================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Midnight < About 12:07 AM >
IC day is: Oranor <Sun-day>
IC date is: 4 Iavas <Autumn>
Moon phase: First Quarter <HIDDEN>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 17 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3041>
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RL time: Thu Jul 26 09:02:36 2007
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High Green Wall
You stand now atop a large Green Wall, a natural fence of dense forest greens, which defines the southern cusp of the Egladil of Lorien, or the "Tongue" of Lorien as it has been called by Men. Just beneath the wall, to the southeast, a large green lawn stretches out for a hundred yards until it meets up with the union of two great rivers. One of them, the Celebrant, is brisk and eager, and flows down through the Mallorn thickets to your right. The other, the Anduin, is closer than you thought it would be, defining the edge of Lorien as it dominates the eastern horizon for as far as you can see.

Looking down across the lawn, you realize the tactical advanatge any bowman would have from this hightened post, both as lookout and archer. A small stairway leading to a tunnel-like passage appears to be the egress to reach the lawn itself.

Contents:
Galharth
Thorhur
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The moon hangs high in the sky, barely visible through the trees. Thorhur's keen eyes can pierce the dark as he nimbly walks through the endless woods, without a care and without a destination. He loves the night and can be found many a night in the woods of Lorien. When he comes to the High Green Wall, he stops to rest, scanning the trees for any signs of life.

Moving silently through the High Green Wall, the Tailor Galharth arrives from the south. His silvery hair, and pale complexion seem to glow within the moon and star light. Pausing his step, he peers around and catches sight of another. "Well met, mellon," he calls out softly.

Thorhur looks over from where the voice is coming up. He stands up and nods slowly at the other elf. "As are you." His blue eyes glitter and he looks up as the moon briefly passes behind a cloud.

"What brings you to the southern edge of Lothlorien?" Galharth asks as he takes a step closer. Tilting his head upwards, following Thorhur's gaze, he smiles and looks back at the Sentinel. "Perhaps you've come to lend aid to the recovery of the ship within the river, or perhaps to offer yourself as a Guard?"

Thorhur smiles back and shakes his head. "Neither I'm afraid. You see, I felt that I needed to take a walk, and get away from the city. So I came here to enjoy the night and think." After a pause, Thorhur continues, lowering his voice slightly. "I can feel evil abroad on our borders."

Silence meets Thorhur's words, and the clothier turns towards the east. For a moment, he peers through the darkness as if searching for something in the distance. "Alas, there is much evil," Galharth finally says as he continues to gaze eastward, "It surrounds us so much so that our very breath is taken under threat from that which would send us to the Halls of Mandos."

Turning back towards Thorhur, the Tailor lifts a brow. "Is there something approaching? Something we citizens need to be aware of?"

"If there is then I have not been notified," Thorhur states. "However, I feel these woods aren't as safe as they used to be." After a worried pause he resumes, but seems to be talking more to himself. "My ability to sense danger has gone unnoticed. It is much stronger than in other elves, but they have always dismissed my worries."

The clothier's brow remains lifted as he listens, and then upon the Sentinel's final words it drops to an expression of neutrality. "Say you perhaps," he says simply without providing definition as to what he refers. Glancing back to the wall, Galharth shrugs his shoulders. "Alas, I've got to get back. Enjoy the evening." And with that, he turns and disappears inside the High Green Wall.