================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Mid Morning < About 9:48 AM >
IC day is: Orgilion <Stars-day>
IC date is: 42 Echuir <Stirring>
Moon phase: Last Quarter <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: Wed Oct 10 13:16:20 2007
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Weaver's Talan
Woven intricately about and throughout the branches of this tree, this talan of the weaver is. Overhead is but the canopy of blossoming branches, rays of sun jubilantly dancing through the openings, starlight also peering through in its own turn. Many a lantern hang overhead; ready to be lit when the light becomes too dim for the weaver to work. A pile of baskets dominates one corner; dusty, the majority unused, and apparently made many a year ago. A loom is set in front and to the side of the baskets, sometimes still, but many a time click-clacking away merrily. A wheel used for spinning wool and other raw material into thread stands proudly next to the loom, ahead of the baskets, but the feeling of overcrowding is not present in the least here.

On the opposite side of the talan is a large oblong table laden with many things, a small glass box in the far left corner, and a contraption holding several large bobbins of thread at the far right. Three pots, each smaller than the next, stand together on the table along one side; three gossipers who are only silent while the weaver works. The tallest holds many rolled-up scrolls, the one of medium height and build holding beads of shiny glass, the last and smallest of the trio holding needles and pins. Two mannequins stand next to the table, used to hold works-in-progress when needed.

Contents:
Galharth
Nioniel
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The mid-morning light cascades into the Weavers Talan, bringing forth a warmth rivaled only by the colors of the rainbow of fabrics stacked around the talan. A gust of wind blows forth through doors and windows, sending loose fabric waving in a delicate dance. Song carries in upon the wind, bringing a refreshing background sound to the busy workers within the Weavers Talan.

"We'll need to store the heavier fabrics, at least for the next few months. The demand at the moment calls for lighter, delicate fabrics more suitable for the spring and summer. Is there room to store the wools in the back of the talan?" Galharth asks as he tucks several bolts of grey flannel under his arm.

"I believe so Craftmaster," A slender dark haired apprentice replies. "Would you like me to take those back for you?" She asks as she approaches the Tailor with her arms extended.

"Would you mind?" He asks with a smile, "I'm still having a little trouble carrying heavier loads whilst walking." The young elleth chuckles softly, and takes the bolts and quickly disappears into the back of the talan.

Sunshine, wind and music aren't the only things carried lightly into the Weaver's Talan this sweet morning. Nioniel timidly glances around as she leaves the spiraled staircase behind her and stands uncertainly. The busy nature of the place seems to make her a little more shy than usual, and a worried expression comes to her deep blue eyes as she brushes a few stray hairs way that keep blowing in front of her face. Over one arm, she carries an empty basket - which might explain why she has come here.

Turning at the table to seperate lighter fabrics from heavier ones, Galharth catches sight of Nioniel, "Ah! Well met, mellon, how goes this day for you?" The Tailor says in a cheerful tone. "Is there something that we can perhaps help you with?" Standing upright, while leaning heavily on the table for support, the crafter carefully eyes the elleth. "A dress perhaps? A summer cloak?"

Always a little disconcerted at the suddenness of greetings, Nioniel smiles timidly still, but there is warmth behind the smile obviously. Stepping forward, she says nothing before glancing at the overwhelming array of fabrics surrounding her once again. Then, clearing her throat softly, she speaks up, "Well... you see, I don't usually ask for any help with my clothing ... " her voice trails off and the elleth looks down at her own dress as if afraid the tailor might be critical of her work, "I always make my own."

"Oh?" Galharth says with surprise. Reaching for his staff, the Tailor grips ahold of the sturdy wood as he stands fully upright. "You made what you're wearing?" He asks in a neutral tone as he he limps his way around the elleth. "Hmmmms," he muses as he comes to a stop in front of Nioniel. "Very nice work. Have you considered taking up crafting as a profession? I certainly could use another seamstress to keep down the backlog of work."

Being very sympathetic in nature, Nioniel seems to wince inwardly as she watches Galharth limping around her. She quickly tries to hide it however, and blushes a little while smiling, "Yes, I made this myself. I've made all my own clothes for ages now."

Stopping to ponder his words and weighing them visibly in her mind, the elleth looks a little uncertain. However, a gentle, musing smile plays upon her lips. "I cannot say I ever truly thought of it before, but I do enjoy sewing and creating clothing. I get such pleasure out of it ... I think I would even more so if I sewed not only for myself, but for others as well."

"It is indeed rather satisfying to see joy brought to another's eyes by your efforts." Galharth says with a warm smile. "To do for others, to bring forth something beautiful from something simple, is a crafters desire, and your words tell me that you do indeed have such desires." Carefully balancing his hold on his staff, the Craftmaster slips his hand into the pocket of his robe. "I offer you an opportunity to share your skills with others, while you take on the role of an apprentice within the Gwaith-I-Thein." Withdrawing his hand, he offers forth a beautifully carved wooden ring. Extending his hand, palm up, with the ring exposed, he smiles and adds, "Take it Nioniel, and you shall be hence forth known as a crafter within these halls."

If Nioniel's face has shown surprise or bewilderment before this, it has been nothing to match her expression now. Her eyes are alight with a sparkle of happiness and excitement, and her pale cheeks color slightly as she looks down at the ring in Galharth's outstretched hand. Glancing up at him and back to the ring several times, she says nothing and does not move as yet to take it, as if afraid it mightn't really be true. Then, finally breaking her silence, she asks in a breathless tone, "Really and truly? You ... you really want me to become an apprentice here?"

"It is not so much a matter of what I want, Nioniel," Galharth says warmly, "I do indeed need the help, and from the talent you show me with the dress you now wear, I'd say we have a common ground." Pausing a moment he tilts his head to gaze at the elleth, "But, the choice to join the Gwaith-I-Thein is yours and yours alone. The ring of apprenticeship is yours if you wish it."

Pondering the choice a few moments more, quite obviously with deliberation and care, Nioniel seems to come to her decision. "I have often felt I was looking for something that I was meant to do ... and somehow, I feel as though I've found it at last," she says simply. Then, smiling brightly, she reaches out and accepts the ring. Only a small hint of reservation remains in her voice as she adds quietly, "I only hope that I can live up to your expectations here, and not be a dissapointment."

"It is what I felt when I took on my apprenticeship long ago," Galharth says with a smile. Withdrawing his now empty hand, the Tailor looks to a pile of fabrics at the opposite end of the table. "I do not believe that you'll disappoint me, or anyone else for that matter. Now, to your first project" he says, turning his head to glance towards the elleth. "Would it offend you if I were to ask you to make blankets, not for edhel, but for horses? We just received the request today, and I have no one else to assign the task."

Far from appearing insulted, quite to the contrary, Nioniel's eyes sparkle happily and she stifles a little laugh. "I should like nothing better," she grins, "I love horses and have often spent many long hours caring for them and riding them with my father and brother. I know very well how to make blankets for them." Setting the basket she has been holding all the while down on the talan floor, she glances around excitedly, "Where is the material to be used for them? And have we the correct measurements?"

Sweeping a hand towards the fabric at the end of the table, "T'is there," the Tailor says with a smile. "The project is yours and I fear that I've not had a chance to get the measurements so that will have to be your frist step." Pausing, he seperates a few more bolts of fabric. "Oh," he says, glancing at the elleth again, "Be wary as the stables fall under my management as well." He says with a chuckle, "I'm in need of a few Stable Keeps so anyone who might show their love too freely will likely be hunted down to take on a part time job."

Galharth might possibly expect such a threat to deter the elleth, however her eyes seem to become even more alight with excitement at the prospect of working at the stable part time. She looks something like a child who desires to clap their hands together with glee, but restrains herself, saying nothing at first. She begins looking for a tape to measure and some paper to mark the measurements down on. "Some horses are rather ticklish about being measured. Hopefully I shan't annoy them too much," she muses to herself as she gathers all her supplies together and heads back to the staircase. Hardly timid anymore, she smiles confidently over her shoulder at Galharth as she departs.