================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Midnight < About 12:03 AM >
IC day is: Orbelain <Valar-day>
IC date is: 11 Firith <Fading>
Moon phase: Waxing Gibbous <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 Aug 16 17:01:16 2007
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Rose Garden
You stand in a small rose garden dazzled in white, red, and yellow. Placed in an circular pattern about the garden, a walkway made up of small, uplifted ceramic tiles form rings of walking space surrounding a large golden mallorn planted in the center. Shade from its limbs splay outward over this walkspace to provide for a pleasant atmosphere. Here and there, benches, one with a lamp rising up out of the ground next to it, are placed for guests to enjoy the shade and the scenery.

To the south, a tall hedge hides the entrance to the shaded lawn. East, among a gnarly set of old oak trees, a small path leads to the Apothecary, while to the North another path leads to the Northern Gardens. To the West, a gate leads out to the Golden Roadway. Lastly, to the side, sparkling beneath a silver arch, a set of stairs can be seen leading to a talan up above. Shown by the starlight, twinkling down from the sky, all is quiet in the Garden.

Contents:
Galharth
Tauriel
Maglind
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Tauriel ,calm and quiet as always, slowly steps into the rose garden. Hands folded before her, she carefully steps foward with bare muddied feet. The lower portion of her gown is muddied as well. Seemingly on a contemplative stroll, she only pauses for a moment to glance at the others within the garden. Offering a polite smile too all who may catch her gaze...

In the midnight hour, the Tailor Galharth glances up from his resting spot within the Rose Garden. A bandage remains upon his leg, though his color and appearance of health improves. Though darkness comsumes the night, the light of the stars shines brightly, providing the light needed for the first born to see. "Well met, mellon," Galharth calls out. A soft wind blows from the north, and the clothier inhales deeply, savoring the sweet night air.

And here too is Maglind, sitting in a tall straight-backed chair fitted into a rosebush. A beautifully carved harp is here, wrought cunningly with golden elven-hairs for strings, and he plays upon it, the faint strains sounding throughout the garden.

Tauriel 's head slowly turns to Galharth's greeting. Offering another polite smile she slowly works her way towards him. Eyeing the ground as her dirty bare feet search for soft ground. "Why hello Galharth.. " she responds calmly upon reaching Galharth, she offers him warm smile. Hands still folded before her she gazes thoughtfully on the ellon.

Sweeping a hand towards a nearby bench, the clothier offers the lady a seat. "Please join us." Galharth says softly. Offering a smile, he turns to look towards Maglind. "The good Warden here provides a lovely tune that seems to suit the evening well. Music such as his is always more enjoyable with company.."

"Indeed," says Maglind quietly, weaving in the words with the faint music. It is a song of night, of moonlight and leaf-shadow, and it floats up into the air and is lost. "What brings you here?"

Tauriel nods and with calm grace sits herself on the branch. Her Eyes pass slowly from Galharth to Maglind. Hands resting on her lap, she reaches and flicks some loose hair behind her damaged ear. It however falls loose almost immideately.. "Just enjoying the fine evening.. " she says in a soft tone

Absently, the Clothier's hand falls to the bandage at his leg and he begins to scratch persistently. "Winter comes to the lands around Lorien, yet with it we're blessed with cool crisp air and uncomparable beauty." He smiles when he looks upon Tauriel, "Add Maglind's good music, and there is much to enjoy."

Taking a deep breath, he half closes his eyes, "Are you a Bard Tauriel? Does the evening bring forth songs or prose?"

The warden-turned-bard does not add his voice to the conversation. Instead, he continues to caress the strings, bringing forth thought in melody. Crisp air, and winter chill, and in the outside world ... no, he pulls his fingers back. He will not go there.

Still scratching his leg, the clothier's hand slips under the crisp white bandage to scratch at flesh. Glancing towards the lady's muddied feet, he smiles. "It won't be much longer till you'll need to wear your slippers."

"Don't scratch, Galharth," chides Maglind gently. "You'll pull it open and then they will have to do embroidery on you again."

A wink, and then the warden goes back to his harping, wrapped in his own shadowed thoughts.

Tauriel continues to look to her wiggling toes.. "It is a definate shame no doubt.." she responds brightly, her gaze turning back to Galharth. Her head tilts thoughtfully on the man, her elaborate hair falling loose from her broken ear.. "You are injured it seems." she comments with a slight comferting smile. "How did this transpire.."

Chuckling softly, the Tailor withdraws his hand from his leg. "As long as the design is well planned Maglind, it would be a a lovely addition." Drawing his hands together, he rubs them lightly. Turning towards the lady he shrugs. "A few of us received injuries of late. I and three others to a troll, and I heard tell of another to a Warg." Nodding towards Maglind, he adds, "From the words of the Guards, the borders grow dangerous of late."

Tauriel 's brow furrows slightly. Her arms cross tightly at this news. "That is turely disheartining news.." she comments sincerely, "Has it been ascertained why this is happining?"

"Aye," confirms Maglind. "An ... object of ours is left upon the foothills, and they smell Elf upon it. They lie there in wait, and give us harsh words and wounds." The strumming stops, punctuated by a soft glance to Galharth and the elleth.

"Two attempts to recover the object has already been made," Galharth says with a heavy sigh, "And twice it's failed. This latest attempt has resulted in four injured." Glancing towards the Warden he frowns. "We'll have to go again soon, or the beasts will continue to lurk around our home."

Tauriel With a flick of her wrist, Tauriel slides some hair behind her infeebled ear. A hint of annoyance can be seen on her face with this action. "An object?" she askes softly, looking on both ellon.

You paged Mithsul with 'The one thing that I always objected to with Aderthad is that they worked to put house members in key areas of each guild. If you look back on it. The crafters, healers, Order, and Bards all were top heavy with Aderthads. When the house fell, it took all the guilds with them. The break up of Aderthad killed this culture.'.

"A catapult of sorts." Maglind studies the elleth carefully, focusing on the ear. "If you would like, Tauriel, I could give you a hair-comb. I know an excellent jewelsmith."

"Parts of a Catapult actually," Galharth adds, "As I've said, we've made previous attempts to retrieve it. On the first attempt we managed to retrieve half."

Glancing from the lady to the Warden, the clothier nods. "We've a number of crafters that might be able to fashion a comb. Perhaps once I'm moble we can make arrangements to have one made."

Tauriel raises her hand to up to her hair.... "It merely fell loose... It does not look so bad, does it?" she askes softly, fingers probing the area..

"Tailor! You are long past your time to return to the Healing Talan." An Attendant says firmly as she approaches the gathering. Flanked by two others, she nods to all politely before turning to face Galharth. "If you wish to heal properly, you'll need to go to bed."

The crafters nods, though his expression is one of frustration. "It seems it's my bed time." He mutters as the healers aid him to his feet and begin to lead him away towards a lift that will take him into the Healing Talan.

Blushing faintly, Maglind shakes his head and turns back to the harp. "It is not so bad ... but I have heard that ellith are fond of combs. That is all." He looks up as the crafter is lifted away. "Good even, Galharth."