[Arvedui III]

The white pinnacles of the great city jutted outward as the company drew to Minas Tirith. Never ceases to amaze. Rangar thought, closing his awed mouth and allowing a smile. Rangar just simply stared at the vastness of the place, a nervous kind of energy sinking in. As they rode up through the levels, Rangar and Turthol amused themselves by watching those who had not yet seen the city, Tareth, Bregand and Carmalita especially. Worries of where they were going to stay had just begun creeping into Rangar's mind when a friend of Wren's showed up, and nodding curtly after being introduced, Rangar rode onto still higher circles and arrived at the Chambria's.

If there was ever an eye-opening experience since he'd first seen the city of kings, that was it. After dismounting they were escorted through grandiose rooms of incredible color and variety, presented with clean, formal, albeit slightly uncomfortable, cloths and treated to a magnificent dinner. The latter felt a bit awkward at first, as Rangar did not feel completely at ease anywhere without the comfort of his cloak and the security of his sword. But, that did not mean he didn't hesitate for a moment to fill his belly with the fine food while Turthol joked and Wren flung peas and the elves talked about thing he couldn't understand and Bregand desperately tried to get Camalita to notice him. What a group He thought, shaking his head and smiling.

As dinner drew to a close, Rangar hurriedly excused himself and made for the safety of the stables. It wasn't that he did not like the dinner, just, his anti-social instincts bade him seek solitude; and Rangar wasn't about to disobey. Finding his way through the Chambria house proved to be less of a challenge then he thought; After only ten minutes of wandering, he sat down on a bale of hay, taking in the quiet light and peace of the stables.