Grey Gloom [Gandalf] {October 3009}
Aug 23, 2018 8:56:54 GMT -5
Post by DENNY on Aug 23, 2018 8:56:54 GMT -5
He was in the city. News had come from the heralds of the gates that Gandalf the Grey; Mithrandir, had passed through the obsidian gate not an hour past. A cloaked, grey rider, though all knew him; Denethor most of all. He never sought his council. He had never wished for it, yet years would pass with no word of the Grey Pilgrim and then again he would appear; speaking words of things as if Denethor did not already know. He had been here some times in recent years, always seeking the scrolls and the archives, for who knew what purpose. It was true that Denethor had instructed the archivist to take aside what things Gandalf had read, that Denethor would look over them himself thereafter with his long nose and his dark eyes; perceiving what information Gandalf would glean from ancient papers.
Denethor snorted to himself, half a silent breath as he crossed the long silent hall past the silent statues of Kings of old. His leather boots made great stride beneath his fur covered shoulders, and greying hair, moving in grey gloom as he found his way to the black stone dias beneath the empty throne of the King.
What grim news would Gandalf bring this time? It mattered not for Denethor, for he knew already the state of affairs. Closely did the Steward watch the borders of his own land, even more closely and more widespread was Denethor's gaze than those of the ranger who patrolled Gondor's more dangerous borders. More observant was the Steward than the rangers among the Faithful in fair lands which had turned dark, for the Steward had knowledge and wisdom on his side, and hidden in the great white tower; the great spire of Minas Tirith himself, he had his own seeing eye. The stone of old which could be wielded by only the lines of King was there for his use, though no Steward had dared to touch it. Nay, not even the last Kings of Gondor nor Arnor had touched the palantiri, not since Minas Ithil had fallen to the hand of Sauron, and become what it was now; Minas Morgul. The Ithil stone was unaccounted for, and none until Denethor had presumed that it was of safe consequence to use.
With the Palantir, Denethor could watch over his own lands, and even lands far-off. He needed no council. He needed no advisor, for he he held to information which he saw himself with his own grey eyes. His knowledge and wisdom were greater than any man, passed down through his line. It was impossible to deceive him, though he did not put Gandalf above trying.
What he knew was this; and it was nothing Mithrandir could tell him. Osgiliath need be strong for it came between Ithilien and Minas Tirith. Ithilien's reaches went all the way to the very brink of Mordor itself. If the enemy were to overrun Ithilien, it would be all the more near to Minas Tirith. He knew already what need be done. What need be set in motion; a new garrison of recruits to hold Ithilien, and reinforcements for those is Osgiliath.
In the plan of strategy, would this not make the most sense? To keep the enemy as far at bay as possible. If the orcs were seen among the mountains and in the wilds, though none had crossed the Rammas Echor in Denethor's lifetime, there was no telling how long it would be before they made themselves so visible among the nearby forests. None of this information Mithrandir could give him. Gandalf the Grey would find himself most unwelcome in this city.
@gandalf
Denethor snorted to himself, half a silent breath as he crossed the long silent hall past the silent statues of Kings of old. His leather boots made great stride beneath his fur covered shoulders, and greying hair, moving in grey gloom as he found his way to the black stone dias beneath the empty throne of the King.
What grim news would Gandalf bring this time? It mattered not for Denethor, for he knew already the state of affairs. Closely did the Steward watch the borders of his own land, even more closely and more widespread was Denethor's gaze than those of the ranger who patrolled Gondor's more dangerous borders. More observant was the Steward than the rangers among the Faithful in fair lands which had turned dark, for the Steward had knowledge and wisdom on his side, and hidden in the great white tower; the great spire of Minas Tirith himself, he had his own seeing eye. The stone of old which could be wielded by only the lines of King was there for his use, though no Steward had dared to touch it. Nay, not even the last Kings of Gondor nor Arnor had touched the palantiri, not since Minas Ithil had fallen to the hand of Sauron, and become what it was now; Minas Morgul. The Ithil stone was unaccounted for, and none until Denethor had presumed that it was of safe consequence to use.
With the Palantir, Denethor could watch over his own lands, and even lands far-off. He needed no council. He needed no advisor, for he he held to information which he saw himself with his own grey eyes. His knowledge and wisdom were greater than any man, passed down through his line. It was impossible to deceive him, though he did not put Gandalf above trying.
What he knew was this; and it was nothing Mithrandir could tell him. Osgiliath need be strong for it came between Ithilien and Minas Tirith. Ithilien's reaches went all the way to the very brink of Mordor itself. If the enemy were to overrun Ithilien, it would be all the more near to Minas Tirith. He knew already what need be done. What need be set in motion; a new garrison of recruits to hold Ithilien, and reinforcements for those is Osgiliath.
In the plan of strategy, would this not make the most sense? To keep the enemy as far at bay as possible. If the orcs were seen among the mountains and in the wilds, though none had crossed the Rammas Echor in Denethor's lifetime, there was no telling how long it would be before they made themselves so visible among the nearby forests. None of this information Mithrandir could give him. Gandalf the Grey would find himself most unwelcome in this city.
@gandalf