================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Dawn < About 5:53 AM >
IC day is: Oranor <Sun-day>
IC date is: 51 Iavas <Autumn>
Moon phase: Waxing Gibbous <HIDDEN>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 16 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3040>
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RL time: Wed Apr 11 10:58:01 2007
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Lawn
Here the stairway through the mellyrn meets the top of a mighty hill, opening out into the middle of a great lawn filled
with blue and yellow flowers. At the center of the lawn stands a great shimmering fountain which falls into a basin of
silver. From the basin flows a white stream of water out into a small brook, which then trickles away down the hill. Further
north there stands a mallorn tree of such magnificent height that it seems to reach even to the clouds. A path paved with
white pebbles curves around the hilltop, leading west and east from the stairs.

Contents:
Galharth
Ostiel
Arahisie
Legarwin
=====================================================================

Newborn light flashes over the eastern horizon as dawn makes it's presence known. Dew, still clinging to the vegetation and
lawn sparkles as diamonds as anor's light increases. No breeze blows this morning, and yet the fragrance of delicate flowers
growning upon the lawn seems to travel to all that might pass. It is quiet, as if nature itself awaits something to happen.

Entering the lawn, an ellon walks up the stairway, flinging a small net into the air. As the net waves slighting before
falling back into the ellon's hands, the Clothier adds whispering comments as if planning or plotting something.

Even in the early morn, edhil come and go from the Training Field of Caras Galadhon where skills are honed and lessons
taught. One of these ellyn who departs from the field and walks peacefully onto the lawn if the Commander. Legarwin's
sapphire eyes gaze into the East where Anor rises before turning towards the West where shadows fade into nothingness. Yet,
the stare of the Eldar does not stop wandering until it falls upon the Clothier. In a light, tenor voice he calls, "If you
seek to catch fish here, then your net will remain empty."

Not far away from Legarwin's traveling feet sits Ostiel in cross-legged position, eyes closed and face peacefully turned
toward the glowing dawn. The light reflects down onto her upturned face, highlighting an amused lift in her brows and lips
as the Commander's words sound out clearly, much more so than Galharth's self-conversational mutterings. Though she does not
turn to look, Ostiel's left ear cocks just slightly in the voices' direction, curiosity getting the better of serenity, if
even just a little.

As the net falls back into the clothiers hands, he pauses his tossing and turns his attention to the Commander. "Well met
Legarwin," Galharth says with a smile. "And it's not fish I seek to catch, but instead, I search for ideas." Glancing down
to look upon the net, he turns it around in his hands several times. Tossing the net towards Legarwin, he smiles. "Imagine
that net bigger, stronger, and perhaps sent towards you from a distance." Turning his glance, he smiles at he catches sight
of the Healer, "Or not sent to you, but perhaps towards Ostiel."

As the net is tossed towards him, the ellon extends his hand and takes ahold of an end which causes the rest of the material
to swing low and dangle. "Hmm...so you wish to capture the opposition? That is an interesting form of combat if battle is
what you have in mind." With his free hand, the Commander, takes ahold of another end to fully reveal the size of the
intertwined ropes. "How big did you have in mind?"

Up to this point Ostiel has not so much as peeked at the pair, but at the mention of herself and nets in the same breath,
the healer opens one lazy eye to glance at this work in question. "You fling that at me," she whispers after Legarwin's
inquiry, calmly and sweetly, "And you'll be pulling my hair out of it strand by strand, dear Clothier." Then she turns back
to the sky, and it is difficult to tell whether or not she truly spoke, such is her speed.

"The specifics, I have no firm idea yet as it's only now in the stage of conception," Galharth says with a shrug of his
shoulders. "We catch fish with nets, nets are used to capture poultry," he explains with a furrowed brow. Taking a step
closer to the Commander he holds his hand out to regain the net, "It seems reasonable that we could develop something to
capture, or perhaps slow down something like the Troll that recently encountered the youth Rhibi."

Pausing his discussion with the Commander, he turns in the direction of the Healer and offers a warm smile. "I jest dear
lady, instead it is for those such as yourself that I'm considering this net. Imagine, rather than to have to consider
defending yourself, you toss a net to slow a beast down enough so that those with skill to defeat it can do so without any
participation from those with a purer fea."

As he hands the net back, Legarwin continues to analyze it and the idea of the Clothier. He is silent for a time before
commenting, "To stop a troll with a net would be very impressive though what material would be able to withstand the
strength of one of the vile beasts, I do not know of." His eyes then turn to the Healer as he says, "Yet a net may be of use
to you in keeping those restless in the Healing talan from departing."

Laughter spills from Ostiel's lips gently and unobtrusively, not stirring the birds bathing in the stream nearby.
"Yes...perhaps it may, Legarwin. And your idea, Galharth, is quite creative. Indeed, I must say that you are both very
'imaginative'." With this she gives up on tranquil meditation and turns toward the two ellons, looking up at them with
mischievious, sparkling gaze.

Turning back to Legarwin, Galharth shakes his head. "Perhaps not stop, but distract, and possibly hinder, long enough for a
warrior of some skill to vanquish," the clothier explains. At the Commanders last words, he chuckles. "Aye, I had mentioned
certain Healers have travelled moreso than I, so possibly there are many uses for a net.

Tsksing to the Healer he folds his arms, "Does not our imagination and creativity place us well above others upon Middle
Earth? I am no warrior, but I do like to add flare into anything I do."

As the Commander is about to speak, a Warden appears from the training fields moving with a quick pace towards him. Legarwin
tunrs his gaze to the other for a moment as a message is whispered to him. With a nod, the subordinate departs allowing the
Aderthad to address the those present. "If you will excuse me, there seems to be an issue that requires my attention at the
Training Field. Navarie." As the Quenyan word is spoken, the ellon turns and departs after the Warden.

"Of course, Legarwin." Ostiel rises gracefully to her feet even as the Commander strides away, smoothing out the folds of
her gown, watching Galharth with wise eyes, as if seeing something not physically visible that draws thoughtful attention.
Her silence only lasts a moment however, and as Legarwin disappears, she inquires warmly of the Clothier, "Walk with me,
mellon?"

"Perhaps we can speak later, Legarwin!" Galharth calls out as the Commander departs. Taking a deep breath and twirling the
small net upon his finger, he turns to give his full attention to the Healer. "Of course, Ostiel, I'd be pleased to walk
with you? Tell me, is there a destination to which we walk, or shall we just enjoy the rising sun and fragrant flowers?"

"Well," Ostiel muses, tapping her nose with long index finger, "You seemed to be going somewhere before you were waylaid, or
at least you appeared to be. Is that true? For in such case we can travel to your destination."

"Honestly, I just wander aimlessly," the Clothier says as he continues to twirl the small net. "I do that sometimes when my
mind wanders." Glancing around the lawn, he shrugs his shoulders. "Here is fine, now that my thoughts are now grounded."
Returning his gaze to the lady, he smiles. "So tell me, what are you thoughts on the use of a net? Would it harm the
delicate nature of your fea?"

"Delicate?" Both of the lady's eyebrow's fly up in suprise and wry amusement, and though she had begun to walk, now she
stops and looks slightly up at Galharth with tilted head. "There is nothing delicate about my fea, or any other healers. To
impart strength to others one must be strong."

Still holding the net in one hand, he lifts both hands and pats them palm outwards defensively. "Nay, you misunderstand what
I mean by delicate, dear lady," the clothier says quickly in response. "I speak more of the purity your fea has, and the
many things that might affect it, and with that your ability to perform your skills of healing."

Shaking his head, he mutters softly under his breath. "From what Mia has told me, purity must be maintained, and exposure
to, or participation in, acts of destruction or violence can darken your fea. It is a delicate balance is it not?"

Ostiel stares uncomprehendingly up at the Clothier for a long moment, then, slowly, begins to blush. Reaching out, she
gently tugs downward on the empty hand, soft face apologetic. "Forgive me, I did indeed misunderstand. Indeed, to practice
healing with clarity one must abstain from damaging practices, such as combat." With a quick sigh she drops Galharth's hand
and begins to glide forward again, "However, this net is not a weapon, but a tool of strategy, when used correctly."

"This is what I was thinking." Galharth says, lowering his hands. "Mia lamented over wanting to do something, and yet being
prevented from doing so as a result of her current path in life." Gripping a fist around the net, he lifts it up and looks
at it carefully. "Her situation is delicate and it seemed to me that we elves are very capable with their weapons, but that
is not our strongest attribute. Our minds, experience, and ability to create are uniquely superior to anything that any
other people might create."

Chuckling softly, he lowers his hand. "Granted, this idea might not work due to my inexperience with the foe our warriors
encounter, I'm that enough effort will eventually lead to something useful."

"Aye," Ostiel agrees, tiptoeing around a young golden flower, "As I said before, I think it a very creative notion, if a bit
unwieldy. And, if I may say so, that is a fine net." As to discussing Mia, well, she does not approach the subject, merely
nodding when Galharth speaks on it, and nothing more.

"If anything, the effort to develop something hopefully will justify the Lady's granting me a promotion." Shrugging his
shoulders, he twirls the net. "It'll require speaking with those who might use the net, and those that know something about
the target of the net. Someday, perhaps I'll find something easy that uses only that which I already know." Smiling at the
Healer, Galharth lifts a brow. "So, tell me, would you be aprehensive about using a larger net that is deployed with a toss
or perhaps with a bow?"

"...Yes, to the bow. It is indeed a fine line the Cuigrithweg dance upon, and I am cautious to approach the subject. But I
believe I would have to refuse both." Ostiel stops near a large bush and bends down to sniff at it, smiling, as if sharing
some delightful secret with earthy spirit within. "You are eager to earn your status, and that is natural, but I do not
believe it would have been granted without your merit having been already proven, Galharth. There is much about yourself
that you do not see, and cannot, for we are all inward beings, and unable to observe ourselves from another's eyes."

"Fine line yes, but I seek to know the line so that something can be developed to aid in the protection of our people."
Glaharth says thoughtfully. "The use of a bow, I can understand if the bow was ever used to do harm in it's history, but I
can not understand the throwing of a net that distracts." He pauses and looks down to the ground below the bush that draws
the healers attention. "The net in itself causes no harm, yet allows others to step forward to protect those who's fea must
remain pure, while giving the pure time to retreat and move far from harm and violence." Looking up, in search of Ostiel's
attention. "Can you give me insight dear lady?"

Ostiel says, "Hmmm..." With a final caress to curling leaves Ostiel straightens, crossing her arms in thought. "I imagine
the intent of the user would determine the damage a net could inflict. I certainly would not toss it onto something small,
for it could easily suffocate. I do not much like the idea of anything involving conflict, and do not take to the thought.
But there are certain to be others who disagree.""

"Say you were traveling to visit our Kindred in Imladhrim, and a troll came upon the party while half the warriors were out
scouting. Would you then deploy the net, and run to safety?" Galharth says as he crosses his hands across his chest. "The
intent is not harm, but to escape harm. Certainly, there is a high chance that elven warriors will do harm to whatever might
be trapped, but it is not of your doing, for the beast has an equal chance of getting free and escaping. In this type
situation, how would a healer feel?"

"As I said," Ostiel murmurs gently, "I can only speak for myself...and I would throw the net, of course, to save a life. But
I cannot say whether or not I would do it reluctantly, for I have never been placed in such a position." Peering up at
Galharth, the Cuigrithweg smiles slightly, then laughs, just a bit. "You are very intense. Is this a personal issue for
you?"

"Personal? Nay, far from it." Galharth says with a half smile. "I do nothing if not without intensity." Tucking the small
net inside his robe, he takes a step away from the healer. "Perhaps I need to develop it furture before toying with the
possibility of a healer using it."

"Perhaps," Ostiel replies non-commitally, moving along toward the other side of the lawn with both arms swinging casually at
her sides.

"I'll see you later dear lady," Galharth says as he steps away, and disappears down the stairwell.