================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Nighttime < About 10:41 PM >
IC day is: Orgaladhad <Trees-day>
IC date is: 39 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: Tue Oct 09 09:33:44 2007
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Wood Shop

Many workbenches with drawers and cubbies full of hand tools fill this large room. Along the back wall are shelves with pieces of different types and sizes of wood - the raw materials for the work done here. To the left are bins full of thin rods of oak and thicker branches of yew. A broad table nearby displays the resulting arrows and bows in various stages of completion. To right, up a small stair that somewhat separates it from the rest of the room, is the work space of the instrument makers. Their delicate tools, as wells as partially completed instruments, can be seen on the benches and tables there.

Contents:
Galharth
Pelliwen
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A tranquil sky rests over the Golden Wood. A deep black sky dotted with sparkling stars gives all who gaze upon it a sense of peace. The wind is still this night, and the songs sung by the Bards have lessened to gentle background sounds that mingle beautifully with the nocturnal chatter of night animals and birds.

In the Wood shop, the Tailor Galharth sits at a bench. Leaning against the bench is is staff, and upon the bench rests a silvery branch. Clearly he is waiting for someone.

Stepping out from the stillness of the night, Pelliwen arrives in the wood shop. Pausing at the entrance, her green eyes dart about the room's interiour before committing herself to entry. Her heavy brown cloak hangs open from her shoulders, allowing the worn old flute clasped in her hands to be seen. With one foot placed deeper in the room, the silvan's scan of the room comes to a abrupt halt on Galharth sitting at a bench deep within. She looks at him thoughtfully, but does not move forward. In fact, upon sight of him, she looks as though she is suddenly ready to leave.

Either sound or a sense of something different causes Galharth to turn. His face, a reflection of expectation, faulters slightly upon catching sight of the young elleth. The expression change is, however, slight, as he does offer Pelliwen as smile. "Well met, Pelliwen. How are you this eve?"

The Tailor's eyes drift to the flute held within her hand and he lifts a hand to becon her into the shop. "I'm sure a Carpenter will be along soon if you'd like to stay.

The elleth's eyes flash briefly around the shop while her hands fidgit with the instrument clasped in her hands. "I'm fine.." she replys quickly, her voice cracks, obvoiusly she has not spoken in some time. "I did not think anyone would be here at this time...". One step is taken toward Galharth. For a long time people have known Pelliwen to be difficult hard to converse with, it's really quite a shame. For when she was a child she was quite opposite.

"Had I not found this lovely branch, the shop would be empty," Galharth says as he turns to look upon the silvery wood of the branch. "I found this while out exercising my leg." A hand migrates to rest upon his leg, absently. "It doesn't look like much, but there is something about it that inspires a new staff."

Glancing back to Pelliwen, "Sometimes the most common things inspire greatness." The Tailor smiles warmly, "Was it that way with the wood from which you carved that flute?"

"Not really no..." she replys, her green eyes looking over the silvery wood. "The wood that made this seemed the right size..". Speaking at almost a whisper the young silvan still stands half way across the room, as always, clutching her flute close. "I found it in the river.. Floating downstream."

"Well certainly there was something that inspired you to pluck it from the water." Galharth says with a thoughtful tilt of his head. "Or perhaps something special was happening in your life at the moment is floated by. Could that be it?"

"I suppose..." she replys at a whisper, her eyes falling downward. In an attempt to calm herself, the elleth reaches up and runs her hand over to top of her head. Smoothing her already smooth auburn hair, which is brushed straight back. "Have I disturbed you?" she askes, her hands re-clasping her flute. "I can leave, if you were waiting for someone.".

"Certainly not!" Galharth protests in response to the concern about being disturbed. "I'd be glad for the company." Chuckling softly, the Tailor turns and picks up the branch. "I brought this here and thought to discuss the commissioning of another staff, for certainly one made of the wood of the Mellyrn would be lovely. But...." he says pausing as he places one end of the branch upon the ground, ".... but when I got here I found that I needed a moment or two to rest my leg."

"Perhaps you can fill the time by telling me about your finding of the wood." He suggests.

Taking a few slow steps forward, the young silvan finds herself standing directly beside the bench opposite Galharth. Still fidgiting with her flute in one hand, she reaches down and runs her hand along the back of her cloak as she sits down softly. A few moments pass, before her green eyes raise from the table top to meet the ellon's gaze. Another few moments pass before she speaks. "When I turned forty I made it..." she says with a warm smile that lasts but an instant. Reaching out, she carefully places the flute on the table and re-clasps her hands at her chest. The flute is rather crude. Beyond being incredably worn, so worn that it is absolutely smooth, it is not even carved straight. The holes are uneven, and the wood itself is imperfect. This has alot to do with the unique tone it creates. A familiar sound to any who know Pelliwen. Hollow, dull and always faltering in and out of key. Only her expert playing somehow makes it worth listening too.. "When I first built it... I did not remove the bark..." the silvan adds with a smile.

A smile of understanding takes hold of the ellon's lips, and clearly from his expression he seems interested with what she has to say. "Experiences from childhood shape us. Do you think the carving of this flute does so for you?" Pausing to glance at the flute, he chuckles softly. "I imagine the bark made playing difficult. Yet...." he says, turning to look into the elleth's eyes, "I still wonder what inspired its construction."

"It plays much better now without it..." she replys softly, her hands rubbing nerviously together. Her eyes dart downward, when the ellon looks into them. "I've been playing it so long, my heart weeps at the thought that it's sound may live only as a memery someday.". With a breath, the elleth's head tilts thoughtfully on the instrument resting before here. "Many hours I spent watching my father construct an instrument of his own, I made this one while I watched.."

"Ah, then your father was an Instrument Maker? A very noble profession." Galharth comments as he leans back in the chair and begins to rub his leg. "Or perhaps it was a hobby? There are many of our kind that learn skills and never actually go beyond the steps to make something for themself." The Tailor's smile warms as he looks at the elleth, "But it does seem you have a touching memory of your father." Pausing to stretch his leg, he continues to watch Pelliwen, "Does he still live within the wood?"

"Yes" she replies simply, as her hands rub together. "It is a hobby of this. Around the naith he often sits and plays. He claims that is where his instrument sounds best... A true silvan he is, rarely does he leave the wood.". The young elleth's attention is suddenly captured by Galharth's streching leg. "Is something the matter with your leg?"

"Yes" she replies simply, as her hands rub together. "It is a hobby of his. Around the naith he often sits and plays. He claims that is where his instrument sounds best... A true silvan he is, rarely does he leave the wood.". The young elleth's attention is suddenly captured by Galharth's streching leg. "Is something the matter with your leg?"

Chuckling at Pelliwen's description of her father, the Tailor shakes his head. "Indeed, it sounds as if he represent the Silvan's well. Yours are a creative people who are always a joy to be around." At the mention of his leg, Galharth stops rubbing. "Oh, it aches from time to time if I overdo it, and clearly I have done so this day."

Pelliwen cannot help but smile at the praise offered from the master tailor. "My father says there used to be alot more of us, before I was born." she comments softly, her eyes still on the ellon's leg. "Why is it sore, that should not happen. Did you fall?"

"There was a time, well before the evil that silvans and Sindar held greater numbers." Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, the Tailor seems to grow distant in thought. Falling silent for a moment, then suddenly lifts his head and focuses upon Pelliwen. "I've heard it said that the age of man is coming, and as such our numbers will continue to fade." The corner of his mouth rises slightly, "But then, many of us will not go until we're dragged of kicking and screaming."

"And my leg? Alas, this is from the wound received whilst I was a captive of the vile beasts that now send our peoples fleeing to distant shores." Glancing at the elleth he frowns. "Had you not heard what happened?"

The young silvan's eyes look on the table top as Galharth speaks, her hands still rubbing together. The expression she wears saddening slightly as he lays out the state of things. "It always seems a shame to think that I'll never see us elves in all there glory.. Having been born to late.." she comments softly, with a quick glance to Galharth.. "I'm sorry you where captured. I don't want to talk about that.."

"It's not a topic I enjoy that much either, so I think we can easily agree not to speak about my misfortune." Galharth says with a nod. Then for a moment, he seems to consider the elleth's word. "It is said that all that we cherished still lingers upon a distant shore, and that the few who struggle to maintain a handhold here do so more with a sense to preserve." The Tailor chuckles softly, "We can have what we want if we were to sail, and yet we linger here stubbornly unwilling to give up what once was."

"I would have liked to seen Lothlorien when it was not in decline." she adds, her clasped hands finally falling to her lap as she grow more comfertable. "My I ask.. Have you seen Imladris?"

"I would have liked to seen Lothlorien when it was not in decline." she adds, her clasped hands finally falling to her lap as she grows more comfertable. "May I ask.. Have you seen Imladris?". Changing the subject somewhat, the young silvan finally raises her eyes from the table and give Galharth her full attention, seemingly quite interested in his response.

Lifting a brow, the Tailor takes on a look of surprise. "Lorien as you see it is as it was, save that there are less people now than before. The Lady's power is said to stop time itself, and from my view, it has. Is it that you would wish to see more people, or do you imagine our home to be something different in the time of old?"

"And Nay, I've never been to Imladhrim. I do know something about it, but little more than facts and figures." Galharth says as he absently resumes rubbing the ache in his leg. "I've suggested to Lostiriel that we go there, if only to see news first hand. So far, nothing has come of that thought."

Nodding along to the tailor's comments. "I'm not sure what I think. Although I hear many speak fondly of the past, so much so, I often wonder what I have missed.". With a slight smile, Pelliwen continues at a near whisper. "Do you think I could ever see Imladhrim?.". The young silvan's eyes return to the table, as she awaits the response she expects..

"The older you get, the sweeter past days appear, the same will happen with you Pelliwen." Galharth says firmly, "Do not let yourself be caught up in the memories and longings of others for you might miss something of your own to savor." Lifting the silver branch and replacing it on the workbench, he offers a sideways glance to the young elleth. "Our Bards, Guards, and Court folk often travel to the Northern Realm of our kindred. Sometimes even we crafters travel to these parts. Perhaps you will go if you dedicate yourself to one of those professions."

The elleths brow furrows slightly. "It could be a great long while, before I have skills that are great enough to warrent a trip to Imladhrim.". Growing silent for a moment, Pelliwen conciders her thoughts. It is a rare day that she speaks to anyone, let alone get into a subject with any depth. Her expression seems to show that she realises what she asks is not possable, but she hopes Galharth will surprise her. "If they have not left already, I thought mabye I could go there with those human rangers when they leave. They ought to get me there safe."

"Why do you say that? Apprentices, Learners, and all others in training often travel. In fact it is encouraged as it is a wonderful way to learn." Galharth says in surprise. "Rangers?" He asks, turning in the discussion even as he remains concerned with the young elleth's first words, "They have indeed left, and they go south rather than north to their home I fear."

The elleth lets out a sigh of obvious dissopointment.. "I see..." she states softly, her eyes never leaving the table top. After a moments pause, her head shakes away the thought as if it was nothing. "I was just thinking out loud.." the elleth adds with a fake smile. "There is no real reason for me to go there anyways."

"Set your sights upon a profession, one of many I'm sure you will have in life." Galharth says with a smile, "I can see you as a Bard as it seems you have a love to play your flute." Chuckling softly, the ellon reaches for his staff and draws it near. "Start with that, and I'm sure it will take you many places, or no where if that is what you wish."

The silvan is still quite obviously dissopointed, eyes downward, shoulders slumped even as she nods along to Galharth's words. She knows that he is right. "Of course Galharth.." she says at a whisper, followed by a quick smile. "Well... Could I come if you and Lostirial go?". Not willing to leave the subject to rest, Pelliwen takes one more stab at it. "I know my father would not allow it, but perhaps if you said something to him..."

Galharth smiles kindly. "Should you declare a profession, I will certainly find a good and honest reason to bring you with us should we go. And..." He pauses a moment as his hand finds a comfortable grip upon his staff, "....I will be glad to speak with your father and help him to see the benefits of education that such a trip might bring."

This response seems to please Pelliwen more than Galharth's last.. "Thank you Galharth.." she replys simply, raising her gaze from the table. "I promise to speak with Calriel or Calsir as soon as I'm able.". With that, the young silvan snatches her flute of the table in front and draws it close.

"And I'll prepare myself so to be ready to speak with your father." Galharth replies with a smile. "So when the time comes for a trip, we'll both be ready to do what needs done." With a wince of discomforth, the Tailor pulls himself upwards with the use of his staff. Closing his eyes a moment, he seems to draw upon some inner strength. When his eyes open next, he turns and looks to Pelliwen. "I suppose it does little good to sit around an empty shop all night. It was good speaking with you, my dear, but I think I'd better head off to get some rest."

Not raising from her seat, the elleth merely looks up to the tailor. Turning in her seat as he moves. "Thanks again Galharth.." she states again at a whisper, her hands once again clutching at her old wooden flute. A warm, sincere smile crosses her lips. "Enjoy the evening..."