================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Dawn < About 5:11 AM >
IC day is: Oranor <Sun-day>
IC date is: 22 Iavas <Autumn>
Moon phase: Last Quarter <VISIBLE>
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: Wed Aug 01 10:43:57 2007
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Northern Garden
These are the Northern gardens devoted to the enjoyment of those in the long process of healing and recovery. The air here
is quiet and full of a peace hard to find elsewhere, even amongst the Golden Wood. Small birds chirp softly as they move
towards their nests, and a warm breeze whispers through your hair. Off in the northern corner, surrounded by a bed of
brightly colored flowers, a small, but healthy, grove of apple trees flourishes. A lone empty looking basket is nestled near
the trunk of a particularly large tree. The aroma of hundreds of plants, glinting in the light, float upon the breeze as the
scent brings comfort and relaxation. Often patients can be found walking or sitting in these gardens, enjoying the peaceful
atmosphere. Nearly hidden to the west, a soft gurgling sound echoes from beyond a gate.
To the South, the ground slopes gently downward through a gap in a hedge of rose bushes to another garden beyond. And to the
North, a path leads out to the Golden Roadway.

Contents:
Thorhur
Maglind
Galharth
Galadriel
Earsul
Arahisie
Curanolas
=====================================================================

It seems that the Garden is deserted. Thorhur wanders through it, thinking he's alone. He likes being alone, and he likes it
even more when he's alone in the early morning with nobody but the birds to keep him company. He is just about to turn
around, when he notices a figure asleep under a tree. Walking closer, he realizes it is none other than Maglind. "Ah, this
is definitely the place to sleep," Thorhur mutters. He crakcs a half smile, then goes over to a nearby tree and sits down,
admiring the sunrise.

Maglind sleeps on, oblivious to the birds who pull at his pale hair. "It's run aground," he mutters bitterly, brushing away
a leaf. "You thought ropes could hold me? Hah."

Thorhur looks over at Maglind. He had just heard what had been said. Was he dreaming, because he didn't seem to be. Walking
over cautiously, he sits closer to Maglind, waiting to see what he would do. Picking up a leaf he plays with it
absentmindedly, staring suspiciously at Maglind.

"You can do nothing to me now," whispers Maglind as an inquisitive sparrow hops onto his eyebrow, studying his half-open
eye. "But she will find you, and ... ow." The warden is jerked into wakefulness as the little bird pecks his eyelid. "What?"

"Oh!" Thorhur is startled as Maglind wakes up. He had been in deep thought and almost forgotten he was there. Now, he
suddenly feels a bit embarrassed, but stands up and greets Maglind as warmly as he can. "Good morning Maglind," he begins in
a light voice. "I seem to have come by you as you slept, for I was just in the garden, having no other business, and came by
you. You were ranting in your sleep, but it seemed as if you were awake, and I sat down to..." his voice trails off as he
looks at the ground like a child who has done something wrong.

"Listen?" finishes Maglind dazedly, rubbing one eye. The birds scatter onto nearby twigs, calling shrilly. "But I didn't say
anything... what was I saying?"

"Oh, um..." Thorhur is at a loss for words. "I don't know, you see..." Thorhur thinks for a moment, whether or not he should
repeat what he said. Finally, he takes a step towards Maglind, then in a slow steady voice repeats Maglind's exact words.
When he finishes he hopes he hasn't done anything wrong.

"Oh," says Maglind, disappointment and disgust working on his mouth. "I see. Thank you very much, Sentinel. Oh, Elbereth..."
He turns away, hiding his face in the leaves.

"Maglind?" Thorhur suddenly feels very concerned. Sighing deeply he goes over to where Maglind is laying and sits down next
to him. "Maglind?" he says again, his voice a little louder. "What's going on? Can you tell me? Everyone has been acting
strange lately, and they have not said anything. Galharth, Ostiel, you...what is going on?" He looks at Maglind expectantly,
hoping for an answer.

"No, no, no," says Maglind quickly, waving his hands about. "There have been serious misunderstandings, and nothing more. I
am going to find the Lady Galadriel. Perhaps she will know what is wrong, and then you shall know too." He stumbles down the
branches.

Thorhur looks utterly confused. "Maglind! Wait? Something was obviously wrong a couple minutes ago!"

"Yes, it was," replies the warden, distracted. "Do not worry about it. The autumn is beautiful and you should be at your
post..."

And he takes off at a run, sprinting towards the Golden Roadway.

Thorhur is off on his tail, not letting him get away. "Maglind, please tell me! Everyone's been acting strange lately! It
seems that I'm the only happy person around here as of late! Tell me now!"

Galadriel, coming toward the garden from the Golden Roadway, quickly steps to one side to avoid Maglind's dash.

Just as it would seem the Warden is to escape, a long fingered hand lashes out and firmly grabs the hem of his robe. "Oh no
you don't! I've had just about enough and we've both got to get this settled." Dragging the other ellon back into the
garden, with a pinched expression, Galharth finally spies the object of their search. "Lady Galadriel!" He calls out as he
keeps a firm grip upon his friend's clothing. "Maglind and I would like a moment!"

Thorhur, clearly disrupting, feels ashamed of his actions and stops running. Sighting the Lady, he stops short and hangs his
head. "Maglind, I am sorry." Looking around again, he prepares to leave. "Okay, I feel like an idiot, so I'm just going to
leave, seeing as how it's only morning and I've already embarrassed myself in front of three people." With that, Thorhur
walks away slowly.

"Ow," struggles Maglind, as he is suddenly jerked back. He follows Galharth sullenly, his face carefully schooled to avoid
conflict, but his eyes dart here and there, searching.

Without a note of surprise, the golden-haired Lady simply nods to Galharth and affords only a brief glance to the snared
Maglind and sullen Thorhur. She is not here by chance; she is rarely anywhere by mere chance. "So I thought," she says in
that mysterious voice. "A moment I have, and more."

"Perhaps you've heard word whispered through the wood, or perhaps something more," Galharth says, making a firm jerk to reel
the Warden into the conversation. "But something was found that brought forth terrible visions, and now Maglind and I suffer
the memory." Glancing to his friend, and then to the lady, his crystal blue eyes plead where words could not. "Can you help
us, or guide us if we describe you our tale?"

"Visions of ages past," says Maglind, bright eyes pained and downcast, "but we see them clear as yesterday. Lady
Galadriel...."

A bit of the Lady's serenity is broken when Maglind speaks and the pain evident in both their voices seems reflected in her
own eyes. She nods a little and takes Maglind's hand, then bids them both follow her a few strides to a small cluster of
benches. The benches are surrounded by sweet smelling bushes with tiny white blooms which impart a comfortable barrier for
the trio. "I have heard some, but the whole truth I have been waiting to hear from you." By you, she means both, looking
long at both the elves before her.

Following the Lady to the bench, the clothier stands tall as if struggling to remain impartial to the words that are to
come. "Whilst diving, a number of objects were found." he begins softly, "A flute, a cup, a box, and a few other times of no
clear form. It seemed a simple dive enjoyed by us all."

The corner of his mouth rises slightly, reflecting a shadow of the moment he now describes. "And then, a knife was
found...." pausing, he chokes upon the words and his eyes close for a moment. When next the lids of his eyes rise, there is
a glistening of tears pooling with a threat to pour down his face. "Much was seen through my eyes, though what really
happened, I can not say. What I saw was ages past.....threat, harm, and a love lost in the turmoil." He lowers his head and
silent tears spill out. "I behaved poorly...."

Pulled one way, pulled the other, Maglind finally rests heavily on the bench, head bowed. "Friends became enemies, wrecks
treasures ... ellith beloved," he offers calmly, tonelessly. "There was a ship sinking, and we felt that it was ours."

He looks to Galharth, and a flicker of distress crosses his face. "Do I continue?"

"Friends," says Galadriel quietly, her voice slipping from her throat to the ears, then slipping warm into the chests of
those it is meant for, like a salve. "I see guilt written upon your faces, but I have not yet heard a cause for it. There
are things of mighty power in the world and ages, nay not even the mighty Anduin can lessen it. Do not hold yourselves
accountable." Galadriel fixes her eyes upon Galharth, "We sought more information about the ship's origins and it seems it
has been granted, though not in a way that any would have wished for." To both again, "Where is the knife now?"

Looking up with a hint of sadness, and indeed guilt as the Lady describes, the Tailor speaks. "The knife continues to rest
within the Anduin, as any who touch it become a threat to the violence of the owners last moments. The Minister Niinaeth has
suggested retrieving it without touch, and her council is indeed wise." Glancing to Maglind, he presses his lips tightly and
looks back to Galadriel. "I feel there is more to tell, and the knife creates visions long wanting to be told. I, nor
Maglind it seems, are strong enough to withstand such things. It pains...." Galharth pauses to swallow hard. "And sits
heavily upon the fea. The urge to fight back, to defeat an unseen enemy is powerful...... And yet, the story strains to be
told."

Frowning openly now, the crafter pauses to think. "Could one of us be restrained perhaps, or is there another within this
wood who has the inner strength we do not?"

"Tied to a winch and hung," suggests Maglind, eyes flashing bitterly at the memory. "Then a scribe would have to record the
words."

The Lady seems troubled, and looks down at her marble-pale hands, folded in her lap. "This is a dangerous game the cruel
river has brought to our shores. Better perhaps that such a device had remained lost for the fate of such powerful items is
never resolved peacefully." She lifts her head and there is a storminess there in those ancient eyes. "I cannot say right
now who might have the strength of fea. Pride bades me volunteer, but I know where my weakness lies." She sighs, and taps
the ornamental dagger depending from her own belt. "I too wish to hear the story, though I suppose we can all guess how it
will end. For now, I will post a guard, and the knife must not be moved." She pauses, then narrows her eyes and looks again
at them both, "I would hear what you do remember from your...visions. Details? Names?"

"An attack," Galharth immediately replies, "Beasts of ancient evil, swarming the ship and the lands to it's west. Docked? I
can not say, but the beasts swarming and spreading." The clothier's eyes grow glassy, and he stares off into the distance.
"The lady loved, carved upon the figure head she is among the beasts....."

Blinking, he frowns. "I had not realized that at the time. She showed no fear whilst the beasts attacked." Lifting a hand to
his chest, he seems to visibly feel pain. Shaking his head, he adds with conviction, "I would volunteer, but only if I could
be assued that I would do no harm to anyone."

"But then you do harm to yourself," protests Maglind gently, watching the tailor carefully. "Perhaps I may help, too?"

Strange talk of fell beasts and violence carries well in this place of healing; it is not accustomed to such harsh topics,
and would that they did not settle. So it is that Earsul hears the voice of Galharth, though he is not nearby. He is sitting
alone amongst the apple trees, but, curiousity piqued, he rouses himself to move closer to the speaker, that he might hear
better.

Thorhur has been feeling guilty about his outburst at Maglind, and is sitting a little away out of earshot from everyone.
Now, however, he is feeling better, so he walks back to the group and says, mostly to all those present, "May I join you?"

Galadriel smiles gently, a little sadly, at the brave volunteers. "Perhaps," she says quietly. "Perhaps Earsul wishes to
help as well," she says with a little more volume, leaning a little to look past the bushes that the surround the benches.

"No, no. It is not time yet, but there is not time to wait longer, someone else may be hurt. I know I said before that the
knife should not be moved, but my mind is changed. Galharth, your net? Fix it to a pole and get retrieve the knife. I want
to see it myself before I put it into anyone's hand."

Earsul has the grace to look embarassed as he moves into sight of the small group. "My Lady will, I hope, forgive my
eavesdropping. Such a curious subject that you would perhaps have thought less of me were I to have ignored it," he adds,
with a slight smile. "Though I must admit ignorance as to the details." Glancing from the Lady to Galharth, he frowns, as a
memory is touched. "Your winch was successful, then? You have found something in the river?"

Glancing towards the Prelate, the Tailor nods, "Indeed we have Prelate! Many things, including a knife of which we now
speak." Glancing back towards Galadriel, he again nods, "Perhaps he could be of help. One with Experience such as Earsul
could surely be of use to help us unravel the tale that works to unfold itself before our eyes." As he speaks, the respect
held for the Royal Court is clearly evident. Turning his gaze to the Warden, Galharth nods. "If Maglind will help me and
even Thorhur if he wishes, I'll set up the net and together we shall retrieve the knife," he pauses to look towards
Galadriel. "And I swear, none shall touch it until you've had the chance to examine it."

Thorhur moves forward now more, and looks long and hard at those present. "Forgive me, but I seem to be ignorant of recent
events. Frankly, I'd like to know whether someone will finally tell me why I have witnessed many strange things the past few
days. It seems I will be the last to know."

"The Minister Niinaeth spoke of a panning sieve. We could employ that, though the knife still calls to the diver," continues
Maglind, now restlessly twirling a flower in his fingers.

A slow gentle humming echoes on the air. The humming is followed by an elfmaid. It is Curanolas. She moves across the
garden, floating as she hums. She pauses and watches the group across the way, never once breaking her song. She doesn't
make a move toward them, just settles in a spot to watch and wait, testing to see what they're up to.

Galadriel smiles a little at Earsul as he joins the group and gestures that he, and Thorhur too, should sit down if they
wish. To Maglind, her earnest gaze returns, "I would stress Galharth's idea that there be not just one, but perhaps several
divers, to protect one another. Of course, any who do not feel they have the strength to resist should wait ashore. But...I
think that perhaps once the knife is away from the boat, its power may diminish. Getting it on land, across the lawn, it may
be safely stored and I will hasten to it."

Clearly exhibiting relief, the Tailor places his hand upon his chest and bends his head respectfully. "As I've said to many,
you are wise Lady Galadriel. We will see to the task and bring the knife into the city." Glancing towards Maglind, he sweeps
his hand towards the Warden, "And I'm sure Maglind shall see it its security against all who might be too weak to witness
the power of its vision."

Stepping back, Galharth glances to the others. "Is there no time like the present to take care of this matter?" he asks
firmly. "I'm ready to go forth to the river, how say all of you?"

Maglind sighs deeply, as if a harsh burden has fallen off his shoulders; he clenches a fist and looks up: "Aye."

"Excuse me!" Thorhur raises his voice a bit at those present. "I do not mean to sound disrespectful in the presence of the
Lady, but will somebody please tell me what has been going on with Galharth, Ostiel, and Maglind? For I would love to help
with what you are to undertake but can't until I know some things! Will someone please tell me?"

Curanolas takes a cautious step forward, but halts noting who all has gathered. She waits some more, humming lightly.

"Of course, I will provide whatever help I can," says Earsul, though still he frowns. Clearly, this is a departure from what
he expected to find here this morning. "Next to your wisdom, Lady, I am but a child, yet mayhap I can be of some assistance
researching this blade."

Galadriel lifts her golden brows slightly at Thorhur's exclamation, "Easy, friend. Follow the brave tailor and your help
will be gladly taken. A dangerous and powerful object has been released from the grasp of the Anduin, and it has stung those
whom you mention. We must bring it to the city." The Lady rises from her bench and so notices the nearby Curanolas. "Speak
to this daughter of Imladhris, Thorhur, for I was told she was present on the day it's shadow first fell."

Galadriel then nods at Earsul, "Research we do need, sir, and so far that well is dry. But should know of a dusty tome or
scroll that tells of the demise of ship in our river, I should like to see it."

At last, the Lady steps forward till she barely a hand's breadth from Galharth. She lays a palm upon his chest, and the
other on the shoulder of Maglind, "I think you shall both find the strength you need." Perhaps it is a trick of the climbing
sun and the waving braches, but for a moment a white light seems pressed between the hands of Galadriel and those that felt
the bite of the knife.

Curanolas nods and smiles gently as Galadriel notices her. She makes no move toward the group, sensing she should stay where
she is.

Thorhur smiles at Galadriel and nods to all present. "I am up to whatever the challenge is."

Glancing towards Thorhur, the Tailor nods to confirm the Lady's words. "Those who have felt the touch of the visions have
felt pain and a drowning guilt. I fear we have not been kind to any who could not see our inner pain." Pausing the
Sentinel's words touch his ears, and again he nods. "Your help is appreciated, though I am sorrowful to say that it might
indeed be a challenge."

A sharp inhale of breath, and an expression of confusion dance across Galharth's expression, but to Galadriel's words he
nods his head once. "Some how, some way, I trust your words, my Lady."

Turning his gaze to Maglind, his eye's show a lightening of his mood. "You're the Warden, I'll follow you to the river...."
he teases.

Seeing as how planning has taken over the minds of those that surround her, Galadriel slips away to make ready for her part
in this dangerous play.

Maglind trembles at the Lady's touch, but then he opens his eyes and smiles. "But you found the ship first!" he says
blithely. "Ai. We go together. Come, all."

And he steps briskly off to the roadway.

Earsul's own brows are raised at the mention of Imladris, and he looks around for the subject of Galadriel's words, and
notices Curanolas for the first time. Turning back to the small group, he sees Galadriel easily imbue confidence in those
who had begun to doubt themselves, and smiles at her gift. "I will talk to my friends at the library. If I find aught, I
shall send word."

Curanolas moves toward the group slowly as more notice her presence. "What is going on?" she asks as Galdriel slips away.
She nods gently to the Lady and turns back to the group. "I have a feeling I know what this is about, just not the
specifics."

Arahisie makes his way slowly into the gardens and nods to those hear by remains silent. Looking between those assembled
slowly.

Falling silent as the Lady leaves the garden, Galharth pauses a moment before glancing around. "It's about the knife, I
fear," he says to Curanolas. "We're going to attempt to retrieve it a second time, though unlike the first, we'll not touch
it." Offering a pointed glance towards the Warden, his lips curl slightly before he turns towards Earsul.

"I've done some reasearch, my friend," the Tailor says, "Though to be honest, I have limited skills in such things... I am
afterall a crafter first." Tilting his head, he continues, "Perhaps we can meet another time to discuss what we do know.
It's bound to help you search out what we wish to find."

As he speaks, movement out of the corner of his eye shows him the arrival of Arahisie and the departure of Maglind. "Alas!
Maglind's bound to try to search alone! Should we follow, or trust that he'll follow the lady's words?"

"Not alone," protests Maglind, waiting at the road. "I was waiting for you to follow."

Thorhur stands up and faces those assembled. "Despite the fact that I've been warned of the danger and have little knowledge
of what we are doing, I feel that we should get started as soon as we can!"

Curanolas nods to Galharth. "I will be glad to lend a hand."

Arahisie say in his low rough voice, "It sounds as if you plan to take a dangerous path my friend. Are you sure you are
prepaired for what you may find?

Nodding towards Maglind, the Tailor makes to follow. "Very well then Warden, we depart together!" And with that, Galharth
follows his friend towards the roadway. Pausing only a moment as Arahisie speaks to Thorhur, he nods as if to answer the
question for himself. "We'll meet you at the River Curanolas, and do take your time as we've several matters to attend to
before we're ready to retrieve the knife." With that, the clothier departs the garden.

Curanolas nods and turns to Thorhur. "I can clarify anything you need to know," she offers.

"Arahisie," Thorhur begins slowly, "I am prepared for whatever happens. I know I may seem careless sometimes, but I am up to
the challenge." As an afterthought, he turns to Curanolas and says, "Thank you, my friend. Won't you both accompany me to
the river and we can talk as we walk."

Curanolas nods.

Allowing himself a small bow, Maglind turns his face to the path and steps away, face determined and stubbornly young.

Not waiting for a response, Thorhur immediately dashes after Maglind and Galharth towards the river, hoping the others will
follow.

Curanolas follows the others.