Tales of Bree

================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is:    Late Night < About 2:19 AM >
IC day is:     Oranor <Sun-day>
IC date is:    26 Ethuil <Spring>
Moon phase:    New <HIDDEN>
Earendil:      Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is:    Loa 15 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3039>
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RL time: Wed Oct 18 08:06:39 2006
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Rose Garden
You stand in a small rose garden dazzled in white, red, and yellow. Placed in an circular pattern about the garden, a walkway made up of small, uplifted ceramic tiles form rings of walking space surrounding a large golden mallorn planted in the center. Shade from its limbs splay outward over this walkspace to provide for a pleasant atmosphere. Here and there, benches, one with a lamp rising up out of the ground next to it, are placed for guests to enjoy the shade and the scenery.

To the south, a tall hedge hides the entrance to the shaded lawn. East, among a gnarly set of old oak trees, a small path leads to the Apothecary, while to the North another path leads to the Northern Gardens. To the West, a gate leads out to the Golden Roadway. Lastly, to the side, sparkling beneath a silver arch, a set of stairs can be seen leading to a talan up above. Shown by the starlight, twinkling down from the sky, all is quiet in the Garden.

Participants:
Galharth
Mia
Henleg
Rinarato
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There is a hint of moisture in the air and on the ground, the temperature comfortable (it is spring, after all), and the land of Lothlorien is illuminated by an infinite number of stars shining clearly on this moonless night. There is a hush across the woods, one of expectation and hope as the world around the hidden land of the Galadhrim wakes up from a long winter slumber, and it affects all living creatures. It is excitement buried deep within, the thrill and joy of rebirth that touches one and all.

And so we find one of the Quendi on this very night, walking from bush to bush in the garden with a sharpened knife in hand. She pauses and bends, fingers gently cradling a new blossom as she moves it to her nose and takes in a deep breath of rose-scented air, and lets it out in a soft sigh. But then, with a sudden movement, the knife flashes in the starlight, a barren branch falling to the ground. Mia straightens and goes about her business, carefully pruning the thorny plants.

"Of all the seasons, I think this is my favorite." Galharth says as he steps out from between several thriving rose bushes into the illumination falling from the stars above. While he does not look directly at the elleth performing her chores, there are few others whom he might be speaking with. "Life renewed, a promise of growth, beauty, and prosperity." Pausing at a deep green bush with deep red blossoms, he bends slightly to inhale the scent. His expression is one of joy, and a slight curve to his lips reveal his response to the scent.

From the northern gardens a whistled tune can be faintly heard, although it grows stronger as whoever whistles nears the rose garden. After a moment, a figure appears upon the path, cloaked in elven-grey, with a mane of raven hair cascading down. A Man this is, a few of the secondborn graced by the sights of fair Lothlorien, and he seems to be in another world, or perhaps inanother time, as he slowly walks with eyes turned upwards. He stops as he enters the rose garden, and takes a deep breath, his eyes coming down to regard the elves. "Mae govannen", he says with a deep baritone voice. "Every time I come to this blessed land is like it was the first time I was here", he adds, and takes another deep breath.

"I always tell myself that Spring is my favorite time of year... and then Summer arrives, with it's lazy, warm days... and then Autumn, when the leaves turn color and there is a chill in the air... and then Winter, with her frigid blasts of wind and frost that coats the grass and crunches under your feet." Mia sighs as she straightens, her hands finding the small of her back as tiny pops sound from weary bones. "I do wish for snowfall, sometimes, though."

She nods her head to the arriving human, altering the conversation slightly to accomidate his comments. "It IS like the first time you came, Henleg, for nothing has changed. Not the weather, nor the landscape, nor even the people who populate this land. It is as it has been and will be for some time yet tome come." Despite heavy words and a deeper meaning, her tone is light and airy, almost sing-song in it's meter. "That cloak of yours... tell me of it's past winter! I bet there is a tale or two hidden within its tears and stains...."

At the instant of greeting the elleth, a sound touches the Clothiers ears, and he turns his head slightly in an attempt to identify it's source. Brows furrow slightly, not in unpleasant reaction, but in what appears to be curiosity. "Interesting," he whispers aloud at the moment the human appears. Watching Henleg's entrance his brow smoothes and a hand lifts to set lightly upon his chest, "Mae govannen," he responds politely. An approving smile curves his lips further into a smile and Galharth glances upwards slowly as if to catch the same sight that the human reflects in his words and those of the elleth that follow upon his arrival. "There is some change, slight though it is. Preserved in the moment of beauty, at a time and view for which we crave to retain." Lowering his gaze, he glances to Mia, with his smile widening to it's fullest point, "Though I agree with Mia, an occasional snowfall would be nice."

Turning his gaze towards the human, the smile fades slightly, "I too find interest in what stories you might tell, cloak related or not. So please add my interest to that expressed by the lady."

Henleg grins broadly, and he nods. "Well, there is not much to tell, I'm afraid... at least, of the most recent tears of my poor old cloak", he says, and then laughs, a crystalline laugh that makes the Ranger's eyes wrinkle with mirth. "The passage through the mountains is always rough, specially if you need to be careful about meeting orcs and wolves", he ads, shrugging. "Luckily, none had come out of their dark holes yet at my passing... and I wish they never do come out ever again. Although the chances are slim of my wish becoming true".

"Oh, they come," Mia replies, "Like a plague, they come and befoul the land. But they cannot last." She takes her knife and cuts two of the roses, a full bloom in purest white and one in cheerful yellow. She walks towards Henleg and afixes the white one to his new elven cloak, "Purity, secrecy, and humility...". She then takes the yellow blossom and tucks it behind the leaf-shaped ear of the tailor with a smile. "Joy and happiness."

"From a distance, the mountains seem cool and beautiful, strong and majestic while draped in their snowy attired. It seems almost cruel that foul creatures are cradled within the depths." A hint of color rises upon the Crafters cheeks, revealing a slight embarrassment to the possibly innocence of his words. Quickly, he adds more to the words already spoken. "But I have heard things such as you've said from several of my own relatives, so I doubt them not."

Glancing towards Mia as she confirms the appearance of the orc, his eyes widen as the elleth places the roses upon first the human's cloak and then behind his ear. His hand lifts quickly to touch the soft petals while his mouth opens and closes quickly, releasing no sound with the movement of his jaw. Watching the lady lower herself to the ground, he slightly shrugs his shoulders slightly, and turns his gaze back to look upon the human. Galharth takes a slight breath, allowing the look of puzzlement to replace the mask of embarrassment. "If the dangers are indeed so high, why then do you travel alone?"

Henleg remains still as Mia puts the white rose upon his cloak. The Ranger then smells it, closing his eyes and brething its fragrance. "Thank you", he simply says, as she moves to put another rose on Galharth. He regards her then, and then galharth, while he says, "Boring? Perhaps, seen with hindsight, it is. But atthe moment you feel blood pulse through your veins, expecting to see an orc appear at any moment. And even if my last trip to Lothlorien was, luckily, uneventful, my trip from Bree to Imladris wasn't. Orcs I found, and a fair share of trolls... nasty creatures, bigger than any elf or man you've seen, and with strenght to crush you if they grab you. If you want danger, well, those were dangerous situations indeed!" The Ranger advances a couple of paces. "And it's not by my own desire that I travel alone. Yet, it was my luck to do so, for others were sent east, and west, and north from Imladris. And I decided to come south, to check on the orcs of the Hithaeglir, and then come to Lothlorien to find some rest".

"Tranquility we have, that is for sure!" Mia says with a laugh. "So you travel alone this time because you were the smartest of the group, knowing full-well that your haven lay a short and uneventful trek away?" Again she laughs, her hand raised as if to dismiss the humans' earlier statement. "I didn't ask about danger, though, I asked of adventure and bravery! Don't tell me that yrch are all that we can speak of when discussing your travels, for I know well that you have seen many lands and many peoples. Tell us of the Anduin vale, where Beorn's folk roam! Or the little people!"

She looks to Galharth and grins, "And you should know that looks are often deceiving! However, in my case, you have no need to worry: I am just as frightening as I look. So much so that I would tell any and all not to settle themselves anywhere near me for comfort's sake." As she speaks, a gentle pat is given to the ground to either side of her. "If we are to talk," she says to the pair, "then we should be comfortable, and I am afraid I might strain my neck looking up at such towering figures!"

Regarding Henleg carefully, mild puzzlement continues to reign upon his expression. "Then it is due to duty that those of your kind went forth, or upon orders, ultimately bringing you south," Galharth says, speaking his understanding aloud. "A few within Lothlorien patrol our borders. They in turn call forth all able to protect the lands within from those outside. And as you say, the humans from Imladris keep watch, it seems we might all coordinate to better serve our defenses." The rose behind his ear slips slightly, and a chuckle escapes his lips. "And then perhaps a Bard might come forth and direct me how to perform as a Tailor. Forgive me, often times words that should remain unspoken often escape innocently."

Turning towards Mia, the puzzlement and confusion fade slightly, and a friendly smile appears. "I'll take the risk dear lady, and settle in comfort within your reach." With that, he gathers his robe and lowers himself to a patch of ground not far from the elleth. "As Mia has said, we're here to talk so do tell of the things she speaks. Of which I've read of, yet have never seen."

"Well, tales of bravery you seek?", Henleg says, as he sits beside Mia. "Tales of the small folk in their small burrows? Tales of how Big and Small Folk have made a thriving community, where each respectsthe other and all live in peace? I could speak of those", he says, as he leans back and rest on an elbow, his long legs stretched in front of him. "But that peace and that thriving community... well, lets just say that they remain blissfully ignorant of the dangers that are quite near their villages... nearer than they think, and to many of them orcsand trolls are but stories to scare their children", he says. "So, of which should I tell, Mia?", he asks, his Sea-greyeyes onthe lleth.

"Well, lets see", Henleg muses, as he scratches his head. "I'm not a gifter story teller or bard, so you must excuse if my telling is a bit... plain, specially among those gifted with the ability to make beautiful songs and retell stories in a most entertaining way", he says. To the two newly arrived elves he nods, and then continues. "There wasthis time when I found a woman, old for the standards of Lesser Men, a mere sapling for the Firstborn", he says. "Fifty years she might have had, and she was out in the woods A cane she carried to help her walk, and unmindful she was of the perils that the woods held".

Excitement dances in the Clothier's eyes, as the human speaks of tales that might be told. Leaning forward, clearly attentive to the conversation, the sound of a whistle filters upon the air and causes the ellon to sit more upright. Glancing around to find the source, Galharth finds two who have entered the Rose Garden. Nodding at the new arrivals, first towards the north, and then to the south, he looks to Mia as she speaks louder, clearly including the new arrivals. Sitting back quietly, he listens.

"Not a warrior, indeed, for those people have little use for such. War is a far away thing from them, only remembered in song", Henleg replies. "A shepherdess she had been in her youth, I think, but after she grew old she did nothing more than look after the youngest and tell them the tales of old, so that they were remembered", he adds. "Yet, she knew nothing of the lurking things that were inthe wood, hungry for meat and blood. And old as she was, nearing the time of her departure from the circles of the world, easy prey she would have been for them".

"In the lands of Bree, a small village many days to the north and west of the Golden Wood", Henleg replies. "And there she was, walking with her cane as the sun set and night came, going towards the small house she shares with her husband. But lo! Her destiny held something different than a peaceful night and a good sleep for her, for dark creatures roamed the woods, and smelled her. And slowly, creeping from tree to tree, they approached, their clawed hands reaching and their hateful eyes full of hunger", he adds.

Frowning deeply, Galharth seemed to withdraw slightly from the human and the story told. "Horrible! Clearly it seems that innocence and a lack of knowledge is not but potential prey to demons of the night." Drawing his hands together, he clutches his fingers tight. "It would be my hope that something was done so that this woman might learn the errors of her ways for what little future is left for that of her kind.

"Indeed, she learned", henleg replies, nodding earnestly. "For the creatures revealed themselves as she walked through a clearing in the wood, and it was a pair of the most fearsome beasts one of the Breefolk will ever meet: a pair of trolls! Indeed, two of the towering monstrosities had entered the woods, and were now attacking the por woman", he adds. "Alas for her, she had nothing to protect herself, but her walking stick and her fists".

Narrowing his eyes, as if revealing some suspicion about the turn to the story, once more the Clothier leans forward, listening. "Perhaps something so simple as a walking stick could be used as an advantage against a beast noted to hold little intelligence." Galharth says slowly, "I myself have told cousins that the simplest of things such as a measuring stick or a pair of knitting needles could be employed as a defensive weapon should I ever need one." Unclutching his hands, the ellon sweeps an arm forward, turning his hand upwards as it moves. "Please, continue. Tell us how the old woman fared against such foes."

"Well, trolls have skins hardas rock, so knitting needles or walking sticks do little against them", Henleg says. "But the old woman found unforseen help, for even as the trolls advanced on her, two figures stepped forth and, drawing blades, proceeded to attack the lumbering monsters", he adds. He then stands, and begins hopping back and forth, mimicking attacks, parries and defenses as he continues. "The figures charged the trolls, their weapons glittering with the moonlight (for night it was), and came within striking distance of the trolls. And although trolls aren't very bright, they know swords, and also know what they might do to them. So, the figures stood against them, and attacked with slashed right, left and center, trying to get the trolls' attention. And in the meanwhile, the old woman had some help, and slowly but surely she was led away from the trolls and their hungry bellies!"

The Clothiers eyes widen and he begins to chew upon his lower lip as he listens to the tale and his eyes follow Henleg's movements with keen interest. "Amazing," he whispers softly, more to himself than to any of those around him. "These Hero's who put themself between the trolls and the old woman, were they human?" Galharth asks, "And were the Trolls finally driven off?" Drawing his hands tightly together once more, he begins to wring his hands slightly. "How long do you suppose it took these two to learn how to defend against a Troll?"

"Quite some time", henleg replies to Galharth's last question. "For indeed, they were Men. And they succeeded, for the trolls' attention was diverted,and the old woman carried safely away. Afterwards", he adds, coming to sit down again, "it was just a matter of losing them in the woods. Something easily done, given the fact that trolls are not the brightest of beings".

Lessening the grip of his hands, Galharth seems to relax. "I am glad for the old woman, for while I know her not, I can see none fall prey to the creatures that lurk within the realms of evil." Leaning back upon his hands his face pinches slightly in thought. "Perhaps your tale does more than entertain, Ranger," he says thoughtfully. "I thank you for the story Henleg. It was well spoken."