Glormir rides up with a group of ten men surrounding, 5 on horse, and 5 on foot. Taking up a position at head foot of the dock he smiles as he watches the sailors work their chores. Certainly, as a man of Pelargir he ahs worked some of these chores in the past and knows their joys and pains. As he takes a closer look at the ships, he creases his brow, for they seem damaged in some way. Shaking it off, he awaits the Captains' pleasure as his men take position around him, open fronted to the dock, "Ahoy, Captains. I await thy time and thy pleasure. May it please you to come to me when you may!"

Alannon looks briefly irritated at the man talking to him, then lets it pass as he goes back to docking his ship. "You there, Lad, take a turn on that rope, lest yee see the waters to soon." As the rest of his experienced crew finishes up, he walks over towards the port of the ship, and looks down at the docks. "Aye, sir, tis good tobe 'ome."

Sailors swing merrily as monkeys on the rigging lines and spars of both ships. Aboard Gondor's glory, they dance to the orders of the first mate as he berates and curses them into their duties. A hint of pride can be seen to glint in his weathered eyes as 'his boys' perform their duties tirelessly and flawlessly.

Men and women of the city are gathering around the docks, drawn not only by the arrival of the two ships, which while not rare is noteworthy but also by the presence of the lord and his escort. A sight not normally seen so close to the workmanlike docks.

The bow of the Glory slices slowly through the harbour waters as she slows to a crawl, men scurrying like ants across her decks, desperate in the final moments of bringing the great lady of the sea to rest.

Glormir gets down from his horse at the approach of the two Captain's. After listening to their words, he waves his hand a touch and his men back further away, "I am sorry to hear that your tidings are grave, my Captains. My men are trustworthy if you would speak here, or, if you would we may go further and give you comfort." He creases his brow and seems to debate going on for a moment before continuing, "Are your tidings truly so grave? And if so, may I not have hint of the troubles which I wait to hear of?"

One member of the crowd, a faceless female voice calls out sneeringly, "Have no fear captain! A few mugs of ale and some soft kisses and your men will tell all. The news will be throughout the city by tomorrow morn. Why not spare us the trouble and just say it now?"

Guldir calls back, "Aye and the pox you call your love will have spread anon as well, you strumpet! Go and take your mercury!"

Alannon looks back at his men, a look of cold death enters his eyes. "The first one of you that talks lads, well, would be better if you were with *HIM*." He looks at the Lady and laughs, not wasting his breath. He whispers to Glormir, "Lord, what number of ships do thee see, and what is a lucky number? There be a hint of it."

The men surrounding Lord Glormir show the utmost respect and attention. Seldom are men of the Watch of Pelargir known for such virtues as respecting the Lords and so it must be thought that either Glormir is harsh, or well-liked, indeed.

Not out off by the remark a chorus of cat calls and whistles come from the crowd, a different female voice replys, 'That's never stopped a sailor from visiting us before! And besides, she simply speaks the truth whether you like it or not."

Serin looks on somberly, his very soul seeming opressed at speaking. But at length, being of resolute mind, he begins to painfully utter the words that touch him so deeply; and his voice comes as though what he was saying carved a hold in his heart: "She is lost." Serin, coughs and wheezes out another phrase; "The offering ship of our noble prince is- gone."

Glormir's body goes tense for a moment and then completely loose. Eyes are open only by default, arms hang limp, shoulders slouch. For a moment he seems to be taken completely by shock and by naught else...

Guldir laughs and cries "Hold me back, lads. I've been at sea so long, she starts to look good!" A general laugh runs through the crew of the two ships at the rejoinder of the first mate. "You save that first kiss for me, Gweniir, or I'll toss your gift into the sea."

Serin stands crestfallen, his eyes straying in emnity toward the shocking insolence of the crowd; and murmuring softly he says: "There was a storm, my lord. There was-, there was nothing we could do to save her."

Before another spirited remark can fly the edges of the crowd catches what Serin has said. A murmer of confusion arises from the people, crys of "Lost? The ship is lost? How did this happen? '

Alannon looks harshly at Serin and whispers in a foul temper, "Shut yer mouth, galley fool." In a loud voice, "I think it better if I had a drink first, My'Lord. May we go elsewhere?"

Glormir shakes himself, not at the words of Serin, but at the calls of the rabbles. The first look on his face as he raises his head is one of disgust and he turns it back to the throngs behind him for their benefit, slowly though his face returns to hold the bearing that a Lord should hold. Looking back at Alannon he nods, "Aye. Let us go to Minas Sirion and you may present me the story in full there. In private, I fear I may not let it be, for the crowds have heard, and I shall at least have truth and not rumors wander the city if a tale must wander at all. Turning to the crowd he shouts, "Hear me, men and women of Pelargir. This very bell, the court of Pelargir shall be held open for public audience. Let all attend who would hear a tale." Returning his gaze to the men in front of him, "Shall we?"

Several more woman's voices begin crying out now, 'My lad Stenon was aboard that ship! What news have you of him?" Another, a man's voice shouts, "Were there no survivors? My nephew was a sailor there." Within moments the crowd is growning ugly. Finally a new voice crys out, "If the storm was so bad how did you live? Did you leave your fellows to drown in the cruel sea while you fled for your lives?"

Alannon glares at the crowd, a rage coming into his eyes such that those rabble narest him take a step back. He looks directly at the man as he shouts, "Speak again like that, and I shall have your life. Mine own son, Menion, was on that very boat, and there was naught that could be done to save them." He turns back to the lord, "Aye, let us hasten, before I become rash."

A chorus of discontent erupts from the crew aboard the Glory. Above the commotion, the voice of Gulnir came be heard, bringing calm back to the men. He leaps to fo'castle and address the crew. "Hold yeselves, lads. Dids't ye think that scurvy lubbers like that dog would know the code of the sea? He'll be courteous enough when he's taking yer gold, never fear." He addresses the crowd. "Never yet was sailor made who would not give hisself for a shipmate. We found hard and long, and they went to Ulmo's Sunken Isle as men of courage and men of the sea. You that know them know that they would choose not other course, and let any man of you who wavers from my words, step forth to press his claim against my blade!" Culnir spits and eyes the crowd darkly

The soldiers at Glormir's back turn to face the crowd as the shouts and jeering increase, keeping them back from their Lord and the Captains. As the shouts increase in vlume and vehemency, they find themselves in low level, pushing fights. The men on horse, using their horse bodies and their spears to keep the masses back, while the men on fott have their sowrds drawn and use their backs against the crowd.

Glormir nods and turns to his men , "We would move. Clear this rabble from our path and make towards the keep." As the men begin to try to clear a way to the keep, however, a way open's up before them without any effort. It seems the people are as anxious as anyone else to hear the tale and would not stop such by blocking a road.

Glormir walks along silently, glaring at the crowds now and anon, but naught else, avoiding eye contact with the captains. For his men, a simple wave of his hands seems sufficient to handle their orders.

Alannon walks behind Glromir and his guards, but staying in the protective shell. every now and then he shoves one of the jeering crowd, and cotinues on.

Serin follows close behind, nary a word on his mind.

Glormir takes upon his court mantle as he enters the chambers and orders about the scurrying squires and assistants. Quickly approaching the podium, he steps upon it and takes a seat upon one of the council members chairs towards the center. He motions to the the two Captains to take two smaller seats that have been set before him on the dais and yells for wine to be brought. Finally, he calls out to the door keeper to open the doors wide and let the masses in.
Serin's eyes soon greet Glormir's and with a passing sigh, the captain lets himself down; in the good comfort of a fine chair.

Alannon shakes his head at the proffered chair, "I will stand if it pleases thee."

Stoat enters the courtroom with the crowd of locals. Many of the people seem to be those who claimed to have lost loved ones in the ship.

Glormir nods, "As you will, it bother me not at all." He looks by the man and smiles slighty, "Though it might bother you more to stand in a moment." As the wine arrives, he motions to the servant to give out the cups, "I will not suffer you to decline me in this at least gentleman. It is the least you deserve." Taking a sip out of his own cup, "Please, tell me your tale so that I may, Valar willing, bring a correct decision to order as to what shall be done."

Being perfectly still for the latter half of the conversation between the other captain and Glomir, Serin suddenly perks up as the subject of the ship returns to his corner. His eyes narrow slowly upon Glomir, and he pronoounce loudly, for the first time; "Allow me that duty. For was it not I first ahead on course?"