The characters in Minas Tirith

ife was good at Erech. It was quiet, peaceful, and that was exactly what Eldarion enjoyed.
Of course, he lived within view of that dreadful hill, and that humongous black stone. It looked weird, standing on the middle of the hilltop. “I wonder what on earth Isildur was thinking when he put that stone on the hill…” he muttered darkly one day.
It was not long that night when those irritable ghouls came again. He could distinctly feel their presence nearby, which he would have known anyway by the loud and siren-like screaming of a woman. “Oh blast! Those dratted things have come again…” He said as he packed up his things, fed up. He had decided to go to Minas Tirith.

andering up to the Third Level of the Citadel, he saw a nearby inn. going in, he was sadly disappointed. No one was inside, or so he thought. That night did seem to pass rather quickly afterwards ! The bold acquaintance of a young flirtatious girl, the cutting off, of different parts of a particularly irritating wizard who spewed out undecipherable sentences of a lost archaic tongue all added up to the interest of the pubs.
The girl left soon after, as she also became intolerable to him. As for the wizard…suffice to say he was still in Orthanc experimenting with hair cream. The days passed by, and so did the many pubs. The chance of meeting new people still appealed to him though. Most of the meetings went off well, though some were to the contrary.
Worst was meeting the King and saying something about him and the Queen ! The mysterious split personalities of the King and a certain Mormegil also increased his cheek. He was getting well known, but mostly for the wrong reasons. The smell that pervaded the Pub after he came in was a nuisance.
The cheek he showed to everyone was sometimes well received, and sometimes it wasn’t. Most of the time it resulted to more time spent in the stables. He soon became well acquainted with those out-of-the-way stables - not to mention with the horses inside them. Hmm…perhaps they didn’t take too well to him at first.
After a few bouts of horses which suffered variously from diarrhoea, indigestion and incontinence,the days got slightly better. and soon, he was released from that duty. Ah! The freedom! It gave him much more time to do other things.

he calling came soon after. About a month after he came to Minas Tirith. Someone told him about how decorative and good looking he was, and that particular person also said he could possibly make money out of being a decorative item ! Therefore a few moments thought, and always ready for a laugh, and because his stomach was begining to fade away too much, he took on a very strange job, standing in a corner of each Pub trying to look as decorative and pleasant as he could. All went well until one night, during a somewhat boisterous evenings sing along, he fell and broke his nose. After that, he had nothing to do again. Bah! He spent most of his time looking for a new apartment. Finally, he found one that suited him, and that did not burn a hole in his pocket (after all, he wasn’t paid anything).

he Fourth Level was a nice place. Quiet and peaceful, with the exception of wailing ghouls in the night of course. His was a biggish apartment at the end of a road which had rather few houses along it. The Tower Theatre was nearby, but sufficiently far away so that the noise created could not travel too far. Luckily so. He could have gotten sick from the whistles of a particularly amorous man who lived just a street away. Finally a lucky break came. He became Bard with the good graces of the King and Queen. This was Paradise! Finally, something to fill up his days! Finally something that did not require standing in a corner for hours or cleaning dirty horses! Finally he had been recognized! (Also something with a pay pocket!) The job however, wasn’t that simple. He must have had at least a hundred sheets of paper in his wastepaper basket at one time. In fact, he must have thrown some pieces of paper down towards the Third Level towards the Oliphaunt Forest…that couldn’t possibly be the cause of their loose bowels? Soon, he discovered what he could do. Combine his cheek and poetic skills of course! He started on a trilogy of poems about the King and his amorous pursuits. Again, finally he could get back at the very same person who ordered him to clean the stables! Spill all the secrets! The job was thoroughly satisfying (Not to mention he could move up to the Sixth Level…)
Remember, don’t tell him anything that you shouldn’t! Beware of his pen and his tongue, and most importantly, never ask him to clean the stables!

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