The Unknown Marshall
A tale freshly told of the Gondorian
Calardan arrives to Arathis by the Prince\'s summons Arathis greets him, explains the reasons for his coming, and then offers to house him in Amroth
Dol Amroth: Knights\' Tower - Knight-Herald\'s Spire
A sublime synthesis of martial and diplomatic refinement defines the essence of this spacious noble sanctum of Dol Amroth\'s Knight Herald. Curved walls of fair white stone bear carved relief scenes of the Edain\'s valiant struggles in wars across the ages. Spaces between each tableau hold rich and finely-woven tapestries depicting the renowned deeds of storied Heralds of yore. Tiles of deep blue marble grace the floor, softened by beautiful carpets bearing intricate patterns of Numenorean design in burgundy and gold. Seven high and clear-glazed windows look westward across the city towards Tirith Aear and the broad sea beyond.
Upon the southern wall are large and finely carven mahogany bookcases holding myriad volumes spanning the broad spectrums of art, science, lore and wisdom. A great desk of polished mahogany occupies the chamber\'s center, furnished with a high-backed seat of soft red leather. Similar chairs sit before the desk to accommodate visitors. A comfortable leather couch with a pair of matching armchairs sits hospitably before the large white stone hearth and mantelpiece that dominates the southern of the chamber.
Curious items of diverse description sit in ordered array across the room a large telescope crafted of teak and brass, a fanciful chess set of dwarven design, a round shield blazoned with the horse-motifs of Rohan, and a side board of polished lebethron holding a crystal wine decanter and several golden goblets. Mahogany double doors carved with the swans of Imrazor set with brass fittings open westward to a portico and a glorious view of the Sea.
Contents:
Calardan
Sea_Serpent
Obvious exits:
Portico of the Sun
[Arathis]
The day closes upon Amroth, its final din of clopping stone, shuttering door, and courtly farewells heralding the new dusk. The city’s fabled knighthood stands reduced: only few squires are to be seen, hastening either to the last of their tasks or withdrawing to the sad vacancy of their youthful quarters. There are some knights but most, it would seem, are not.
Among those living still is Arathis Lord Isilrim, garreted in his office’s spire atop the Swan’s keep, his door ajar. No candlelight flickers, only happenstance boot fall betraying his presence.
[Calardan(#30834)]
He serves as his own herald.
Squires are to be seen but they have been so quieted, by word or repute, so that Calardan Hlorithain is able to settle his fist upon the Herald\'s door without protest. Once, then once again, he knocks at that door.
[Arathis]
“Yea, enter then,” comes the voice from behind the door, unenthused and bent first from an opposing wall’s stone.
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan enters the room, his eyes flickering here and there to the ornaments before settling upon the Lord Isilrim. A fist to chest he offers in salute, whilst saying, \"Arathis Lord Isilrim. I am Calardan, son of Beredir, Heir of the Hills of Tarnost. I am long a stranger to these walls.\"
\"The Prince has called and I am arrived, yet I and my kin have no place to sleep. We know of no other to call upon and seek your hospitality.\"
[Arathis]
The Prince’s Herald monitors the man’s entrance from his shoulder’s vantage, neither foreign to nor fused by the salutes of guests.
He turns however at the greeting, straightening before the Hlorithain heir.
“Hir Calardan, of course,” he answers pleasantly, approaching Calardan to place a hand upon his back. The other guides to a seat.
“The moonlight is enough for you, I hope?”
[Calardan(#30834)]
\"Enough, my Lord,\" spake the Hlorithain, ushered as he is. The robust man falls within the confines of the chair. \"You seem to have been thinking.\"
[Arathis]
The Lord Isilrim shrugs at the observation and retrieves a decanter with two goblets. He fills both and places one before Calardan, an open palm accompanying, before rounding to his seat. The table between them is occupied chiefly by a map of the southlands.
“From Dolwinion, to the south of Tarnost.”
He pauses, not yet lifting his vessel: “Had the messengers explained to you the purpose of your summons?”
[Calardan(#30834)]
The glass is raised, the heir saying, \"My thanks, Lord Isilrim.\"
Calardan is familiar with the lands pictured and gives the map only the most cursory of glances. \"We assume that the Prince Imrahil calls for the blood of the Hlorithain. Swirling now, even in Tarnost, are rumors of death and loss.\"
[Arathis]
The Herald\'s chamber darkens with the deepening of the night, the flat shadows of heaven\'s moonlight contradicted by the play of the outer hall\'s flames.
Arathis thus considers the words of Calardan, listening to them long after they pass.
His lips purse then, and he says plainly, \"The Prince Imrahil is to request that you become Knight-Marshall, and that you accept the duties of our first office.\"
So raises he his own goblet.
[Calardan(#30834)]
There is more than a moment\'s hesitation from Calardan in bringing the goblet to his lips. Yet as courtesy demands, so the Hlorithain answers.
He drinks the Isilrim\'s wine.
\"I am old for such an appointment,\" says the man, not in protest but merely a statement of fact. The goblet is placed upon the Lord\'s desk, half-empty.
[Arathis]
“Friend,” appeals the Isilrim lord evenly, his features obscured in shadow, “our Order has suffered much at the rash hands of youth. Those who have known the least of life are, alas, oft the quickest to discard it.”
Relinquishing the goblet, his hand takes to hover over the narrow distance between Dol Amroth and the hills of Tarnost. “The Prince requires now, more than ever, trusted and wise men, learned by their years, lest folly should again weaken us.
“I have counseled it,” he offers, a chuckle passing then, “and Hir, you are not much older than I.”
[Calardan(#30834)]
\"Our lives are much more different than they are the same, Hir,\" notes Calardan. \"What do I -- or my daughters -- what do they know of such sadness?\"
“Your Oath is not a happy one,” rejoins Arathis flatly, rising in mark of his words. A gesture bids the Hlorithain to do the same, ere he turns -- albeit within the walls of Amroth -- to affix a blade to his baldric.
“I shall counsel you none, whether to accept or deny,” he offers, stressing as he ties the leather about his sheath. “In the meantime, you and your daughters are to be my guests, as you are the Prince’s. Whatever sustenance is yours whatever comfort your daughters.
\"They need not know any sadness in my manor, I hope and should you accept, they need not know any in yours.\"
Once readied, Arathis signals towards the doorway: “Come, Hir.”
[Calardan(#30834)]
Calardan takes such time as is offered by the Isilrim preparing, using that time to finish the proferred wine. Then he stands, wiping his mouth, and says, \"Your graciousness will be answered by no less than it demands.\" Afterwards, his steps follow Arathis out the door into the Knight\'s Tower.
Dol Amroth: Knights\' Tower - Hall of the Faithful
The vaulted ceilings of this, the entrance hall to the Knights\' Tower, are picked out in glorious frescoes of the Ainur at play in the bliss of Valinor. Its eastern and western walls are columned with smooth pillars that reach to the arches above--buttresses that support the ceiling. In each of the alcoves formed by these columns there sits a statue--for this is the Hall of the Faithful of Numenor! Built to honour the heroes of the Men of Belfalas it was--and those heroes look upon it now from down through the ages in eternal stone.
In the daylight, windows of stained glass portraying further scenes of the Blessed Realm--but these featuring the Great Men of Old--shed their prismatic glories on the Hall below. The great chandeliers hang silent and unlit.
Contents:
Calardan
Obvious exits:
Corridor of Guard [Arathis] The twain of knights descend to the apparent base of the Knight’s Tower, and are met there by an equal number of tall guardsmen donning the traditional armors of the Imrazori. Their fine blues, silvers, and winged helms right to a salute as the Knight-Herald and his companion pass out through the Swan’s quarters’ doors. Once open air is regained, Arathis comments in stride, “You have long uninvolved yourself with the affairs of our Order, Hir.” [Calardan(#30834)] \"Does not our Order require bodies? I try for sons, truly Hir, yet I have only daughters,\" says Calardan. \"The eldest, though,\" he continues, chuckling, \"Sometimes I think she fancies herself a boy.\" There is then a silence. \"But you are right, of course.\" [Arathis] “I envy you, Hir. I have none of my own.” A half-smile pushes these words, withdrawing at the next: “I nurse only my Oath.” Crisply, and perhaps queerly for the office discussed, Arathis adds, “You will not be expected to neglect one at another’s expense.” Dol Amroth: Men Ernil - Court of the Fountain Here ends Men Ernil, the Prince\'s Way, in a grand plaza at the doorstep of the Castle of the Princes. A massive elliptical fountain dominates the court, fully fifty feet on its axis and perhaps half as wide. Made of smooth white stone, it consists of two broad levels which can, and often do, act as benches for the denizens of the City. In the center of the fountain stands a large statue, water burbling \'round his feet in a comely display. The grand collonade of the Men Ernil circumscribes the fountain, and to the north and to the south are the towering walls which flank and protect the road. West lies the castle in all its grandeur, where lofty ramparts mark the beginning of Dol Amroth\'s many-towered, many-walled final defense. Sunlight gleams almost painfully from all around you, shining as it does from the polished walls and the magnificent fountain. Spray from the burbling fonts surrounding the fountain\'s central statue casts myriad rainbows about, and the court is filled with a gentle buzz of folk moving to and fro on business, speaking quietly, or simply enjoying a stroll. Pennons flutter in the breeze on the ramparts above and to the west, where the Prince\'s white Citadel rests like a snowy cap on the Hill of Amroth. Contents: Niphredil(#10854PVA+cf) Calardan Obvious exits: The Lion Rampant [Calardan(#30834)] \"And even were it so, the Imrazori would have our Oath,\" says Calardan, \"So, too, your steps seem to echo a conclusion that has been already decided.\" \"What is your council, Lord Arathis?\" [Arathis] Some revelers emerge from the levels of the Lion Rampant, causing Arathis to seize Calardan’s closest arm and wheel inwards for a more narrowed disclosure. He speaks none until the group is passed, leaving only Elendil’s bronze to too hear his quieted words: “I counsel you none whether to accept or deny, Hir. But while you remain within Amroth, and should you indeed linger within it, I counsel -- heed! -- that you guard yourself, and remain ever wary. “For, Hir, it is neither skill nor deed that has favored you for office. It is that you are surely true, while others are not. Heed!: I have said others are not. “If you would accept, stay close to those you would trust.” Thus departs the twain finally for the Lord Isilrim’s manor., Stairway , and Prince\'s Council Hall