This log takes place in he Merchant's Guild House, Fourth Tier in Minas Tirith and was recorded on July 24th, 1997 by Elbarad.
Real time is: Thu Jul 24 17:59:30 1997
Elendor time is: Late Night (about 3 AM ) on Sterday of Winter - January 29, 3012
Kierdan enters the room, looking around cautiously with his face showing little emotion. His right hand is resting lightly on the top of his axe.
Alanda wanders in from the marketplace outside.
Alanda has arrived.
Alanda is an IC Female Human
Japhin stands near the entrance to the guild with his hand upon his hilt. Several other guards stand around him. Across the entrance from him stand several of the Silver Guard. Surprisingly, the Silver Guard is the better equipted.
Onager_Pitt is standing over in a corner speaking to several of the lesser merchents of the city. He is generally shaking hands and doing a bit of last minute campaigning.
Rhiforath sits on the floor off against one wall, looking alittle scruffier than ususal... with no male Guardian looking after him these days. He spends most of his time elsewhere now but still comes here to hang out and bother people... look for things to do and try to be cheerful. The lad watches all those who come or go carefully. Seeing Japhin, the boy perks up alittle.
Alanda walks in and looks for a seat.
Alanda sits down at Shaded Bench.
Mardil stands pluming himself and generally struting around. He does much bowing and kissing of hands with the ladies, but generally ignores the men. ... Until reaching Onager_Pitt, "Good day, Master Onager. Good day to you." A short bow follows as he walks on...
Athorun stands next to Japhin, greying eyebrows furrowed into a slight frown as the Numenorean lord speaks. He seems to take all in the room with his sea-grey stern eyes, lips pursed as he crosses his strong arms before him. "Aye, tis true: my vinyards were not productive a score years ago, and my middle-age wine is in low supply."
Alanda sits on the shaded bench, listening to talk around her.
Onager_Pitt nods graciously towards Mardil and gives the man a brief smile before resuming his conversation with a man who appears to still be undecided.
Kierdan takes up a position near the entrance, ignoring the occasional blast of cold winter air. He lefts his eyes continue drifiting almost absently around the room, taking in the details and the people around.
l Alanda
You see a young Human girl about 5'6" and about 120 lbs. She has shoulder length, dark brown hair. She also has bright hazel eyes. She has lightly tanned skin. She wears a blouse with needlepoint on it. She also wears a skirt. She has low hard boots. She wears a belt with three pouches of different sizes.
The slim lad's silvery eyes narrow beneath his long unruly hair as he pauses in his whittling of a piece of bone to watch the tall elderly Lord Athorun suspiciously.
Japhin looks to the Lord and smiles, "Yes, M'Lord, but your vines do well today and so we have good years to look forward to, yes?" As he speaks he allows his eyes to scan the crowd. Every so often, he takes a good look at his men as well.
Onager_Pitt excuses himself finally from the other man and makes his way over towards Japhin. He smiles broadly as he gets near, he says, "Ah my good Corporal Japhin, have you come to see the excitement of the election this evening?"
l Japhin
Before you stands a man in his late thirties in the livery of the guard. Though his stance is pround and erect, it is not quite as formal as many of the young privates around the city. He snaps to attention and such, but does so with a little more grace and a little less pizzaz. He is of medium build and has deep green eyes. At his side he carries both a dagger and a long sword. His armor is simple compared to many in the guard, just leather. Surprisingly, he wears no cloak, so many of the guard do. As his shoulder comes into view, a corporal's tassle can be seen hanging from it. He also wears several rings on his hand. Though they look distinctive, it is impossible to see clearly from here.
Carrying:
Leather Armor
Japhin's Longsword
Japhin's Dagger
l Athorun
Long and straight silver and black hair falls below this tall an's broad and strong shoulders, flowing down to about the base of his neck. His eyes are sea-grey and crystal clear, sharp is their gaze. The strength and fairness of his features - even at his age they are as if cut in stone and only the odd mark of age is upon his face - tell you that in this man runs noble blood, from Numenor and perhaps event eh Eldar themselves. He stands tall and proud, truly a Lord of Numenor from days long past. His presence is commanding, and he carries himself in the soft and unspoken way of a true Lord, wise and strong of will.
From this man's broad shoulders hangs a great, majestic purple cloak, billowing in the slightest breeze, fastened at his neck with a gold-outlined brooch of the bronze, six-pointed star of Girithlin upon the field of Cardolan. Beneath this cloak is a fine-spun silk tunic of dark, royal blue, emblazoned with the intracit, beautiful Swan of Dol Amroth. The tunic is cinched at the waist by a fine, black leather belt which has a sash that rises over his right shoulder. From this sash hangs on his back a monstrous blade, the elegant hilt of which peeks from above his left shoulder. On his long and strong legs are breeches of finest silk, matching his tunic in their rich blue color. Upon his feet are fine riding boots of beautiful leather.
A large crowd has gathered in the merchant's guild. Men and women, rich and poor make up the group. Much discussion and debate keeps the group lively, but as one looks around, there are several key people missing... Most notable are Chrysalis, the Head Journeyman; Cio, the Merchant Bard; and Banedon, Captain of the Silver Guard...
Athorun's stern eyes follow Japhin's for a moment before he replies, "Aye, indeed." he frowns once again, "But not so well as I had hoped, I fear. That damnable thrice-accursed snake that in cowardice had burned those farms and killed Lord Sirion... many vinyard workers were forced away from work to rebuild their homes, and I of course funded their undertakings." He looks up to the stranger, and his eyes look evenly at him as he is rudely interrupted.
Rhiforath stands up, lanky legs unfolding into stilts to raise the growing young man well up for his age. He glances around... the tempation to lighten the pockets of these plump rich folk a strong lure... he glances at Japhin in his neat Guard uniform and frowns, changing his mind.
Japhin's eyes come back down from the crowd as he hears a new voice address him. Glancing quickly to his guard with a stern look, he turns back to Onager, "A proud day for you Master Onager, a proud day indeed. How do you this day?" Japhin smiles widely, too widely.
Kierdan's face remains an unemotional mask, and he keeps on hand on the top of his axe lightly and the other hand grasping a small, round shield studded with small metal bumps.
It seems that without one of those key people this group is at a loss, for though almost 30 minutes have passed since the meeting was to have begun, the group still rumbles about without purpose.
Onager_Pitt flashes a smile at Lord Athorun, his white teeth showing in the lamp light. He offers a small bow saying, "My deepest apologies m'lord Athorun, I had not noticed you were speaking with the Corporal here. I do so hope I am not interruptign anything? I had meerly hoped to have a few friendly words with my friend here before the festivities begin." When Japhin has responded to him he turns the smile towards him, "Oh... I believe it will be a good day. But one never knows how things will turn out. " With a broad wink to show he is jesting he says, "Some of these thrice damned greedy merchants just won't stay bought!"
Mardil stands towards the stage, stretching his neck and looking around the crowd. He taps his hands together impatiently. It seems he is quite perturbed...
The so far ignored young man slips over towards the Corporal and his guests, careful not to bump into anyone as he eases over. When Rhiforath gets into a position where he can see and over hear fairly well... if not exactly close, the studies the tall Lord Athorun.
Athorun's thin lips curve into a tight smile as he nods politely to Onager, but his impatience with the man shows as he ignores him and instead addresses Japhin, "Well friend, I shall remain and watch the ongoings; this is my first time to one, and I had promised you those years back that I should be present one time." With that, he turns from the two, and gives a small, polite smile to Rhiforath as he walks among the crowd which disperses as he does so, allowing him to walk freely.
Rhiforath frowns at the tall Lord at being noticed.
Japhin's smile tightens, "Buy?" Chuckles, "Of course... You didn't actually try to buy dear Lord Athorun here though, did you?" Japhin nods to Athorun as he walks off, "hmm.. I believe you made a mistake there. You offended both a Lord and a person with a vote.
Japhin says, "you did know he has a vote, did you not?"
Alanda stands up from Shaded Bench.
Mardil starts to head up onto the stage, but then descends again, again he heads up onto the stage and then.... after several iterations, he finally makes it to the top of the podium and stands there facing the crowd. Fighting to not look nervous... he stands, saying nothing, but smiling a lot.
Onager_Pitt's eyes follow the back of the tall lord, returning to look at Japhin he says, "Of course I made no such attempt, I am as honest as the next man. It was meerly a jest as I am sure you well know. And yes....I knew that he had a vote although to be honest I had not expected his precense."
Rhiforath licks his lips and watches Athorun walk away... the lad hesitates between staying to listen to these man talking and follwing the Southern Lord.
Alanda walks to stand near the stage.
Alanda smiles as she walks by people.
Rhiforath decides himself and turns to follow the tall elderly man through the gathering crowd and across the room... his steps long. Oddly enough, he strongly resembles the noble man he stalks.
Onager_Pitt takes a moment to catch Alanda's eye and to return her smile.
Japhin nods to Onager, "Of course..," Japhin steals a glance at Kierdan and grimaces. Turning back to Onager he says, "Excuse me, I must attend to my men." Standing in front of Kierdan he grimaces and starts to whisper quietly, "Look like you're being reprimanded."
Kierdan's eyes flicker to Japhin quickly, then after a short moment he nods submissively, his face looking slightly abashed at the terrible deed he has done.
Athorun smoothly walks through the crowd, and finally finds a place where he can stand and watch the goings on, and turns to notice Rhiforath following him. His grey eyes actually twinkle a little bit - uncharacteristic the stern man - and he motions for him to come over.
Mardil coughs and smiles. He waves his hand a little bit. Cough... "Uhh.. hello." Unfortunately only those near the front can hear him for he speaks so quietly.
Onager_Pitt pauses just a moment to watch as Japhin speaks to one of his men, then, his hands rubbing nervously together, as if he were washing them he turns and makes his way nearer to the front of the crowd, still pauseing to say a word or shake a hand as he does.
Tazrinnor wanders in from the marketplace outside.
Tazrinnor has arrived.
Tazrinnor is an IC Male Human
l Tazinnor
You see before you a man who you know is young, for his cheeks show no sign of a beard, and he moves with that mixture of grace and awkward hesitation that denotes someone who is skilled in combat and trained in the art of moving silently, but has not yet found his place in life. His eyes, as grey and mysterious as morning mist, scan his surroundings ceaselessly. Red-gold hair, the color of a candle flame, falls in disarray to just above his shoulders. It looks as if it had been hastily cut with an instrument not meant for precision; each lock falls to a length not matched by any other.
He is wearing a brown tunic and leggings of the same color, made of supple hides. His right arm is in a sling, and his tunic has a carefully mended slit at the right shoulder, and there is a bulge right under it, as if the tunic is concealing a thick bandage. Thrown over his shoulders is a deep green cloak made of a thick, but rather poorly woven cloth. A closer look reveals that the sewing on the cloak was rather hastily done.
Alanda says, "Please talk alittle louder Mardil, so people can hear in the back." she smiles.
Rhiforath stops dead as the older man stops and turns, picking him out in the gathering as if he were painted a bright red in a field of green. The lad continues to frown and brushes at the too long hair that falls into his pale eyes. He bites his lip and raises his chin, making himself approach the man. He doesn't bow but stands before the tall Lord and eyes him, "You were at the trial. I want'd to ask ya a question."
Japhin looks Kierdan in the eye and smiles, "... ... ... ... ... another favor? ... ... ... ... ... handled ... ... ... to ... ... ... of the ... ... ... ... ... ... ..." Japhin winks.
Kierdan lets his face return to its normal flat look as he nods to Japhin, and heads towards the stage trying to look unobtrusive.
Mardil coughs again and looks to Onager with a shrug and a big question mark above his head.
The boy, Rhiforath... nearly a man, has a hostile stiffness about him and a sullen air as he looks on the Lordly man he boldy confronts.
One of the men that Onager speaks to waits a moment after Onager has passed before he says very loudly, "Attention please! I believe Mardil would like to get started now."
Athorun's grey eyes lose their twinkle as the young lad comes closer, and his voice lowers as he speaks, "Are you the one that spoke out of order that our Steward's son got angry with?" he asks quietly in a low and confidential-sounding voice, truly a man that could be trusted with the lad's deepest secrets he seems, wise and benevolent.
Tazrinnor enters the room hesitantly, looking around curiously.
Mardil looks embarassed for a moment. One would almost think he'd been seriously reprimanded. After adjusting his collar and coughing again, he says, "Yes... Yes indeed. We're ready to get started now, I think! Everyone! Please!" Mardil smiles broadly.
Kierdan slowly comes to a stop near where Japhin indicated at the right side of the stage, quickly scanning the people around him and cocking his head to listen.
Rhiforath glances up at the staged with an oh so obviously annoyed look as if that Mardil man purposely wishes to interupt the lad. He frowns more and looks back up at Athorun, his own voice dropping out of reaction to the Lord's, "Eh, ya." One hand slips up to skim unruly hair from his eyes, "I eh, am a scribe and I wanted ta know how you know for certain if'n a person wrote someth'n or it was faked."
The general crowd quiets as Onager and Mardil speak up. Hushed whispers continue though as the non-standard fromat of this meeting takes some at a loss.
Japhin stiffens as he hears the words of the man on stage, and he glances around as if looking for something. Not finding it, he shrug and leans back against the wall... to watch the show.
Onager_Pitt stands amoungst some of the newer and some shadier merchents of Minas Tirith. Many of which are known for offering high quality goods at exceptionally low prices. He looks at ease as he waits for the crowd to quiet down.
Mardil claps his hands in front of him, "I do hope you all will forgive this departure from tradition, but it seems our head journeyman has ... fallen ill... or" He raises his hands palms up and shrugs, "Or something..."
Someone laughs out loud in the back and calls out, "Or has had too much to drink!"
Athorun looks somewhat dubiously down to the lad but motions for him to pay attention to the goings-on as he whispers, "I will talk to you after the ... thing." He puts up his hand, palm out, subtly to quiet the lad's future questions, and turns his sea-grey eyes to the goings on, and crosses his arms before him, his noble - almost regal air apparent as he watches the ongoings with noted interest and blatant disregard for the hecklers.
Several people in the crowd shift and mutter, a whipser of noise rising up for a moment with comments and muffled laughter.
Kierdan's eyes turn towards the direction of the shout, frowning in disapproval.
Rhiforath opens his mouth to object to the older man's refusal to speak to him now on what troubles him... so instead, he folds his arms and stands in a mimik of the tall Lord's stance in a comically close pose of the older man. He firms his lip and turns his head to watch the stage, scowling.
A man dressed in rather threadbare clothing calls out, "Let's get this over with! Who cares why Chrysalis isn't here! She's just mad because the Corporal here's not her boss anymore." A few of his friends laughingly glance over towards Japhin, one even makes a crude, suggestive gesture which causes the men to laugh even harder.
Mardil chuckles and smiles, "Ummm... yes, well.. It seems to me that the nature of this event requires that we take care of the business before us with as little delay as possible..." Mardil seems to be coming inot his own now.
Japhin's face tightens, but he says not a word.
Onager_Pitt glances over towards the loud men with an icy stare, one notices and elbows his friend, the laughing dies suddenly.
Someone else in the back... the same voice as before laughs, "Oh, I thought he meant some man... it's a woman?!"
Kierdan's hand tightens on his axe and he takes a step towards the direction of the voice, frowning deeply.
Rhiforath rolls his eyes at the man-in-the-back's idiocy.
Athorun holds up his index finger to the lad, in the 'in a minute' sign, and disappears into the crowd as best a man of his stature and clothing might - which is not very well at all - and he begins to make his way back to the hecklers, hand on the long blade at his side as he does so.
Mardil speeds up his speach and begins walking the stage a bit, gesticulating as he goes, "Indeed, it is the duty of this group today to bestow the Master Mechantship upon one Onager_Pitt lest the guilds fall apart!..."
The tall lad watches the Lord Athorun couriously, his earlier dislike of the man hard to hold. He stands on his tip toes to try and see, ignoring the stage and it's studges.
Onager_Pitt raises his hand and calls out to Mardil, "Good man Mardil! May I have a word before you continue?"
A faint, but definite ripple of murmurs run through the crowd, "Onager as Master Merchant?"
Mardil waves to the crowd and beckons Onager to come forward, "Why certainly my good merchant step forward." Mardil walks to the front of the stage and leans forward. It is apparent however that his smile becomes harder to hold as Onager approaches.
Sudden silence reighns in the far back corner of the room as the Lord Athorun is seen heading back in that direction. The older citizen who had been heckling loudly before tries to blend in and go unnoticed.
Athorun's eagle-sharp grey eyes never leave the old heckler for a minute as the space anywehre within a yard of him is completely devoid of watchers as they step to the side to let him pass. He very quickly approaches the heckler, and hisses lowly, "Take this and get out of here, old rat." he flips a gold florin at him, grey eyes narrow slits as he waits for the man to depart.
The general feel of the crowd quietens as Onager approaches the podium with the obvious exception of a few hecklers scattered here and there throughout.
Onager_Pitt makes his way through the crowd till he reaches the stage. Stepping gracefully onto it he smiles at Mardil before addressing the crowd, "I only wish to say this.....while I am honored to have been nominated and would willingly accept such a task if you so decide. In no way would I wish this to be done in anyway that might seem unfair. I have not yet heard of any other nominations but would like to suggest that some be made before the vote is taken. " That said he nods once again to Mardil before hopping down off the stage before anyone can say anything to him to forse him to pause.
The citizen's eyes, whom the Noble Lord Athorun speaks to in a low voice, grow wide at the sight of the gold coin but the man refuses to take it, speaking low in return, "I am sorry, M'Lord. Please keep your coin and I shall keep my mouth shut. I mean no harm." The man looks apologetic.
Mardil stands slowly after Onager addresses the crown and quickly tries to recover from his embarassment at misunderstanding the man, "umm.. yes.. Other nominations..." Waving his hand through the air he says, "Does anyone consider any other man present worthy of competeing against Master Onager?!?"
Rhiforath calls out, "Everyone here is worthy to beat... er, compete against him, but -will- they?" He smiles, even though he gets some ill looks at his own heckling.
Japhin looks through the crowd. Though obviously affected by some of the heckles, for the most part his general look is one of boredom.
Athorun looks the man in the eye for as long as the other can bear it, and then hisses once again, "Make it so, sirrah." He nods in the direction of a guard, who nods in recognition, "Or the guards will remove you." He glances around to the others around the loud old man, wordlessly including them in his admonition, and he turns his back, leaving the coin on the floor, and walks back to Rhiforath.
A quiet wave of chuckles waft through the crown, but even these are quickly silenced with a series of ugh's and oof's.
A man off in a corner calls out loudly, "I nominate Ravenwyr of the Guard!" Amidst a chourus of laughter the man ducks down to avoid being recognized.
The admonished man does not touch the coin but another scoops it up and slips it into the collection box by the door for donations. The heckler nods and turns back to listen, keeping his mouth shut as promised.
Japhin quickly stands up straight from his perch against the wall and stretches his neck to see the man who speaks the name of Raven. Snapping his finger he points to two guards and in the direction of the call. As the men head off, a scowl sets upon his face.
Rhiforath scowls suddenly at the mock nomination of his late Guardian, and grows angry shouting, "YOU LEAVE HIM OUT OF IT!"
Kierdan shakes his head, grumbling to himself about hecklers and long meetings.
Athorun's eyes are averted as the *other* heckler speaks, and does not attempt to try and find him. "Guards!" he calls loudly, and then more softly, in his low and gravelly voice, "Remove him." He is quickly back next to the lad.
Mardil stretches out his hands in front of him palm down, trying to quiet the crowd. His own laughter makes the attempt rather ludicrous however, especialy as he tries to speak through it, "Now, now, come. (laugh) they (chuckle) be here today to be ... to be eligible. Let's," He waves his hand and smiles mischeviusoly, "pick an eligible candidate."
As the two guardsmen approach the corner the men there move about confusingly, making it hard to be sure just who the heckler was.
Alanda says, "Onager_Pitt why did you choose to run for Guild Master?"
Rhiforath stands fuming quietly, his wrath radiating from his sullen posture. He avoids Lord Athorun's gaze as that man returns to stand near him. The young man eyes after the man who had called out before, trying to mark him to memory for future referance.
Rhiforath +whispers to Athorun, "... ... ... spoke ... I'll ... ... ... ..."
Mardil looks with surprise for the woman who would speak such words. Even after he idnetifies the origin it takes him a moment to believe it. Such words from the quiet lady standing in the corner.
Onager_Pitt raised his hand to quiet the crowd, it works somewhat, enough anyway to answer, "My main reason m'lady Alanda is simply that so many of the merchants of our fine city approached me and asked me to take the job after our ex Guild Master left his post suddenly. Were it not for the fact that he left our Guild in such sorry straights I would not take on this heavy burden for myself. But as it is I see it as a duty that I must bear."
Rhiforath stops his whisper suddenly, conscience of who he is speaking too and looks annoyed with himself. He clamps his lips shut and glares at the men on the stage.
Alanda says, "I wonder why no body else will run aginst you."
A man near the back, not hearing Alanda's question shouts, "I nominate Rhifaroth, the scribe, for the position of Master Merchant!" Laughing and general shoving starts around the back as the man and his friends start rolling around at this one.
Rhiforath looks shocked, "Sorry straights?!" Again the boy looks angrily back into the crowd, determined to pin that heckler down so he can find the man later.
Japhin gives a wince and a thin smile at the harsh words of Onager. He glances at his men and winks, pointing with an incredulous, but humored look.
Onager_Pitt smiles, his even white teeth showing plainly, "But my dear Alanda, I have tried to get someone else to run. Perhaps if you have someone you would like to nominate you should do so. I myself would nominate Chyrsalis had she cared enough about the Guild to even come this evening."
Kierdan shakes his head again, half angry and half frustrated, his eyes looking at the crowd sharply, watching for obnoxious hecklers.
Alanda says, "I would like to see Chyrsalis also be nomnated."
Athorun looks down to the lad with a stern but understanding gaze. He shrugs his shoulders subtly, and regains his noble composure, and then takes a step forward. "Then if you would nominate her, why do you not?" he asks with slightly narrowed grey eyes. "Very well, I have a vote: I nominate the lady Chrysalis."
Mardil pipes up at Alanda's nomination of Chrys, "As I've pointed out before, only those present can be nominated and as the Journeyman has failed to show this day," Mardil shrugs and shakes his head.
Onager_Pitt shrugs in a showy way, "Very well then, I shall second the nomination as well."
Alanda says, "We do not know the reason she could not come. She may had a good reason."
Rhiforath looks confused a moment at the change of pace... to nominate his co-worker the Journywoman. Rhi blinks and nods, "Yeah, she'd do a good job too." He glares at Onager Pitt, "She don't put up wit' no foolishness."
Onager_Pitt gives Mardil an impatient look and under the pretense of rubbing his short beard motions his hand to hurry things up.
Mardil smiles weakly, "Oh, I am sorry, but she is not eligible.-WAIT!" Cupping his hand to his ear, he says, "Ah, yes. I heard another nomination! Rhiforath is of sufficient age to be eligible and has been nominated properly. Rhifaroth, do you accept?"
Rhiforath's pale silvery eyes go wide in his young face under all that damned hair. He opens his mouth, "I am?!" The lad looks stunned, "But I don't know nutt'n about running a Guild..." He looks at his previous employer, Japhin, imploringly.
On of the men in that same corner crys out, "Aye! Let the lad run for the office. All here know his talents well!" There is a slight snicker but none gainsay the call.
As Japhin has been following the flow, he turns to watch Rhifaroth's reaction. Seeing, his gaze focused on him, Japhin smiles and nods.
Mardil says, "Well, Rhifaroth! your answer is required." Mardil smiles and spreads his hands out before him, leaning forward slightly, his head cocked. "Rhifaroth?"
Athorun purses his lips as he looks down to the lad, "Lad... do what is best." he says simply, and nods encouragingly to him.
Suddenly the boy looks less the young man and more the child. He tenses at the focus of all those around him, not liking the attention, "But I'm only fifteen." As the lad skims the room looking around him he finally looks upon Onagar and frowns, lifting his chin, "But anyone ought to do better than that.... I can try." Anger and youth make Rhi stand straighter, "Sure, I'll run against him!" Silvery eyes glare at the man who he thinks had something to do with Japhin's ousting.
Alanda says, "Lets get the vote over with now."
Tazrinnor scans the crowd, his eyes interested and his face unsmiling. His face shows a mixture of amusement and acknowledgment of irony as Rhiforath accepts the nomination.
Japhin smiles and shakes his head, "May the Valar help us."
Onager_Pitt turns to look at the young man, a wry smile on his lips. He nods towards the youth in a mocking show of respect.
Athorun raises his brow as he looks down out of the corner of his eye to the lad, but doesn't say anything. His eyes dart over to Onager, and suspicion grows in the old Lord's grey eyes as he now eyes the man with harsh, cold scrutiny.
Rhiforath climbs up onto the stage, eyeing Onagar Pitt hostilly and making no attempt to be cival to the other man... his height for his age lending him the illusion of size and strength with his mind made up. The young man looks very odd standing next to the sleek merchant in his rags of clothes.
Mardil winks at Onager and smiles, raising his hands, "The election it is then." Once again he begins walking up and down the stage and gesticulating, "I would offer now another break from tradition here in the name of time.. if I may? I would suggest... that rather than some _silly_secret_ ballot, we go ahead and just do these by show of hands..." Mardil turns to the crowd and smiles, "Yes? Yes!"
>From the entryway a murmur swells forward and suddenly dim sillouettes come into play. One, two, then more until finally twelve knights in full retinue stride forward with fell swords at their side. Bearing the livery of the Ship and Swan, there is no doubt who they represent. Indeed, for behind them, with long cape fluttering marches the grey eyed Prince of Dol Amroth. Carefully surveying the scene he follows his retainers as they part the crowd for him.
Imrahil has arrived.
Imrahil is an IC Male Human
Numerous crys of "Aye!" and "Let's just get this over with!" come from through out the crowd.
Japhin shakes his head and puts his forhead in his hand, turning to his men he points his thumb towards the stage and whispers, "Get a load of this guy.."
Rhiforath looks across the bustling room as the floor opens up for the Prince. The lad stands on the stage next to the merchant Onagar Pitt, watching. His youthful posture is stiff and challenging.
Alanda bows her head, then she smiles.
Japhin slaps one of his men on the knee and comes to attention as the Prince enters.
Onager_Pitt's attention is taken by the entrance of the retinue of the Prince. He carefully and without the slightest hint of his normal sneering smile bows respectfully to the Prince.
Athorun turns and snaps to immediate attention as Imrahil arrives, and bows before him, "Hail, Highness." he says, words that seem to slice through the air like a sharp sword, cutting still most of the noise.
Kierdan comes to attention as Imrahil enters, even though he is far away from the door, at the right side of the stage.
Imrahil places his hand on his hips and surveys the scene, "So at the last we have come to witness what may with due ceremony hold great implications for our land." He pauses hearing the fair voice of Athorun he bows with formal politeness but a strange almost glitter like quality to his eyes, "Hail Lord Girithlin, I see you have come to this suare as well? Come by my side and together we may witness what these merchants may offer for the good of the kingdom that was and will be again."
Whispers move through the crowd like a wave, one is even loud enough to be heard by all although it's speaker is impossible to identify, "What is he doing here? He's not got a vote too does he?"
Mardil seems startled for a moment at the entrance of this unexpected guest. After grimacing, he pats around himself for a moment and says loudly, "Uhhh.. yes! As I was saying. A show of hands and a simple count is just as accurate and a whole lot faster."
Mardil says, "And simpler than a secret ballot. So, I guess we'll get started.. here... in just a moment..."
Athorun nods reverently, "I shall, Highness." He motions for the lad to accompany him should he so desire. "As Prince you also have a say in the next Master or Mistress of the Guilds, and may nominate any merchant for vote. Your vote, as mine, as these here, is only single however."
Imrahil nods, "It is my hope that we may have a man who is not so clinging to the purse, but rather sets forth a just price and fair quality for the common stock."
Mardil seems to recover from his loss again, "As I was saying! I guess we'll vote now, so if no one has any problem with a show of hands, let's see them for Onager!" Mardil specifically avoids meeting the gaze of Imrahil or any of his knights as he speaks.
Rhiforath looks hesitantly after Lord Athorun... uncertain if he should remain on the stage where he can see clearly or follow the tall Lord as beconned. The young man studies the Prince, still not bowing and alittle scruffier than most about the Guild room. He slips off of the stage and eases over, casting a glance after Japhin before looking up at the Fair Imrahil and speaking up, "You judged at the Trial. I remember you."
Alanda Raises her hand for Onager_Pitt, if she has a vote.
Athorun shakes his head as Rhiforath considers stepping down, and motions for him to stay where he is. However, when Rhiforath challenges Imrahil, his eyes widen at first in surprise, and then narrow warningly, and subtly motions with his hands that the lad should wait.
Imrahil looks upon the boy and says, "Ho child. Aye indeed, and I remember your cherubine face in the midst of sorrow. Indeed it is a greivous thing, but alas, my judgement is as it is and that cannot change under sun or moon lest some new contrivance comes to the light." Imrahil now places a hand on the boy and looks kindly at him, "Duty is to all even to the very least of men. I fear bitterness whelms in your heart and little may I do to succour your grief save with gentle words. Do not forget, but yet honor he who you have known - for valour, honor and love - and not for what was brought forth."
Edrin has arrived.
Many men who wear some of the poorer clothing in the group raise their hands as well, some try to raise both their hands even although they are sure to be noticed. Several other merchants looking somewhat sheepishly raise theirs as well. Onager himself looks around at those who have not yet raised their hands. As he catches an eye here and there a few more hands are raised. Finally he too puts his hand in the air.
l Edrin
Before you stands a small man in his late 20's. He stands at about 5'8" and is very slight of build. His face is rather nondescript, unless he wishes it to be otherwise. His hair is raven black and he is always clean shaven and very well groomed. His eyes are artic blue and stare out at you with intelligence and ruthlessness. His features are hard and appear as if chisled from stone and are very cold even when he smiles. When he smiles you can see a hint of the predator that this man is, revealed. Although his build is very slight, weighing no more than 150 pounds, he moves with the grace of a cat. In his movements you can see evidence of a very skilled swordsman, and one who is adroit at activites such as climbing and acrobatics.
He wears clothing that at first glance appears to be of below average quality, but on closer inspection they are well cut and were perhaps made by one of the finest tailors in Minas Tirith. He wears a shilken shirt of dark blue that is tucked into loose fitting black pants that provide easy of movement. On his feet he wears very supple black leather boots, that make little or no noise when he moves. Around his shoulders is a finely tailored black cloak that is devoid of design. There is no outward evidence that this man wears any type of weapon, but appearances can be decieving.
Rhiforath looks uncertain as he watches Athorun's cues... confused and really having no idea who Imrahil is. He looks at the Prince and listens. He does not flinch at the man's touch but watches him warily, "They nominated me for the running of Guild Master." Seeing the hands going up, the boy turns from Imrahil and walks back to the stage, ignoring the man as he climbs back up and glares at those voting for Onagar.
Mardil drops his mouth open slightly, but he quickly shuts it and begins counting. the number of people with raised hands is almost overwhelming. Shaking his head in exasperation he says, "Edrin, Alnis, come give me a hand."
Rhiforath raises his voice, "Sure see alot of hands... shame so many of ya are so pleased to see the good Master Japhin shoved out."
One or two of the heads of older merchant families raise their hands in favor of Onager, ignoreing the looks of their friends. These are mainly men who have been known to be in financial trouble as of late.
Japhin looks at the boy with a small smile. a tear rolls down his face, but he quickly wipes it away. As the boy looks back in his general direction, he puts a sternlook on hs face and aims it at Rhiforath.
Alanda says, "Tell me Japhin, were you shoved out?"
Japhin looks in the direction of the voice who asked him a question. Finding Alanda and catching her eyes, he winks and shakes his head, but no word passes from his lips.
Onager_Pitt keeping his hand raised quickly counts up the number of votes in his head. Soon he spares a glance towards Japhin. Just for a moment he allows a glimmer of his true feelings of triumph to show through his normal facade.
Kierdan keeps his hand steady on his axe and remains where he stands, near the stage and watching the crowd for any disruption of any kind.
Edrin steps up beside Onager, his employer, and begins counting the raised hands. He grins evilly as the numbers start to tally the way he expected.
Rhiforath frowns, putting his hands on his slim hips and scowls at all these supposedly-no-better-than-him elders and snorts with contempt almost comical in his age but for his bitterness, "I see Ravenwyr was wrong about you people. You aren't inherantly good, honest folk. Wonder he bothered. You been bought. All of ya." The youth hops off the stage, making to leave and fuming in anger.
As Onager_Pitt spares a glance for Japhin, Japhin pulls out his dagger and sets it to spinning on his palm, tip up. Looking at Onager, he smiles.
Alanda says, "I was not bought."
Mardil says, "Alright there, Edrin, what have you got? I got 54." He says those words loud so that all can hear and smiles broadly. It seems this is his lucky day.
Rhiforath moves threw the crowd towards the door. He doesn't look at the Lordly men, Athorun or Imrahil but moves on without a word, deathly humiliated and not wishing to linger for the results of the vote.
Onager_Pitt chuckles at the show Japhin makes with the dagger before returning his attention once more to Mardil and the count.
Edrin glances at Mardil and grins, "Aye, I got 54 as well, it seems we have a winner."
Edrin notices Japhins dagger and his icy blue eyes gaze at the soon to be ex-merchant with open hostility and contempt.
Mardil smiles and nods, Yes, well... I guess we really ought to at least give Rhifaroth a count, yes?"
Mardil smiles, "Let's see a show of hands for Rhifaroth, the new Master Merchant." Those last words he lets draw out 'til they are sharp points.
Onager_Pitt turns to Mardil, "That's a good number of votes Mardil but let's make it official. Call for the votes in favor of the lad."
Alanda claps her hands and smiles at Onager_Pitt.
Rhiforath leaves the building, his young tears unnoticed.
Rhiforath leaves the Merchants' Hall for the main street.
Rhiforath has left.
Japhin accepts the gazes from Onager and Edrin with a chuckle. Returning his dagger to its sheath, he turns to his men and points his thumb towards the stage again. Upon returning his gaze, to the group, his face seems quietly pleased with the proceedings and he allows himself to lean back against the wall again.
Onager_Pitt takes a moment to smile to his supporters. A few of the more influential recieve a personal nod. He includes Alanda as well since she runs the nearby Minstril's Lady.
Very few hands among the masses go up for Rhifaroth. It seems that many of those who did not vote for Onager also refuse to vote for a boy.
As the few hands are raised some of the more raucious of Onager's supporters begin to cheer. One group in a corner begin to call out, "Speech! Speech!"
Mardil makes a semblance of counting for a few moments and says, "Well.. it's somewhere around ... oh... say.. ten!" He laughs, "We have a new guildmaster! Onager_Pitt!"
With the final count in the cheers grow even louder, although some of those who voted for Onager are begining to look almost embarrassed for having done it.
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