================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Early Morning < About 8:37 AM >
IC day is: Oranor <Sun-day>
IC date is: 31 Echuir <Stirring>
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: Sat Oct 06 20:52:30 2007
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Foothills of the Misties - Near Caradhras
Caradhras sparkles high in the Misty Mountains to your west, the rest of the mountains continuing endlessly from the south to the north, their rugged peaks gleaming. To the east the valley levels out slowly, while directly around you the undulating landscape gently regrows from the winter, the sprouting of new growth to be seen all around. There is a path which runs to the north and south, while the ground underneath you is cold and muddy

The day sky still dumps copious amounts of rain down, forming small creeks on the trail. The early morning spring air is humid and biting.

Contents:
Tolur
Maglind
Angroch
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Dark and forboding clouds fill the sky as a cold rain soaks the ground. It is day, but the darkness is much like a lingering dusk. A breeze blows, creating a chill that sinks to the bones. Spring has come, and yet with it an aching dampness. Adding to this gloomy morn, a wolf howls in the distance.

"I hope he stays in his den," Mutters Tolur as he pulls the hood of his grey cloak further down over his brow. Water beads upon the fabric, but with the heaviness of the rain, the Guard's cloak is nearly soaked.

Behind the Warden, another stirs and grumbles. "He wouldn't want to come out in this wet, either." Maglind's pale hair is plastered to his brow, and the damp cloth hangs heavy and dull from his thin shoulders.

From the north comes the dark form of Angroch son of Angbrog. He moves over large grey boulders, fallen long ago from the mountains. The cloak of his hood is down, his hair spiked with the rain. His coat is soaked, and water runs down his face, dripping from his nose. If the water affects him, he does not show it.

He comes to a stop at the camp, glancing back at the mountains, the tops of which are unseen, vanishing into the low, dumping clouds. "Foul as some beasts may be, I have yet to find one who enjoys rain, although rain would not get in the way of a fresh meal."

"One can only hope, Maglind." Tolur mutters while shaking the rain from his cloak. Taking a step, his foot falls into a puddle. "At least this night we can give thanks to waterproof boots." he adds with a chuckle.

Turning to face the secondborn, who looks no different than the firstborn in the weather, Tolur chuckles, "Given that you are definately ripe, I'd say we stand a good chance to draw in a wolf hunting a meal."

Despite the dreary rain and grey sky, the Iron Horse laughs, his eyes the same color of the clouds above. He approaches the firstborn and smiles at him, the corners of his mouth slightly inclinding, "And here I have been on patrol without my cloak so as to accept the rain to wash away the grime of the road. I should not want to offend your nose, Master Tolur."

He laughs and runs his hands down each opposite sleeve, running water off the leather of his coat, though it is in futility, "Alas it has been for naught."

"You offend me not good sir!" Tolur is quick to reply with mischief in his eyes, "But there is indeed a scent about you that would certainly set a wolf to salivation." Turning away, it is clear that his movement is more to disguise a chuckle than to look at anything in particular.

"Perhaps you can rub against a tree, or roll upon the ground, so that you might take upon the scents of nature." Lifting a hand to cover his mouth whilst he coughs, the cough sounds more like a struggle to maintain an even speech. "Or we can all take our chances."

Shaking his head, Angroch sits upon a boulder, crossing his ankles and taking from his belt a small leather flask. He uncorks it and takes a swig of its contents. Wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, he offers the flask towards Tolur. "The smell of nature is upon me enough, though to the sensitive nose of a Guard of Lorien, I should say I cannot hide."

At the elf's laughter, the ranger laughs as well, "But, my friend, mayhap I take your words as compliment, for a wolf may well have very good taste in choosing meals, though I dare say if one chooses an Iron Horse, he may find his teeth in much the worse for wear."

Lifting a hand, Tolur waves off the offer of drink, "Thank you no," he mutters as he once more shakes the moisture from his cloak. "Perhaps we are more sensitive because we have so few visitors. I can not say for sure." The warden says as he peers at the second born.

"You should take no insult from me, mellon for none would ever be intended." the Guard says with sincerity. "I think highly of your people, and our relationship is long. He grins now, and his eyes twinkle from under his hood, "But should a wolf come, I'm sure you'll be the first taste it takes."

Lifting a hand, Tolur waves off the offer of drink, "Thank you no," he mutters as he once more shakes the moisture from his cloak. "Perhaps we are more sensitive because we have so few visitors. I can not say for sure." The warden says as he peers at the second born.

"You should take no insult from me, mellon for none would ever be intended." the Guard says with sincerity. "I think highly of your people, and our relationship is long. He grins now, and his eyes twinkle from under his hood, "But should a wolf come, I'm sure you'll be the first taste it takes."

Shrugging at Tolur's decline of the draught, the Iron Horse takes another short pull from the flask, caps it, and ties it back to his belt. He chuckles, "I have no doubt the fell beast would set upon my flesh, for it is well known in lands outside fair Lorien that manflesh is much more easy on the digestion of evil beings than the firstborn." A sidelong glance to the Guard, "Pray, is that why I was invited on this trip, as decoy for hungry wolf?" He laughs again, mirth obvious and inhibited only in its volume, for even in pouring rain, sound may travel to ears unwelcomed.

Indeed, the rain still pours, and Angroch sits, smiling for a moment, then, "And I take no offense, for truly this trip has brought the reward of friendship. Many in your land have been kind to me and mine, and I am grateful. Though our time together this mission grows short, if ever my assistance is needed in Lorien again, ye may count on it."

Furrowing his brow as the second born speaks, Tolur's expression of teasing faulters. "I offered up humor, perhaps ill colored humor, but I speak the truth when I say I knew not what the foul beasts thought of a comparison to first and second born flesh." A moment passes, and perhaps a breath is held before another sound is uttered. "Is this what the beasts that serve evil think? Truely?"

"You speak as if you plan to leave soon. Is this so?" The Guard asks in a soft tone that still rings of concern for what was last spoken.

The steel eyes of the ranger come to the guard, "I jest in kind, Sir," he says, voice low, still with a hint of mirth. "I dare not say which is tastier to beasts! A few have tasted mine in the past, but did not live much longer."

To the second statement, Angroch nods slightly, clear, cool water droplets dripping from his soaked locks. Still, he makes no effort to cover himself with his cloak, content to accept the rain as it is: "Aye, though I should be content to stay within Lorien for many more winters to be drenched again in the gold of the mellyrn, I must continue south, as I need to attend to business elsewhere, now your borders appear safe."

"Nay, I've had no special thoughts, but as you might know I spend much time here." Galharth says as he peers around at the familiar garden. "This place inspires healing of both the body and the soul." A deep breath and a slow release of that breath silences the Tailor for several long moments. When he turns his attention to the Courier, he smiles. "I was wondering about something related to the Royal Court. Both you and I are due for a mission that will take us to a kindreds realm. If given the choice, where would you go? Amon Thraundil or Imladhrim?"

Chuckling softly, the Guard shakes his head. "You fell for my jesting, and I fell for yours. It seems we're alike in many ways." Tolur says with a grin. "Perhaps instead of concentrating on a means to laugh, I should br looking for a means to keep us safe." Shrugging, which causes the water on his cloak to ripple downwards, the Warden steps forward. "With that said, it's time for me to complete a round."

Pausing to consider the last of the Rangers words, the smile turns to a frown. "It would be good for you to stay a while, but as you can't, I have to say that I'll miss you while you are gone." With that, the firstborn steps away to complete the morning rounds.