================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Early Afternoon < About 2:37 PM >
IC day is: Oranor <Sun-day>
IC date is: 32 Laer <Summer>
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: Tue Nov 07 12:12:38 2006
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Long Lawn

You stand amidst a long lawn of shining grass. It ripples in the gentle river breezes like tresses of golden hair, sprinkled too with hundreds of golden elanor flowers which radiate with the light of the sun. The eastern edge of the lawn fades into a white-stone beach, lapped upon by the deep and dark waters of the broad Anduin river which flows from the north, continuing southwards forever onto the sea. Joining the Anduin directly to the south is the Celebrant river, which hurries towards you from between the groves of Mallorns to the northwest. Northwards, the lawn is bordered by a high green wall of dense forest growth. With your sharp elven eyes, you spy a small recess in the wall, perhaps a passageway which leads through it.

Contents:
Mia
Urdusul

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High above, anor sits slightly to the west, announcing to all below that the world ventures into early afternoon. Upon the long lawn, a breeze blows from the south, over the river and onto the southern most tip of Lothlorien. The moist, warm air of summer, sets the grass of the lawn into a slow and gentle dance which seems to highlight the delicate flowers mingled among the yellow and green grass.

On this day, a silver haired ellon stands upon the shore, facing south with his face into the breeze. His hair dances in time with the grass, as the silvery lengths sweep over his shoulders. His arms are crossed, and his eyes are closed, as he seems to be enjoying the beauty of a summer day. At his feet a large bag sits. While the bag appears to be ignored for the moment, the flap dances in the breeze, partially exposing a brilliant length of white cloth.

Walking south through the wind-kissed lawn is another ellon, his raven hair tossed here and there by the wind; though he seems to enjoy it less than the other. He moves through it swiftly and easily, in his one hand his precious mandolin; in the other, a scroll of parchment; music, perhaps.

Urdusul's grip, however, is too lose on his paper, and it is tossed up into the wind, "Oh." he say, somewhat loudly, in suprise, and turns to chase after it.

Naked toes slip silently across the lawn, the feet they are attached to traipsing over crests and through dips in the land. A swag of fabric is held carefully, exposing ankles and a flash of shin intermittently; a skirt, one might observe if not hypnotized by the hints of pale flesh and neatly manicured nails. Looking higher, it can be seen that the skirt (or dress, to be exact) is on a maiden, one who is whistling as she walks, though more often than not the sound is carried away by the wind before it can reach her own tapered ears. Mia seems not to mind, however, and switches to humming as the wind picks up, her bare feet skipping along to the impromptu music.

She is pulled from the moment by a exclamation from nearby, and she is fast enough to see as the unfortunate edhel looses his scrap of paper. Her previous task conveniently forgotten (if, indeed, she ever had one) Mia smiles and shouts a mighty "Oy!" before joining in the chase.

A whistle, and a sound of alarm, made behind him, sends Galharth into a whirl. Icy blue eyes flash open, silver hair swing round his shoulders, and his sky blue robe tangles round his legs. His head turns first to the elleth, and then to the ellon, and alarm turns quickly to concern as he too catches sight of the fluttering paper.

"Let me help!" the Clothier calls out as he steps forward to join the chase. Unfortunately, the length of his robe conspires with the quickness of his turn, and the briskness of the breeze, causing an unusual mishap. For one of the firstborn, blessed with grace, Galharth's tangled robe sends him not forward as he had intended, but off balance, falling face forward with arms swinging wildly. "Aieeeeee!" He screams out in alarm.

His own naked feet dance across the lawn, but the elleth's 'oy' suprises him greatly; he turns his head around sharply.

Meantime, the paper, almost with a will of it's own, begins to dance through the air in Mia's direction, perhaps caught in some cross breeze.

Urdusul stops when he hears Galharth, his eyes catching him as he falls down, "Are you alright?" he calls, almost sounding disinterested.

Mia leaps as the paper flies above her head, teasingly out of reach of her fingertips. "It taunts!" She wails through laughter, "Foul temptress! Fluttering tease!" She laughs as she chases the paper more, and harder still as the clothier tries to join the chase, but falls. It is all she can do, in fact, to breathe correctly for the amount of laughter, and her attempts at retreiving the paper decline into... well, soon she is, herself, on the ground, laughter pouring from her as she holds her side.

Striking the ground with a soft thud, Galharth's hands sink into the moist soil. Muttering something under his breath, he twists and turns slightly, untangling his robe. Looking up as Urdusul calls out, he offers a look of embarrassment. "I'm fine," he replies loudly.

Turning his gaze to the elleth, he shakes his head. "But it seems that Mia is in greater need of help." Pushing himself to his feet, Galharth holds muddied hands well before him to keep from soiling his clothing. "I would give you a hand up dear lady, but ...." he says, not completing his words, but instead he holds his hands up for inspection.

Furrowing his brows, he glances at those now in his company. "Did anyone ever catch the paper?"

He has lost sight of the paper now, and instead gives Mia and odd look, "There is no place for laughter," he blinks, as if amazed at her actions, "When there is work to be done."

"No," Urdusul says to Galharth, "But nevermind it, I suppose. It was only blank."

Genuine amusement creeps along her face as Mia considers the unfamiliar ellon before her, a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth as she sits herself up and stiffles her laughter. "Ridiculous! There is always time for laughter, as it often makes the work so much more bearable." She then reaches up a hand and looks to Galharth with a sigh, "You think I fear a bit of dirt, my friend? Then you know me not at all. A hand would be welcomed for decorums' sake, though not specifically needed. Seeing, however, as i am trying to retain some semblance of ladylike behavior, laughter not withstanding, then you could be a gentleman and help me to my feet."

The furrow remains upon the Clothier's brow, and a frown is added to his expression. "I have to agree with the lady. Laughter, joy, and happiness, all make work more bearable." Glancing at his soiled hands, Galharth shrugs his shoulders and steps forward, offering a hand. "Nay, I can't say you'd be one to fear dirt, for I've seen you work enough magic with it. Though I should drag you into the river to wash off the dirt, as payment for the laughter."

Glancing towards Urdusul, the frown fades, and a more friendly expression takes hold. "I'm Galharth, a Tailor within these fair woods."

"And pray, why is work unbarable?"

Urdusul waves his hand, as if dismissing his thought, "Never mind it," he says again, and this time bows his head, "Urdusul, a learner of the Glirdain," he says lightly, as though his own name were made of glass, "And to whom do I owe the laughter?"

"Well met, Urdusul. It is a pleasure to meet you." Galharth says with a bow of his head. As he speaks, the Clothier brushes off his own hands in unison with Mia's own action, and when done, he reaches down and brushes off his knees. "I had thought to work here today, but upon arriving I found the sun, the breeze, and the gentle sound of the water to be too distracting. It seemed a waste to do anything but enjoy natures efforts." Looking up from the inspection of his knees, he glances from one to the other. "What brings you both here today?"


RP Faded to Black due to MEGA LAG
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