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Weather:            Cloudy
Time:                Early Evening <about 6 PM (early dinner) >
Season:              Autumn
Date:               Sunday - October 28, 3014

Real Time:          Wed Jul 01 18:04:56 1998
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Training Ground
The training grounds spread out in a semicircle, rimmed on the sides by a wall, and bordered in the back by the towering Mount Mindolluin which rises above until it melts into the clouds. The open grounds offer a stark contrast to the stone cobbled streets of Minas Tirith- here dirt cakes the ground, muffling the footsteps of the soldiers of the city as they train. Frequent drills and large troop maneuvers are held in the grounds with the sounds of clanging metal ringing out onto the adjacent street as guardsmen cross swords in mock combat.
 

A company of black clad guards occupy the training grounds behind the barracks, seperated by the city outside with a four to five foot high stone wall. With each soldier a shoulder length apart, the five platoons of the silver ship company takes up a considerable amount of the training grounds. Clouds race overhead, but even in the autumn dusk, the air is a bit sticky. These men, most of them dressed down to their undershirts and pants tucked into their black boots as a result of the days training in the humid weather. They are currenlty listening to a man who paces inbetween two sets of officers on each side of him. He and his officers wear their full dress unifroms and insignia, but are without their bulky armor.

Though the wind flies sharply through the streets of Minas Tirith, the cool mountain air biting the inhabitants of the city who are daring enough to brave the storm-promising autumn evening, some safety is found in the rising walls surrounding the training ground. The sounds of men at practice are almost nonexistant this evening, except for a few determined men and those whose commanders are too strict to leave them the evening off. The main source of sound in the grounds is the entire Company of the Silver Ship, standing as quietly as so many men can at attention.

One man in particular, shorter than most the rest, with a greying mop of black hair covering his head, stands near the front of the assembled. He is clad in a simple black shirt and trousers, his talbard back in the barracks like many others. Black eyes like bright coals follow the officer in front as he silently listens to the man.

This man who speaks to the men assembled wears a silver epualet on his shoulders, and a silver broach pins his cloak losely around his neck. He speaks up as the wind begins to blow and night is closing fast, "Men of the silver ship, before I dismiss you from role call tonight, I wish to address you formally about the change in staffing", he begins to pace again, his nervousness obvious, "As you all have heard, lieutenant Analdin's services were required by Lord Denethor. He has been called for an undisclosed period of time, to carry out a glory bound quest. As he debarks on this quest of utmost importance to our homelands, likewise, Lord Boromir has given me the duty, based on my experience as chief of Analdin's staff, of carrying out the command of the company in his absense", he pauses and looks out over his troops solomnly.

The men of the Silver Ship watch Malahir, some closely, some almost lazily, all with interest as he gives reason for the Lieutenant's absence and their evening assembly. An assembly such as does not happen so often, except at important announcements and appointments. Some appear almost unseasy, though the lack of star- and moonlight may have an effect on them. Mathirion, the dark featured one near the front, only watches relaxedly, his hands clasped behind his back and his position one of only loose attention.

Malahir gulps hard, then continues to address the men in a commanding tone, "There will be no change in policy, or in the strength of your commanding officers orders. However, there will be changes in the staff, to suit the temporary needs of the company. The lieutenant and I have conferred, and he has agreed to the temporary changes", stopping his pacing and crossing his arms behind him, "I, Corporal Malahir, will remain chief of staff, and commander of Delta platoon , effective upon the Lieutenant's return. However, until then I would like to make my first official decission. Man-at-arms Elidran, of Delta platoon, will you please step forward", his eyes move toward his own platoon, ad he awaits the soldier to appear from his ranks.

Mathirion's brow wrinkles at Malahir's first announcement, and he clears his throat softly, his gaze lingering upon Malahir with disaproval. It is a few moments, however, while the Acting Lieutenant waits for Elidran to come forward, before he speaks up, "Corporal Malahir..." he begins with no akwardness to his tone even as he speaks out of turn and without permission, "Aren't you putting a little more than healthy responsibility on yourself? Even Lieutenant Analdin wouldn't be his own chief of staff and platoon commander."

Elidran walks into the training grounds, hand upon his sword hilt. He spots the familiar face of Malahir, and salutes, moving towards the man, "Good day to you, sir!"

Malahir looks to the company's staff, and nods to old man who speaks out of line, "It will be very clear to you sir, what I am about to do", he gives Mathilirion a warning glare, but doesn't pursue discipline at this late hour, being saluted to by Elidran, Malahir snaps one back himself, "Elidran, your exemplary service in my platoon is duly noted. I have no other as well disciplined as you to take command of our platoon, until my duty as acting commander of the company is fullfilled", with that he reveals his own bronz epualet, and holds them out, "Men of the silver ship company, please welcome Elidran into the rank of acting corporal of the Delta platoon, with all the rights and privelages thereupon".

The men of the Silver Ship give a half-hearted cheer for Elidran, a cheer that woule be more warm and welcomeing if the wind and cold was not cutting through their clothing and chilling them in the cool evening. Most give no complain towards the cold, though there are those who begin to mutter near the back, questioning Malahir's calling this so late and in such cold weather.

Mathirion gives a quiet nod, still questioning disaproval in his eyes, but he falls silent.

Malahir holds out his hand and seeks Elidran's, eagerly shaking it, saying in a low voice so that only him and Elidran could possibly hear "I'll be needed that corporal insignia back, but for now, you deserve them Elidran", then stepping back to address the men once more, launching directly into the next line of business, "Man-at-arms Mathirion, your life long commitement to the guard has also been noted by myself and the lieutenant", he says a bit uncomfortably, but as he looks at the old man, the corporals eyes are honest and sincere, "Indeed, we will need a chief of staff to assist me in those assigned duties. I would like for you to step forward and recieve the rank of Corporal also, and fulfill the position of my acting chief of staff".

Elidran looks intensely pleased, and flustered by this great surprise, "I...I thank you, Malahir, I consider this a great honor, and I shall do what I can to earn this trust."

Mathirion's coal black eyes light finally with an understanding, and a touch of an appriciative smile turns the corners of his mouth upward. As he stands at the front, he takes only a step forward. He gives a quiet half-bow, his movements completly smooth, his greying hair falling slightly in his eyes as he does so. "An honor, sir," is all he says, looking up at the Acting Lieutenant with something bordering on amusement touching his face.

Malahir bows respectfully to the elderly guard, handing him epualets of his own, "You know we're going to have to talk about your etiquette Math", winking jovally. He points over towardthe other staff member, "take your rightful place Mathirion and we will continue with two more quick announcements before dismissal".

The hint of a smile on Mathirion's face widens only slightly at Malahir's words and, with a snappy salute, he steps up and around the Acting Lieutenant to take his place with the other officer, facing the company.

The rest of the Silver Ship is beginning to get restless, no matter how well disciplined they may be, as the cold winds bite at them and the sun begins to set. Malahir's mention of only two more announcements does seem to lift spirits somewhat.

Elidran glances at Malahir and grins wryly,' I think we should let the men go, sir. Tis bitterly cold out here."

Malahir looks up at the twilight sky, stiffling a yawn. "I see the men has lost patience, we'll have to work on that Mathirion". He nods to Elidran, "We will convene at a later date to make the other announcements", pausing long to let the men freeze a bit longer, "You are hereby dismissed!", he snaps a salute at the men in hopes that they already have done so before they take off in all directions.

A collective breath of relief is heard from the men of the Company as a few snap salutes before hurrying up to the barracks and the rest simply hurry up to the warmth of the building without concern for protocal in this cold. After watching the men disapear so quickly, the older Guardsman Mathirion turns towards Malahir, not expressing his own discomfort in the cold, and simply watches him with his equally cold eyes.

The sound of light footsteps, too light to be the boots of the men at arms, canbe heard behind the remaining few offiers.

Elidran watches the men go and smiles, turning to Malahir, "I'm grateful sir, very grateful for this."

Malahir tightens his cloak around his neck, resnapping the silver broach. He turns to his officers, "I would like to reconvene tomorrow, at noon sharp. Math, prepare a letter to Lieutenant Vorlain, asking permission for a squad of his men to cover our posts at that time, for an hour", he turns to Elidran specifically, "You deserve it my friend. You serve the platoon as squad leader effectively. Undoubtably, you will make a fine perminant officer in due time". With that, Malahir looks to his right out of the corner of his eye. "Would you mind walking with me to your new quarters", saying to all the officers, "Thank you all, you are dismissed", he salutes meekly.

Mathirion nods sharply, pausing a second as if committing the order to memory, "Yes sir." He says this sharply, adding his salute to others, then turns and walks up towards the barracks himself.

The small footsteps continue, skirting the edges of the training grounds and practice field. They come continually, as if the youngster that must be watching has no idea that his hiding may get him into trouble.

Malahir presses toward Elidran and says in a low voice, which sounds eeriely loud what with the large grounds being deserted at nightfall, "For a second there, I thought I heard something beind those walls. I'm sure it's nothing, but perhaps it would be safer if you go behind the far end of the wall, and make your presence known. I'll cover the near end by the road. If there is someone behind there, that's where he'd run to escape".

Malahir crouches low, and tucks himself in beside the four foot stone wall. He inches to the end of the wall, and waits for Elidran to make his move. He looks down the road quickly and sees that there is nothing but the shadows of building facades from the newly lit street lamps.

Elidran moves Stealthily to Malahir's side, 'I see nothing, sir.' He murmurs, peering into the shadow

The sounds continue, growing somewhat louder as the obviously small culprit continues his travelling towards the end of the road, the exit from the training grounds, the very spot Malahir has placed himself. The footsteps suddenly stop with a loud gasp from their owner as he comes face to face with the crouching Malahir. Frozen with fear, the child stays in the shadows, large brown eyes peering out at the men.

Malahir looks back behind his shoulder, showing a surprised look on his face, "Oh it's you Elidran, stay still". Looking back from Elidran, Malahir stares into to the face of a young girl, whose obviously striken with fear. Reaching out his hands to hold her firmly, Malahir attempts to comfort her, "Little girl, you are going to be fine, do not fret, we won't hurt you", smiling slightly as he makes out the homely girls appearance in the shimmering moonlight, as the street lamps light barely makes it to the corner of the wall.

The young girl, for a lass it turns out to be who was walking around the training grounds, keeps silent, though takes a trusting step forward, then another. "Who're you, to order me about like that, Guardsman?" she begins in a lofty tone, her fear soon forgotten and changed more into curiousity, "And do not address me as 'little girl'. 'My lady' will be sufficient." The long, large words, large for one her age, tumble from her tongue with obvious akwardness... As though she has heard them, but is not sure what they mean.

Elidran covers his grin with one hand, watching the little girl in amusement.

Malahir remains crouched down low and lets the girl move on her own accord. Grinning with avid curiousity, Malahir sighs, "Aye my lady, this guardsmen was wrong to order a lady such as yourself around. My name is Malahir, and behind me is Elidran, we protect the city, that's what guardsmen are supposed to do. May I ask your name young lady?".

Arya rolls her eyes, looking at Malahir as if he is perhaps a simpleton, an idiot. "Of course you guard the city, that's what Guardsmen are for. Even a fool would know that, Malahir." her lofty tone cracks somewhat, howeverm as she adds slowly, "My name... is Lyanna. I'm a lady of the city. I live up right near the citadel, of course." She holds her proud posture, though her words are belied by the unkept look to her hair, her dirty face, and her clothing, a tattered and well used dress.

Elidran looks the girl over, and can't help an expression of sympathy. His thoughts are plain on his face.

A female voice calls out from outside the training ground, "Arya! Arya! Supper's ready!" Upon hearing that, the young girl's eyes widen, and she darts past Malahir and Elidran without another word or a look back, running up towards the woman.