================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Nighttime < About 5:35 AM >
IC date is: 40 Laer <Summer>
Moon phase: First Quarter <VISIBLE>
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: Thu Nov 09 17:37:10 2006
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Aderthad Treetop Platform
At the top of the ladder is a circular flet to which the various personal and familial telain of Aderthad house members are connected. Nearby, delicate lanterns hang, suspended from the branches of the majestic mallorn. Night has come to the Golden Wood, and from here one can see the magnificent forest of Lothlorien cast in a soft silver glow by the stars shining down from the heavens above.

Contents:
Galharth
Curulomion
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It is right at dawn...when no one in their right mind would be out and about. The stately mallorn that houses the Aderthad tree is mostly dark...most of the houses lower down and clustered near to each other. But there is one talan that is all on its own, fairly high up and remote. A soft blue light flickers at one of the windows but the whole appearance is ghostly and eerie, the talan brooding and dark and ominous. It could belong to only one...Curulomion, popularly known as Mornedhel.

Traveling early, a silver haired ellon makes his way through the maze of the Aderthad talon. Blue fabric of his tunic dances as a cloud around his ankles as he moves. Pausing with uncertainty several times, Galharth finally finds the desired platform. Tapping gently upon the wood, he calls out softly. "Curulomion?" As he awaits an answer, the ellon grasps a measuring tape that hangs around his neck.

Curulomion is not long in answering the door, revealing that his talan is lit with blue light...candelabras glittering behind panes of blue cobalt glass for a silvery-blue effect. But it makes Curulomion's hands look bloodless white as they pull open the door. Inside can be seen a double row of bookshelves of dark wood with an aisle between them, eight great display cases of jewelry of all shapes, sizes and kinds...the gems glitter coldly in the torchlight...and the elliptical table that stands in the middle of the room...four cases behind it and four cases before it. At one end rests a tall, well-padded rocking chair of dark wood and at the other a comfortable armchair. But Curulomion steps aside, letting Galharth come in. "Welcome to my home. You will have to forgive me being a bad host...I so rarely am called upon to fill that role. But have a seat, have a seat...and we can finish up the business we started those few weeks ago."

Nodding silently, in respect for the hour, the Clothier enters the talan. Pausing a few steps inside, Galharth glances around before taking a few more stepps. Turning towards the Jewelsmith, he smiles. "I've need of measurements and a sword. While one does not need the other, it seems fitting that they be exchanged this day."

Drawing the measuring tape from around his nect, the ellon snaps it lightly before him. "Which would you like to start with? The sword, or the measurements?"

Curulomion considers. "Let us see your sword first, and see if you approve of my work. I would be careful in handling it...I made sure it was very very sharp indeed." Galharth's sword is resting on the table, wrapped in dark cloth, and with a nod the jewelsmith indicates it. The blade is now highly polished, blindingly so even in the soft blue-silver light and on it is the requested ivy design, done in a very fine hand and lightly twisting its way down the right hand side of the blade. It does not cross the fuller for to use etching acid too close to the fuller would be to weaken the blade. The hilt has also been reforged as per specifications...and done with an elegance and grace that only a jewelsmith could produce easily. It is flawless, if imbalanced, and fair indeed for the eye to look upon.

Stepping closer to the table, the Clothier circles the sword, eyeing the polished metal with a critical eye. Several moments pass, as icy blue eyes follow the etching along the entire length. "It's beautiful," Galharth finally says. As he looks up from the blade, he smiles, offering a warm expression that clearly displays approval. "It's as if a different sword now sits before me."

Reaching out a hand, a single finger caresses the hilt of the sword. "Thank you..." he says. Drawing his hands towards the ends of the measuring tape, he draws the length before him. "Now for the measurements." Lifting a brow, he eyes the Jewelsmith expectantly. "Pick a spot and I shall get what I need."

Curulomion 's answer to that is to sit in his rocking chair and rock slowly back and forth. "All right," he answers in his usual grim tones, "And I am glad your sword pleases you...I was very careful since I usually do not work with weapons." Then he slaps his forehead with the heel of his hand. "I am indeed a bad host. I should have offered you wine and I have some fine vintage caranyulda here. Perhaps after the measuring is done we can have a few glasses."

'That makes two of us," Galharth says as he rounds the table, "not working with weapons, I mean." Sweeping a hand before the rocking chair, he offers a teasing smile. "I'll take your measurements, but only if you'll be kind enough to stand." Narrowing his eyes, as if in consideration, the Clothier nods. "I'll hold you to wine once we have the measurements." he adds agreeably.

Curulomion rises fluidly and holds still, arms at his sides. "Measurements it shall be," he says. "I have not been measured in some time and things fit a bit more loosely than they once did. But probably because at the time I was measured I was somewhat out of condition and heavier than I am now. But come...I do not bite and while I am unused to the process I will bear it. It is better than trying to start a forge-fire that some wayward apprentice let go cold when you are in a hurry to complete a work."

"While we might want things to remain unchanged, measurements do not heed our wishes." Galharth says with a knowing smile. Approaching with his measuring tape forward, he places the end first upon Curulomion's shoulder, measuring to the ellons wrist. Glancing at the marks upon the tape, the Clothier moves around and takes another measure from the base of the Jewelsmiths neck to the small of his back. Then taking a quick measure of the ellon's neck, he finally speaks. "Can you please lift your arms and hold them out."

Taking a half step back, the silver haired ellon awaits Curulomion's compliance.

Curulomion stands quietly, bearing all this in...seemingly...good humour. Or at least in silence. He does lift his arms as asked so that his waist might be measured and the measurement might be a bit of a surprise...the jewelsmith is spare of flesh indeed. Any leaner and bones would be starting to show through. Despite his lack of flesh Curulomion is in no way weakened...just just means there is muscle and bone only, no flesh to give padding. Spare in his tastes is Curulomion and spare of body is he as well.

Long arms reach round the Jewelsmith, taking measure of first the chest, then the waist, and finally the hip."A slender form," Galharth comments, clearly expecting no response. Dropping to one knee, the final measure is taken. Placing the end of the measure at Curulomion's hip. the Clothier measures to the ankle.

"There..." he comments as he rises to his feet. "The last of the measurements are taken, and I've enough to work with." Smiling he adds, "Now, about the wine..."

Curulomion drops his arms and then nods, gesturing to the armchair across from the rocking chair. "If you will be seated," he says with a dip of his head. Then he vanishes behind the black curtain that divides the sleeping chamber from the living one. Back he comes in just a few moments with bottle and two fluted silver goblets set with sapphires and diamonds. "My own forging," he explains as he pours the wine and hands one goblet to Galharth before taking the other to his side of the table and sitting down in his rocking chair. The jewelsmith sips his wine. "Slender?" he queries. "My slenderness worries Elnara a good deal. But there is nothing I can do about it. This is all there is to me and I must take care to stay in condition. I take more care now than I once did since Elnara goes nigh into a frenzy if I grow to be what she thinks is too lean." He stretches his long legs out beneath the table. "Atto's side of the family has always been tall and of slender build. I take after Atto's side of the family though I am a little taller than he was, closer to my grandsire in height. Or so Atto always told me...my grandparents sailed before I was born."


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