Denethor, Steward of Gondor - A Good and Noble Man
Put yourself in Denethor's place, for a moment.
The Dunedain are your subjects, and you are their Ruler.
That is to say, the Dunedain depend on you for their survival.
On you. It's all on your shoulders. Whether they live or die, will be the result of the choices and actions you take.
And there is nobody else to make those decisions; there is nobody at all.
- - -
Your enemy is Sauron.
He is immensely stronger than you are.
He is raising an army of orcs that will be far greater than the army Gondor can field.
He is gathering armies of Easterlings, Haradrim, and Corsairs, to augment his strength.
You hold the line of Anduin, from Cair Andros in the north to Pelagir in the south.
You do not have enough men to man the ancient fortresses north of Cair Andros, nor do you have the power to mount a naval assault or defense.
You hold the near side of Osgiliath.
You know very well that your defenses at the river cannot hold against the assault from Sauron.
You know that Minas Tirith itself cannot hold out forever against the assault from Mordor.
You can fall back from Minas Tirth, but the strong places of Gondor behind you are not as strong as Minas Tirith.
Yet, your people are depending on you.
They have put their trust in you.
They believe in you.
In their eyes, you and your two sons, Boromir and Faramir, are the Guardians of the Last Bastion of the Dunedain, Keepers of the White Tower.
You are the STEWARD of Gondor.
- - -
So, you do what no Steward has ever done, has ever dared to attempt - not even the Kings Earnil and Earner dared this stunt.
You take on Sauron. You challenge him to a one on one combat. A DIRECT face to face combat with the most powerful being (except perhaps Tom Bombadil) in Middle Earth.
And you win, just enough that you can use the Palantir, and with it's sight see what is befalling across your Realm and across Middle Earth.
You do not realize that what you are seeing is what Sauron desires you to see ... you do not realize that you did not win the combat (nor did you quite lose ... the combat recommenses every time you look into the Palantir.)
The Battles with Sauron age you prematurely, make you old and grey before your time.
Yet for all that, you wear chain armor.
You wear it when you sit on your chair before the empty Throne.
You wear it when you walk the streets of the White City.
You wear it, when you sleep.
You wear it, so that your body will remain strong and unbowed, though age and the struggle with Sauron ever tries to beat you down.
You do not let that happen. You fight, and you never give in.
You discover that your son, Boromir, has been killed.
The shards of his Horn lay in your lap.
And what could possibly hurt more than the loss of your son? Was it not enough that your daughter, Findulas, died young? Is it not enough that your wife is dead, and you are alone in the world?
You loved your son as you loved nothing else, and now he lies dead, and you do not even know what killed him, or why he fought in that last battle of his life.
Now, you discover that Gandalf and your other son, Faramir, knew of the Great Ring.
And they put the Ring in the hands of a halfling.
And that halfling is being led by some sort of twisted, depraved monster.
In other words, a twisted, depraved monster is leading the Ring Bearer ... leading him to Cirith Ungol.
A place of CERTAIN death; a place of legendary evil that the loremasters of Gondor shrink from the very name of.
A place where it is certain the Ring will be regained by Sauron.
You see that even Gandalf is terrified, when this news is brought to you and him.
Once Sauron regains the Ring, his power will be magnified beyond all hope of victory for your people and your land.
THEN the Great Assault begins.
Your son Faramir is struck down, and lies dying in your House.
Your city is besieged; it is burning before your eyes.
Death is coming from the sky, and the terror of the Nazgul has beaten down the resilience of your people - your army has fled from the proud walls of the White City, and grovel and hide.
The Army has five times your force, and a great fleet is coming to it's aid.
There is no aid coming for you and your people.
- - -
I ask you people, and be honest, please: if this was a Player Character of yours, just how would he or she react at this point?
Could he or she stand up to the pressure?
Could he or she stand up to the impossible odds?
Could he or she find a way to find hope out of despair?
Could he or she find a way to achieve victory out of defeat?
Or would your Player Character crumble under the assault, both physical and psychological (from Sauron) ?
Would your character think that perhaps getting the heck out of there might be a good idea - running away, abandoning the White City and his or her people?
Or would your character say: to heck with it - I'm going to die ... might as well go out there and duke it out. If I gotta die, might as well go out in a big way?
I will say this again:
Could your character say:
There is yet hope.
Our people will endure.
Our people will prevail.
I will find hope somehow.
And I will believe - believe that our allies will come, and that the darkness is not as terrible as it seems?
Denethor was a good man, a noble man, but in the end he could not withstand the assault, and it killed him.
But before you condemn him, please consider what your player character would have done, and would have felt, if he or she had been in Denethor's dire straits.
So yes, when Boromir says (in Lothlorien) his father is a good and noble man, Boromir speaks the truth.