================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Late Morning < About 11:49 AM >
IC day is: Ormenel <Heavens-day>
IC date is: 27 Rhiw <Winter>
Moon phase: Last Quarter <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: Thu May 10 12:56:43 2007
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Healing Talan
This hushed talan is a quiet place of healing for those Galadhrim injured in
battle. White robed Quendi, one wearing a bracelet, easily walk about, tending
to visitors, offering refreshments, and various other small jobs. Meanwhile
patients lie on comfortable, sparkling pads, gazing out at a sweeping view of
the wood. Sunlight streams though the leaves of the mellyrn, casting dancing
shadows on the wooden floor. The air has a fresh, clean feeling. You feel better
just resting here for a moment.
Contents:
Galharth
Losse (Galadriel)
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An elder elleth enters the healing talan with a basket over her arm. A pleasant
smell of fresh-baked goodness wafts out from beneath a towel covering the
basket.
Sitting on his cot, with his arms folded over his chest, the clothier stares out
of the talan towards the gardens below. While still not quite healed, he is
clearly healed enough to the point that the isolation and lack of activity is
wearing on his nerves.
As someone enters, Galharth turns his head. For a moment he peers a the elleth,
and recognition flickers in his eyes. "Well met, Losse," he says softly as his
eyes drop to the basket she carries. At the sight of the contents, he turns his
head once more to peer out at the Gardens.
Losse moves about the perimeter of the talan, studying every cabinet, vial, and
curtain with a discriminating eye. If she likes what she sees, it is not evident
in her statuesque countenance. When she comes at last to the cot on which
Galharth sits, she places the basket nonchalantly beside him. The scent of
freshly baked, buttery pastry and berries lingers innocently in the air. "Still
here then?" she queries. "I hear tell that many a split seam and frayed hem wait
on your doorstep." Her tone is somehow challenging, but not too obviously.
A soft throaty growl mingled with the words 'I know', is the response given for
the mention of the work that awaits the clothier. "Sitting her doing nothing
only makes my arm weaker. I need out," Turning his gaze, nay, his glare, towards
a nearby Attendant, he frowns deeply.
His mood lasts only a moment, and he sighs softly as he turns to the elder.
"Tell me, what brings you and your delightful smelling pastries to the Healing
Talan? Certainly there has got to be more pleasant company elsewhere within the
wood."
Long distance to Mia: Galharth growls... bait me with potential RP????? As an
info gathering tool???? Soooooo cruel!
Flittering her white fingers in the air, Losse demurs, "Pleasant company is so
boring. I came for a rowdy tale. Tell me about the troll."
Galharth shrugs his unbandaged shoulder. "The Marchwarden Haldir could tell you
more than I," he says as he shifts slightly on the cot, "It was as I've heard a
Troll would be, large, ugly, and foul to all senses." Unclenching his arms, he
lowers his hands to his lap. "What was odd about this one, was the fact that it
stood within the light of day, and spoke with some level of intelligence. It
seemed to carry on a conversation with the Marchwarden as they fought."
Perhaps it is unseemly for a lady, but Losse does not seem to be stirred by the
telling of the troll's horridness. Her line of question is matter-of-fact and
scientific, "Do you recall if the brute had any identifying marks: tattoos,
symbols. A crest perhaps?"
"Nay, no markings. His skin seemed as thick and sturdy as stone" Galharth says
shaking his head. "He wore not but pants, even in the face of winters cold."
Rolling his shoulders, and wincing at the discomfort, he frowns. "I recall one
thing. The beast was missing a portion of his right ear I think." Again the
clothier sighs softly and looks directly at Losse, "Again I say, it is Haldir
who could tell you more. I am not but a Tailor and I assure you, I was far
outside my expertise during the battle."
Losse waves off Galharth's insistence, "I would not trust Haldir to give me the
whole truth. The Lady employs he and his brothers to protect us from such
dangers as the truth. But I wonder where this monstrosity came from. Surely it
has a master. Intelligent or no, it is surely commanded by the designs of
another." She remains strangely detached for a Dinlom elder as she falls into
momentary silent thought. "I do not fret for our safety, for I know the borders
would devour such a beast if it came to that. But I fear the larger plan here,
and if more will come...." She turns her cool eyes upon Galharth and sighs a
little. "But forgive my curiousity. Most of all, I am glad that you and the rest
returned home to us."
"Haldir would hide the truth?" Galharth asks, clearly dumbstruck by the very
thought of such things. Dropping his gaze to his hands, he falls silent for a
moment.
"You ask much that I can not hope to tell. The troll is the same that faced
Rhibi and Annaiel weeks past, so I assumed it followed them here." Glancing up
once, and then back down again, it is visibly clear that the elders implied
words have distressed the clothier. "Thank you," he finally replies to her final
words.
Losse smiles a little for the first time, in a motherly gentle way. "I speak too
lightly. Perhaps 'hide' is not the right word. The wardens have been known to
pad and disguise the truth with a layer of comfort, hope, and reassurance. And
such hope is not in vain, but I prefer a more simplistic approach." She reaches
to remove the towel that covers the still warm pastries, "Here, think on it not
for a while. Perhaps these treats will bring you some ease." Losse continues,
"it was ill-mannered of me to ask such questions in a place of healing. I will
leave you be for now."
Innocence reflects on the face and in the eyes of the clothier as he gazes at
Losse. "When I pad a garment, it is to hide a flaw, or to disguise that which is
not appealing when subject to inspection." Galharth says softly, dropping his
gaze. Looking up slightly as the pastries are revealed, he nods his head softly
as he reaches in to liberate one from the elder's care. "Thank you, Losse," he
says simply as he cradles the treat within his hands. Glancing up as she makes
mention of leaving, he smiles. "Be well Lady, I'm sure I'll see you again soon."