3/5/2008
================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Late Morning < About 10:51 AM >
IC day is: Orgaladhad <Trees-day>
IC date is: 8 Laer <Summer>
Moon phase: Waning Gibbous <VISIBLE>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 19 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3043>
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RL time: Wed Mar 05 13:37:05 2008
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Golden Roadway - Northeastern Arc - Courtyard
You stand in a long open air courtyard that interrupts the Golden Roadway. The main body of the yard stretches out before you for about a hundred yards. In the center is a marvelous shimmering fountain carved from the purest white marble in the shape of a swan. Here and there, layed out in geometric patterns, are low rows of hedges and riffled through bushes.

Along the west edge of the yard lies the entrance to Lorien's Theater, an arching silver gate covered with twisting vines and satin white roses. Nearby, a marble stairway climbs the hill. To the east lies the stairs that lead down to a grove, sacred and beloved. The sun shines brightly through the clearing in the canopy above, shedding a warm glow over the entire area.

Contents:
Galharth
Amaldir


The late morning sun filters down through the treetop canopy high over the Courtyard on the Golden Roadway, bringing the warmth of summer to the pathway. A soft breeze blows from the southwest, bringing the scents of both the river and the gardens that lay along the wind's path. Song filters through the trees from somewhere within the city, and the tune is one of fond memories of the ages past. Many edhel wander along the Golden Roadway this day, and the soft whispers of conversations mingle with the song.

On this good morning, the Tailor Galharth wanders among the others, humming in time withe the song being sung. In his hand he carries his staff, though clearly it's more a tool for show than of need.

Amaldir strolls into the courtyard, clasping a small scroll in his hands. He looks down to it, then up, and among the Elves gathered in the courtyard, he spots a familiar face - Galharth, the Tailor. He smiles, masking the concern on his face, and greets him; "Fine morning it is, is it not, Galharth?"

Upon hearing his name, Galharth looks up to search the faces of those around him. Catching sight of Amaldir, he turns direction so to meet up with the ellon. "It is indeed, Amaldir," the Tailor says with a nod and a glance to the scroll held in the other's hand. "I was hoping to run into you, if only to let you know that I've spoken with Maglind, and the news you brough was slightly off."

Pausing a moment, the Crafter smiles and shakes his head. "The good Warden was banged up a bit, but managed to get through the ordeal with the Orc without bloodshed. His clothing, however, is another story entirely."

"I see. Well that at least is a burden relieved. I apologise for any unneccessary worry I may have caused you." Amaldir smiled and nodded his head slowly, as if it were a peace offering. His glance sooned turned from Galharth's face, to his staff. "Interesting" Amaldir said, pointing to it "Who made that staff?"

Lifting a hand, he waves off the ellon's apology. "Worry not, mellon, as Maglind said, the young Sentinel's are well known for their talking and assumptions. Give them a thousand years or so, and they'll settle down."

Turning to glance at his staff brings a smile to the Tailor's face. "This was made for me by Aeglirhaeron when the Troll Grot laid me up with injury a while back." Chuckling softly, the crafter turns to look at Amaldir. "The first time, that is, and it's kept me upright and moving for several times after that." Glancing again at the scroll, he lifts a brow. "I've seen you message once, and now you carry a scroll. Are you of the Royal Court or have you just happened upon these things by chance?"

Galharth lifts his chin and his smile fades to a crooked smirk. "You would?" he says softly. "And you'd be willing to serve the Lord and Lady on all tasks that they might have need?"

Turwaithiel had been enjoying the day with a stroll. She was certain there was plenty to be done but she had nothing pressing to do at the moment. Taking advanage of the time she had, she decided that it was the perfect time to slip out of doors for a few moments. Hearing the conversation breifly she turned and headed towards the sound of the voices. "Well this is most unexpected. I did not think to see you here."

"Well of course. While they are my Lord and Lady, I see it as my duty to serve them how I can. Formalising that, I would be happy to do." Again, he nodded his head to Galharth, then, on hearing another voice, he jerked his head around and saw Turwaithiel. "Greetings. Why is that?"

"Well of course. While they are my Lord and Lady, I see it as my duty to serve them how I can. Formalising that, I would be happy to do." Again, he nodded his head to Galharth, then, on hearing another voice, he jerked his head around and saw Turwaithiel. "Greetings. Why is that?"

Amaldir says, "Well of course. While they are my Lord and Lady, I see it as my duty to serve them how I can. Formalising that, I would be happy to do." Again, he nodded his head to Galharth, then, on hearing another voice, he jerked his head around and saw Turwaithiel. "Greetings. Why is that?""

Turning to the sound of a familiar voice, the smirk is quickly replaced with a warm smile. "Turwaithiel! You are just the elleth I need to see." Galharth says, pausing his conversation with Amaldir. Lifting a hand and one finger, he adds, "One moment and I'll explain."

Turning back to Amaldir, his expression becomes stern. "As Prelate of the Royal Court, I take your oath and hereby grant you to title of Courier of the Royal Court. With that, I assign you messenge duty between the City and the Borders. Also," he says, pausing a moment before he continues, "when messenger traffic does not consume your time, you are to learn something of the languages, and something of weapons. Does this meet with what you wish?"

"Indeed it does. However I can serve the Lord and Lady of Lorien, I will do so. As for languages and weapons, I always seek paths of self-improvement, and those seem fine indeed."

Turwaithiel nods in reply before to turning to answer the question. "It is only that I did not expect to see any one here, and I come across two is the only reson for my saying that. But I do not believe I have seen you here before. I am Turwaihtiel, so tell me what brings you here this day?"

Amaldir smiles at Turwaithiel. "Well, the sun is out, and the isn't too strong. It is a fine day indeed. Besides, I was handed a scroll I need to deliver. Only, I can't for the life of me, find it's intended recipient. Do you have any idea where Lord Celeborn is?" With the mention of the scroll, he looked stern again, and he avoided making eye contact with it, sitting in his hand.

"Lord Celeborn?" Galharth muses. Glancing to the highest point within the city, the Tailor sweeps a hand towards it. "He'd likely be somewhere in the Great Tree, though I can not say for sure. I'm sorry to say that you'll have to continue to search for him as he could be found anywhere at any time."

Turning now to Turwaithiel, he draws his hands behind his back. "And for you Turwaithiel, Maglind needs Ringmail. Since he won't come to us, I suspect you'll have to go to him to get it made. Would you mind taking on the task?"

Turwaithiel pauses for a moment and nods. "Of course. I think he is not comfortable with what happened even though it could not be helped. I am glad things turned out the way they did or there would be much bigger problems for us to deal with. I shall speak to him about it as soon as we cross paths. Speaking of Maglind is he doing well?"

"That is as I feared", Amaldir sighs "The Lord can be found anywhere in Lorien, and he isn't one to make his appointments public. The worst thing is this message I carry is of great importance." He looked to his feet, then back up to Galharth. "I suppose my only chance of finding him is if I look, and now is as good a time as any. I fear if I stay here all night, the problems could increase."

"He is well," Galharth replies, "And in need of new clothing," he adds with a downward turn to his lips. "As usual," he mutters softly. Turning to Amaldir, the Tailor nods. "I sympathize with you my friend. It would be easier if the Lord were to appoint a Herald, but he's made no decisions on such matters so we must all worth with what we have." Pausing towards the top of the city, he grows silent for a moment before continuing. "I wish you well, Amaldir, and I hope to see you again soon."

"Thank you Galharth. I will be going now, for my news is pressing, and as much as I like standing here, it does not contribute to the job I have been given." Amaldir turns, and begins to walk away. Before he exits the courtyard, he meets Nioniel, the seamstress. He smiles, and nods his head in acknowledgment to her, then disappears from the courtyard.

Turwaithiel can not help but smile at the news. "That is well. I have been worried, Still it is nothing to dwell on. You are fine as well. As for me I think I shall remain gratefull to our visitor for many a day."

Nioniel had probably meant to enter the small gathering of elves here in the courtyard unnoticed, but since Amaldir spots her as he hurries off on his own pressing affairs, she smiles back and walks forward. She nods in brief greeting to Turwaithiel as she approaches. Carrying a very dirty and torn up bundle of clothing draiped over her arm, she smiles a bit more wryly to tailor: "Good afternoon, Galharth ... I was just looking over Maglind's clothing, and I thought perhaps I should ask whether it was actually /worth/ repairing them, or if I should see about getting new garments made."

Watching Amaldir depart, the Tailor smiles at the ellon's back. "Hard working fellow. The Royal Court will be pleased with his efforts." As Turwaithiel speaks, he turns towards her with an expression of curiosity. "Oh? What has Gildor done?"

Before he can gain an answer, another voice is heard. Sighing softly, he turns towards Nioniel. "I think it would be best to start from scratch. I've just asked Turwaithiel to make his armor, so perhaps we can deliver both the armor and a new suit of clothing at the same time."

Turwaithiel pauses for a moment before collecting her thought. "He returned with me to the wood after I had a little run in with those orcs. I could have made it home myself it was only an arrow in the leg after all, but it was still good to not be a lone. It was a small thing really but it was welcomed. And yes I think it best to give Maglind the clothing and armor at the same time."

The elleth is far from mirthful over the situation, but Nioniel chuckles all the same and nods to Galharth's suggestion: "Truely, I had hoped you would say so. I fear if I were to stitch and patch it up as much as it needs ... well, I believe it would have ended up looking like a patch-work quilt! Not very respectable looking." Turning to Turwaithiel, she grins, "That should please him I think to recieve both at the same time. But I wonder if you can forge the armor as fast as we stitch the garments."

Shock flickers over the Tailor's face. "I had heard you were injured, but I was not aware that it had been so severe." Shock is quickly replaced with anger and he looks to the south. "I've orders out right now that the Foresters are to wait to decend upon the trees in need of aid. But it's become clear that these beasts are threatening more and more. It can no longer be tolerated." Glancing from the Weaponsmith to the Seamstress, his eyes blaze with anger. "I've a mind to speak with the Lord and the Commander regarding this recent threat. Too long has it been allowed in an area often considered safe."

Turwaithiel pauses for a moment. "It was not as bad as all that and in any count I am prefectly fine now. This things happen no matter what we do there is always the chance that there is a section of ground missed. All that can be done is to keep watch and react when something happens. It is not something we can spend much time dwelling on."

Sobering down instantly at the anger flashing in Galharth's eyes, Nioniel's gaze drops to the ground, and worry seems to fill her face. "The shadow of this threat does seem only to worsen with time. I fear what may come of it all if nothing is to be done soon ... " Her voice trails off, and she listens solemnly to Turwaithiel speak. Then, quietly to herself more than the others she says, "No ... no use dwelling on it. But there is something I believe I have put off too long; at least by the way things are looking now."

"There is very little that we can do, this is true Turwaithiel, but the Guards train to do such things to keep us safe." Galharth says firmly. Pausing to glance between the elleth's, he sighs. "Forgive me ladies, too often these situations remind me of a story told by the Ranger Henleg. Since that telling, I'm more inclined to try to do something, even if it is to learn a weapons use, rather than nothing at all." Sighing heavily, he looks again from one to the other. "Alas, at least you both now have tasks to occupy your mind. Please let me know when they're done."

Looking somewhat downcast, Nioniel replies to the tailor quietly, looking down at the tattered bundle of clothing in her arms: "I have more than one task to occupy my mind as well, sir. I too have decided to learn some useful weapon for defence ... if I can. Whether I will do anyone, including myself any good, I do not know. But I should think it is worth a try."

Turwaithiel nods. "of course this things will not make themselves. Speaking of which I should be getting started but it has been loveely."

"I can't agree more, Nioniel. Any effort you take to learn to defend yourself and others is sure to be valued." Galharth says as he watches Turwaithiel depart. When the elleth fades from sight, he turns to look upon the Seamstress. "I did not mean to imply that you had no other tasks to occupy your time. Forgive me if I've downplayed your workload."

Watching Turwaithiel depart briefly, Nioniel turns back to Galharth and smiles, "Oh, no need to worry about that. I understood what you meant by what you said." The elleth's momentary cheer falters rather quickly and worry returns to her expression. "I know I ought to do it, but I am rather fearful of learning, and fearful that I will fail."

"If you do nothing, you will fail, so by learning, you at least attempt to succeed." Galharth says firmly. "Myself, I fully intend to continue to learn." Pausing to lift his staff, he nods towards it. "I think that I'll learn some skill to use this as a weapon." Chuckling softly, the Tailor lowers his staff. "It seems my best choice since I often find myself in need of its use.

Looking up into the sky, he sighs again. "I suppose I'd better get back to work. Perhaps we'll meet again after I've done the morning fittings."

Glancing at the Tailor's staff, still rather worried, and smiles weakly, "Yes, perhaps that would be the wisest choice of weapon ... and besides, it is a powerful one, I should think." Then, looking to the sky as well, the seamstress chuckles, "Yes, and if Maglind is ever to have new clothing, I'd better get to work. Perhaps I should use stronger material this time, and double the seams to ensure strength."

Smiling warmly once more, Nioniel calls back as she turns to leave Galharth, "We'll meet again soon enough, I'm sure."