4/5/2008

Eagle Shelter

Ascending the long wood ramp, into the mellyrn, you find yourself within a talan of unusual proportions. This circular talan, larger than the usual, has no sides, only that of bough of vine keeping the talan well hidden from view. Directly in the center is yet another unusual sight, a large nest fashioned by the Galadhrim. Limbs, bent and boughed, held together with twisting vines, make the nest comfortable for the healing eagles.

Aside from this, little is to be seen. Save a wooden table, upon which are placed the herbs the healers use in their work. A small mattress is lain upon the bare floor, next to which a large silver basin containing fresh water can be found. Oddly extended over an enormous bough, there appears to be a hoist of some fashion.

Contents:

Raugsaul

Henleg

Gandalf


Dusk falls upon the lands of middle earth. In many places things slow down for the night is at hand. There is a soft breeze that blows through the many lands. Near the land of Lothlorien hidden to most a forested land things go about as they often do many working still or walking the paths, nothing seems out of the normal.

High above the clouds something not seen everyday does approach these lands, an eagle very much larger than any other of his animal cousins with two shapes upon his back. The great eagle flaps keeping himself aloft and finally letting out a sscreeetch as he approaches "There is a shelter for my kin, in these lands." Raugsaul speaks in the common tongue his beak clicking as he does so. He tilts his wings dipping below the clouds his sharp eyes find the place he looks to touchdown.

The old wizened form of Gandalf sits easily upon the messenger of Manwe's back, his staff clutched in one gnarled hand. He gives the great eagle a pat on the shoulder, "Anywhere within Lothorien will suit our needs great Raugsaul. You must carry my sincere thanks to your Lord and King for this transport." The grey wizard's eyes narrow to slits as he squints against the on rushing wind that the eagle's swift and sure pace creates.

Sitting upon the edge of the Eagles Shelter, a figure stares at the moving water that lay just below. His teal green robes, and silver hair flutters softly in the soft breeze. A sound is heard, and Galharth frowns slightly as he scans the shoreline as if seeking the source of the noise. "Nothing...." he mutters aloud. Tucking his hand in his pocket, he withdraws a golden chain which catchs in the last light of dusk. Shaking his head, he tucks the necklace back into his pocket.

Standing near to Galharth is Nioniel, the seamstress. She too hears a sound ... her eyes dart hither and yon as she searches the land keenly for the source. Nervously she clutches a fold of her deep blue, velvety gown and bites her lip, "I don't believe it is nothing..." she says thinly.

Hardly even glancing at the glittering object in the tailor's hand before it disappears again into his pocket, she adds with more strength "I feel as though something were very close, indeed. Can't you feel it?"

Raugsaul nods his head in response to the form upon his back. The avian looks back onto himself as much as can be as if to check the other is still there. The eagle shelter comes into view and the two upon it. His amber eyes sharp as his kind is apt he makes a circle dipping a bit lower to the ground, flapping his wings once more as he lowers another few warbles break his silence but no other screeetch comes forth from the raptor

Looking over his shoulder, Galharth furrows his brow as he looks upon the Seamstress. "The breeze blows often near the river," He says softly as he rises to his feet. Bushing the teal fabric of his robes and trousers, he sighs softly. "T'is nothing but perhaps the tension of last eve's meeting, or perhaps the worry of what might lurk so near to our borders." Pausing to sweep his gaze over the landscape, and at that moment, he catches sight of something. Lifting an arm, he points towards a growing dot within the sky. "What is that?"

Still gripping the fold of her gown, Nioniel gives it a few more nervous twists. Her expression is something like that of a deer who has heard a twig snap behind her on an otherwise quiet evening. The seamstress gives a tense and brief nod in ascent to the fact that the breeze blows more near the river, but she averts her eyes and says nothing in reply to the mention of last evening's meeting.

Roused again by Galharth suddenly pointing to the sky, Nioniel jumps a little and focuses in on the little dot.

"Why ... I ... I believe it is a bird of some kind. I see wings!"

The dot grows ever larger and larger as he circles towards the ground. The avian this represents tries not to dislodge his passengers in his landing. The eagle finds a place clear of the two elves as his point. He opens his beak, and another call distinctly from this bird erupts echoing through the lands. "I come with passengers." Raugsaul calls after in the common tongue he is now close to the ground and within moments his taloned feet find purchase there. The avians wings are folded back upon him but he does something many have never seen bending his legs he drop's upon a "knee." and lowers himself to allow those atop to find the ground safely.

"Thank you for the swift delivery servant and Manwe." Mithrandir says in his husky voice. He puts both legs on one side of the eagle and slides off his back landing with a spryness that belies his seeming fragility. He reaches up to adjust his tall blue hat and gazes about the talon taking in the elves there.

Curiosity sweeps the Tailor's expression as he watches almost open-mouthed as the giant bird circles over head. "Stand back, Nioniel! He claims to carry passangers." Galharth says as he stands upon the very edge of the shelter.

Lifting a hand to his brow, so to see past the flutter of wing and dust that drives upwards in the swirl of air. When the Eagle lands, he steps forward. "Well met and Welcome!" He calls out in Common, to both the Eagle and his passengers. Another step is taken as a voice from the Eagles back is heard, followed by the appearance of an old man. His mouth opens once and then closes, as if uncertain as to how to greet this new arrival.

There is no need to warn the elleth to stand back. Fleeing nearly to the edge of the talan, Nioniel's lips part in surprise and awe as the great eagle soars in for a graceful landing. She scarcely looks as though she is breathing at this point, holding a pale hand to her heart. Wide-eyed and silent, her gaze darts between the enormous avian, the tailor, and the elderly, but surprisingly spry man in an unusually large (to Nioniel) blue hat.

Not understanding a word that has been spoken thus far besides those spoken by Galharth, the seamstress also steps forward - but looks helplessly at him as if to say, "What do I do?"

With the two of them off his person the eagle regains his feet, but doesn't take off simply ruffling a bit. He looks to the older man who has spoken to him. "A worthy service to the king elf-friend." he says as a response before turning back out to the elves. The avian this time speaks in the elvish tongue. "A fair wind blows upon this meeting." Raugsaul gives a nod to each before falling silent once more.

"Mae govannen." Mithrandir says in fluent lilting Sindarin as he greets Galharth. "If you would be so kind as to send greetings to your Lord and Lady from Gandalf the Grey I would be much obliged. Tell your March Wardens to also expect Rangers to enter these fair lands, for we have some pressing business to be about." Gandalf glances at the retreating form of Nioniel and arches one grizzled and hairy eyebrow from underneath his hat before he turns back to Galharth waiting for his responce.

Galharth's eyes grow wide as the old man speaks, for with the words come some level of understanding. Drawing his hand to his chest, he bows his head to acknowledge the greeting. "Word will indeed be sent, but news I am sure will not be a surprise to either the Lord or Lady." Lifting his head, a shadow of a smile dances upon the corners of his mouth. "I have discovered that visits from those either Celeborn or Galadriel hold dear or with respect is often known through some means well beyond those they guide." Nodding towards the Eagle, he adds, "You speak wisely, mellon, for certainly all good will come from this new meeting." Glancing the the newly arrived, he adds, "I am Galharth, Craftsmaster of Lothlorien, at your service..."

Turning to Nioniel, his expression softens. "Perhaps once we've seen to Lorien's guests, you might bring the requested word of those coming to Maglind at the borders."

Gandalf's chuckle at Galharth's words is appreciative, "Indeed that is true Galharth, Craftmaster of Lothorien, word does travel in...unusual ways. It has been far too long since I have visited your Lord and Lady, it will be a boon to me to speak with them again. How does the fair land of Lothorien stand?" Gandalf's piercing eyes regard Galharth and then Nioniel disconcertingly for a moment before they soften. "Have there been any usual goings on?" A vague question, but such is the wont and prerogative of wizards to ask.

Blinking, as if wonders will never cease this evening, Nioniel smiles a little now that the eagle and exceptionally strange looking man speak in words she can comprehend. Her eyes quickly dart away from the keen gaze of Gandalf, however and she blushes - perhaps feeling rather out of place and silly for her startled reaction compared to the calm of Galharth. To the tailor, she nods solemnly, "Yes, I will gladly do so if you think it best."

She offers no introduction of herself to the eagle and wizard, seemingly unsure of whether it is her place to speak to them at all at this point. She simply stands a little behind Galharth with her hands folded in front of her in respectful silence.

The Tailor's lower lip twitches slightly, as if to consider what news he might share. Finally, drawing his hands behind his back, he speaks. "We've had a fair share of visits from those unwelcome to the the Good Peoples of all we might call allies." He says with a flat voice that hints at dissatisfaction of sharing ill tidings. "Of late we've driven off a strange troll that wandered over the Mountain," pausing he sweeps a hand towards the Seamstress, "In fact this talented elleth is called hero for saving a valued Sentinel during the incident." Smiling at Nioniel he waits only a moment before returning his gaze to the newly arrived. "And before that, threats of attack from the East seem to have increased. I myself have been forced to kill many a beast to lend aid to our Guards."

Tilting his head, his crystal blue eyes focus upon the old man's hat before falling to peer into his eyes. "I supect you come not for news." He says, leaving it open for some information to be shared.

Gandalf nods his head grimly, "All of those tidings are grim, and perhaps they relate to my reasons for being here." Gandalf lapses into thought for a moment as he idly strokes his long white beard with one bony hand. "Indeed it is not precisely for news that I come, but tidings of import are always good to know. I am in search of a strange creature that I know only a little about. I have heard tales that he might be sulking about these parts. Have you any word of things going missing or strange sights or sounds in places where none should be?" Gandalf's gaze is again keen and interested.

Blushing deeply, Nioniel smiles bashfully and turns her head further away from the visitors after Galharth mentions her rescue of the Sentinel from the troll.

However, her gaze quickly shoots back to Gandalf as he speaks of the strange creature he seeks tidings of. To Galharth she casts a worried look, "I haven't heard anything of it... have you?" she asks fearfully.

"A strange creature?" Galharth asks with confusion, "Stange sights and sounds have been aplenty, but all applied to the visits from both troll and Orc." Hanging his head slightly, he pauses a moment before shaking his head. "I fear that I am not well versed in such matters. Perhaps the Commanders or one of the Marchwardens can give you the news you see."

Looking up, the crafters eyes flicker over the clothing of Lorien's new visitors, "Alas, if you should seek clothing repairs or perhaps a new robe, then it would be Nioniel or I that could help you."

Gandalf nods his head giving no sign of disappointment or of any reaction, "I will most certainly do that after I have paid my respects to your Lord and Lady." At Galharth's comment about his robe he glances down at his travel worn garment and frowns. "Perhaps it is time for a new robe. I think so little of such things." He says absentmindedly to himself. "I would be honored if you or Nioniel would make something new for me."

Nodding once, satisfaction dances within the Tailor's crystal blue eyes. "We'll be glad to see to your needs, as we both know it'll please our Lord and Lady. Bowing his head once more, Galharth takes a step towards the edge used to exit the Shelter. "Please feel free to relax upon the Long Lawn before moving towards the city. In the mean time, I'll send the word of your arrival."

With nothing further said, the Craftsmaster departs from the shelter, hurrying along to spead word of the new visitors.

Noticing the state of the visitor's clothing for the first time, Nioniel's eyes widen once more, as if truly shocked at their condition. They really are rather grubby looking, after all ... but the seamstress says nothing of that nature.

Clearing her throat softly, she steps forward enough to bow her head respectfully to both Gandalf and Raugsaul - trying her very clumsy best to be polite: "I welcome you both to Lorien, and am glad that you are come ... and I would be honored if I can be of any service to you during your stay."

Blushing deeply, she hurriedly steps back to take her leave after Galharth, hastily departing on her errand to seek out Maglind.