================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Late Morning < About 10:24 AM >
IC day is: Oranor <Sun-day>
IC date is: 19 Rhiw <Winter>
Moon phase: Full <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: Sat Sep 08 15:48:14 2007
=====================================================================
The winter sun shines through the leaves, casting a warm friendly glow on the
ground. Thorhur stands on the path right outside the Field Hospital, unmoving.
He has been there for a long time, without moving. His eyes are focused on a
tree straight ahead and he is propped against a large mellyrn, his arms folded.
His mouth is contorted into a frown, and as a rare effect, the hood of his cloak
is up, hiding his features behind the folds of the hood.
Moving slowly, the Tailor Galharth wanders out onto the path, not far from the
Field Hospital. Leaning upon a tree, he takes a deep breath and releases it
slowly. His expression is slightly pained, though he is clearly better than he
has been in past days.
Glancing up from his position against the tree, he spies a cloaked figure.
Peering intently, he frowns slightly as recognition does not come. "Alas, the
cloak does its job. Well met, Guard of Lothlorien." Galharth mutters aloud.
Thorhur lifts his eyes at the sound of an unwelcome familiar voice, but not to
fully face the Clothier, just enough to show that he sees him. With his head
still bowed slightly he says in a low gruff voice,
"I would apologize, but mean words will just be returned."
A brow lifts slightly at the ellon's words, "Perhaps you mistake me for another,
friend." Galharth says softly, "I am Sinda, and speak not the language of the
Silvan."
"I mistake you for nobody," Thorhur says in a softer voice than before, still
unmoving. "My words were to myself, Galharth."
Recognition flickers in the Tailor's eyes, and he shakes his head. "Ah,"
Galharth says as he shifts his position upon the tree. "Then do not let me
disturb you." He says looking away from the cloaked Guard. Glancing now to the
North, he sighs softly to himself.
"Something troubles you," Thorhur comments, standing up straight and moving
towards the Clothier. "I do not take it to be the injuries of Maglind. Perhaps
it is something else? Something that I know has probably been on your mind of
late?"
"As if Maglind's injuries were not enough," Galharth mutters sadly, "There are
others, including myself still healing. Add that to my own lack of skills to
prevent any of it, and I suppose you could say I've got something on my mind."
A sad chuckle comes forth, and the Tailor shakes his head. "All that, and I've
not even thought of my own Guild's needs. Certainly there is a list awaiting me
on that as well."
"You have been busy," Thorhur says in a soft voice. "I don't think you need to
worry about the Gwaith-I-thein. They are understanding and surely will forgive
your absence."
A laugh follows Thorhur's words. "Alas, if it were so easy. No Master, of any
Guild, is forgiven such neglect." Looking away from the north towards the Guard,
he tilts his head slightly. "To make matters worse, such deeds that have occured
on the border has certainly increased to workload of my shop. We all affect
eachother I imagine, in one way or another."
"Yes," Thorhur responds, taking a step closer to Galharth. "I would imagine that
most of the archers are requiring stronger armor since the last attack."
The clothier's face clouds, and he slaps a hand against the tree that now
supports him. "Nay, not the archers, but I assure you that Maglind will receive
proper armor." Galharth's frown deepens, and he glances once towards the Field
Hospital. "Give an ellon duties and responsibilities, he should be granted the
proper protection. Wardens are given Ringmail, and yet Maglind goes without."
"Yes, that is strange...." his voice trails off as he pauses. "I wonder whether
the orcs are still there," he mutters. "That would be strange of them to still
be there..."
"I don't know." Galharth says with a hint of worry as he looks towards the north
once more. "Calsir went to check upon the borders and never returned, but from
the word that has spread, I know she was there and left for the city." Glancing
at Thorhur, he lifts a brow. "Have you heard anything?"
"I have only seen what I saw with Maglind, and I would not advise approaching
the camp without a large guard. They are very good fighters, I must admit,"
Thorhur says his voice louder now. "Even I would not dare shoot from the trees,
for they could easily fire flaming arrows at them. I do not know what business
they have around here, but whatever it is it seems to revolve around Lothlorien."
"It is all beyond me," Galharth says with a frown. "I've learned much and yet
still have much more to learn." Sighing heavily he shrugs his shoulders, and in
doing so he winces at the pain to his back. "Alas, it has become a never ending
cycle which I would be more than pleased to set aside if the vile beasts at our
doorstep would return to their spawning grounds."
"Yes. Well, I must be on my way. Good to see you again Galharth." With that,
Thorhur makes for the path and follows it south out of sight.