================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Late Morning < About 10:53 AM >
IC day is: Ormenel <Heavens-day>
IC date is: 69 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>
----------------------------------------------------------------------
RL time: Thu May 24 12:37:53 2007
=====================================================================
Long Lawn
You stand amidst a long lawn of shining grass. It ripples in the gentle river breezes like tresses of golden hair, sprinkled
too with hundreds of golden elanor flowers which radiate with the light of the sun. The eastern edge of the lawn fades into
a white-stone beach, lapped upon by the deep and dark waters of the broad Anduin river which flows from the north,
continuing southwards forever onto the sea. Joining the Anduin directly to the south is the Celebrant river, which hurries
towards you from between the groves of Mallorns to the northwest. Northwards, the lawn is bordered by a high green wall of
dense forest growth. With your sharp elven eyes, you spy a small recess in the wall, perhaps a passageway which leads
through it.

Contents:
Galharth
Galadriel

Winters difused light heralds late morning over the river's choppy waters. A cooler than average breeze sweeps over the
water, slipping into a strangely warmer climate within the borders of the elven land of Lothlorien. A mist swirls over the
lands across the river, or perhaps the winds bring up dancing ice crystals as nature refuses to release the lands beyond
from it's wintery grip.

Upon the shore, the silvery haired clothier looks out over the water with unfocused eyes. He seems deep in thought as the
breeze dances around him. In his hands he holds a strange piece of wood, and this thumbs gently stroke over the water
damaged surface.

"You seem much consumed," comes a voice suddenly, though not jarring, like it were born of these same mists.

Shaken from his thoughts, Galharth turns to the Lady's words. Confusion seems deeply set within his eyes, and he takes
several moments before he answers. "Perhaps a little." the clothier admits, "I was thinking of the discovery that lays on
the bottom of the river."

Glancing down to look upon the wood within his hands, he frowns. "You had mentioned searching for information," he says
softly, "Did you find anything?"

The Lady glances at the piece of wood before her eyes travel out towards the water, "I have consulted the longest memories
within our borders and none can recall a shipwreck in these waters. Have any ventured again into the waters; perhaps to find
more clues or pieces?"

Galharth shakes his head. "To my knowledge, none but I have searched below the surface." Releasing his left hand he holds
the wood up with his right hand. "And even with that, I only retrieved this because it was caught upon my net." Turning back
towards the waters, he looks to the spot where he knows the item lies. "I could arrange something if you wish."

A slight movement of the Lady's thin shoulders suggests her ambivalence, "To what I end I wonder? If the vessel has not been
missed, will it be gladly received?" She considers the glassy gray waters in silence, "Though a boat did once bear a
silmaril...." A long pause. "Seems like little harm could come from finding out at least whether or not is elven-made."

The clothier's right brow lifts with curiosity at the possibilities of what lays below the surface. "With only this," he
says with a nod towards the wood held in his hands, "We have no means to even guess.

Falling silent, Galharth focuses upon the wood. "It is strange, but it stays within my thoughts as if it calls a reminder of
it's presence." Shrugging his shoulders, he glances up towards the Lady curiously. "If indeed it dates back to the days of
the silmaril's then the fact that it still remains somewhat intact speaks of craftsmenship that could only be elven. I would
indeed like to check again."

The Lady herself cannot hide the note of curiousity that plays in her eyes. "You are free to do as you like," she says, now
with forced ambivalance. "I would only ask that you do not try it alone. The waters can be swift and bottom is dark."