8/25/2008

================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Early Afternoon < About 2:09 PM >
IC day is: Ormenel <Heavens-day>
IC date is: 1 Firith <Fading>
Moon phase: Waxing Crescent <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: Mon Aug 25 09:43:07 2008
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The Imladris Library

Before you is the center of scholarly study within the Vale of Elrond, and the labyrinthine ways of shelves and desks hold a
myriad of books. The library seems centered about the area before you, the shelves extending outward from it. Within its
center is a large oaken table surrounded by many wooden chairs. A few books lay scattered randomly about the table, and
spaced evenly across it are quills and bottles of coloured ink and spare pieces of blank parchment. A large bookstand
holding a massive volume stands out off to the side before the Librarian's desk, and below it a few other large books rest
in their respective shelves of the stand. Off in back of the library rest a few large cushioned chairs, centered around a
large stand whereupon an index of the library may be found. Far to the left is what appears to be a seperate section of the
Library, off the main rotunda.

Contents:
Galharth
Lithiugelir



Morning is an excellant time to come to the library rooms of Imladris. Although elves do not sleep, they too are to some
degree active in cycles influenced by the sun and moon. Therefor, many are out in the sunshine or otherwise active rather
than being here, in the library at such an hour.

So upon entering into this great room, all is quiet. There are a couple of folk about, doing things quietly. There are
plush, comfortable chairs scattered about, and a few tables as well. An elleth over there speaking with an ellon very softly
over a tomb, and back there a man leaning over a table with a map laid out upon it.

Seemingly caught in his own world, for indeed he might well be when it comes to his obsessions, the Tailor Galharth moves
from the shelves carrying a large leather bound tomb. With the book cover open, the ellon walks slowly, moving between the
tables and chairs as if guided by some uncommon radar. Moving to the back of the library, he looks up as he approaches the
last table. Surprise filters over his expression at the sight of the man. "Ah, well met, mellon." The Craftmaster says in a
soft tone, "I had thought this table empty when last I looked, but is seems my wandering among the shelves has passed a
goodly number of hours. May I join you so perhaps we can endulge our individual pursuits whilst also discussing a mutual
one."

Lithiugelir glances up at the tall ellon's approach. Glimpsing Galharth's rather unusual, silvery hair, the Dunadan at once
recognizes the other and smiles in greeting. His hands at once begin to carefully roll up the large parchment he as looking
at, or rather, release it to begin to softly roll itself up.

"Of course you are most welcome. There is table enough." And a hand moves to gesture in invitation to Galharth to join him.

A dark brow arches at the elf, voice low and soft in his tenor, "A mutual one?"

Laying the tomb upon the table, the Tailor manuvers so to lower himself into a seat across from the Ranger. "Thank you," he
mutters softly as he settles. "You said you wished to discuss Bree? It is a mutual interest as I'd very much like to tell
what I know."

Opening the book, a artfully drawn picture of a ship is revealed. Extending a finger towards the page, the Craftmaster
slowly outlines the ship as if considering its design. "I can begin at a chance meeting in a sewing shop in Bree," he says
in a distracted tone. Pausing his finger, he looks up. "It might begin as seeming to be a silly fancy of a crafter, but it
does indeed lead somewhere."

Still standing, the Dunadan watches Galharth take a seat. His own gaze has slipped over the tailor's clothing appriciatively
but he makes no comment. Turning, the harper selects a pair of small weights from the shelves next to the map cases. Using
these, he begins to unroll the map and place the weights accordingly so that he will not have to hold the parchment open by
hand.

Pale, silvery grey eyes glance back up from the map to the ellon and a faint nod, "Please, go on. No need to apologize sir,
as I have my own craft I enjoy pursuit of myself. My music." Lith smiles, "Indeed yes, I would hear what you have to say of
Bree."

As it happens, the map he is looking at is a section of Eriador, though not Bree. It is the Shaws area.

Another Man of the West steps into the spacious Imladris Library, but not from the hall outside. Rhifaroth enters from the
smaller section where the older manuscripts are stored. His hands are empty and without books, but he walks with the barest
hint of a limp over to one of the several desks tucked here and there and opens the main drawer, looking for something.

Ah yes, loose sheets of parchment are easily found. Inkwell and quill are already upon the desk.

Drawing out a chair, Rhifaroth takes a seat and prepares writing materials. The librarian though, she raises her head and
watches the new arrival for a moment carefully.

Nodding once, the Tailor's hand lifts from the tomb before him to sweep towards the rolled up map. "Beware traps, obvious,
yet some that might tempt." he says softly. The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile, and he adds, "Though I'd not think one
of your people needs warned of such things."

Drawing his hand back to the tomb, and the picture of the ship, he again begins to finger the drawing, moving slowly over
the ships figurehead. "Ah Bree, let me begin...." he says, letting his words trail as his eyes grow distant in thought. "It
was a chance meeting really. I entered a sewing shop in search of trinkets, and came away with a curiosity. There was this
young woman, Cordelia who happened to enter the shop. When she did, all others poured forth accusations of the most dire
nature." Frowning slightly as his finger rests upon the picture near the figureheads head, he pauses. "It is most difficult
to assume that a woman of her sort could be guilty of such deeds, especially when she mentioned that a Strider had
questioned and released her. Trusting his judgement, I volunteered to find proof so that she might walk without the shadow
of accusation."

Once more the Dunadan glances up from his map he is refreshing himself with at Galharth's odd comment. But then he smiles a
little, saying nothing.

The harper waits and listens, though Lithiugelir shows only causual interest until Strider's name is mentioned. Then he
glances up yet again from the map. This time he continues watching the ellon, listening much more attentively now, "Yes?" he
prompts, "Will you tell me what these accusations are, and what proofs, if any you have located?"

"The accusations are murder, conspiring to do harm, kidnapping, and the hurt set upon the one called Seeker." Galharth says
softly, pausing to look around the library to see if anyone is looking. Catching sight of the injured Ranger, the Tailor's
brow furrows. Turning back to Harper, he shakes his head. "She is a slight woman, and seemingly too daft to be of much harm.
At her urging, I went to speak with her sister, and it was then that I was drawn to suspicion for the details given by the
child hinted that Cordelia was being manipulated much like a puppet who dances to the song of its master."

Taking no particular notice of those around him, Rhifaroth has lowered his head and is writing something down upon the
parchment. He continues to sit at the desk, concentrating on whatever task it is that he has set himself. The Librarian does
not disturb him, but she glances up often to keep an eye on the man. There is no sign of an attending healer, nor the man's
wife.

A slow nod, though Lith's own dark brows begin to furrow, "I know not anyone called ..." but then the harper hesitates,
thinking... and noticing Galharth's own distraction, glances in the same direction to see what might have caught the ellon's
attention. Seeing Rhifaroth there, the name Seeker makes connection suddenly. Lithiugelir looks back to Galharth, his own
voice quite low so not to carry, "I see."

No longer paying his map more than courtesy attention, the Dunadan stands quietly a moment before he asks in the same barely
audible voice, "What does this woman look like, and who is her master? Do you know?"

"She is a young thing, a child really, though most can be considered such by the firstborn. Pale of skin, with long dark
black hair that hangs straight. She has brown eyes, and stands out among the Breefolk. Her nose is slightly out of place,
due to malformation or perhaps injury." Galharth describes softly, as his eyes stare into the wall as if focused upon some
distant memory. "Do I know her true master? No, I can not say for certain, but when she admitted that she was being
controlled by she who brought her sister to her, I thought that enough to bring her to the Rangers for additional review."

Shaking his head, his hand reaches up to touch the back of his neck. "She mentioned a name, and I fear I reacted poorly and
placed the controling woman with one I've met before. Before any sense could be made, I found myself face down and out in
the mud."

The last bit of information causes the Harper to raise both black brows at once, "You were attacked?" Lith keeps his voice
low but glances around the library before continuing, "She may not be as harmless as you suggest if she caught you
unawares." A thoughtful pause, frowning. Galharth certainly has Lithiugelir's undivided attention now.

"What name? If she is not of Bree, then do you know where she is from?" Then he adds, "Did she flee after accosting you,
sir?"

Having completed the first sheet of parchment, Rhifaroth sets it aside to dry, and takes out another sheet to write upon.
The man is seated too distant from the others to make out what he is writing, but it perks the curiousity of the Librarian
who stands up from her station to walk over towards the tattooed Dunadan.

Drawing near, she speaks to him in a low voice after touching the man's shoulder very lightly. Rhifaroth, or Seeker as some
know him, glances up and listens to her. The man appears to have his wits for the moment, then nods. Finding a smaller,
trimmed scrap of parchment in another drawer, he jots down a quick note for the elleth and hands it to her.

Reading it, the elleth grows surprised and exlaims a bit more loudly, "Your wife can not read??" That seems shocking to one
who's life is so completely focused upon the preservation of the writen word here.

Nodding, the color in his face rises slightly, hinting of embarrassment. "Indeed, she had seduced a young man to do her
bidding, and while distracted with her before me, he hit me from behind. Once knocked out, it seems they took the liberty to
take out a few frustrations as I was left with a number of foot shaped bruises as the price for not paying attention."
Galharth says quickly in a low tone. Moving his hand from behind his head, he hangs his head slightly, sending forth a
shower of silver hair to cover his expression.

"Cordelia and her sister are from Buhr Mahrling, and the woman that presses down some control over their actions is a woman
by the name of Mara." As he speaks, the Craftmasters voice cracks slightly at the mention of Mara. "I have met a Mara
before, a controling one with little humanity left in her blackened heart...."

There is compasion and sympathy for the ellon in his own eyes, and anger too maybe, that anyone would do such a thing.
Especially a young person. "Who was the other, do you know? What happened to them? Are they still in Bree?"

Listening further, Lithiugelir frowns but doesn't seem to recognise the name "Buhr Mahrling", nor the name of 'Mara' but he
is paying close attention. As he is able here, he can cross reference these names to see if he can find anything. Names
might, for example, extend from a specific language - not only of places, but for people too.

Then a slow nod, "I appriciate your information, sir. I depart shortly for Bree myself. The more I know, the better."

The seated man writes something more for the Librarian and shows it to her as well. The elleth nods and smiles, "Of course,
I'd be delighted to assist. Just bring her to the library during my shifts and I shall speak with her." A sympathetic for
the man who can not speak with his wife, and who's wife can not read what he writes. Then, the Librarian adds, "If you need
anything, please let me know." She excuses herself and returns to her own duties, keeping an occational glance for the man
should he blank out.

A nod in turn from Rhifaroth, who turns about at the desk and resumes what he was doing before.

Clearing his throat, Galharth looks up to Harper, and nods. "I know not what else I can tell you, for I have no proof that
the Mara that I knew from my own capture by Orc is the same Mara that brought Cordelia's sister as a means to control the
young woman's actions." Looking down to the book, a frown is evident on the Craftmasters face. "I have only suspicions based
on a connection that I can not seem to release from my own experiences."

"Of course, I understand, sir." Says Lithiugelir. "Who is this sister? Does she have a name? Do you know the name of this
young man this Cordelia has influenced?" The harper continues in a low voice but a little more causually than before. Lith
skims long fingers over the map he was looking at before, still faintly frowning, "How is this man..." he lowers his voice
further, glancing up towards Rhifaroth, then back to the tailer, "this 'Seeker' connect to all of this? He is here, not in
Bree."

"The child's name is Liuni, and the young man who hit me from behind is Keldean. The young man has since turned himself in
and returned my sword he stole." Galharth says softly. On the questions about Seeker, the Tailor turns to look at Rhifaroth.
"Perhaps you should speak with him yourself. I know not why he was taken captive, nor what he told his captors, but I do
know that is he who sits here within this Library."

Lithiugelir has turned away to find a charcoal writing stick and a bit of parchment from one of the desks himself, and
writes down the names... or at least how they sound. There are several to remember. He glances back up from this task to
look at Galharth at the mention of the other man here in the library.

Straightening, the harper considers this, "Yes, I think I will."

Thinking upon this, Lith returns his attention to Galharth, "I thank you for this information, and your taking the time to
pass it onto me. I have only just returned through the High Pass and have been absent from these lands these past two years.
There is much I must catch up with here." And his own brethern to seek out to speak to.

The man they speak of has glanced up from his writing as though to consider some passing thought of his own, but ... then
sits there, very still, not doing anything. Rhifaroth's writing has been forgotten as he has drifted off wherever his mind
slips away to, at times.

"I hope in some manner I've helped, though there are others better informed who might have a better grasp of what might be
fact or fancy in what I've said." Galharth says as he rises to his feet. "Let it be here that our paths cross, as you head
west and I east. Be well, mellon, perhaps our paths will cross again soon."

With that, the Craftmaster abandons his book and heads out of the library, leaving all to wonder what caused the silver
haired ellon to move so quickly.

The harper-ranger nods and watches the other rise and depart, but almost at once his pale gaze has slipped to settle upon
the other Dunadan, thoughtfully. His map all but forgotten, Lithiugelir removes the weights and rolls it back up, putting
things back. Another time for maps, perhaps.