[Envinyatar]

It was late in the afternoon when the ships of Imrahil, son of Adrahil, the Lord of Dol Amroth sailed into port at Harlond just south of Minas Tirith. Elphir, his son and heir apparent, was with him, as the great ships bearing the blue banners of the House of the Prince of Dol Amroth emblazoned with the Ship and the Silver Swan pulled into dock along the Rammas Echor.

Aragorn, too busy with last minute details, had sent a small delegation to meet the arriving ships. The Prince and his men disembarked and formal greetings and welcome were exchanged. After a short time of formalities, Imrahil and his retinue were taken to the top tier of the White City where dwelt the King.

It had been a long while since Amrahil had seen Aragorn his old friend, now known as King Elessar. The business of securing the country had taken precedence over friendship and both men had found themselves occupied with the governing of their own regions. It was with great joy that Imrahil had received the invitation to Elessar’s celebration, and he brought his son to be presented to the King.

As the reached the seventh tier of the city, he could not help but notice that there was a frantic air about it. And not the sort of excitement of last minute preparations for a big celebration, but a state of panic that seemed to be escalating as he watched the King’s guards move quickly through the area as if searching for something.

One of the captains of the guard approached the official who had escorted the Prince to the upper tier, and pulled him aside for a whispered conference. There was a grave look on the man’s face as he spoke. The official’s face turned very pale, and Imrahil heard him gasp at one point.

Prince Imrahil motioned his troops closer to him and approached the captain and the now grief stricken official. ‘What has happened?’ he asked. ‘How may we help?’

So taken aback by the news was the official that he could not speak, but only shook his head. The captain stepped forward and bowed his head to Imrahil awaiting permission to speak. ‘What is it, Captain? Tell me.’ He was not prepared to hear the words which fell into the expectant silence between the.

‘It is the King, Lord Imrahil. He is missing, and I fear that something foul may have happened to him.’