You stand on a narrow bottleneck of land no more than two thousand paces wide, shooting westwards to connect to the rocky promontory on which the Castle of the Prince and the city of Dol Amroth stands. To the north and south are the waters of the sea--even from hear you can smell their salt tang and hear the cries of sea-birds.

Directly to the west stands a massive wall that covers the entire width of the narrow bottleneck of land, visible only as a massive monolithic shadow, black against the navy star-filled sky. A gate, illumined by torches and flanked by two statues is guarded by a company of men-at-arms wearing the royal blue tunics of those who serve the Prince, leads through the wall into the city and eventually to the castle beyond.
 

Through the gates a lone man strides, he is easily recognizable by the white feather through his cape as a merchant of Pelargir. He looks about to see who might be here.

A lost looking young woman stands near the gate, looking in almost every direction, muttering something about a map. She does not look in the direction of the gate, and doesn't see the appearance of a rather familiar merchantman.

Arax eyeing the lost woman stocks over to her and stands directly behind her, "Aiesha" his voice is level and lacking of emotion. He remains behind her, and says nothing further.

From the east, leading a rather tall horse, enters a young maiden. Hardly beyond her teens, she seems, if even that. Her garb is that of a messenger, though the look on her face does not show any sign of urgency. Indeed she has come simply to view the tournament, as have many others; she perks up at the sound of a voice, her hearing being quite good, and scans the direction in which the sound came. Her eyes fall upon a young lady and tall man.

Aiesha stands frozen, her eyes widening in recognition. She swallows nervously. "Hello, Arax....I'm in trouble again, aren't I?" she asks, already knowing the answer. She turns slightly so as to look her boss in the eye.

Arax tries to look angry, in fact he tries really hard, "I see you found you way back home ok." he states, "And as you can see so have I"

Araloth's eyebrow arches slightly, and she brings her horse to a halt, gazing curiously at the strangers. Yet one does seem somewhat familiar, as does the name. Wheels in the messenger's head spin quickly as she attempts to remember where she has seen this woman before.

Aiesha shuffles uncomfortably, almost cringing at her employer's tone. "Welcome back?" she offers hopefully, attempting a smile. "Did you have a good time?" She takes a few steps backwards, almost ready to bolt.

Arax eyes Aiesha levely his gaze locked onto her eyes. Then slowly, ever so slowly a smile begins to break out on his face. Finally a huge grin is there and he busts out laughing. Then taking a step and closing the distance between himself and Aiesha he grabs her and give her a huge Bear-hug. "Welcome back? Is that all you have to say?" he laughs as he sets Aiesha back down from how he'd picked her up in the hug.

Araloth, as if sensing the casual tension between the two, walks forward, smiling intently at the young maiden. "Pardon my intrusion, you two. But m'lady.. you seem very familiar. Have I met you before?" She casts a glance at the two as the maiden as brought into the air via a very large hug.

Aiesha eyes her boss sceptically, though can't help but crack a smile herself. As she is let down to the ground, she smiles up at the woman with the horse. "You may have," she grins. "I've been here, there and everywhere else, and met so many ppeople my mind boggles at trying to remember them all

Arax steps back now a bit, and with his hands shades his eyes from the sun as he looks up now to the woman upon the horse. Though for the moment he stays quiet, saying nothing, only taking in everything.

Araloth chuckles softly, and nods her head in response. "Indeed, I believe I have seen you somewhere before. The White Wolf Inn in Minas Tirith, perhaps? It is where I have spent most of my days as of late." She casts a glance at the man, smiling brightly. "But do tell me who this man is. Brother, perhaps?"

One small figure, dressed all in black and with a generally dirty appearance, slips easily through the crowd until he reaches a somewhat wealthy-looking man. Reaching up, the befreckled figure slowly lifts the purse from the merchant's belt and begins to tip-toe off....

Aiesha looks at her boss, and giggles. "No, this is my, um, boss...?" she glances up at Arax briefly, seeming to be sking for confirmation. "Arax of the Merchant's guild..." Spying a small figure with the merchant's purse, he hollers after him, "Ho, fellow! If you desired money so much, you could've asked!" She moves quickly, catching the figure by the ear.

Arax reaches out slowly yet purposely and grabs the lad. Pulling him in close he takes the purse from him, and leaning closer to the boy he says, "I didn't get this far my boy without learning a thing or two" then winking again he throws a few coins out into the street to draw the lad's attention as he puts the purse into his vest.

Arax says, "Yes Milday I am her boss, Arax Rykoffe at your humble service" he bows to the lady with the horse now.

The young figure lets out a loud moan as he is grabbed by two people at once... the merchant and the lady standing nearby. "Leggo m' ear!" he growls. A sneer comes to his face, half smile, half mocking expression, and he turns to glare up at the two people. "C'mon now... be nice, will ye?" Completly ignoring the coins tossed to the street, with a sniff - for he is obviously above charity - the boy, for it turns out to be a filthy young lad, looks Arax in the eye.

The child cannot be more than nine years of age from his shortness, yet his eyes hold a worldly wisdom beyond his age... And his features are matured enough, perhaps two years on that nine would be more appropriate. He draws a wooden sword from his back and holds it up to the merchant, "An' I ain't lived 'ere so short t' git cought all th' time. Gimme yer gold, sir, 'else I'll run ye through!"

Arax busts out laughing, "Ok ok" he says, and reaching into his vest again pulls out a small purse, not the same one as before, he jingles it in his hand, a few coins rattling in it, and hands it over to the boy, "I give in Sir!" he cries out, trying to sound sincere

Araloth smiles slightly at the two, grinning as they both grab the lad. As they do this, she begins to idly rub the horse's mane. "It is a pleasure to meet you, good sir. Allow me to introduce myself.. to both of you, I suppose." She shoots a grin at Aiesha as she says this, and even now she turns to the young lad. "I am Araloth, Messenger of the House Rovacil, and I am currently sending messages throughout the realm of Gondor." Smirking, she continues. "If it isn't little Dric. Good day to you, young sir." With that she bows, grinning slightly.

Aiesha takes a closer look at the lad as she lets go of his ear. "Well, so it is!" she chuckles merrily. "I see you've done well for yourself as well!"

The lad nods with approval and promptly tucks the small purse away in a pocket somewhere on his person... The black of his clothing - faintly remeniscent of that worn by the Guard of Minas Tirith - seems to swollow light and decieve the eye as to where pockets may be. Sheathing his blade, wooden as it may be it is almost as long as he is tall, on his back, he gives a bow with much flourish. "Thankee kindly, sah." Flashing a grin, he adds, "Aye, Mastah Dric they call me 'ere. Once drummah boy o' th' Guard, now mastah o' th' boys 'round 'ere. As fit fer c'mand as me own bruddah."

Arax bows grandly and smiles at the lad, "Glad I am to meet you then sir, perhaps we could make some money togther, you with your lads and all, we could work together" he says with a wink.

Aiesha grins at her boss, still looking at the lad. "And why aren't you still in Minas Tirith, Dric? The last time I saw you was when Malahir knocked you

Araloth chortles with glee at Arax's offer, and claps her hands together merrily. "Yes, that sounds like a rather good idea to me. What do you say, Dric?"

Waving a hand in the air, the boy shakes his head, "Thankee, no, sah. I got me entahprise goin' 'ere. 'F I was t' let ye bring in yer honest buisness, well, sah, m' boys an' I'd be out o' buisness, if ye unnerstan', sah." Yet Aiesha's words drain the proud smile from his face, and young Dric shakes his head sadly. "M' bruddah an' I 'ad a fallin' out, as it were, m'lady. Good ol' Corp'ral Malahir, now, 'e 'elped me git m' boots, and when I was in Rohan an' all, but naw... M'bruddah, y'see, 'e's a 'ard man. Like paw."

Arax suddenly looks up as a train of wagons rolls into the city, the driver hails Arax, and calling back to him Arax smiles. "Excuse me ladies, and master dric, but I see my wagons have finally arrived" he bows slightly and turns now to head towards the wagon train.

Aiesha chuckles at Dric's speech. "And I can see why, too...'specially if you happen to say something that isn't entirely corect when it comes to a smithying!" She grins, ruffling the lad's hair. "At least you're looking after yourself...unlike Malahir..."

The lad's eyes widen, showing light, skyblue pupils. "Wha's 'appened t' Corp'ral Malahir? 'E didn' get 'imself dead now, did 'e? I'd be awful mad wi' 'im if 'e's gone an' done tha'." His gaze turns angrily up at Aiesha, and a hint of red enters his otherwise dirty cheeks, "Wha's wrong wi' 'im?"

Aiesha laughs at the young lad, shaking her head. "No, he hasn't gone and killed hisself yet," she grins, copying the lad's pattern of speech. "But if he doesn't take a vacation soon, he'll be close to it!" She sighs. "He overworks himself worse than your brother!"

Slamming an angry fist into an open palm - both hands beyond filthy - and leaving something of a red mark from it, the boy lets out a rough curse... One of the barracks variety. He doesn't even have the good grace to look embaressed for having sworn in the company of women, but continues to grumble to himself. "Guess I'll 'ave t' go up 'ere an' straighen 'im out." With that, he ducks away into the shadows and disapears, his raven garb making only his tawny hair visible after a few seconds... and then, not even that.