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(Archive) Measuring words

Tags: Brev,  Ormesir

Short Summary: An Elven visitor to town converses with a local carpenter.
Date (real-life): 2013-01-06
Scene Location: Esgaroth: Outside Taurdain Suites
Date (in-game): November 3057
Time of Day: Evening
Weather: Clear
Bowman Street and Merchant's Way

  Objects of crafted art are precisely placed along the buildings here where Bowman Street and Merchant's Way meet. The entire area has a peaceful nature to it, from the vine covered doorways and balconies, to the wood carved murials here. This part of the Business district begins the Craftspersons Quarter along Merchant's Way. To the west you can walk out onto the beginning of part of the fenced promenade that surrounds most of the town. The shoreline can be seen from here on a clear day.

  The Taurdain Suites reside in the south-western most building, the home of the Lords of House Taurdain. Across from the suites is the doorway leading into the Amon Thranduil Embassy, the elves closesly tied to House Taurdain over the years.

Obvious exits:
 Elvish Embassy leads to Elven Embassy: Front Hall.
 Taurdain Suites leads to Taurdain Suites: Entry Hall.
 North leads to Center of Bowman Street.
 East leads to Center of Merchant's Way.

----

Dale-Lands Time and Weather Service

Real Time: Sun Jan 06 15:36:27 2013 MST

Dale-Lands Time:
Monday, early evening on a clear autumn's night, November 15 of 3057

----

The autumn day is just starting to fade into evening. The sky above is clear, which means that it's beginning to get distinctly chilly, and the breeze that sends wisps of straw and scraps of rubbish whipping along the boards underfoot isn't really helping. Still, some folk are out and about. Returning home mostly: there's an exodus from both Crafters and Merchants Guilds streaming east and west.

Outside the Taurdain Suites, however, are two persons who show no sign of 'returning' anywhere. One, a thin sandy-haired lad of fourteen or so, is standing at the base of a ladder looking anxiously upward while a second figure high above, this one swarthy-skinned and leatherclad, unfurls a knotted cord to measure the lengths between roof guttering and the ground. As a new gust of wind comes, the ground-bound youth steadies the ladder, biting his lip.

[Ormesir(#31473)] Ormesir steps out. Wearing borrowed clothes while his own are washed and dried, he looked a little awkward in the humans' clothing instead. After adjusting the belt for the Nth time he looks this way, and then focuses on the two with the curious rope. Staring a long moment, he asks abruptly "What ARE you doing? Measuring the houses' height? " in puzzlement

At that the sandy-haired youth glances toward the new arrival. Initial curiosity gives way to a slow reddening of cheeks and ears. "Y-y-yes, sir," he gets out after swallowing a few times, and then, though surely he realizes this isn't one of the House's usual residents, he mumbles, "D-didn't mean to d-disturb."

The swarthy-skinned man up above calls down something to his young companion that is tossed away by the wind (numbers? instruction? reprimand?); when no answer is forthcoming he sighs, shakes his head and begins to descend toward the two heads, brown and sandy.

[Ormesir(#31473)] "You didnt disturb me. " Reassured the elf, noting the youths' discomfiture. Not yet seen by the older man, he walks down that way to be closer and heard over the winds. "Why are you measuring the house though? " he asked, now turning to the swarthier of the two, bowing his head politely

At the Elf's musical tones the sandy-haired lad grows even pinker - or perhaps it's the arrival of his master that does that, for by now the swarthy fellow has set his foot on the ground. With a long-suffering sigh the swarthy-skinned man holds out the cord to his young assistant, instructing simply, "Count it out and then note it down." Then he turns his attention to the Elf, one dark brow arching high. "Aye, I'd been asked to carry out a survey," he answers somewhat gruffly in speech that is singsong and perhaps somewhat different from that of the locals, lowering his gaze to his hands as he does. A brief pause, then, "I didn't know that Taurdain Suites had an elven visitor." It's spoken in the tone of a query as he glances at the brown-haired elf, taking in the unusual clothing, though not lingering on those intense blue eyes.

[Ormesir(#31473)] "I arrived a day or two, and have been keeping to myself before going out into your community. A survey. That's interesting." Ormesir remarked, glancing up to the houses' edge, and then back down. He folded his hands before him politely with a smile "Ormesir, Maethyr o Lothlorien at your service." he gave his name with a bow of the head.

The sandy-haired youth ducks his head and moves a little way away so that he can obediently start counting knots (though he steals an awed glance at the Elf every now and then).

The older, swarthy-skinned fellow glances up sharply at Ormesir's recitation of name and title. "Mother of what?" Dark brows are furrowed as he takes in the clearly male personage before him.

Belatedly courtesy catches up with him; he ducks his head slightly and offers simply, "The name's Brev. A carpenter. Though I'm not sure I could be of much service to one of Elf-kind."

[Ormesir(#31473)] "It means Sentinel of Lothlorien. I'm a guardsman usually." Explained Ormesir, his smil widening "I never thought of how similar it was to your word for 'mother' though. I guess like a mother, we do watch over our home dont we? And no, I dont need a carpenter at this time I think. You never know though, if I come by this way again. What is your assistants' name? " he asked curiously of Brev.

The confused frown lifts a little, though it does not clear entirely. "'Sentinel' I know, at least," the man named Brev answers, puzzling it through in silence a little longer and then giving up on 'Lothlorien'. "Your home is the forest to the west? The Mirk wood? That's a fair journey to make." Perhaps the brusque words hold a hint of admiration.

The other question is answered with a lopsided grin. "The lad over there who's busy pretending he doesn't exist is Ottar. He has the makings of a good carpenter, if he can stop blushing like a girl." Poor Ottar stares at his boots and winces.

[Ormesir(#31473)] "Beyond Mirkwood. Lothlorien - south and west. Men do not go there. And we rarely come out - but sometimes we must, to deliver messages for our queen." explains Ormesir simply. Then he smiles at Ottar and bows his head to the youth "I can see that. At your service, Apprentice Ottar." he explains. "Mirkwood is my next destination after Erebor. I thought I would stay and experience Dale though before moving on. So far its quite interesting!"

"Ah." There's a flat finality to that word, and Brev asks no more questions about the elf's homeland."

Ottar, still rather pink, lifts his gaze and manages to stammer out, "At y-y-yours, Master Ormsure." Then he glances down at the rope in his hands. "T-twentythree," he murmurs, then, "n-n-, four?" Hastily he begins to count those knots for the second time.

At least Brev does not reprimand the lad. "You'd visit the Dwarves?" he asks the Elf, a hint of surprise in his singsong tones. "I'd heard that - ah, that you and they didn't get on. At least, so claim the tales. Not that I've seen much of either kin, there are none round where I grew up."

Ormesir shrugs "There's some irritation between the two. We are both very different. But we're hardly at war. They make many good things that even some Elves will admit to admiring." he explains simply, then offers an apologetic smile "i suppose I should say I'm merely the messenger. Where did you grow up then that there are neither dwarf nor elf?"

Brev's lips twitch slightly at that mention of 'different'; hastily the man rearranges his features back to a neutral expression. "Aye, I've got one Dwarven blade myself," he agrees to the rest of the explanation. "Holds a good keen edge. And I grew up west of the Mountains, where," one side of his mouth curls up slightly in a sardonic half-smile as he reuses Ormesir's words of earlier, "wise men don't go. Not much there but bare rock, foul weather and an overdose of goblins." His tone is contemptuous. "Not like here - have you seen much of the town? What're your interests?" In the blink of an eye the disgust he must hold toward his birthplace is replaced by a note of cautious welcome.

[Ormesir(#31473)] "I've seen a little the day I arrived, and last night. I had an... accident of sorts, so had to wait until I was washed up. I decided i should try to make a half-decent impression of Lorien Elves here." chortles Ormesir, glancing down to the borrowd clothes "Oh. My hobbies? Right now I enjoy music. Just a little harp playing and singing. I brought it with me of course, in case I find an opportunity to play. And of course, horsemanship, archery and the usual, but those are more part of the job. Ahh, and hunting! West of the Mountains? There's a lot of things west of the mountains. A long way from home."

Accident? At that word Brev's brows shoot up, but he manages to restrain his tongue from enquiring further. The list of hobbies leaves him shaking his head. "I doubt you'd ever have time to be bored," he mutters drily, then clears his throat. "Anyway, as far as music goes, there's a minstrel's guild but it's a little down at heel. They had some ... uh, financial worries a few years back." Hurriedly he pushes on. "There's singing in the tavern sometimes, and also songs and tales are often shared in the Great Hall. Any you felt inclined to share would be welcomed. There's one bard in House Taurdain, Lady Arla - she has a small child though, we never hear her sing any more." His mouth turns down slightly at that statement. "For horses you'd do well to visit House Karath, they're keen riders. As is Lady Isobel Taurdain - have you met her?" The breakneck rattling off of Dale's attractions stops as he glances to Ormesir in query.

[Ormesir(#31473)] "I did yes, she was the first Dalelander I met! A pleasant woman indeed." Replied the elf with a smile as the information flood ended briefly. "I dont know if I will have enough time to partake in all my hobbies while in Dale. Business first ou konw, but thank you for the information. I'll definitely seek out the bardic hall and visit the Tavern again. I'm glad to reassure you that Dales' hospitality was not overestimated."

"She is indeed," Brev agrees to the first words, his lips suddenly curving in a smile that is rather softer than the earlier smirks. Abruptly he shakes his head as though to clear it. "Dale's hospitality would be even better if passing carpenters didn't keep you standing in the street," he states drily. "So I won't delay you any further - I hope you enjoy your stay. And that the town hears some of those songs or tales." He inclines his head in seeming farewell, then calls out to his apprentice, "Ottar, are you done with that rope yet?"

The apprentice, reddening anew, tears his gaze from the elf and nods.

[Ormesir(#31473)] "I will try to share at least two." promises Ormesir, bowing to both "Off I go then,and thank you - I did not mind the delay this time! Good luck with your survey!" he states, turning to depart at that.


Date added: 2014-11-28 09:34:51    Hits: 76
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