A fairly peaceful scene here... A curving sliver of a moon looks down on the Celebrant, his reflection shattering into a thousand pearls bubbling atop the waters. The ground is golden with cast of leaves, and a ceiling of golden blossoms is held up by silvern pillars of mallorn-boles, all cast in shadow or glistening with the starshine in turns.
Into this scene dashes a lad, emerging not from the path but from the forest. He is dirty, and noisy on the leaves, but his hands and the bow he carries are spotlessly clean.
"Rhibi!" Calls a female voice, weak but coming closer from the northeast. Caelwen bursts in at a jog, quickening to a sprint when her eyes befall the child. "Rhibi, how often must I tell you?" Her voice is high and quick with agitation as she hops and stills before the boy. She digs the end of her staff into the ground and glares at Iaurfer.
Turning around, Rhibi scowls back at his cousin. "My name is Iaurfer! Stop calling me Rhibi!" As he comes into the more open ground, he stops, peering into the shadows. Calling back over his shoulder, he says, "It's all right, Caelwen. I don't see any wolves. Now will you stop yelling at me?" The small boy waits a bare second for Caelwen to draw nearer, then he is off again - not running this time, but poking into each bush and behind each tree. His bow is held carefully away from anything that might hurt it.
A startled cry reaches slightly tapered ears nestled within a mass of golden-red curls, and muscles long trianed to respond do not defy the Banneret now. She crouches down on the branch of a tree with one hand on the smooth bark for balance, her other grasping the spear stashed safely on her back. She springs out away from the tree, her weapon coming around as she now has it in both hands, and flips over the smooth shaft of wood. She drops quickly and lands in a crouch on a little used path.
And now a response, the voice smaller... childlike. Mia tilts her head to the side for a moment as she listens, then she creeps slowly to the edge of some brush. Seconds tick by and the sounds of rustling move nearer. When at last a piece of sanded and oiled wood peeks out through the leaves of her cover, she leaps up and holds her spear before her, barring the way.
"HALT!" She cries and lowers the weapon a bit. Her eyes narrow as she looks at the child, her lips puckering slightly as she advances on him slowly. "What manner of creature are you? I would almost mistake you for an elven child were you not so covered in dirt." Quick as lightening, she sticks her finger out and wipes it down the bridge of his nose, leaving behind an almost clean spot. "Aha! A disguise! Fiendishly clever...." She looks at the boy and grins, any seriousness gone as her eyes laugh at him mischeviously.
In a particularly bright stream of moonlight, Galena sits beneath a mallorn. Her golden hair shining silver in the light, she seems half asleep. Her peaceful breath lifts in gentle cadence, until the silence is shattered. Her verdant eyes pop open, watching the child as he runs. Those same eyes narrow in concern as she witnesses Caelwen's efforts to tame him. Deciding she must offer aide, she stands. Her black leather pack is left resting by the tree as she moves silently to stand near the child, arms folded. "You shouldn't overtax Caelwen, Rhibi. That is very childish of you. If you wish to be treated in adult manner, you shall behave thusly!" Her voice maintains an almost thunderous quality and she looks to Caelwen. Her visage grows softer as does her voice. "Are you alright, Cael?"
As Mia jumps out from her hiding spot, Galena falls to the ground. Her eyes are wide and frightened and she searches the ground for anything to throw.
Perched upon a large branch on the forest edge of Naith, a dark figure watches as the elven child and Caelwen approach. Their voice carry and the Knight suspected at least a dozen if not more are now watching the pair as they approach. The corner of the ellon's mouth raised in a crooked smile. The punishments handed out had done a remarkable job of improving the junior guards attention span's..... over night in fact.
Well hidden, Vinyarod continues to watch. Suddenly, he raises a brow as he catches sight of the bow in the child's hand. Rising up slightly, he creeps along the branch to move over the clearing at Naith. Leaves upon the branch wave ever so slightly as the graceful figure turns to scan the surrounding area when the alert to halt is called out. The Knight chuckles softly when the Banneret swiftly appears. Crouching low once more in hiding, he listens to Mia's witty words to the boy.
A brow rises in concern when the Maiden Galena falls and the Knight's body tenses slightly as he considers showing himself, if only to find some assurance that no one had been injured. "Nay." he whispers softly as he relaxes. "If Galena is harmed, then Mia is more than capable of lending her assistance."
Amongst the trees, a figure clad in elven grey appears. It is the courier Mandramaethor who enters the Naith with his quiver full of arrows and his longbow on his hand. He looks around and sees the edhil are around, some familiar, and some not , but he moves around, looking at the figures of the elves. After a while of walking around he finds he is near the Knight-Banneret, and looks up and the elleth, saying no word.
Galena finds a smooth stone with her skiddish hand at the same time she come to recognize the face and voice before her. "Mia! You scared me witless!" Her own voice is high and anxious and she drops the rock. Moving to stand, she begins to laugh. Her eyes then catch sight of the many edhel that have circled about and she blushes a bright red.
The golden leaves of the mellyrn are bathed in the reddish light of the rising sun and even to the eyes of a Galadhrim they may seem fairer to behold than at any other time of the day. Sitting in one of the trees along the eastern shores of the Celebrant is the Glirdan Sirian. But what is this? Instead of a quill and a piece of parchment there is a bow in his hand. Blue eyes study the carefully hewn wood. Suddenly the Glirdan remembers that there are other Quendi about him, for his ears have long been aware of the sound of elvish footsteps on the ground beneath. Smirking to himself, Sirian raises his voice to a part of an old song, which tells of the first time the sun rose above the skies.
Anor does shine pale as from the forest, a sound of rustling is heard, and a shadow does appear, clothed in sable and with shrouded face. A sinister hand does rise, flicking the cowl off fair-featured face, the revelation of Bregedalagos, Knight-Bachelor is complete. A dexterious hand does rise to shoulder, as the Knight-Banneret is spotted. A bow he gives, out of respect for this seasoned warrior, reknowned in Lothlorien. His rich voice fills the air, a soothing bass it is, "Anor sila lumenn' omentielvo, Sir Knight-Banneret." Then does the Knight-Bachelor turn to the others, a smile upon his face, "Mae Govannen mellyn."
"Did I say aught of wolves?" the exasperated Caelwen calls after Rhibi. She stands still, but her face follows the child as though a string were connected between him and her nose. Her mouth puckers into a frown when SHE teases him. She parts her lips to reply to Galena, then dissolves into giggles at the sight of her tumbled on the ground.
"Aye, aye, I'm fine, are you?" She offers a hand to the fallen maid, even as her eyes flicker about the sudden gathering of more elves and a raised song. It seems she would fall into silence, but soon enough, she calls, "Iaurfer. If you run off, your father would take up the bow and shoot me himself. Stay near!" She sighs anew, peering down to Galena.
As a howling monster leaps out of the woods at him, Rhibi's eyes and mouth go round. With a startled yelp, he throws himself backwards holding his bow up in a gesture of warding. Galena's chiding words are ignored - instead, frantic hazel eyes dart around the clearing to light on his cousin. Relief and a bit of determination enter his face as he sees she is not threatened, and he looks back towards the (supposed) monster, brandishing his bow like a sword. "Go away..." he begins, his voice high and thin; when the creature reaches out and touches the bridge of his nose.
And now the boy's mouth drops open again, a tide of red flooding across his face. "M-mia?" For a minute, he just gapes at her foolishly, completely at a loss for words. But then he holds out the bow, smiling a little shyly. "It is clean, see? You didn't say anything about the rest of me. Will you teach me how to use it now? You promised." Noises all around him herald the arrival of others and he looks at the gathering elves. "But maybe you're too busy." Now his voice is very quiet as he struggles with impending disappointment.
Galena finally finds her footing and raises to her full height. Her golden braids toss behind her as she shakes her head, laughter spilling forth. Light steps lead her away from Mia and the child, bringing her to stand beside Caelwen. "Aye, I am fine, having realized Mia was no wolf after a meal." Her laughter is light and merry and the bracelets at her wrists join in the song. Ahhh, the song.. As if having just heard the notes, the minstrel's eyes search the trees for it's origin. Her gaze lights upon the singer and she smiles. Soon her lips are parted and hands go for the harp at her side. She joins this song with the dulcite tapestry of her voice, the sweet play of strings and the counterpoint of bells.
Galena's fall is call for alarm, and Mia's eyes go wide as she steps a bit towards the frail maiden. But before a word can be said in either apology or concern the healer is singing, so with a sheepish grin attention is turned once more to the boy. She glances at his bow and kneels down to be more on his level... but as small as she is he now stands a bit taller than herself. Never the less, she nods and moves her spear back into position on her back. "Nay, I said nothing of you, however it couldn't hurt to try scrubbing the mud from your..." she looks him up and down, her smile growing wider. "Well, everywhere. And yes, I will show you how to use the bow, but first I will know what mischief you have been causing your aunt. Willfull boy," She says, tousling his hair, "Is there no end to your pranks and silly antics?"
As the Knight-Bachelor Bregedalagos makes his introduction to the group, and indeed as many others gather around, Mia looks around from face to face nodding her welcome to each in turn.
Anor's light sparkles through the branches of Vinyarod's hiding place, and drawn by the light he looks towards the east and the beauty of the landscape which lay's within his sight. It is a peaceful sight, one that fills the ellon with hope that the day will be as bright as the light which shines down upon them. Turning back towards those gathered below, the Knight chuckles lightly at the child's request for training. There was something about the Banneret which drew attention to her, and it seemed the small lad was no more resistant to Mia's charms than any other edhil.
Rising up slightly, Vinyarod stoops once more and then at the lowest point of his crouch, he leaps into the air. A deep gray cloak and golden hair waves in the breeze caused by the Knight's movement through the air. Just as gravity takes hold, he pulls himself tightly into a ball. Tumbling over in a roll as his tighly balled form falls to the ground, the darkly clad ellon suddenly stretches out with his feel aimed at the ground.
Dropping light as a feather, the Knight drops nearly to his knees from the downward momentum before he stands and turns to the others. "Mae Govanen, Mellyn." he says with a light bow of his head as he offers a respectful salute towards the Banneret. Offering the most serious of expressions, Vinyarod turns to the young lad and looks him over. "Is this the new Warrior we've been expecting to combat the wolves?" he asks with a slight lift to the corner of his mouth.
Mandramaethor smiles as he listens to what the child says and moves around the Naith for a moment, with his eyes wide open looking around. After a moment he mutters to himself something inaudible and moves back to the path. Before he is gone, between his mumbles an elf who was concentrated in him may understand some random words such as "not here" or "where is he?".
Anor does shine brilliantly, banishing the last traces of night, and bringing morning to the wood. A beam of light does escape the guard of the Mallorn trees, shining down into the Naith, upon the Knight-Bachelor. A hand reaches to his back, and Lo! a weapon does he hold in his hand dexter, seemingly made of light as reflections of the Flame of the West do dance around the blade. He approaches the Knight-Banneret, and, with voice of deep bass, does again fill the air with rich tones, "Sir Knight-Banneret, I have heard of your fabled skill with the spear, that it does pass beyond the skill of all who dwell still in Middle Earth. I prithee, could you impart some of your ken of spear combat to me, so that I may better serve the Lord and Lady in defence of Lothlorien."
Caelwen smiles and closes her peridot eyes briefly at Galena's singing mingling with another voice, but soon enough opens them again to check for her young kin. Toward him she now wanders again, and a soft hand, nigh-protective, is rested on Rhibi's shoulder as they both now look down to the small Banneret. "I'm his cousin, not his aunt," she begins, naught spoken of his mischief. "Are you honestly going to teach him to shoot?" Her brows draw together as she studies the young lad fretfully.
Alarmed, her brows lift again when Vinyarod approaches. "Wolves?" Quick words are added behind. "Iaurfer, you mustn't think of going on patrol or shooting at things... Do you hear?" She glances briefly to Bregedalagos, then attempts to set her features in a more firm cast to present to the lad.
Utter delight wreaths itself across the small boy's dirt-smudged face. "You will? Now?" He can't restrain a whoop of excitement. Dancing from foot to foot, he demands, "What do I do first? I cleaned it just like you said." Vinyarod's speech is heard with a slightly wary dampening of his ardor; Rhibi eyes the knight suspiciously for signs that he is being laughed at. And Caelwen, at her nervous warning, is treated to a look of scornful disdain. "I will! But," he adds conscientiously, with a quick glance back to his idol, "not until I am older. And," he says, finally remembering the question put to him. "I wasn't doing anything. But she is so slow! And now she worries about everything!"
As the original singer of the morning song fades into the wood, Galena's voice, then harp, then bells also cease their sounds. The resulting quiet is peaceful and filled with the glorious marmalade shades that dawn gives. The apprentice seems relaxed, her posture less tense than it has been in quite sometime. For those who would notice, even her clothes have changed dramaticaly. Instead of her usual violet gown, she now wears snug breeches and a white off-shoulder blouse. Her delicate shoulders are exposed to the breeze, though her cloak falls from her neck and brushes the ground behind her. Verdant eyes go to her pack against the tree as her stomach rumbles. "Ahhh, food." She matches steps with the potter as she approaches Mia and the child again, then in a tone just above whispering, "Think ye that this merry grouping would care for a day break meal? I dare say this time will soon be filled with the sounds of training! I would like to study my long bow, considering the events of late." Her brows knit at her final words and she gazes now at the river.
"Perhaps a bite to eat for you, first, Rhibi." Mia says as she hears Galena mention food. "I want nothing more than to have the chance to train you to use your bow, but duty comes before pleasure." She smiles and winks at him, turning her smile on the Knight before she stands and straightens her legs. The Bachelor is in her field of vision, and her pleasant mood causes her to walk over and place her hand on his shoulder, turn him gently towards a bit of a clearing a few feet away, and say with a good-natured chuckle, "Of course, mellon, but I am hardly fabled." She pauses, puckering her lips in thought before nodding and saying, "No, you were right, fabled..."
Before she has walked him more than two feet, she stops again and holds up a finger, "Pardon me for just... one moment." she says as she turns to the child's kin. "My apologies, Caelwen... I meant no disrespect in making that blunder, as I have the utmost respect for you for taking care of him so often. The bond between you must be strong, for he heeds you at least somewhat when I get the feeling he listens to very few. But to answer your question, yes. I am going to teach him to use his bow. I was not much older than he is when I first began learning, and it is a good skill to have. But fear not, he will not hunt or patrol, and I think that the discipline might work some magical changes in him." She smiles at her and turns back to her pupil.
Offering a teasing wink to Caelwen, Vinyarod glances around the group with a smile. When Mia replies to the Knight Bachelor's words, the Knight laughs softly. "Fabled?" he asks between chuckles. "Well then, if this is so, then I too would greatly appreciate tutoring from one of your standing." he teases. Knight-Bachelor does smile at the words of Knight-Banneret, his eyes glinting in golden rays. He stands in silence, spear ready in dexter hand, cloak undulating in the wind, waiting for further instruction.
"I am not slow! And you always run off when placed in my care!" Caelwen retorts defensively, the young cennan made to seem younger at her cousin's accusation. Galena's suggestion and Mia's concurrance is eagerly echoed by her. "Yes, Rhibi-- you've had naught to eat since we left Caras Galadhon. Why don't you sit down at that tree," she points to one near where Galena's pack is, "And eat while you watch the guards practice?" Her tense stance eases a bit while she takes a moment to linger in silence after the Banneret's further speech. "Well.. mayhap. I don't think he listens to me more than any, but aye, some discipline is needed." Vinyarod's wink is returned by a smile, and she murmers, "Miaulwen is indeed fabled in my family." Louder, she adds a bit more after Mia, "If you are teaching here, may I join in?"
"I'm not hungry yet!" Rhibi plants his feet firmly on the ground, both clean hands clutching his bow-stave as he eyes Galena and Caelwen in defiance. His gaze follows Mia as ever it does, and late, he continues. "I mean, I'm not hungry, but I do put duty before pleasure, like you said.." A wary look is tossed up toward the Knight, but it seems Vinyarod is not laughing at him, so he just steps closer to Caelwen. "I do too listen to you, but you are /so/ slow.. you are! And always worrying, like I said." Thinking no one is watching, he quickly sticks his tongue out at the cennan.
Swift steps of bare feet carry the minstrel to her pack and she quickly unties the knot holding the topmost opening closed. It is from therein that a multi-folded cloth is produced. Galena shakes out this grey cloth and it unfolds into a large square as it flutters to the ground. She quickly begins setting out goodies from the various pockets on her sack. Sweet Lemon, a flask of water, a bladder of wine and several wooden cups here. Honey, apricot and date bread, berries, and dried meats there. Last yet with the most ceremony, the minstrel retrieves a moderately sized basket, containing a ceramic pot lined with waxed parchment. The scent that curls languidly from it's lid hints of cinnamon and cream, warm peaches and fresh pastery. A slender hand lifts that lid to reveal a peach cobbler resting inside. The golden haired maid turns back to her bag once more and pulls out a few wooden spoons, laying them to rest beside the pot. All is made ready and layed out for the taking and the maiden looks up. "Alright. I know it isn't much... but here you go! All may help themselves." She pours herself a cup of Sweet Lemon and rips off a piece of apricot bread, then leans back against the tree behind her.
"All are welcome to join," Mia says happily as she turns to her steadily growing number of students. Pointing to Bregedalagos, she says as if to herself, "You are spear, Caelwen is staff..." she pauses and looks at Vinyarod, her hands finding her hips as she tosses her hair over her shulder. He teased her, and she is only to willing to play back. "And you, Knight Vinyarod... or should that be Bachelor? It is not wise to taunt the Banneret, you know. Her skills are FABLED, or have you not heard? It wouldn't suprise me, only those who are wise can truly see such things." She cracks a grin, her hand waving him along, "But what do you wish to learn, mellon? Is it to be the sword again? If so, I can find you a good barn somewhere..."
The noise from Rhibi catches his attention and Vinyarod hears both Caelwen and the lads words. "That's true young mellon. Duty is ever first upon our minds." he comments to the lad. "But if you wish to join us when you're older, it is best to take your cousin's advice. And at this time, it is your duty to obey her. Like any squire, listening to those above you is a vital skill. Learn it early and someday you may stand beside the Banneret as an equal." Glancing towards Caelwen he tilts his head slightly. "I apologize if I am speaking where my words are unwelcome." he says softly
Turning back to Mia just as she speaks. His eyes grow wide for a moment in surprise at the swiftness in which she bites back, but the surprise lasts only until she mentions the barn. A wide smile spreads across his face and he chuckles at his own expense. "Yes.... I believe I'd like to challenge a few barns." he says with great effort to control his laughter. Wielding his sword he holds the blade up in a defensive posture. "Someday the barns will fear me."
Knight-Banneret teasing Knight does bring a smile to the eyes of Bregedalagos. To the first does he turn, whilst spear is held ready, diagonally across lithe body. "Knight-Banneret, what would you have me do?...Spar with you?, practice my throws, or listen to the combat lore known to you?...My ken of spear combat is little, and all would help me greatly."
Caelwen purses her lips and lifts a brow as she peers down at her cousin. The scents of Galena's feast slowly drift toward them, and she murmers, "Doesn't that smell good, Rhibi?" Her voice drops softer, "And won't Mia think well of you for sitting and eating so patiently?" A wry grin pops across her face, a giggle leaking from between her teeth.
Bright eyes lift to Vinyarod, a sage nod given as he speaks, her smile growing even brighter, her hand tightening on the lad's shoulder. "Nay. I think you do help." She winks now, a bit smug, at her young charge, and then abandons him to trail after Mia, laughter following her in low background to the banter. She swings her stave from side to side, each time nearly hitting her own feet.
Galena finishes her drink and bread and closes her eyes as she rests against the tree. Soon her rythmic breath slows and she enters a peaceful reverie.
His feet dragging reluctantly at first, but becoming more eager as enticing scents drift past his nose, Rhibi heads towards Galena and the food spread out around her. By the time he has reached her, he has forgotten his avowal of not being hungry. "Can I have some of this?" he asks, a bare concession to politeness before he plops down on the ground. Greenish-hazel eyes peer greedily around, then he reaches out swiftly and snags a piece of fruit. An enormous bite is crammed into his mouth and he squiggles around to watch Mia while he chews; fruit in one hand, cheek distended and juice running down his chin.
A grin, a hint of laughter in her voice, and as the Knight walks over, Mia watches him with some amusement. "Barns? I dare say that I, for one, will think twice before baiting you again. Who would have known that a Sinda could show such range of emotion... most disturbing as I have had to rethink my complete philosophy in life because of you. To think that I have to live with the shame of respecting you now."
But as she faces the three she grows more serious, her forehead creased by faint lines as she ponders aloud. "What to do with you three? A predicament, indeed, as each would need such different training." She turns her head and looks at the boy, happily eating on the blanket. "Four, I mean, and a bow with that one." With a sigh she shakes her head. "Nothing droll and boring... I think we need a game. But what could test your skills while providing you... and me, with fun?" Long moments pass, until finally her eyes brighten. "But of course! We have practiced stealth, let us now practice agility and dexterity. When we fight, we do so mainly in the trees and on the forest floor, both of which can be treacherous to one with unsure footing. So now for the challenge!"
She puts her fingers in her mouth and lets out a shrill whistle to which a number of squires respond almost immediately to. They run, drop from limbs above, and merely appear from thin air to stand by her side, and a few whispered words later they are off and running.
It is only a few minutes later that they return, a large section of an old tree between them. "There was a storm that touched the outer edges of Lorien awhile past, and lightening hit this mighty fellow." Mia says as they roll it onto the ground. It is about 5 feet wide at the middle and smooth, and even in the slight breeze it rocks gently back and forth. "Nothing is wasted, and I think I am glad that this wasn't. It will do well for our lesson today."
The eyes of Knight-Bachelor Bregedalagos do widen slightly at the massive log rolled now into the scene. With cat-like swiftness, he jumps onto it, crouched, with spear held low and ready. His cloak sways in the wind, a help for steadying himself. "We spar now, Banneret?"
Odd glances now and again find Rhibi occupied with a meal, and Caelwen's step grows easier, more relaxed. She stops, not far from where Mia does, and watches in wide-eyed silence the squires at their work. Both hands grip her stave before her. Bregedalagos leaps up already upon the log, but the cennan waits in uncertainty, eyes heavy on both the Banneret and the Knight.
A huge old tree is brought into the Naith and Rhibi's eyes light up with excitement. Eating even faster, if possible, he has soon crammed the entire piece of fruit down his small gullet. He jumps to his feet, wiping sticky hands down the sides of his legs and crouches to get his bow; stopping with both hands hovering in mid-air above the spotless weapon. With a sigh of resignation, he hops back up and races to the nearby river, splashing his hands quickly in the water and then running back.
Now the bow is snatched up and the boy eels his way throught the crowd of squires until he has reached Caelwen's side, a huge grin stretching his face. His eyes dart from Mia to the log and back again, but (almost miraculously) he refrains from saying anything.
"Now mellon," Mia says, her arms crossed before her, "This will be a challenege. And no, Bregedalagos, we do not spar now." She slaps the log and waggles her fingers at him to get down as a squire leaps up with a container filled with... an unnamed something. This something he then pours along the log, a clear golden liquid that coats the bark in a thick oily goo. Mia smiles happily as this proceedes, her teeth showing a bit more with each moment that passes.
"So then, the task is simple... you must keep your feet on the log without falling off. Ah, but there is a trick involved... the squires will be moving the log, so you will have to walk around it's diameter while making sure you do not slip. Easy enough to do with those who have patience."
Vinayod looks at the Banneret with a raised brow. "I've heard the humans have a similar challenge, although they put the oil on a pig and then try to catch him." he says with a neutral tone. Glancing at the other victim's of Mia's inspiration he grins. "Now which of us goes first?" he asks.
As Mia prepares the log and begins her explanation, a single figure slips out from the treeline, making his way along the paths towards the gathering of elves. Tall and lithe, his movements fluid yet holding a great strength, the white-cowled figured armored in mithril reaches up to pull his cowl back from his head as he walks, revealing the sombre face of the Commander, his eyes focused upon the scene ahead.
No words spoken, but he looks to Mia, giving her a faint nod of his head, before he stands off to the side, too far away to warrant the multitude of salutes that would otherwise head his way.
Caelwen absent-mindedly pats Rhibi's head as he suddenly appears beside her, then steps away to lean her stave against a tree. Slow steps bring her back to the small grouping, measuring the greased log with her gaze the whole while. "I'll go first." Suddenly her eyes flash to Vinyarod and she laughingly corrects herself. "Nay! You first. Then I shall know what I am up against." She walks forth, and reaches out a slim hand to test the oil on the log. A quick glance is flicked toward Terridan, but naught else. She backs away again.
"But I wanted to learn to shoot." Rhibi's voice rises in a soft wail of complaint. From his earlier enthusiasm, he now eyes the log with displeasure. "I crawl around on logs all the time anyways," he mutters under his breath, almost too quietly to be heard. The sun shining on his small form brightens light brown hair and turns obstinate hazel eyes to a shimmering green.
The soft dirt beneath Anore's feet makes a gently rustling, loud enough to spark notice from the group before her. Golden curls dance around her face in the afternoon breeze and a glimmer of the fading sun makes shadows on her face. Clothed in white leggings with shiny black boots and a dark blue tunic, Anore steadily continues towards the group. Her bow is slung over her left shoulder and her pack on the right.
There is no noise made as she reaches the group. Anore silently falls in line behind the Banneret, who is pointing at a log on the ground. Her eyebrows raise slightly and her rosy lips curl into a smile.
A nod is given to the Commander, an almost imperceptible dip of Mia's head as she acknowledges his presence discreetly. But there is much to do and more to explain. "Rhibi, there is more to training than actually firing a bow. Anyone can learn to do that well." She raises an eyebrow and smirks, "Our own Royal Court has proven time and again that you don't actually need skill to fight. No, what sets those who fight from those who fight well are the other skills you posess." She steps back and holds her hand out in a sweeping gesture to the Knight, "Our first victim... I mean... Please, don't hesitate, my friend."
A wry smile comes to Terridan's face at Mia's words, and he gives a faint nod of his head, before he too begins to step forward, still no words escaping him as he nears the gathering for what promises to be an entertaining evening.
As no more than any other shrouded whisper tucked within the gentle winds of new spring, the lithe and long stride of silver-clad legs leading cloak-wrapped figure swiftly nearer to the sparkling riverbank. Light song from lips hidden beneath cowl adds only a sprinkle to the endless babble of Celebrant's tireless work, a black longbow angled with quiver to match upon long back.
Turning, stepping, ducking bramble and Mallyrn, finally well within the tip of the angle, he pauses, scanning quickly left to right and lowering his hood. Mellyn about, and perhaps a bit of fun - if the banter should reveal. Lowering his head he tosses mock-seriousness upon bright face, emerald eyes belying as he quickly joins the group, tight lips and gaze locking then upon the Banneret. (Galindrion)
Eyeing Caelwen carefully, he sighs. "First is not always best." he says with a defeated tone, seeking to as least make the elleth feel a little bit guilty for suggesting he take the lead. He's unable to hold the look for long before he grins. "Ah well, first to go is also the first done."
Stepping forward to the end of the log, the Knight examines it carefully. Glancing towards his senior he catches sight of the Commander. Thankfully, since they were organized in a training group only the most senior would have to salute. "Just walk across it?" he asks with a bit of hesitation. "Then keep walking as the Squires roll it?" It sounded too simple.
Lifting a booted foot he places it carefully on a patch of wood uncoated by the oil. Then, pushing off with the foot still on the ground, Vinyarod pauses with both feet on the end of the log. "Ready." he says, awaiting Mia's word to begin.
Caelwen snorts after Mia's comment, and leans over a bit to drop a murmer over Rhibi. "She must not know Lothdaimoth very well, aye?" She straightens just in time to catch Vinyarod's look, and does manage to tangle a bit of guilt into her mien, cut away at his soon-following grin. A studious eye is now lent to the edhel on the log, no notice given to the new arrivals as she concentrates on trying to learn from any mistakes made by him.
"Yes, but.. but.." Rhibi heaves a huge sigh and tries to explain. "Anybody might be able to learn, but I don't know how and you said you would teach me." Caelwen speaks his thought; and a further jutting out of his small defiant chin accompanies his next words, which again are lower, quieter. "My cousin is in the Court and he is a good fighter." Then his shoulders droop and he kicks disconsolately at the ground. "All right, all right. I'll do it." His grudging tone melts into resignation and he peeks up at Mia with a little smile and rattles off, "Duty comes before pleasure."
A clink sounds, followed by another, and yet another. The sound is that of bottles grouped together, and soon their bearer reveals himself. Orange, yellows, and reds, the colours seen only brighter if found within a fire. Palan's feet move to a slight rhythm...a skip, a hop, a slow drawl... He shuffles forward at this happy pace, watching his feet carefully, but at times looking upwards. The movements of his back cause the necks of the bottles to tap against his bow, making tiny sounds in accompanimant.
His travels along the Celebrant soon lead him to voices, and he pauses a moment with grin upon his mien. He drops his cowl to his shoulders and moves forward to see what the discussion may be, and indeed finds something of possible enjoyment. He states to no one in particular, "My..what doings are abound in the Wood today?" (Palan)
A soft sound, if any, might be heard from the mallyrn, for in one of them a faint blur moves across the branches. It is a Quendi. The source of it, Varya, steps softly and silently from branch to branch, and his movements become more defined as the form increases it's speed a little. Yet, it stops at the edge of the Naith.
The Squire stands still, gaze encompasing the activities of the Naith. Remaining in his position in the mallorn, the longbow that is slung over his shoulder swiftly moves to his hand, once that is accomplished, the Sinda starts a slow descent down the mallorn.
The sky changed gradually from the glimmer of a fiery orange to the grey haze of night. Anore, still standing behind the Banneret, notices the trees' songlike rustle and loses herself in the cool night air. Her eyes begin to sparkle as she stares longinly into the night.
The entrance of the Squire brought her attention back to the task at hand. Anore's eyes move from the river to the trees, making aware her surroundings. She sees the counselor to her right and smiles pleasantly, giving him a subtle nod. Anore places her focus back on the Banneret and the Knight atop the log.
Stepping up behind the child, a gentle hand laid upon his shoulder, Galindrion leans towards Rhibi's ear to add his own advice. Gently in slow rhythm, he says, "Your Cousin is beyond a good fighter my young friend, and I wouldst do mine best to defend his honor in the face of such misrepresentation." Wry grin appears upon the cherry bough of his full lips, straightening again with quick wink flashed to Mia, his right hand offering flourish with short bow from head and shoulders only.
"The Arnpand brims with hands capable of sharing the reins of protection, whether my friends in other service can see beyond our Heralds endless gusto, or nay," he finishes, eyes quick in their new light. His gloveless hands cross at the belt, firm grip of each landing upon sword-pommel - holding, and releasing even with his smile, "even if it should be by dancing upon this log. Have you music to accompany the waltz?"
The sound of a slight rustle travels along the wind audible for those that are aware at all times as another edhel approaches from within the woods. Shrouded directly from sight by his cloak, he makes his way over to the group gathered at a log.
Folding back the hood, his silvery white hair flows freely over his shoulders as his eyes skip from one person to the other. The corner of his mouth curls up a bit as if turning to a slight smile as he spots his commander Terridan, he comes closer towards him. "Evening Sir.." he speak slowly "Tis been awhile ere we last met.."
"Ah, and what gusto your kin has, Galindrion!" Mia says with a grin, "I have heard that he is skilled with his hands, though not necessarily in the art of war." She turns her eyes up to the Knight and in a loud voice, a clarion call through the woods that sends birds scattering from their perches, she yells, "Go!"
The Squires grunt, but soon they have the log slowly trundling across the grass. As it is not level, it bumps and hops, wiggles and scoots its way along. The oil now coats every side and those pushing it begin to slip along the sides, their hands skimming the nearly self-propelled log. It gains momentum, then crests a slight lip in a ridge, turning back and rolling now back towards the group gathered for the spectacle.
Merely shaking his head now, Terridan can only chuckle as he watches the spectacle, and finally the Commander speaks out, "Be sure that the squires do not roll the log over any fallen guards, though, Banneret. I would hate to see them injured and have to face the healers."
The word to go sings out in the clearing and Vinyarod is spurred on. Gingerly avoiding the oil in the first few steps the Knight throws his arms out for balance as the log rolls. He grunt's lightly as his feet slip, but a hard look of subborness fills his eyes and with his boots slipping and his arms flying he does his very best to cross the log.
Caelwen's hand grips her cousin's shoulder tightly again, biting her lip as she watches the log and Quendi go flying across the naith. The only other response she gives is a brief nod after Terridan's words.
Rhibi gives Galindrion a brilliant smile and then looks back to the spectacle of rolling log and scrambling elf. A little giggle escapes his lips and he slides from Caelwen's grasp to the ground. Holding his bow on his lap and bending over it agilely, he tugs at the laces of his sturdy boots, untying them and pulling them off. Dirty (of course) bare toes wiggle in the open air. Jumping back up to his feet, he bounces a little; his sulky expression turned to laughter.
With a slight chuckle, Palan moves forward to get a better view of the entertainment. He watches with delight as Vinyarod crosses the log. "My, what dealings we have here. Are we testing some new form of movement here? Perhaps if we prepare well enough, we shall only need to roll over our enemies?" A small grin shows upon his face as he takes a small container from his belt and partakes of a bit of bloomwine. "Verily, that should be some site indeed. Perhaps next we shall find some elastic material and place it betwixt mallyrn, that we might fly to the lands of our enemies?"
"My little friend I do think you have a good idea," adds Galindrion with an earnest and hardy laugh, removing bow and quiver, one strap with each hand. Setting them to rest upon silver bole, he sits upon the ground, stretching legs out as a sword clinks sharply into place along the length of each. With quick work he unties the light string that closes his slippers securely, sliding them off to stand then again barefoot, and perhaps more readied for the challenge. A gentle smile returns to Anoreluriell's nod, the Counsel alive with energy in a moment of newness - log-rolling Knights perhaps too rare of a sight.
Bemusedly, wry smile slipping across his lips, Galindrion shakes his head, offering no answer for his Kinsman, the Linguist's words, curious yet with narrowed brow as he nudges Rhibi and listens for what answer might follow.
Caelwen's bright gaze shies away from the knight on the log toward the river several times. Finally, she kneels beside Rhibi, and, with a sharp eye to him, murmers, "I'm going to go upstream a little. I want you to come find me when you are finished... and do NOT get on that log unless the Banneret says you may, aye?" Waiting not for a reply, the cennan arises and slips away from her cousin. She retrieves her staff and steps into the river just at the bank, slowly making her way upstream and prodding the stave into the bottom every now and again.
Past the half-way mark, grace, balance, and motivation go off the Talan edge. "Ahhhhk!" the Knight exclaims as he looses his balance as one foot slips without catching. His arms circle wide trying to make up for the loss of his foothing without helping. On one foot he tilts back, the forward, before leaning to one side. His face twists in concentration and while the mind was willing the log had other plans.
His last foot begins to slid in the oil and Vinyarod does a strange unbalanced hop in search of footing. Bad move. In slow motion it seems, the darkly clad figure leans forward with arms still flapping. He slips. For an instant in time, the ellon is suspended in the air before he drops with a *Thud* over the log, feet on one side, a mass of disorganized golden tresses on the other. "Ow." he says weakly as he just lays there.
Having arrived on the ground, Varya's eyes are filled with a slight curiosity about the proceedings. Swiftly covering the distance between the mallorn and the spectacle, his gaze is now cast to the edhil that are nearby. Upon spotting the Banneret and Commander, a swift salute is given, though the chance of it being seen is slim.
A soft, but quizzical laugh is given as he watches the Knight on the log. Stepping softly over to the Counsel, he queries, "What are they attempting to teach?"
Caelwen's whisper is mostly ignored, an absent, "Yes, yes," being Rhibi's only response. As soon as Vinyarod falls, he dashes up unable to restrain himself any longer. "Mia, can I do it? Please?"
Words of encouragemtn have been foremost on the Banneret's lips, but as Vinyarod slips and falls they die quickly. The Squires try to stop the log, but it's weight carries it along by momentum alone, and with grease streaked hands their work is difficult. Mia definately spies the danger, but her confidence in the Knight is strong and so she casually steps away from the crowd and makes her way towards the slowing chunk of wood. "And just a bit ago I was worried because I respected you. You did that just for me, right?" She calls over to him lightly with a grin on her face.
But in the midst of the young elf's excitement, a shrill voice raises from upstream where Caelwen had gone. "Iaurfer! Come here right now!" The tone brooks no disobedience. Rhibi stops, his head turning towards the voice incredulously. "But Caelwen," he protests, although it is obvious she cannot hear him. Then, face falling disappointedly, he trudges off towards his cousin. His boots are left behind forgotten.
Turning around to look at the spectacle, Ciryadin grins playfully as he observes the struggling knight upon the rolling log.
Swinging the longbow strapped over shoulder off, he holds it in his right hand as he trods towards Mia "Sir, i notice you are busy in training these squires gathered. Mayhap thee hast some time to train with the longbow??" the knight asks.
Looking up, Vinyarod brushes his hair out of his eyes and snorts most unelf like. "Give me a roll and I lose your respect. I wonder if you could do any better Banneret." he says tartly as he struggles to untangle himself from the log. Gunting slightly as he swings his legs over to the same side as his head, the Knight rubs his belly. "Now that hurt. But.... a lesson worth the price I'd say." Pushing himself off the ground, he brushes off the dirt only to find it mixed with oil into a mess worse than he'd seen Rhibi show up with. Giving up he looks to the others. "Who's next?" he asks. "Surely someone will try to best my efforts."