================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Nighttime < About 10:36 PM >
IC day is: Orithil <Moon-day>
IC date is: 23 Ethuil <Spring>
Moon phase: Full <VISIBLE>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 17 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3041>
----------------------------------------------------------------------
RL time: Wed Jun 20 16:32:07 2007
=====================================================================
Before Orthanc -- Rath Tarma: Harnarth
Your sight pierces the darkness...Here stands a tower of marvellous shape. It was fashioned by the builders of old who smoothed the Ring of Isengard, and yet it seems a thing not made by the craft of Men, but riven from the bones of the earth in the ancient torment of the hills. A peak and isle of rock it is, black and gleaming hard: four mighty piers of many-sided stone are welded into one, but near the summit they open into gaping horns, their pinnacles sharp as the points of spears, keen-edged as knives. Between them is a narrow space where a man might stand 500' above the plain. This is Orthanc, the citadel of Saruman, the name of which has a twofold meaning; in the elvish speech _Orthanc_ signifies Mount Fang, but in the language of the Mark of old, the Cunning Mind.

Roads spoke out from the center piece, in each of the cardinal directions. While a smaller road wraps itself sungly around the tower in search of the entrance. Light from high windows gives hint as to life within this monolith.

Contents:
Galharth
Galaslagor
=====================================================================

Off the path, near the base of the rising tower, the elves of Lothlorien are settling in for the night. The sky is as black as the tower, and the stars peering through the clouds reflect upon the inky black surface, creating a wonderous sight. On the outter edge of the camp, Galharth stands peering up at the tower, searching for some sign of the resident residing within.

Night takes over Isengard, as Galaslagor, Maethyr O Lorien, sits beside a tent. His lower torso is covered with bandages, yet light ones, and his head is hooded and clad in gray. His bow sits beside him, keeping him company in a way, stringed and ready to be used, yet the user may not be ready to use it just yet. He groans slightly as he stands up and walks over to the Clothier. "Alas, poor Galaslagor the Fool! What remains, other than a foolish coward. Tell me, for I have no remembrance of what happened the night of..." He stops, unable to proceed.

Turning to the sound of a voice, Galharth smiles with sympathy. "Worry not Galaslagor, from what I've been told you are no coward. If anything, you are fortunate to be alive." Pausing his words, the clothier looks towards the imposing tower. "If you are to know more, I fear that you'll have to wait for Maglind to speak. Only you and he faced the trials of the Uruk that night."

Again the words are paused, but only for a moment. "I'm anxious to speak with Curunr and be on our way home." Galharth mutters.

Deep, gray eyes follow the Tailor's gaze, and Galaslagor's sight is set upon Orthanc. "I am not skilled in the lore of the days of old, yet it was the hand of the Numenreans that built Orthanc, is it not?" He inquires.

Galharth chuckles softly as he turns to look upon the Sentinel. "You ask me such things? Ask me of the origins of buttons, or perhaps the process for preparing silk for spinning into fabric, and I might reveal my secrets, but...." he says with a deeper laugh, "Ask me of the world beyond Lothlorien and I shall show you how limited my knowledge truely is."

A soft laugh and a nod. "Has Saruman the White shown his presence to us yet?" He sits back again, leaning on his bow for support.

"Nay, Curunir has not revealed himself, but I expected no less.." Galharth says softly as he returns his gaze to the tower. "We came with no invitation so our expectation should be to hope that he sees fit to accomodate our presence. If anything we should remain hopeful since he opened the main gate and allowed us entrance into his sancuary."

"And I never would have guessed that I would have left Lothlorien." Galharth says with a broad smile. Taking a step forward towards the chained divider that lays between the lawn and the road. "Clearly this is a journey of unexpected moments."

"I agree thorougly." He looks back his tent. "I shall rest for a while, my dear mellon. May the stars shine brightly during my absence!" He stands up, with a full effort and stumbles into his tent.