Minas Tirith 'City of Death'

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Minas Tirith 'City of Death'

Postby Felaion » Mon Jan 21, 2008 6:46 pm

Minas Tirith ‘City of Death’

Minas Tirith, ‘City of Kings’ as it is currently known, translates as ‘City of the Guard’ into the common tongue. It was for the purpose of protecting the Pelennor fields that the citadel was built, not forgetting the western route to the Gondorian Capital of Osgiliath. However, during the passage of many years the great ‘City of Kings’ that was Osgiliath has moved to its present position as Minas Tirith, former ‘City of the Guard’. Built into the fifth level of the city is the proclaimed Guard Headquarters. It is in these halls, surrounded by some of the city’s green areas that the defence and security of the city is organised. Connected to the Guard Headquarters are most of the city’s barracks and training grounds.

Dashing along one of the walkways that connect the administration from the labour is one lone soldier. Clad in full Gondorian Plate, and grasping his spear he sprints off the walkway and into a large corridor, streaming with light from the morning sun that poured through the arches that created window space. This soldier nearly collided with a clerk carrying several books and scrolls heading the opposite way, and after a muttered apology sped on. Finally he crashed loudly through a doorway and into one of the many offices. This office however, was not like the others, for it was the office of Major Gareth Aldris, Captain of the Guard in the first level of Minas Tirith. This was quite a big deal, as the first level was the largest, most populated, and most venerable level to crime and attack. For the past few years, Gareth had been working overtime to get everything in order and it showed. Light was not particularly present in the room, until this soldier had opened the door. Upon this, light streamed into the room from the east, lighting up the dim gloom of the room, and penetrating every little corner. With the added light, the room seems much bigger, and with quite a lot of unused space. In the center of the office, is a sturdy looking oak table, piled high with papers and the remains of long burnt-out candles. Behind the table and along the back wall of the room are large bookcases, also filled with parchment and leather bindings. The only other interests to the room would be the array of weapons on the remaining walls, and the sleeping man slumped with his head on the desk. However the rude, and loud, entrance of the soldier from the Citadel Guard had awakened him sharply. Gareth looked up blearily, blinking in the bright light from the doorway, trying to make out the identity of the intruder.
“My Lord!” exclaimed the excited soldier,
“What is it soldier?” grumbled the major, standing from his oak chair and holding up one hand to block the blinding light. “Come in, close the door and explain yourself!” he barked, asserting his authority, and straightening for show.
“Yes my Lord!” the soldier replied, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. Instantly much of the light was cut off, and Gareth blinked, his eyes re-adjusting to the gloom. Once they had done so, he looked upon the soldier standing to attention before him, and nodded approvingly.
“At ease footman” worded the Major, sitting himself down once again behind his desk, and straightening a few papers. Looking up, Gareth recognized the solider before him, and smiled. “Captain Durvain! How have you been, and what the hell are you doing up here?” chuckled the Major, standing to greet the captain of the prison guard with a clap on the shoulder.
“Well enough Gareth, but the formalities can wait, I thought I’d come and tell you in person.” smiled Durvain.
“Tell me what, you old fool, out with it!” Gareth grinned, seating himself and pulling a bottle of wine towards him.
“We got him sir; we finally got Gwann-Orgaladhad.” Durvain exclaimed, puffing his chest out in pride.
“No!” gasped the seasoned soldier, in disbelief. “You finally got him?”
“Aye Sir and what’s more, this means if we can get him to talk…”
“That man must know more about the workings of every crime gang and the personal addresses of every crime lord in the city. By heck he’s worked for enough of them!” Gareth said, looking very pleased, forgetting about the bottle of wine. “This is perfect! Do you think you’ll be able to get him to talk?”
“Easily Sir, all I need you to do is sign the death sentence and leave the rest to me.”
“It will be done Durvain, before you can say ‘Glory to the King!’ Don’t you worry; I’ll have that document signed. How did you catch him, out of interest?” questioned Gareth, leaning back in his chair, gesturing to a second one in front of his desk, inviting Durvain to sit.
“It’s an odd story, to be honest. One of my guards, Phindor, caught a beggar trying to steal an apple from the market. Phindor recognized the boy as a ‘Felaion Baker’, one of the deserters from a border skirmish quite some time ago. Apparently, he murdered his own father to get away.” Durvain explains with enthusiasm, while seating himself in the chair provided. “Despicable, I know. After he was brought in, another of my soldiers found incriminating evidence on him, orders in writing from a client. It soon became clear who he was, so we had him locked up immediately.”
“Who were the orders from? Perhaps we can pin down one of those bastards for attempted murder already?” questioned Gareth, hopefully.
“Not a chance, Sir. The letter was addressed to Gwann-Orgaladhad, but was signed with a ‘T’. It could be anyone in the city.”
“Well, what was the order? Someone out there is mighty lucky he won’t finish this week with a dagger in his gut” muttered Gareth, disappointed.
“It’s a she, Sir. Sayvara Allen’s the name on the letter.”
“Never heard of her, but she has no idea how lucky she is.” chuckled Gareth, with a wry smile. “Ah well, best be getting back to work. I’ll head down to visit our ‘prisoner’ later. He and I need a little chat…

That evening, yet again a soldier was dashing toward Gareth’s office. However this time, he was coming from the stairs, having just run all the way from the prison. Once again, a soldier bashed into Gareth’s room, but this time, the Major was awake, and busy working by candlelight, for the sun’s light had already passed behind the mountains, casting the room in shadow. This time, it was different soldier.
“My Lord! We have a problem.” exclaimed the soldier, before Gareth could speak.
“What is it?” muttered an exasperated Gareth.
“Gwann-Orgaladhad sir, He’s gone.” reported the soldier, trying to get his breathing back under control.
“WHAT!?” roared Gareth, jumping to his feet. “How is that possible?!”
“I-I don’t know sir! They asked for you down in the prison!” stammered the soldier.
“Stop your mumbling boy!” barked Gareth, grabbing a sword from the wall and rushing from the room, turning sharply to the left as he left, and all but sprinting down the stairs.
Inside the office, the soldier grinned slyly, removing his helmet and placing it gently onto the oak table. Rushing quickly, but quietly, he moved to the bookcases. This man can’t have been very old, twenty-two at the most, with short brown hair and deep blue eyes. His stance was lithe and flexible, but built onto him was a considerable amount of muscle. This man had clearly never been shy about heavy labour. As he rummaged through the bookcases he occasionally swore, pausing to figure out a word inside his head. Finally he found what he was looking for, a file labeled “Gwann-Orgaladhad”, but did not stop there, and continued searching till he found one named “Sayvara Allen”. Compared to the file for “Gwann-Orgaladhad” “Sayvara Allen’s” file was considerably smaller, but when opened on the table, the reason became clear. Scribed in large black letters on the first piece of parchment were the words ‘File incomplete. Main documents held in the Citadel Library. Classified.’

However, this did not seem to bother the man, and he turned the page, searching for something else. He soon found it. Sayvara Allen had been recorded leaving the city. The file contained the date, and the direction she was headed in it even contained later notes as she had crossed the border. The man had found what he wanted, and with a shrug he tossed her file back onto the shelves. Then, with a swift movement he grabbed the candles from the table, and brought fire his own file, stuffing the burning parchment into the shelves, and took off, grabbing the helmet before he left.

Gareth was being led down a dark passageway by a stammering Durvain, trying to apologize or find some kind of explanation. Gareth had insisted on seeing for himself, and soon enough, he was gazing into the cell previously occupied by Gwann-Orgaladhad. The cell was clearly empty, and Gareth looked around with a keen eye, puzzling to himself while Durvain explained how they had found a guard locked up instead of Gwann-Orgaladhad, bound and without his armor and badge. Gareth frowned, returning up the passageway with Durvain in tow, heading for the city walls.
“What do you think he will do, old friend?” mumbled Durvain meekly.
“He’s left the city.” explained Gareth calmly.
“H-how do you know, my Lord?” stammered Durvain.
“Call it intuition.” explained Gareth, looking out from the walls of the third level over the Pelennor Fields.
“What will we say; people will want to know what happened? Especially my guard who caught him…”
“We will tell them… Hmm. We shall tell them that Gwann-Orgaladhad is dead, that he was executed. And that we exiled the boy know as Felaion Baker.”

Meanwhile, a figure dressed in black, appearing as naught but a dark shadow was watching the pair from atop the wall of the fourth level. Discarded into the street was the amour he had previously worn, as it served no use any longer. As the first clerks began to find Gareth’s office in flames, he leapt down from the wall, softly onto the roofs of the houses in the fourth level, beginning to make his way to the city gates. Gwann-Orgaladhad knew his next target and began to make his way north, to Bree-Land.


((A short story I wrote a while back))
Master Vagandro Rist - Jedi Sage & Diplomat
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Re: Minas Tirith 'City of Death'

Postby Sayvara » Tue Jan 22, 2008 2:30 pm

Oooh! I like! :) Very good!

I gotta get myself back in this game soon. Especially since Funcom keeps pushing the AoC release date.

/S
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