Library
The famous library of Minas Tirith! Records and archives kept here stretch back all the way to the distant ages long past when the Numenoreans fled for their lives from the destruction of their island home and first built the rocky fortress they named Minas Anor. Students there are here, although not in the numbers which used to flock to this great seat of learning. They are scattered about the room at tables piled high with parchments and books of bound illuminated vellum. Occasionally one looks up to shush you (watch out for the squeaky boards) as you pass. The bookshelves rise to the very ceiling far, far above you, and ladders lie against them, propped into the corners. They don't appear all that sturdy and it's amazing more students don't fall from them. But somehow they manage and go tripping about the shelves in search of tomes as nimble as elves in the trees. One wall however, is not lined with books. A series of tapestries hang there, one after the other in succession, like a picture-book history of the Numenoreans and their descendents.
Contents:
Book of Epics(#929V)
Book of Gondor(#21758V)
Tapestries
Obvious exits:
Door

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Weather:            Stormy
Time:                Nighttime <about 10 PM >
Season:              Autumn
Date:               Sunday - September 16, 3014

Real Time:          Wed Jun 17 19:38:40 1998
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Analdin:
        Dark blue eyes, the color of the stormy sea, shine glacially cool from this clean shaven young man's face. Dark blond hair cut short, short to hanging just abover his ears in a clean wave, covers his head. His cheekbones are chisled and his features are sharp, though the lines of his mouth are those of one used to smiling - if only slightly. His hands, when they can be seen, are rough and large. His left hand, however, sports a black glove at all times. He is a man of muscle, espicially with strong arms. Though not extremely large, he rises to six feet and is of meduim build.
        He wears the black talbard of the Minas Tirith Guard, with the Tree embriodered in silver on the breast. Simple black trousers are tucked into boots, black and polished to a shine. Upon his shoulder is company insignia, a Silver Ship set against the Gates of Minas Tirith, along with Lieutenant's bars and Company Commander's. A longsword hangs from his belt, perhaps not old, but well forged and well used. No special adornment can be seen on it save the marks of much use. A shining helm with raven's wings sometimes adorns his head, though more often, when in the city, is nowhere to be seen.
        His posture is that of a trained soldier, though rather friendly for it. Even though black is the dominant color in his clothing, his light, almost Rohirric features give him no appearance of darkness. An air of purpose surrounds him like a light mist.

Nials:
        Your eyes gaze upon the form of a tall, medium built man. His body is lean, though not overly muscular as is the norm for the men of Gondor. Atop his head is a flowing mane of wavy, chesnut colored hair, which frames the man's narrow face and hangs to a point just below his shoulders. A twin pair of sea blue colored orbs gaze out from the face of this man, but upon closer inspection under them appears to be scars of somesort. His nose is centered between the blue shaded eyes, run long and narrow with a slight aquiline quaility to it. Under his nose is the pair of lips that form the words of the blue eyed man; they are small, and then with a slight smile set upon the very edges of them. His head sits atop a body that stands roughly just over six feet in height and is covered with skin that is lightly tanned. His muscles are small compared to most but his form is fit and has the look of one who has fought before.
        His clothing is made of a solid black tabard, deviod of any marking or helraldy which is belted at the waist by a broad leather belt. Under his tabard is the man's coat of studded leather armor, black in color with steel studs set into the chest and arms of the protective coat. The top of his matching black leather pants are hidden by the bottom of his tabard. These protective leggings hang down util they reach the tops of his leather riding boots. Around his shoulders hangs a thick hooded cloak, dark as midnight and free flowing in form.
        Hidden beneath his cloak hangs the young mans means of defense, his sword, Silme-Raana. Simple in nature, the plain longsword rest in a simple leather scabard which hangs from the leather belt around his waist. Along with his sword hangs a simple pouch for the storage of small and simple objects.
        His only adornment is a simple corded bracelet made of shining chestnut hair and wound with silver and azure threads. The ends are made of 2 simple silver beads etched with runes.
 

Nials comes in and is greeted with a round of "Shh...." as he enters.
Nials has arrived.

The sun slowly rises in the sky, spreading its brilliant light upon Gondor.

Analdin sits silently at a table inside the library, the whole room hushed. Two books lay on the table before him, one open, the young officer studying it intently, and the other sitting closed right next to him. Yawning quietly, the man seems almost bored with his reading and studying, the lamps flickering in their places shining an erie light on the yellowed pages of the volume he studies with apparent boredom.

The early morning sunlight pours through the window of the Library as the door quietly opens admitting a man dressed in all black, a garment very similar to those used by the guards of this city but it is missing all the heraldry and the emblazoned symbols. The man looks about as if looking for someone, then taking note that there are very few people in here at this time, Nials whispers, "Lt. Analdin," just loud enough to be heard in his immediate surroundings.

Looking up as words echoe around the large room, whispered, indecipherable, but echoing nonetheless, the young man at a table near the back of the room looks around, examining those in there for who may have spoken. His eyes seem to skim over the man at the door as he winces at the sunlight pouring through, muttering something to himself. Returning to his studying, he rubs his eyes, tired with fatigue and lack of sleep.

Analdin starts, turning his head quickly at a familiar voice near his ear, "Wha?" he begins, rubbing his eyes once more to remove the sleep from them. Finally getting a clear sight of the man beside him, his suprised face turns into a frown, as he looks the man over, taking in his appearance and clothing, "Oh. You. Is there something I can do for you... Nials? If I remember rightly."

"I see." Nials says to himself, "I was told to let you know of our arrival by Lord Boromir." His voice this time louder filling the room, "He bades you to come and have audience with him at your leisure."

Closing the volume before him, the young officer nods quietly, "I can assume the Captain-General has returned from," a touch of distain enters his voice as he says the place name, "Dol Amroth, then? Oh, and thank you for the message." The cover of his book reads "The Evolution of Sindarin," obviously the title, and the Lieutenant's interest in the piece seems tenative at best. Turning so as to see the young man more clearly, he waits, looking expectantly at the man, as if to see if he has anything else to say.

Nials frowns and the light reflecting off his sea blue eyes shows them to be stormy in nature, "I had hoped to find you in better humor today Lt." turning his back on him and walking away, Nials stops long enough to turn and say, "I guess it is just another normal day in Minas Tirith then."

Analdin slams his hand down on the table, on top of the book, standing quickly and suddenly. Ignoring the 'sh!'s around him, the commands for silence, he walks over to the other man, approaching him with something of a threatening look, "Catch me after some sleep, and see if I'm in better temper, Nials," he spits the man's name out, looking him over once more, "I find myself wondering if the uniform of the Scouts has changed since I last spoke to one." However, as the librarian walks over and touches the young officer on the shoulder, glaring at him, Analdin nods towards the door, and begins walking towards it.

Nials opens the door and heads back out onto the landing.
Nials has left.

Opening the small door, you find yourself back out on the landing between the two tiers.

Landing at the University
The central landing of the university, many of the grandiose buildings open onto this small square located between the two lower tiers of the city. A small square of green mirrors the one above, and stone benches line the border of it, providing seats for those wishing to rest between the hectic classes and lectures here. A light breeze blows through, but it is only gentle, for the buildings shelter this area from the stronger winds. Students lounge to left and right, their parchments lying about on the ground. The library rises high above this square, its imposing structure hovering over the landing like one of the giants of legend. It sits perilously on the edge of the tier, clinging tenuously to the rock face.
Contents:
Nials
Obvious exits:
 Stairs Down leads to North end of Lampwright Street.
 Stairs Up leads to End of Woodwright's Street at the University.
 Library leads to Library.

Stepping out into the early morning sunlit street, Nials walks away from the Library and the fuming Lt. but stops a short distance away and turns to look at him, "No," he all but yells, "The uniforms have not changed," his words pour forth in carefully contained anger, "just the people in them. And I can see it is the same way here." The young squires eyes lock with those of the Lt. in a glare.

Analdin steps firmly, his stride long and straight, out into the damp morning. Sun shining though it may be, the rain from the last night's storm has left the road, the ground, wet and soggy. Yet the young officer doesn't seem to notice the weather at all, just the young man before him, "So I can see, Nials," he says, straightening his own uniform, somewhat wrinkled from the Lieutenant's seated position for so many hours, but it can be seen that it was crisp when he put it on. His voice is as steady as his gait, loud enough for Nials to hear it, sharp enough to cut through the autumn weather, but soft enough that it doesn't draw a scene. "Then you left the Scouts too? Or did you just lose your way to Cair Andros, Osgiliath, wherever they were stationed? Have you no loyalty?"

"How dare you accuse me of no loyalty," he glares, his voice notibly louder than the Lt, "I was a scout, and no I did not leave them by choice," his words drop low in anger, "I was forced to leave because of an injury."

Analdin almost bursts out laughing as he approaches the former guardsman, eyes shining dangerously as the sun glints off the bright, sea blue and casts a yellowish reflection. "Then where did you go? You've used the Guard, the Scouts, what is left? The Knights of Dol Amroth?" he shakes his head, looking straight at the man who has an inch or two on him, "I doubt even you could stoop /that/ low." With that, he shakes his head, taking a step back to look the angry man full in the face, "And now you yell at me? What have I ever done to you, Nials, other than try and train you as any other of my own men, even when you weren't? You were a comrade, now you sound like an enemy."

"First you insult me then you accuse me of being insensative," Nials retorts, his anger calmed alittle. "I would think the man who leaves his little brother to wander the street of Dol Amroth alone and without money to be the ass here." Smiling to himself, Nials' eyes look at Dinny, both in anger and amusement, "For a squire cannot help a minor street rat like that when he is caught stealing from a lord."

It is Analdin's turn to flare as Nials mentions his brother, "Dric? The little one? In Dol Amroth, that den of..." trailing off into a number of curses not very polite, those no man would venture anywhere but the barracks or in times of great anger, the young officer places his hand on the hilt of his sword, "How would you know? You, who obviously come from that place. Nials, I once saw you as a young man who had spirit in him, who was ready to defend his country at all costs. Now you come back to my city, and tell me that my brother is a street rat. You sound ready to buy something from me, or buy me, with that. What do you want?" The calmness in his tone, any that was there, has disapeared. His voice only remains soft now from the deadly determination evident in it.

"I did not come here to fight with you Analdin," Nials says, "I came here to see one I used to call friend, to tell him what has been happening since he helped me to leave the city," stopping for a moment, the young lord continues, "and to give you news of your brother. I do not think of him as a street rat, I only said that out of anger." Once again Nials stops his words, looking at the Lt. trying to judge his reaction, "In fact I helped young Dric by giving him money and some information he was seeking, forgive my words, I beg thee."

Shaking his head slowly, the young officer seems to calm some, "Then go on, tell that one you called friend, speak with him, if that is what you wish to do here. I am not stopping you... You gave me the news Lord Boromir wished you to deliver, you have dont your duty." Letting out a light sigh, and wiping a vagrant strand of light hair from his face, Analdin adds a bit more quietly, "And I thank you for assisting the boy. He ran from the city after we had, ah, words, and I have not seen him since. I thank you for simple word of him." An apoligetic smile doesn't quite hit the young man's face, but comes close, leaves traces, "Your words I can forgive, if you can mine, as they were out of exhaustion. And suprise."

"Easily forgiven," Nials says quickly, smiling again, "I left here so long ago seeking out Lord Faramir, as was the deal I made with Lord Boromir, and he excepted me into the Scouts. I seemed to have stumbled into the group in the middle of some sort of influx of the Mordain Orc, the woods of Ithilien seethed with them. It was while I was on patrol one night that I was injured, I guess blinded is more the word for it," stoping in his tale to shiver in remembered pain and fear, Nials takes a breathe and continues, "I was sent to the House of Healing and relieved of duty by Lord Faramir. It was there that I met up with the Lady of Calanros, Lady Illiana for the second time. She bid me come with her to Dol Amroth and seek the advice of the Prince on my newly blinded sight." The young Lord stops long enough for his newly calmed friend to hear all his words.

Analdin nods quietly, watching the young man before him, listening closely, yet remaining respectfully silent as he tells his tale, "Blinded, Nials?" he questions, as the former guardsman finishes his story, "Dol Amroth? The Prince?" he lets out a harsh laugh at the last two, "I should have figured as much." Shaking his head, he mutters something about thinking better of someone, but doesn't mention his words aloud, "And you went with the Lady, I take it, considering you haven't been in Minas Tirith in a long while?"

Nials nods, "That I did," he answers, "And it was there that I pledge my service, however limited to the Lady. She protested at first, but Lady Illiana eventually accepted that I would not renouce my vow to serve her." Looking around at the street at the passing people, Nials continues, "Prince Imrahil found a way to heal me, one that I shall not go into due to an oath I swore to him, and mine eyes were restored to me." Turning his blue eyed gaze once more upon the Lt., Nials smiles quickly, "Only the color changed, but that matters little. I served Illiana for a time, but I risked my life to save her in a raid of the Corsair dogs of Umbar. If you must know that spirited boy still lives within me, but he has learned caution, not much though."

Analdin continues to listen to the young man's story, shaking his head slowly as he does so, almost as if in regret or disapointment, though which, he probably doesn't know. "I've a feeling, if a few minutes ago is any example, that boy will never die out. All the better, I might say." Glancing down the street, towards the gate not too far from the barracks, as though looking for someone, his eyes return to Nials, "You've had an eventful time since leaving Minas Tirith, if I may say so... must have been a rough journy for you to end up in Dol Amroth, swearing to the Prince. Otherwise..." he trails off with a light shrug.

"Try getting married." Nials says lightly, waiting for the man's reaction.

Analdin blinks hard in the sunlight, "Married!?" he questions, almost exclaims, speachless, "I am, my friend... just to a more fickle woman than any you could imagine." He chuckles silently, broad shoulders shaking, and shaking his head, "Married! Please don't tell me..."

Smiling to himself, Nials can't help but laugh with his old friend, "Then I shall not tell you I am married to Illiana, Lady of Calanros." Attempting to change the subject, Nials looks at the Library door, "If I may inquire, what brings you to the library Analdin."

Aiesha comes up the stairs.
Aiesha has arrived.

Analdin begins to cast Nials a glare at hearing his own name from the man's mouth with no rank attached to it, but stops himself short, as if remembering... "Just doing a bit of research, Nials. Tactics and all can often be found in history, or so I'm told..." he trails off, brow furrowing, "Wait. Married. To the Lady of Calanros. That doesn't make you..." trailing off once more, a habit of his, the young officer casts the former guardsman a peculiar glare.

"I am afraid it does," Nials sighes. Once again looking down the street his eyes find a familiar face amongst the crowd, one that causes him to pale slightly. "I have not thought of her ....... "he trails off muttering to himself, "And if she finds out that Tor is still ........" he trails off once again, his face going even more pale.

"It does what, Nials?" the young Lieutenant follows the other's gaze into the crowd, but no recognation shines in his face as he once again looks to the young man, "I think we may not be speaking of the same subject. What /does/ it make you, Nials?" he questions quietly, features beginning to harden once more.

Still looking at the person in crowd, Nials off-handedly states, "It makes me a lord," his words come out unimpressive as he continues to watch the person he knows, "Though only one by marriage as of now, Prince Imrahil spoke of something else but I took little note of it." Turning his gaze back to the curious Lt., Nials sighes briefly, "He made me a squire, though I begged my wife against it. I had thought I was done with combat from now on it but I was wrong." His words finish and he once again looks to the crowd of people searching for the face in the crowd.

Analdin rolls his eyes heavenward, as though praying, "Valar help me," he mumbles, shaking his head at the young lord, and raising his voice slightly, "Don't expect to find me bowing or any of that now," he adds almost gruffly, "I know only a few lords with whom I get along, pray you are one of them." A tight smile touching his face, he leans against the wall of the library, stifling a yawn as the sun touches his face. "Expecting someone?"

Turning back to Analdin, Nials laughes nervously, "I don't expect you to bow to me, I expect you to treat me as you did before I was married," Looking around again, Nials face begins to regain some of it's color, "There is someone in the crowd that I know, and if she learns certain things it will cause her much pain."

"No..." the young officer almost smiles, almost, "If I did that, Nials, you would surely kill me." That said, almost pensively, he turns to the crowd, lazily scanning it on his own as well, looking about as if to find that someone Nials is afraid of meeting.

Keeping mostly to herself, a young woman wanders despondantly through the crowd, her features gaunt and strained. A soggy cloak is dragged along behind her. She doesn't seem to be paying attention to anyone or anything, and it seems amazing that she doesn't walk straight into anyone...as of yet, anyway.

"Analdin there is something you must know," Nials starts off quickly, "I don't know if you are going to believe me or not, but Torelin is still alive." Spotting Aiesha once again, the young lord examines her mood as best he can, "Forgive my quick departure, but I must know how she is doing?" the squire says as he turns and heads for the young lady, standing in front of her allowing the young healess to walk to him.

As though the words were a blow to his stomach or a fist to his jaw, the young Lieutenant staggers and appears on the verge of falling, were his back not to the library, "Torelin?" he muses, belief of Nials's words not quite registered, "But..." trailing off as if in a stupor, he turns to follow the young lord, the confusion and suprise that rocked him a few moments ago not at all visible in his step.

With eyes unseeing, the young healess continues her despondant course, right up until she walks straight into someone, not realising they'd walked into her way on purpose. "'Scuse me," she mumbles, moving out of the person's way without even looking up to see who it was.

"Aiesha," Nials says softly, "Wait," his hand reaching for her arm to stop her. Forgetting about the confused Lt, the young Lord of Calanros focuses only on his friend and his old flame, "Aiesha it's me Nials." he repeats to her gently so as not to startle her.

Upon recognising the healess, and looking once more to Nials, a look of understanding comes over him, and he backs off a little, standing a few feet away.

Aiesha pauses when she feels someone taking her arm. "I did say excuse-" She stands completely still when she hears who it is speaking. "Nials?" She turns around, and finds that her guess had been right. She stares blankly at him for a few moments, trying to collect herself. It seems she'd had more that one shock today.

"I am sorry to meet you like this," he says, but then he looks at her recognizing the signs of shock upon her, "What is wrong?" questions the young lord softly.
 
As the meeting turns a bit on the personal side, the young officer of the Guard turns quietly, as quietly as one can in riding boots on hard pavement in a crowd, and begins to disapear in the general direction of the gate to the third tier.

"Well then," Nials states quickly, "If nothing is wrong I shall let you go about your way," letting her arm go, the young lord looks upon her with unbelieving eyes, "I am staying at the White Tree Inn, I would like to sit and talk with you over some matters if that is all right with you?"

Aiesha nods quickly, managing a quick, somewhat forced smile. "You know where to find me when you want me," she replies, still nodding. She mumbles, under her breath, "Yep, everyone knows where to find me.."

Turning from her, Nials makes his way back down the street towards the gates. His steps hurried and his mouth moving in silent words.