================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Night
IC date is: 63 Laer <Summer>
Moon phase: Waxing Crescent <VISIBLE>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 18 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3042>
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RL time: Thu Nov 22
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Forest Path
The well-kept forest path continues onwards here to both the North and South. Up
ahead, the path appears almost golden by some trick of the light and the great
Mallorn leaves. There is a fresh, wholesome scent to the air, and you feel that
those of kind heart and good intentions could never find harm in this beautiful
place. You shudder at the thought of the fate of those with evil in their
hearts...a grey-feathered arrow and a quick death...
Contents:
Galharth
Caransul
Legarwin
Lostiriel
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The night is heavy with clouds blocking out any light from the stars, and above,
all is black. A heavy wind blows, wistling through leaves and sounding like the
crying of many voices. The hour is late, and a veil seems to have drawn itself
over the forest.
Lostiriel stands silently, the world around her echoing her dismal mood. The
wind sends her cloak billowing, but she stands still and solitary, unbending, as
if in defiance, against the forceful current.
"I'm sorry it's worked out the way it did, Lostiriel," Galharth says as he
approaches the Courier. "But truely, the news is needed in the city so those
with the knowledge can decide the course of action we must all take." Drawing
his arms over his chest, the Tailor looks to the sky. "There is still a chance
that we'll be setting forth in a few days along the southern route."
Quickly does a figure travel through the night blending in with the darkened
foliage. However, the pace slows down as those who are gathered are reached.
Drawing back his hood to reveal a visage that appears to faintly glow, Legarwin
lets his gaze fall upon those who are present. Hearing the words of the Tailor,
he says, "I too am sorry that such a delay has occured. The Marchwarden has
informed me of the situation and I shall be holding council with the Lord and
Lady to determine the next stage of action." His voice rings softly as if hushed
by the peaceful air.
From the shadows, a lithe figure appears. His arm are at his sides, his posture
erect. His eyes dart from side to side as he surveys the people who have
gathered. His mouth is the slightest of smiles as he takes a step forward,
pauses, then salutes the commander. "Good eve Commander Legarwin. How do you all
fare this night? I am just on my way from the borders to make the daily reports
to the city, is all."
Turning, Lostiriel looks up into Galharth's face and nods. "I am sorry as well,
but I understand that the news was greatly needed. I have hopes, however, that
we will still be able to complete our trip, just as you say." She looks at him
intently for a moment longer and is about to speak again when the sound of
another voice calls her attention and she turns to Legarwin, smiling faintly.
"Yes, well, if it is only a delay, then we shall all be happy, I think." Hearing
Caransul, she watches as another figure approaches, and then turns her gaze
upward, staring at the vast darkness of the sky as he speaks with Legarwin.
"Legarwin!" Galharth calls out in surprise. "Well, met and good tidings." The
Tailor adds, catching his own failure to properly greet the Commander. Relief
flitters over the Craftmasters face. "The Marchwarden's words have been quick to
reach your ears." He says with a smile, "And since this is so, there is no need
for me to hurry our pace to reach the city. The matter now seems to be firmly in
the hands of those who are able to bring forth resolution where we can not." He
comments softly as he unfolds his arms and looks down towards the ground,
clearly caught in some thought not revealed by expression or words. After a
moment, the Crafter looks up, "Will anything more be needed from us then, or
should we just await further direction from the Royal Court?" he asks as his
gaze turns towards the newly arrived Caransul.
"Very well though I believe the most urgent of news has already reached those on
duty," answers the Commander as the Sentinel reports his assignment. "However,
inform them that they are to keep a close watch for any who may approach our
borders be they friend or foe." Turning back to Galharth and Lostiriel he
continues, "There may still be need for you. If the Lord and Lady choose to heed
my advice, I shall wish to summon all those who have an interest in the High
Pass to aid in blockaging the fortress." His own eyes go to the sky before
returning to the others. "Courier, speak to the Minister and ask her to contact
any Eagles if she is able to do so. They may be our greatest allies."
Thorhur nods towards the Commander, then, seeing that he may have interupted in
matters above him, turns his eyes towards the ground. Like a child being
scolded, he says, "I am sorry if I have interupted. If you do not wish me to
hear of these matters, then I will leave," he says in a much more timid voice.
"Of course, I will do so," Lostiriel replies with a nod, glancing momentarily at
Caransul. Then, with a furrowed brow, she stands silently, contemplating the
many thoughts that tumble through her mind. She listens as the wind whistles
through the leaves, and finally inquires, "Is there anything after that?"
"I know not what might occur or how I might further be involved, as my own
experience falls far from matters such as these," Galharth says softly, more for
himself than any, adding in a lower voice, "....nor can I say I have a vested
interest. The Marchwarden did point out that there is a path across the
mountains here in the south."
Glancing towards the Courier, the Tailor nods. "Perhaps when you speak with
Niinaeth about the eagles, you might suggest we bring word of the fortress to
Imladhrim by crossing the mountain at the Redhorn pass."
"Indeed, I am much more interested in finding a way for this trip to be
continued. I will speak to Niinaeth, but that is where, I hope, my involvement
ends." Looking up at Galharth, Lostiriel's gaze is interested as she asks, "How
long do you think it will be until we are able to pursue our plans? You have
spoken about another pass..." Here her sentence trails off and she waits for his
reply.
Though spoken softly, the elven ears are keen to pick up speech. "To travel by
the southern route may place us in the same dangers if not more since we shall
need to then travel through the land of the Horselords and Dunlending. Neither
should we wish to intrude upon." Then, turning to Lostiriel, the Commander
answers, "The Lord and Lady shall not wish us to place ourselves in danger and
may require some time to pass after the decision is made to ensure that all is
safe...or as safe as it can be."
"Nay Legarwin, not the south path through Rohan or Dunland." Galharth says with
a furrowing of his brow, "I mean the Redhorn pass that lies to the northwest of
Lothlorien." A frown is joined with the furrowed brow, and the Tailor looks to
the Northwest. "It is not always the best route, especially in the dead of
winter, but in summer it is ideal for our needs. Especially with the High Pass
blocked."
A sigh escapes the Crafters lips and he looks again towards those present. "I
fear that there is danger in any path we take, but to assure that the route of
news remains open, we must take some measure of risk. The Royal Court has long
accepted this."
Lostiriel says, "Indeed, I agree with you Galharth." Lostiriel looks at both
Legarwin and Galharth for a long moment, and then, falling once more silent,
turns away from the conversation. She allows the two to make their own
decisions, and instead wanders aimlessly down the path, her gaze pointed upward
into the black sky."
Legarwin ponders on the suggestion remaining speechless for some time. When his
voice finally resonates, the words are slow to come. "Yes, the Redhorn is a
possible option but what is to say that that path is also not watched? We may
need to consult the Eagles who keep a constant surveillence on those passes
through the Mountains where their eyries dwell."
"That I leave to you, and those who might draw an eagle to Lothlorien for
counsel," Galharth says with a shrug of his shoulders. "I've heard many plans
suggesting an alliance with the great feathered beings, but I've had no
opportunity to be present around one." Pausing to look up into the sky, he seems
to be considering something, and when he looks again to Legarwin he seems
genuinely curious. "Do we have some means to alert them or draw them to our
land?"
"Nay. Though, there are those among us who are able to speak their language. If
the voice can carry into the heavens, for the Eagles have amazing hearing, then
we shall be able to summon one. They pass over our land on a continual basis due
to our residing near their dwelling. I do not forsee a problem in getting one to
land here especially if he or she is in need of rest at the Eagle shelter."
There is a pause in the words of the Commander before he states, "It was an
Eagle who saved me by carrying me to Imladris for desperate healing."
A smile forms upon the Crafters lips, and he nods. "Then I can understand your
great respect for the Eagles." Galharth replies, "I can only hope to have the
honor to meet and converse with one someday."
Falling silent, the Tailor takes a step back. "I am weary from our travel's
Commander, so if you'll forgive me I think it best to return now to the city.
I'm sure there will be several who would be interested in my unexpected return."
With that the Crafter turns and continues south along the forest path.