================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Dusk < About 7:46 PM >
IC day is: Orgilion <Stars-day>
IC date is: 6 Echuir <Stirring>
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: Fri Sep 28 16:35:38 2007
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Galadhrim Camp
You find yourself among a party of traveling elves. Gray tents are scattered about, camouflaged and hidden discreetly among the tree branches. All is quiet, and yet all seems busy, as the Quendi go about their daily camp routines with a dreamlike quality. Some tend to the food, while others tend to the tents and other gear. The camp has no quality of permanence about it, as it has noticably moved further on its journey each day.

Contents:
Tolur (Temped by Galharth)
Thorhur
Maglind
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Anor has begun his descent in the West, the last rays tinging the horizon with beautiful hues of red, yellow, and orange. The sky is cloudless and the frozen layer of snow on the ground is colored orange by the setting sun. The earth is clearly still in the grasp of winter, for a chill wind blows from the Northwest, rustling the dead trees that scatter this vale.

The snow crunches underfoot as a lone figure stands on the edge of the Elf camp, his longbow at his side, his eyes unmoving focused on the western horizon. His cheeks are flushed by the chilled wind and in addition to his forest green cloak a gray cloak hangs from his shoulders to protect him from the cold. Finding a nearby rock he sits down and remains silent.

Fire in the sky above: below, the camp is cold and dark. Maglind will not risk a fire here. He sits at the opening of his grey tent, nestled in a blanket and cloak. A map sits spread in front of him, held down by stones; a burnt twig hovers in his hand, dotting a line over the parchment.

Thorhur, his gaze unmoving, shifts slightly at the presence of Tolur and whispers back, "I do not believe they will risk losing more of their troops for the sake of three firstborns and one Ranger. Plus, we are trying to go unnoticed through these lands, so I think Maglind will do all in his power to prevent us from being detected. However, should the need arise, we are trained in the bow and then we can only pray to Manwe that they too are not skilled with the bow." the Sentinel's gaze now turns to face Tolur, his eyes sparkle in the light of the fading sun. "I don't think we should worry."

"It is not only Maglind that will be putting forth such effort." Tolur says softly as his eyes scan the horizon. "The sense we use is not the same used by the Uruk. They often times choose their actions for what seems to be senseless acts of showing off." Turning, the Warden eyes Thorhur, but says nothing more.

"And if they show off more, we shall learn more," calls out Maglind, eyes fixed on the paper. "But we must be prepared to display our skills as well, if needed. Is your quiver full, Thorhur, Tolur?"

Thorhur turns towards the camp and replies in a voice as loud as he dares to speak, "Indeed Maglind, I have plenty, although I must say they would look much better sticking out of the body of a yrch than laying in my quiver." he grins as he says this and shifts his longbow on the other side of him.

"Full, and ready, but still hesitant. Commander Legarwin wished us to avoid contact, and it is my hope to comply." Tolur says with a smile first to Maglind and then to Thorhur. Returning his gaze to Maglind, he lifts a brow. "Where will we begin our search, Warden?"

Tossing the stick aside, Maglind shrugs. "We wander north. The land there has few landmarks, and we shall look for them. There is little place to hide." He glances at the far-off Thorhur, and beckons to come closer. "If you saw them now, Thorhur ... what would you do?"

Thorhur comes a bit closer to the camp and then looks to Maglind. "I suppose if they were without archers I would simply stand and shoot at them, but if indeed there were archers with them I would perhaps try to avoid being in plain view, although I do not fear death, I do not wish to die with an arrow from a foul yrch archer," the Sentinel says quietly, squatting on the ground. The sky is becoming dark and Thorhur shivers slightly, pulling his cloak around him tighter.

"Death? It is more the endless years of waiting in the Halls of Mados that I fear," Tolur says. "I envision utter boredom to the end of days, so on that, I agree with Thorhur, I'd not like to end this form by the point of an Uruk's arrow."

Looking to the north, he tilts his head as he peers along the path that looks like it might lead up the mountain. "There seems to be a trail," he says suddenly pointing off to the north.

"Yes, and yes," says Maglind in response. "We will be unseen, as if invisible, and follow them. Is that trail fresh?" he asks, throwing back his cloak and blankets. "It might have been used for a long time, but it will be easier if we can find tracks."

Thorhur stands immediately at the mention of a trail and comes to stand next to Tolur. Eagerly he turns to the Warden and asks in a soft voice, "Shall I go on ahead and see what lies beyond? We may just find our little yrch friends at the end of it, although if we were to find them they would have the advantage, for they do fight better in darkness. What do you recommend Tolur? Shall I follow it?"

"Nay, we follow Maglind's direction." Tolur says quickly, "If they are to be found, let them be found when we're a solid group. Anything less and we face a potential threat."

A smile rises upon his face as the Warden turns towards the Sentinel. "We should always fight from cover, as it keeps the advantage with us. We hold no disadvantage either night or day, but we hold an advantage in the day. Should Maglind ask my advice, I'd say let us search for them during the time when Anor graces the sky......"

"Indeed Warden," Thorhur replies warmly to Tolur before turning back to the camp. "Well, I have kept watch already this day, and now I think I am going to turn in for a while, however I may come to relieve the next watch some time during the night." Waving to Tolur, Thorhur heads for the camp, enters the tent, and is lost from the sight of the oncoming night.

"They do fear the light," says Maglind, flicking a finger at the map. "But often the moon overlooks what the sun may not. Perhaps the night will be our friend, too."

The warden turns to Tolur. "What now, friend? Do you take the watch, or do I?"

"Either or, it matters not who takes the watch." Tolur says with a smile. "If you take it, then I'd be glad to keep you company." Looking again to the north, he lifts a hand and points. "We should head along that path, if only to inspect the trail."

"Then come with me." Maglind rolls up the paper and sticks it into his belt. "Perhaps tomorrow morning will let us inspect further, but I do not wish to go too far. We'll stand watch."

He takes his longsword along, as an afterthought.

"Both bow and sword, and we're ready for action," Tolur says as he follows suit in tucking his weapons neatly upon his person.

"Both bow and sword, and we're ready for action," Tolur says as he follows suit in tucking his weapons neatly upon his person. Drawing his cloak up over his shoulders, he offers a grin before pulling his hood up over his head to conceal his features. "T'is amazing how the Uruk make their paths and worry not to cover them. It will certainly make our job easier."

"They do not worry because they have confidence in their numbers," murmurs Maglind, buckling scabbard to belt. "Or they think we are too foolish to leave them alone." He grins at Tolur. "Or, they are too dull."

"I would think confidence." Tolur says with no small amount of disgust in his tone. "That seems their mode of operations in the past weeks." Shaking his hooded head, only the cloth registers the movement of his form. "The chest thumping and the strange songs they sing while marching back and forth under our talans says as much."

"They boast of fire." Maglind steps carefully over the icy ground. "But while our archers are alive, I do not think they will succeed. How long has it been since they first came? Months?"

"First came?" Tolur says pausing his step. Looking to Maglind, he tilts his head. "Have they ever really left? It's been years, and still they come." A deep breath is taken, and the Warden shakes his head. "For every one we kill, two return in their place. They've boasted fire how many times? In the past weeks on the north, and years past in this place." Shaking his head, he takes another step to follow the other.

The other warden sighs, lifting his head to see the sky. "Then we will try to prevent them from coming back. Though I fear it is like trying to keep the sun from rising."

"It's not that bad. They come, we set them back." The Warden says with a chuckle. "If we're to repeat history, and it seems we have a way of doing just that, then we'll certainly win in the end."

Waving forth his hand towards the distance trail he laughs, "If you don't move forward, then we'll not even get the chance to investigate the trail. Shall I lead the way?"

"Go on, Warden," says Maglind, waving a hand absently at the trail. "I will follow. Perhaps we'll find a whole company of orcs beating their chests at the trees."

A soft laugh emits from Tolur's lips as he sets off towards the trail at a jog. "Perhaps we'll find them hanging upside down as possums and we can pluck them from the trees with our arrows." Continuing at his pace, the Guard moves silent atop the harden snow.

Just as amusement seems to set his mood, he falls silent and drops to one knee to inspect the trail. "They went up," he says looking up from the trail, ".....and then returned. They've gone northeast."

Maglind purses his lips in concentration, stooping to peer at the ground. "Northeast? But that would lead to the river. Or," and a new thought crosses his mind, "could they be from the Mirkwood?"

"I don't know," Tolur says as his follows the trail with his gaze. "It seems they tried to move atop their wargs upwards along the pass, but they were turned back....." he says pointing towards the inicators on the trail. Carefully inspecting the prints, he shakes his head. "Nay, these were uruk we commonly see."

"Odd," the younger warden says, "I thought the weather was not so bad that they had to turn back."

Maglind steps away, covering a track he has made. "Come, Tolur, let's not go so far. We're watching the camp, after all. Perhaps we can go farther in the morning."

"Aye, you're right." Tolur agrees as he rises up to his feet. Glancing at the prints, the Warden frowns. "Perhaps I will leave you to the watch. Perhaps it'd be best for me to do a little work sharpening my longsword." With that the Warden makes his way back to the camp and quickly disappears into a tent.

"Be well, Tolur," Maglind says with a friendly wave, but when he turns back to the setting sun his fair face is marked with worry.

The night goes on.