8/10/2008

================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Midnight < About 12:07 AM >
IC day is: Orithil <Moon-day>
IC date is: 14 Iavas <Autumn>
Moon phase: Full <HIDDEN>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 20 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3044>
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RL time: Sun Aug 10 11:42:38 2008
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Common Room

This large and rectangular room serves the purpose of Common Room for the Prancing Pony. Large windows along the western end
of the room peek out over the Great East Road which runs outside the Inn. There are long tables with bench seats for the
patrons in the centre of the room. Nestled into the wall is a large fireplace with several bundles of wood piled next to it.
Overhead, lamps hang down from roof beams, but their light is dim and half-veiled in smoke. The corners of the room are
wrapped in shadow.

Contents:
Galharth
Tirilalaith

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With a face still decorated with fading bruises, the Tailor Galharth makes his way to the strangely open table in which the
elleth Tirilalaith sits. "Well met, and good eve, Tirilalaith, may I join you?" He asks softly as he moves to take a seat
next to the elleth. As he stands beside the seat, he lifts a brow as he waits politely for a response.

Her gaze lifts, head tilting slightly as Galharth approaches. "Of course," she returns, her voice soft in the midst of the
rowdy crowd. A hand gestures to the chair, granting him permission to sit even as she inclines her head deeply in greeting.
"I hope you are not hungry. I regret to say that I have no stomach for what passes as food by human standards." Her
attention returns to the goblet of wine, her nose wrinkling ever so slightly in distaste. "Nor drink..."

"Take the lead from the Carpenter Aeglirhaeron." Galharth says softly as he settles into the seat. Turning to look at the
antics of various humans, he smiles. "Apples, berries, and whatever fruit that might be served." Drawing his gaze back to
the elleth, he chuckles softly at her wrinkled nose. "The wine is far from perfect, and seems more an experiment of a child
who considers an adult pursuit." He says as he turns to lift a hand to draw the attention of a the staff. "But if you
consider it carefully, then one does realize that they are but children in comparison to our own Vintner's who've had
hundreds of years to perfect the wines they make."

In response to the firstborn's raised hand, a tired woman arrives. "What can I git ya?" she shouts out over the sounds of
the other patrons.

"Wine," the Tailor says firmly, "A bottle if you please."

"Oh I know that we should give them some leniency. They cannot help what they are and what they do not know. Still..." The
elleth shakes her head slightly, sending platinum strands shivering. "Our next journey we will most certainly have to make
note to bring more of our own making that we need not suffer so." There is a mild note of play in her voice. As the barmaid
arrives, Tiri lifts her gaze to regard her, studying the woman openly before turning her attention again to the game. "It is
strange. The more they drink, the wilder their shots and yet no one seems concerned."

Turning his own attention to the game of Darts, the Tailor tilts his head and watches for several moments. "I suppose as
long as they aren't hitting eachother, all is well." Galharth finally says as he watches a thrown dart strike the wall next
to the target. "It looks to be an easy enough game to play." he comments slowly as he reaches for his wine. Lifting the
glass to his lips he sips. Within moments his face pinches at the flavor, but he quickly recovers and looks to the glass
carefully. "I can't say that I've had worse than this. Perhaps the Mulled Wine would have been a better choice."

Tirilalaith muses over Galharth's thoughts on the game, her eyes following the flight of the dart each time it leaves a
player's hand. At the sudden change in expression, she turns her head towards him, unable to quell the smile that bows her
lips. "I have been told that if we drink enough, we'll not notice the taste. Of course, the hard part seems to be suffering
the drinking to get to that point." The elleth sobers abruptly, her gaze intent on the elf beside her. "How do you feel? You
do appear to be recovering well enough..."

Taking another sip, and swallowing hard, the Tailor clears his throat. "What is the point of drinking if one is not tasting?
I fear that might be another human oddity that might take a few hundred years to fully understand." Galharth says with a
voice that cracks from the bitterness of the wine. "Perhaps we should see if the Minister has any personal supplies with
her," he says while looking at the glass again. "If only to clear the taste of this."

Looking back to the Dart game, he tilts his head again. "Perhaps if the crowd passes out, or wanders away, we can play a
match to test our own skills at this game."

The elleth considers that for a moment, nodding slowly. "Perhaps she will have had the foresight that we did not," the
female agrees. Slender fingers outstretch, nudging her wine further away from her lest the vile taste somehow find its way
into her. "Why must we wait?" she inquires, her gaze lifting to the abused Tailor. "To play, I mean. To save face, I
suppose, if we are not skilled. But would that not aide us in our relations with the humans? For them to know that we are
fallible?" It is a question of true curiosity from the elleth, uncertain whether her reasoning is sound or foolish.

"You're reasoning is sound, but I fear it's me that is not ready." Galharth says with a slight frown. Putting the glass down
on the table, it almost seems as if the Tailor's coloring is growing pale. "I fear I still suffer from some dizziness from
the attack, and this wine seems to have worked against me to turn my stomach." Swallowing hard, he looks to the elleth. "I
think perhaps I'll need to return to our rooms for a little while."

Concern washes over the elleth's face as he speaks. She pushes her chair back, rising to her feet with enviable grace. "Let
me escort you. Not that you need it, but I would be angered with myself should anything untoward happen along the way. The
humans are cautiously friendly for the most part, but they are irrational and hasty and prone to violence..." Not that she'd
be much protection anyway. "Perhaps I can look over Ostiel's herbs and help you find one to settle your stomach and calm the
effects of the wine..."