================== Eldarin Calendar <in Sindarin> ===================
IC time is: Nighttime < About 10:38 PM >
IC day is: Ormenel <Heavens-day>
IC date is: 13 Laer <Summer>
Moon phase: New <HIDDEN>
Earendil: Gil-Estel is not visible.
IC year is: Loa 17 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor <TA 3041>
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RL time: Thu Jul 05 08:32:49 2007
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Old South Road (Methedras) - Dunland <<Redvyrne County>>
You are close to the mountain peak named Methedras and you can make out greater detail in the crags and spikes of the rocks that cover the sides of it. Through this area, you can barely see your way because the road is faint and overgrown with grass. The only evidence that the road was ever here is that the grass is thinner and of a different variety from the surrounding plains. The trees are sparse off in the distance, but help to break the monotony of the horizon.

To the north stands clear sign of habitation, however - the dark bulk of Crebain Keep is visible against the night sky, guarding Dunland's borders. Pinpricks of light atop the walls wink in and out as the night guard passes.

Participants:
Galharth
Rhibi
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Settled upon the Old South Road, close to the mountain peak Methedras, a silent camp lays nestled in the grasses. A field of brilliant stars accent the lands, mingling light with shadows, giving the view an almost magical appearance. Summer winds blow from the east, bringing the scent of plains. Near the tents, a few horses nicker softly to eachother, nibbling happily on the abundant grass while they rest.

A Cloaked figure stands outside the camp, peering northwards. "There are people there," he whispers softly, as if speaking to himself.

Rhibi has been, of course, exploring. Not that there is much new among the tents, but he has found every corner, every shadow, every blade of grass, and has made the acquaintance of all their few horses. Now he pads up beside Galharth and looks the same direction. "Are there?" he asks curiously. "I don't see anyone."

A hand rises up from beneath his cloak, and the Tailor points to the flickers of distant light. "The fire of torches, or lanterns burn, and if you look carefully, the shadows angle to precisely to be natural." Drawing back the hood of his cloak, Galharth's silvery hair seems to glow under the light of the stars. "When the sun rises in the morning, we'll be presented with a rare sight." He chuckles softly, "At least rare for us considering we travel so infrequently."

The youth turns his head a little. "Oh!' he cries. "I see it!" One slender hand lifts to point. "What do you think they will be like?" he asks eagerly. "I have never seen so many second-born in my life! Do these server Curunir also?"

"Shhhhhhhush," warns Galharth, "Do let Kylin rest, remember he's not as we are." Pausing a moment to look back to the camp, the Tailor carefully inspects the movement and sounds made. "We must respect the needs of others."

Turning back to the north, the crafter frowns. "Indeed, there seems to be so many more than those met upon the Rohirrim plains." Shaking his head, he glances a moment towards the youth. "I know not who these people serve. Again, I know little of them. Like you, I can only learn."

"Oh," Rhibi says, abashed. He peers over his shoulder towards then tents then turns joyfully back to Galharth. "He is not awake," he says confidently and throws his head back. "Look," he exclaims, more softly, "You can see all of the stars at once! It is like... it is like climbing to the very top of the Great Mallorn and looking up!"

Looking upwards with Rhibi's encouragement, Galharth smiles, and his eyes droop slightly with enjoyment of the sight. "Regardless of where we are, the sky is unchanged. It is a wonder that I could find myself lost in each evening." Opening his eyes fully, he lowers his head to peer at his young friend. "We must ask the second born what they think when they look upon the sight of the evening sky. We've travelled for three full days in Kylin's company, and I've learned nothing from him."

"I do not think they look," Rhibi replies, scorn tinged with amazement in his voice. "They are always /sleeping/." He sniffs, looking back at the silent tent again. "Does he not answer your questions?" he asks then and laughs, a silvery sound. "Then you know how I feel! I ask and ask and people do not answer me!"

Shrugging his shoulders lightly, the Tailor looks once more to the North as he speaks. "I know he calls Gondor home. I know he considers himself a guest in Curunir's land, and that he occasionally delivers messages, but beyond that I've asked few questions so the fault may well lie with me." Falling silent for a moment Galharth's eyes grow distant as if deep in thought. "Asking too many questions can overwhelm listeners leading to silence. Perhaps we both fail in some respect. Asking too much and asking too little." A quick glance to Rhibi, a wink is offered. "Perhaps we can meet in the middle and learn more than we ever could imagine."

"I /never/ ask too few questions," Rhibi says, chuckling. "There are so many things that I want to know, and how will I find them out if I do not ask? What is this 'Gondor'?"

With a teasing look towards Rhibi, and a chuckle of his own, Galharth replies, "And I /never/ ask too many questions!" Lifting his hand once more, he extends a finger to point towards his eyes, "How you ask?" he says, "with these. Silent observation often reveals more than any question could.

"Do you recall our friends who visit our home, roaming freely?" The Tailor asks cryptically, "The ones who've asked that we keep them unnamed outside our sancuary?" As he speaks, the ellon peers carfully about them, lowering his voice softly as he speaks. "They headed south to Gondor. Perhaps if they travel again through our lands, you can ask them."

The child's eyes light up. "I shall!" he says enthusiastically. "I remember them! But they do not come so very often," he ends, sorrowfully. "I shall have to wait and wait." He sighs a little, and then the distant flickering lights catch his attention again. "Shall we go and see them?" he asks Galharth. "When day comes? I would like to know what they look like and where they live. Do you think they like trees?"

"They are farther south than I care to travel, and beyond that I know little more of them. I leave it to our friends to tell you what they know." Offering the youth a smile, Galharth shakes his head. "Wait and wait? You do realize that if you continue to think as such, you shall grow weary of this world long before you reach the age of 200." Laughing softly, the ellon looks away, and again the distance flickers of light draw his attention. "When you say such things, you sound so human, for time is nothing and a thousand years passes as a blink of our eyes. Time to put this concept into your thoughts Rhibi."

"Yes, but it goes so slowly!" Rhibi protests, still laughing. "I /know/ there is all the time I want to learn things in, but I want to know them all /now/!" He looks southwards still and sighs again with disappointment. "We could go a little ways closer?" he asks wistfully. "Just enough to see them better? They would not see us..."

"Perhaps when morning comes Rhibi." Galharth says softly, with hushed words. "Morning is soon enough." Taking a step towards camp, the Tailor pauses to offer a symathetic glance towards the youth. "I'm going to see to the needs of the animals, and perhaps sit awhile to rest. Please don't go far." And with that he walks away, into the camp.