery as well? I am particulary pitiful with a bow. I much rather have a javelin.\"

[Uinar(#32123)]

\"I am more interested in Men who have skill with the bow, myself. For my ship is built for speed and surprise we have little need for heavy armament to hold against the corsairs of the south, for I would wager our speed against theirs. But a sharp eye, and true aim, is always valued, should there be dark sails upon the horizon.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

\"Ah, yes.\", Gurtir nods at Uinar\'s words, \"Then we are struggling for men, because Ithilien has need of such men. The Company, likewise your both, relies on surprise and speed.\"

\"Or is it for a particular event that you need to arm your ship?\"

[Uinar(#32123)]

The older man smiles slightly, \"I would have skilled archers aboard,\" he says, \"And while we are a ship of trade, Gondor has need also of fast ships just as your guile and speed in the wilds of Ithilien serve you, swiftness can strike against the enemy upon the waters to the south.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

Grinning, Gurtir once again motions his head in an affirmative gesture, \"Guile and speed, the best tatic ever.\", he has a long sip of his ale, \"What do you trade?\"

[Uinar(#32123)]

As a plate is brought to Uinar his smile widens, slightly, \"The lands of my family are rich,\" he says, \"Linens, grain, wine our holds are smaller than many trading vessels, though there shall be a fleet of ships, beneath the banners of the Telpekhiri and Azrabi.\"

******(small break in the log)****

[Gurtir(#30678)]

Gurtir hears the other attentively, \"Between quality and quantity, it is better to stick to the first. I should like to buy a bottle of this wine, however, if one can be sold.\"

He finishes his ale and grimaces, perhaps the talk of wines meddling with his taste, \"But what you said of your fleet, under Telpekhiri /and/ Azrabi?\"

It\'s a while before Ceredir returns, but the scout does return, making his way through the tavern, another ale in hand. He takes his time about it, joking with some of the serving girls here easily but eventually coming to stand before the table with the ranger and Uinar. \"Have room again for another?\" he grins.

[Uinar(#32123)]

\"You have been too long in the field, I think,\" Uinar replies to Gurtir, \"For even your friend,\" the Telpekhor gives a nod to the returning scout, \"Was at the betrothal of the Lady Laeraelin Telpekhor, to Lord Azrabar.\"

[Gurtir(#30678)]

\"Oh!\", makes Gurtir in surprise, \"Indeed. I arrived to Minas Tirith late night yesterday and went straight to Card Failin for some sleep. I didn\'t know of such union.\"

He glances up at Ceredir, at first quizzically, but then he grins a little at him, \"Replace me, Ceredir. I must be taking my leave. It was a most pleasant conversation, Uinar.\"

He stands up, bowing curtly at both men.

[Uinar(#32123)]  The elder man raises his glass, without moving to rise, in farewell to the departing Ranger.

\"Good day, sir,\" Ceredir answers. He then nods slightly to Uinar, but his gaze is drifting across the room, to the serving girls he was just talking to, and he only reluctantly pulls out a chair at Uinar\'s table.

[Gurtir(#30678)]

Gurtir leaves... MIAW!

A cat runs on the rooftops, scarying the bird wwhich had previously sat on the open window, making it fly _inside_ the in. Pooping, it flies over the sitting men.

[Uinar(#32123)]  Returning his attention to the food that arrives, Uinar looks to the newly returned Ceredir, and after a long draught at the cup, he gives a dismissive wave with his hand. \"Do not stay on my account alone,\" the older man says, \"But bring word to Arashen that I would see him. I have made promises to his mother, that he would be looked after.\"

With that, Uinar\'s attention turns to the meal that is set before him.

\"I should go,\" Ceredir says, though he gives a wistful glance to the women again. Still, he drains the rest of his ale and then takes his leave, heading out as quickly as he did earlier.