1/26/2008
================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Early Morning < About 7:25 AM >
IC day is: Ormenel <Heavens-day>
IC date is: 71 Rhiw <Winter>
Moon phase: Waning Gibbous <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: Fri Jan 25 20:28:38 2008
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Hall of the Crafters

As you ascend the final few steps of the spiral stair and step upon the talan, you realize that, every bit as massive as the mallorn that supports it, the Hall of the Crafters is truly a marvel. The wide flet of smooth, well-trodden oak spreads about the lower canopy of the tree. Near the trunk of the tree sits a large, octagonal table of gold-inlayed cherry with chairs pulled around. Upon the table is a large silver salver holding a crystal decanter surrounded by ceramic wine mugs. To the rear of the talan, and partially isolated by long, heavy tapestries suspended from the branches above, sits a large desk with a high-backed chair, a cabinet with many small shelves for papers and reports, and a few smaller chairs for discussions.

To the front of the main area of the talan are padded, and in some cases covered, display cabinets filled with a great variety of goods and products produced by the crafters.

Contents:
Galharth
Istaril
Orodhandir



The light of early moving filters into the Hall of crafters, lighting the interior space with a rich golden hue. Outside, a cool wind blows from the north, bringing hints of a distant winter climate. It is a pleasant day, enhanced by the sweet sound of song mingling with the delicate birdsongs of nature.

Leaning over a large table, the Craftmaster Galharth peers carefully over the reports that have been gathered in his absence. With an outreached hand, he inspects the materials list consumed over the past month. Pausing at the list of jewels used by the smiths, the Tailor makes a soft sound of consideration. "Seems off...." he mutters as his mouth forms a slight frown.

Stepping quickly, but light-footed, into the Hall, Istaril looks around curiously, then spots the crafter Galharth. "A glorious morning, isn't it?"

Orodhandir Up the spiral stairs walks Orodhandirrhanidr. He stops as he enters the Hall of Crafters, squinting and looks into the bright light as it filters through the trees. He seems surprised to see that there are others inside the Hall. " Excuse me, am I interrupting?", he asks.

Looking up from the table towards the two recent arrivals, Galharth smiles. "Well me, both of you," he says as he pushes away from the table. Pausing to glance at first Istaril and then to Orodhandir, he tilts his head. "There is no interruption. The Crafters Hall is always open to one and all." Pausing a second time, his smile widens. "Is there something I can do for you both?"

Carefully selecting her words, the Elf nods and begins to explain her presence there. "Recently joining the Cuigrithweg, I have forfeited my rights to battle and war. But there is darkness outside this forest, well-protected though it is. I seek a simple way to defend myself should need press me."

Orodhandir stills seems startled to have found others here this early in the morning "No. No I was just out walking this morning and this is a place I like to come to write." "But there are pleanty of other places I can go." Orodhandir then looks towards Istaril and with a nervous smile says, "Good morning my lady."

The greeting brings a bright smile to Istaril's expression. Nodding, she returns it warmly.

The Tailor's smile turns to an expression of confusion. "A healer in battle?" Galharth mutters as if stumbling over his words. Looking past Istaril, he narrows his eyes as if searching for someone. "Mia put you up to this, didn't she?" he says in a soft voice as his gaze searches for someone standing just beyond the entrance to the Hall. Finding no one waiting, or watching, the Craftmaster looks back to the Novice. "My dear, I'll be glad to help you obtain a staff, a knife, or perhaps even a bow, though I doubt that you'll face many moments where you'll be forced to defend yourself."

Turning his gaze to Orodhandir, he nods. "This entire place inspires creativity, be it writing or crafting." Watching as the ellon greets the elleth, the crafters smile returns. "I am Galharth, by the way. And I've met Istaril, but I've not had the pleasure to introduce myself to you," he says to the Aderthad.

Orodhandir is startled by Galharth's words and quickly shifts his eyes from Istaril. "What? Huh? Sorry sir. I am Orodhandir. Your reputation precedes you Galharth. I am glad to make your acquaintance," he says with a nod.

"Nay, she did not," she counters, wholly amused at the thought. "But should someone be injured outside of the forest and need me, I would rather have a means of defense than to be rendered helpless before our enemies." Taking a moment to consider Galharth's suggestions, Istaril continues. "A staff would seem to suit me."

"Well met, Orodhandir," the Tailor says as he moves away from the table to join his visitors. Sweeping his hands forward, then palms outwards to either side, he smiles, "The Hall of Crafters welcomes you both." Lowering his hands to his side, the Craftmaster turns his attention to the Novice. "Then a staff you shall have, Istaril. I'll see that the Carpenters prepare one suitable to your needs."

"Reputation? Oh my...." he mutters, turning is attention to Orodhandir. "I'm almost afraid to ask what that might be." Chuckling softly, the ellon's good humor can be seen sparkling in his eyes. "I manage to get into a few things, so there are any number of things that can be said." Shrugging his shoulders he looks back to the table. "Can I offer either of you a glass of wine? It is of a batch made by the Counsel Earsul."

Orodhandir steps forward and says, "I would love a glass. And you Istaril?"

Shaking her head, she replies, "I must decline, but I thank you for your generosity. As an apprentice, it would not do for me to not to be alert."

Turning back to the table, the Tailor closes the distance to a beautiful bottle that sits in the midst of several glasses. "Earsul's talents are quite remarkable, I must say." Galharth says as he lifts both the bottle and a delicate stemed glass. Pouring the liquid into the glass, he extends the vessel towards Orodhandirhandir. "I suspect he uses his talents gained within the Royal Court to persued the grapes to relinquish the sweetest of flavors."

Glancing to the Novice as she speaks, the Craftmaster nods. "If the wine has the power to affect you, then I fully understand," he says as he caps the bottle and returns it to the table. "A shame though, for the wine is indeed rather fine this year."

Orodhandir reaches out and takes the delicate glass from Galharth. "Thank you sir." he holds the glass up to the sunlight. Swishing the wine around in the glass he takes it to his lips and takes a sip. Orodhandir's eyes open wide and a smiel comes across his lips. "I don't believe I have ever tasted finer."

Timidly peering into the small gathering of elves who have congregated here within the hall of crafters, Nioniel seems a little torn as to whether she should intrude or not. Biting her lip, she finally decides to take the last few stairs up and into the hall. A more relaxed smile plays upon her lips as she sights Galharth passing out wine to his fellow elves, and she speaks up quietly, "Is there enough left for a late-arrival to this party?"

Istaril smiles at her friend's sudden appearance. "You may have my portion," she offers.

Galharth positively glows from the Aderthad's words. "I'll be glad to pass along your words," he says as he lifts his own glass to his lips. Drawing in a taste of the ruby red liquid, the Tailor seems to sigh with delight. Opening his mouth, as if to speak further on the matter of wine, he falls silent upon hearing the Seamstress speak.

"Nioniel! I've been looking for you!" the Craftmaster says with enthusiasm. Lifting his free hand, he becons her in. "Come in here, and for the moment I've a matter that needs addressed before you are given wine." Hesitating a moment he grins at Istaril's words. Looking back to the Seamstress, he clears his throat. "Forgive my addressing this in front of company, but I need you to explain your actions whilst I've been gone." Lifting a brow, he holds his chin up as he waits for an answer.

Orodhandir looks towards the elf as she enters. He takes the glass from his lips as he finishes another sip. He looks towards Galharth, uneasy about the words directed towards the elf that just entered.

Smiling warmly at Istarils kind offer, Nioniel is about to reach her hand forward and take the offered glass. However, her actions are cut short, and her smile fades to a confused and worried expression when Galharth questions her actions in his absence. "M-my actions, sir?" She steps back, folding her hands in front of her, "What do you mean ... specifically?"

Sitting his own wine glass down upon the table, he sweeps his hand to the notes and reports that seem to overflow the table top. "All this," he says flatly. "Did I not leave you to attend to matters in my absence?" Glancing back to the seamstress, he lifts a brow. "Do you think you did your best in my absence?"

Orodhandir continues to look towards Galharth. His uneasiness is obvious in the speed in which he finishes his wine. Once the glass is empty, he moves quietly behind Galharth and sets the glass upon the table.

"Why ... I ... I ... " The words begin very quietly from the elleth, but they soon die. Casting her eyes down to the floor, her cheeks burn red and Nioniel couldn't look more distressed if she tried. Finally, somewhat muffled, perhaps by the starting of tears, she speaks again without looking up: "I did try to do my best, sir ... I did try."

Istaril sends a look of sympathy towards Nioniel, feeling for her. But she dares not interfere.

"Of course you did," Galharth says flatly, displaying a neutral expression. "Now I have to take action....." he mutters as a hand slips into the pocket of his robe. After a moment, the Craftmaster withdraws his hand. and extends a fist towards the Seamstress. "You've really given me no choice, Nioniel," he says as he opens his hand to reveal a darkly polished Journeyelf's ring. In the light of day, the silver inlay sparkles as a burning star, attesting to the skill and dedication of both the maker and the wearer.

"I am more than pleased with your efforts, Nioniel, and in fact I thank you for the dedication." Galharth says with a smile. His eyes twinkle with sincerity as he watches the newly promoted elleth for a reaction. Lifting his hand a bit higher, he adds, "You've earned it...."

At first as Galharth speaks, Nioniel draws back like one expecting a well-deserved strike. However, as he continues, she begins to look up once more, searching his face for his real meaning. Then, when the ring is extended, and the promotion announced, her breath catches in her throat and her eyes open wide like those of a startled deer. "You mean it ... you ... really mean it?" She seems incredulous and unable to say more, but joy sparkles in her eyes now where despair was only a moment before. With a trembling hand, she accepts the ring.

Watching the turn of events silently, Istaril can't help but beam, and words cease to come to her as easily as they did before.

"Congratulations" says Orodhandir towards Nioniel, as he shrugs his shoulders and looks nervously towards Istaril.

Chuckling softly, the Craftmaster reaches for the bottle of wine. "Of course I mean it. Promotions are not something that normally fall in favor as a joke." Glancing to all present, he lifts the bottle, "Now would you all join me to celebrate Nioniel's rise through the ranks of Crafting?" Pausing he looks to the Novice healer and winks. "With wine and perhaps a lovely tea, we can all enjoy the moment and the appreciation of both skill and fellowship."

Laughing softly at Galharth's remarks towards her, Istaril nods happily. "I would be grateful for a tea," she smiles warmly. "May you rise ever further, my friend Nioniel," the Elf wishes, turning to the seamstress.

Slipping the ring onto her finger after removing the wooden one, Nioniel cant help but finger it and smile admiringly upon it. "I shall do my utmost to live up to all this ring stands for, I promise!" she says breathlessly to the Craftmaster. She gratefully acknowledges the congratulations and good wishes from the others by fairly beaming upon them. Knowing that all the celebrating now rather surrounds herself in particular, she blushes and chuckles softly, "I still feel I do not deserve any high praise. It was all I could do to manage while you were away, and I often felt I did poorly."

Orodhandir walks over to the table and retrieves the glass he had just set down. Looking towards Nioniel he says, "We have yet to meet i am Orodhandir" As his glass is refilled by Galharth he raises it towards Nioniel, "Again, congratualtions on your promotion."

Nodding once to Istaril, he smiles. "Tea it is my dear," he says as he carefully fills glasses with the sweet wine. With the glasses filled, he gracefully crosses the room to a small table containing a teapot and cups. "I know you will," the Tailor comments to Nioniel as he pours the tea. "And do not overly think about my words, as you know them to be true and honest." Glancing over his shoulder his smile tilts slightly with a look of mischief. "Unless you care to argue my honesty or perhaps my reputation."

Returning with the tea, he offers it to the Healer. "Istaril here needs a staff, perhaps you can see to negotiating her needs with the Carpenters." Stealing a glance to Nioniel he lifts a brow as if waiting for an objection.

Still smiling, Nioniel nods in greeting to Orodhandir, "I am pleased to meet you." It would seem all the excitement has cause the elleth to forget her usual shyness around strangers.

Sipping her wine happily for a moment, she looks back at Galharth and laughs, "Nonsense. I could never doubt your honesty ... you just had me scared for a minute or two there before." After another sip, she looks between the Craftmaster and Istaril and appears thoughtful for a second before replying with a smile, "Why, yes of course. I would be glad to help her. With all my heart."

Istaril looks at Nioniel gratefully. "I truly appreciate your kindness," she expresses.

Orodhandir finishes his second glass of wine and once again sets his glass upon the large wooden table. "I am sorry to disturb this special ceremony, but I must be going. I have some writing that I must get done. Thanks for the wine Galharth". Turning towards Nioniel he says, "I am sure you are most deserving of your promotion." Then stepping towards Istaril, Orodhandir shyly says, "It was nice to see you again my lady." With that said he turns to head for the door.

"Good," Galharth comments to Nioniel, "Please let me know how that turns out." Lifting his own glass and downing he wine with a single swallow, he bows his head to all present. "Forgive me, but I've a matter that I need to attend to." Stepping away from the group, he offers a smile. "I look forward to speaking with all of you again at a later date." With that said, the Craftmaster turns and departs the Hall of Crafters after Orodhandir. In a short moment, he quickly disappears into the morning light.