================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Mid Afternoon < About 4:26 PM >
IC day is: Ormenel <Heavens-day>
IC date is: 43 Iavas <Autumn>
Moon phase: Full <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 08 14:28:59 2007
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Weaver's Talan
Woven intricately about and throughout the branches of this tree, this talan of the weaver is. Overhead is but the canopy of blossoming branches, rays of sun jubilantly dancing through the openings, starlight also peering through in its own turn. Many a lantern hang overhead; ready to be lit when the light becomes too dim for the weaver to work. A pile of baskets dominates one corner; dusty, the majority unused, and apparently made many a year ago. A loom is set in front and to the side of the baskets, sometimes still, but many a time click-clacking away merrily. A wheel used for spinning wool and other raw material into thread stands proudly next to the loom, ahead of the baskets, but the feeling of overcrowding is not present in the least here.

On the opposite side of the talan is a large oblong table laden with many things, a small glass box in the far left corner, and a contraption holding several large bobbins of thread at the far right. Three pots, each smaller than the next, stand together on the table along one side; three gossipers who are only silent while the weaver works. The tallest holds many rolled-up scrolls, the one of medium height and build holding beads of shiny glass, the last and smallest of the trio holding needles and pins. Two mannequins stand next to the table, used to hold works-in-progress when needed.

Contents:
Galharth
Mithsul
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The sun lays heavy, round, fat, and orange upon the western horizon. Almost as if the hand of a giant is pressing on the top of it, squeezing it slowly. The brilliant golds and reds of the sunlight filter brightly through the golden leaves of the Mellryn, and the late summer flowers spread their scent through out the city. Within the weavers talan a few apprentice's work quietly amongst themselves.

Mithsul strolls up the path toward the entrance of the talan, his expression distant and thoughtful. No matter how quiet his face seems, his step is jaunty and has a youthful bounce to it. His dark hair hangs down his back, still tied back, swinging in time with his movements. Just as he was about to pass up the talan itself, he hastily corrects his course to enter, green eyes scanning the interior in search of someone specific.

With a sure hand, Galharth sits near the window of the weavers talan sewing the inseam of a pair of trousers. With his eyes half closed, he hums softly as the needle and thread fuse the fabric pieces together. Soft brown fabric lightly swishes as the movement of the Tailor works.

Looking up as Mithsul enters, he offers a smile. "Well met, my friend. Come, enter so that we might see to your new duty's clothing needs."

"Ah yes, I suppose I will be needing duty clothing." Mithsul speaks, as if in afterthought, as he walks toward the weaving tailor. "I had not even thought about that, such has my mind been wandering." Eyeing the trousers the sentinal settles near the wall trying to avoid blocking the light from Galharth's work. "However, what I was actually speaking of earlier was a more formal attire. Aderthad will be holding a feastday for the wood soon, and I hope to perform there, and it would not do to go as I am."

Turning his attention to his work, the clothier weaves the needle into the fabric to hold his place in his work. "Pehaps a few pair of dark grey trousers? A few soft grey shirts? Maybe white ones? And of course at least two tunics. Standard Order attire." Pausing a moment to fold his current project, Galharth stands.

Moving towards a shelf in the back of the talan, his hand sweeps towards the articles of clothing. "I've a number of items that you can try on for size. Take what you need." Taking a few steps, the crafter stops to stand near the new Sentinel. "Formal attire? Aderthad, you say..... Silver and blue then?"

A soft hmm sound emits from Mithsul's throat, a possible agreement, as he moves toward the indicated clothing. "Yes, I will be but one representing Aderthad, among many others. The feastival will be for the entire wood, not just for our house. Blue and silver would be nice, in some way incorporated into the outfit." Looking back toward Galharth, over his shoulder he adds, "Its still in the planning stages, there is no rush. I know your busy and I did not want to wait too long."

"I'm in the midst of preparing the Guard's clothing, so if you could we can do your formal clothing upon my return from the northern border." Galharth says as he steps back towards the window to look out. Looking over his shoulder he lifts a brow. "Also, Maglind would like you to join his patrol when we do travel north. Will you available? If so, I'm sure he'll get with you soon."

"Of course Galharth, this is why I sought you out early. I hope that when the time comes, you will come out and enjoy the festivities with us." Selecting a couple trousers of a grey hue, along with a couple pristine shirts Mithsul turns around to show his selections to Galharth. "I will make sure I am free for the patrol. I look forward to learning more about it."

"Certainly! I'd be glad to join in all celebrations. The Aderthad's are good patrons." Galharth says. To the Sentinel's words, he nods. "Maglind will fill you in I'm sure. He's a fine Warden, and you'll learn much from him."

Mithsul gives the Tailor a final thank you and a wave as he passes through the talan entrance, back out onto the pathways below.

Pausing to watch the Sentinel leave, Galharth stares at the exit for several long moments before returning to his workspace. Settling into the chair by the window, the clothier resumes work upon the trousers.