3/7/2008

================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Early Morning < About 7:30 AM >
IC day is: Orgaladhad <Trees-day>
IC date is: 14 Laer <Summer>
Moon phase: Waning Crescent <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: Fri Mar 07 12:30:04 2008
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Shaded Lawn
A narrow length of green lawn surrounded by tall trees; the trees that spring from the midst of the lawn itself dapple the grass with the cool shade of their boughs. Thick groves of brightly-shining mellyrn line the west and south sides of the greensward, reaching for the sun with their upswept limbs, while an old birdnest rests in one of the hedges near the northward path. The sun spills over the edge of the horizon, filling the air with light.

Contents:
Galharth
Galadriel

The early morning light shining down through the treetops, seems to embrace the foliage within the Shaded Garden. From the south blows a warm summer breeze, sending the leaves and branches into a delicate fluttering dance. The scent of roses is strong in this place, filtering from the rose garden to the north. Strangely, the bards seem almost reserved this day, with only a few joined in song somewhere within the city.

Standing just off the path, the Tailor Galharth seems oblivious to all the beauty around him. Holding his left hand up before him, the pure white cloth stands out in a place of rich greenery. Clenching and unclenching his fist, he seems to be testing the hand's strength.

From the direction of the Rose Garden comes Galadriel; her outfit of green and white is fit for the weather and the place. She glances once over her shoulder back towards the garden she has just left, then pauses to bend over slightly and remove her simple shoes. She then steps onto the soft grass of the lawn here and continues to parallel the path, towards Galharth. She cocks her head slightly, observing his strange ritual, but saying nothing yet.

There is no sound that might alert the Tailor, so perhaps he catches a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye. Although he says nothing to reveal what has given away the Lady's presence, Galharth looks up. With his bandaged hand forgotten, it falls to his side. "Well met, Lady Galadriel," he says, taking a step Northwards atop the green grass.

"Indeed," replies the Lady and her eyes travel briefly to his bandaged hand. "I should ask you what hurt has befallen you, but it seems such a passe topic these days." She laughs a little, but not cruelly, and to show that she means no harm, she follows up quickly, "I hope it does not hurt too badly, I heard about Maglind's ill-fated nap upon the lawn."

At the Lady's words, Galharth briefly lifts his hand to gaze upon the bandage. A smile passes over his lips as the land lowers once more to his side. "Nay, it is more an anoyance than any great hurt." The Tailor admits with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Though to be honest, I'd not let the Warden know this, as he rightfully deserves some measure of repayment for the wound." Pausing a moment, he looks to the south and then back to the Lady, "Though to be honest, I'll not let him suffer long."

Again, the Crafter looks to the south. "Did you hear too, that we're considering the possibility of diving once more." Looking quickly to the Lady, he adds in an equally quick voice, "Just to look. We're unlikely to bring much if anything to the surface due to past.... issues."

Galadriel watches Galharth face instead of following his gaze. "I had /heard/, but I suspected as much for a while now. I cannot blame you. I admit that I am curious too, to find out where the ship came from. The work is so beautiful...especially the figurehead." Now her gaze does drift, but to no place in particular. She remarks in a voice that is somehow detached, "She must have been an incredible woman for a carver to put such detail and work into a piece of wood." Coming back to to the lawn suddenly, she refocuses upon Galharth, "Think you that we have a craftsman capable of recreating such a piece?"

The smile held upon his face fades as the Tailor gathers his arms across his chest. Looking intently towards the ground, he considers the Lady's question. Finally looking up, he shakes his head. "While Sinda and Silvan offer lovely work, the days of Noldo expertise is long beyond our time here in Lorien. I can think of none who possess such skill." Galharth says. His tone is even, but deep within his words there is a touch of sadness and perhaps regret for what he says. "The work is remarkable indeed, and even after all this time underwater, the figure seems to radiate something special." Again he looks to the south. "Perhaps when we dive there will be something that will offer a tale that is not as violent as the ones we've found so far."

Galadriel seems somehow disappointed, though surely she of all elves should know the incomparable work of the Noldor. The look is fleeting, however, "No matter. You are right in that it is still has a beauty, though it is worn. I think I shall have it brought into the city and given a place of honor, behind the mithril gates perhaps, on a pedestal." For a moment, she is silenced by thoughts of these plans, but then she continues, her voice somber, "I am not so sure, brother. For all that we have learned so far, I am not certain that there is any good to be found in this ship's tale. I fear its commision was dire from the beginning."

"I'll send the Carpenters to help with the transfer of the figurehead, though to be honest, wood for such a project is hard to come by these days while our Foresters stand watch over the threatened trees to the south." Galharth says with a sigh of concern. "I for one will be glad when the Orc are gone from that area."

Furrowing his brow, he absently uncrosses his arms and rubs the healing knife wound on his hand. "Good or bad, it is a tale that seems determined to be told," The crafter says as he shifts his position upon the grass. "I've found myself to be quite curious about a number of things over the past few years, but this ship and the items that lie upon the river bed seem to consume me." Smiling now, he looks into the Lady's face. "Besides, the Lady has a tale, and what good ellon would ignore such beauty, even if she's made of wood."

Galadriel smiles as a woman will, "You, Galharth, betray your wisdom with your words." She looks down as she skims her toes over the soft grass, "Well you have my permission, if you were seeking it, to resume the dive. With caution of course. The knife I still have, and I cannot believe that there would be more than one item of such power, but best to be aware. And, as you say, the uruk have been too prideful of late, and wander nearer than they usually are wont. I bid you, if you dive, let it be in the presense of a warden on watch."

One corner of the Tailor's mouth rises higher into a crooked grin. "Of course were were waiting for your permission. Neither I, nor Maglind would think to ever disobey you or Lord Celeborn's wishes." Galharth says with a tone that clearly reveals his excitement. "And considering Maglind's frequent difficulties with the duckweed that grows along the shore, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to serve as the primary guard."

Tilting his head, he seems to consider something more. "Would you like to join us for some of the dives?"

Galadriel laughs a little and her face is bright, "I shall be glad to help you sort through the treasure, but nay, I shall leave the diving to you, Galharth. The River and I have an agreement: I stay out of his realm and he stays out of mind. I'd wager you cannot remember a flood on the Long Lawn." She is smiling, but somehow it does not seem her words are totally an excuse not to go swimming.

Warily approaching the shaded lawn as the great Lady herself, and the tailor, Galharth are speaking, Nioniel tilts her head when she catches a snatch of their conversation. The timid elleth does not remain hidden long though, considering the bright sunshine pouring into the area, and she steps forward: "Mae govannen, my lady, and Galharth," She greets them both gracefully for once without entering on a mishap, but there is a great deal of curiosity in her expression as she does so. "Please don't think of me as nosey, but what is this talk of treasure and diving?"

The Tailor's mough twitches slightly between a smile and a frown, with the frown finally winning for the first few moments after the Lady speaks. "As you wish, though know that the offer remains should you change your mind, even if only to stand upon the rivers edge so that you might see the events first hand."

Opening his mouth, as if to say more, he turns to welcome Nioniel. "Well met, Seamstress," he says warmly, "And yes, we were talking about diving." Sweeping a hand to the Lady, he smiles. "The Lady has given her permission to resume diving upon the ship. Isnt' that wonderful?"

Galadriel inclines her head kindly towards the recently arrived seamstress. She withholds greeting, however, and allos Galharth to bring Nioniel up to date. She nods as he finishes speaking and adds, "Once we have learned all we can, we will put the ship to rest...and have a nice tale for the next Bardic Congress."

Whether the news is wonderful or not, Nioniel seems to prefer withholding judgment. Excitement sparkles in her eyes at first, (the Tailors mood is rather catching) but it soon fades to concern. Biting her lip briefly before speaking: "I suppose it might be ... but hasnt a great deal of trouble risen from the underwater excavation of that wreck? Some including yourself, I think?" She glances worriedly from Galharth to Galadriel. Even the notion of a good tale isnt quite enough to convince her that it is all worthwhile just yet.

From the shadows of the trees a silent figure has been standing by while conversation has gone on. Adjusting his position, he moves into the light and in view of those gathered. His entrance is silent, for he does not wish to disturb the talk that has been going on.

"Ah, but who shall write such a thing? Perhaps the good Warden? He could sing a song with his harp accompanying his words." Galharth says with a grin. Turning towards Nioniel, he chuckles. "How much more trouble can we possibly find. It seems to me that we've found the worst in the begining and now we've nothing more to worry about." Sweeping a hand to the south as if to indicate the ship, the Tailor pauses when he catches sight of another. "Well met, Thorhur."

Galadriel nods to Nioniel as Galharth speaks, "I have to agree with Galharth, though your cavalier attitude makes me nervous, friend. Let us not tempt Fate." She arches an eyebrow at him in a good-natured way, then follows his gesture towards the recently appeared Thorhur, "Good day, Thorhur."

Her fears slightly assuaged by Galharths light-heartedness, Nioniel seems tempted to smile and let the excitement return. However, she still gazes uncertainly at Galadriel. Before she can speak any further though, she also spies Thorhur off in the trees and grins, "Greetings, Thorhur. Theres no need to hide amongst the brush - theres talk of resuming the dives upon the shipwreck."

Thorhur smiles and greets each warmly. When news comes to him concerning the shipwreck, his eyes light up and he steps forward. "Ah, more chance of adventure? I would so very much love to see the wreck from a different view," Thorhur comments, his eyes trailing towards the mellyrn above his head.

"I do not dismiss the danger that may lie upon the river bed, Lady Galadriel, but I hope I've learned enough to have the sense to avoid anything further that might fall before us." Galharth says with a shake of his head. Turning to Thorhur, he furrows his brow slightly as he lets his arms drop to his side. "Adventure? nay, mellon, it's more finding answers. If you'd like to join me on the dive, then consider yourself invited." Sweeping one foot over the grass so that the tips of green bend slightly under the light pressure, he looks down. "It is a marvoulous sight, for the river bed is much like this grass. It's thick and deep green in color, and yet it dances as if some invisible foot is ever sweeping over it."

Looking up to each face, he sighs. "Alas, I'd like to be sure the Orc across the river are dealt with before we begin anything."

Galadriel nods in agreement with Galharth, "Your desires mirror my own, sir. And I shall speak to my Lord about it this very day. In the meantime, I shall leave you all alone to plot and plan. Good day." And with that, the Lady continues across the grass, her bare feet leaving little impression in the green expanse.

Watching Galadriel depart with a somewhat quizzical smile, Nioniel nods as she leaves and falls to thinking. Pondering everything silently, the elleth keeps her thoughts to herself for a time. However, glancing down at the grass with a curious expression, she finally says in a quiet voice, "I dont suppose ... I could help at all ... could I?"

Thorhur turns to Galharth and smiles. "Count me in, Galharth. Nothing would delight me more than adding some orc corpses to my collection and diving for the shipwreck," he says with a wink.

Turning to Nioniel, the Sentinel smiles gently. "I know it is not my place to say so, but there is always need for extra help," Thorhur says softly. "However, I cannot speak for Galharth, and the choice is up to him."

"Thank you Lady Galadriel," Galharth says as he watches the graceful elleth depart. After a moment, he turns to Nioniel and offers a nod. "It's just as Thorhur says. Your help would be most welcome, mellon. Either on the shore, or in the water." Drawing his hands before him, the Craftsmaster taps one finger into the palm of his good hand. "Once the Orc are taken care of, we'll do a short dive to be sure that the ships position and contents is still accessable." Tapping his palm a second time, he continues to speak. "Then we'll decide what portion of the ship we'll be exploring." Glancing at the others he lifts his chin. "How does that sound?"

The seamstress eyes light up with excitement now, and she seems to have finally caught the ship-wreck bug completely now. Nioniel nods enthusiastically to Galharths plan, her expression darkening only slightly at the mention of orcs. "Really, I feel I can hardly wait now to get started," she says with a chuckle to both ellyn.

"I cannot wait either," Thorhur says excitedly, standing and pulling his cloak around him. "Things need to be attended to at the borders though, and I shall need to see to them," he says hastily, and with a wave, heads down the road briskly.

Glancing from Nioniel to Thorhur, Galharth nods. "No more than I look forward to what is to come." Watching as Thorhur departs, the Tailor smiles to the Seamstress. "And with that said, I'll need to speak with Maglind, as the Lady said that permission to dive was given, only if we have a guard to watch the shores while we're beneath the waves." Bowing his head slightly, he smiles. "I'll let you know when we're to begin." And with that, the Craftsmaster turns and moves towards the Goldenroadway.