Elendor
Who was that masked Beorning?
Hooded and loosely bound, a group of Beornings are led...into Lorien??
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Outskirts of Lorien
Description: [Galharth(#28711)]
Late is the hour, and strange things wander the woods. Time seems to have slowed, if indeed it moves at all. A thick mist creeps along the ground, and a gentle breeze blows in the air sending the leaves overhead into a gentle sway as if dancing. A strange sound fills the air, almost as if something calls out in a haunting whisper. Such things are the makings of legends or tales of fright. Into this, several hooded humans are escorted by silent guards, or perhaps by ghosts. Blind as they are, it is hard to tell.
For the firstborn, it is a homecoming. A dark sky speckled with bright stars can be seen from the forest path and the sound is as a sweet song that welcomes them home. Smiling, the Tailor Galharth walks along with the humans.
There are only a few Beorning that have ventured into the wood at the last: Many refused or else were excused by Mobeorn, so that now only a handful remain. The humans and Mobeorn move without saying a word, letting the elves guide them, though for some at least, the tension and aprehension about this journey is thick in the air. On and on they walk, or seemingly so, and for Mobeorn, not seeing seems to especially bother him, though he does sniff the air repeatedly. Then at last he must speak: "Are we there yet?"
[Celeborn(#25510)] All is not entirely silent within the forest of the wood elves, nor is the activity left to those of furried nature and whiskered face. As the weary travelers and their guests enter the woodland realm another group appears, seemingly materializing out of thin air on the path. It is a small group, insignificant in number, and clad like any of the elven guards.
Then those at the front of the group step aside to let one within their ranks step forward, one that stands a full head taller than those around him, but otherwise insignificant in stature or dress. In his hand is held a bow, though he carries it casually and not nocked at the humans. "Yes," the silver-haired ellon says in response to Mobeorn, "You have arrived."
[<#23897>] Cecilia has been nothing less than a complete nervous wreck from the moment the blindfolds and hoods came out. Her hands were shaking before they ever bound them and the Beorning healer has only grown more afraid with each step. Any snapping twig, bird call, or seemingly normal sound has become rather dark and sinister in the golden wood. The haunting whispers only enhance her terror and whatever poor guide is stuck with the young woman will be needing to drag her along before too long. She speaks in her native tongue in a strained whisper, "(Eothrik) I changed my mind, Mobeorn. I can't do this!" The Beorning tries now to worm her hands free of the bonds when a musical voice speaks. Arrived?! She gives up on trying to work out of the binding and reaches up frantically instead with the intent to yank the hood off. There is little grace for the terrified.
[Ranaentaure(#12575)]
Among the elven guides, Ranaentaure moves at the group's fringe. Alert, he paces alongside the main group of elves and humans some little distance off among the trees where his eyes and ears won't be distracted by the sights and sounds of the others. At the arrival of Celeborn and his guards the hunter pauses, turning his back on the group to put his attention fully on the dark forest around.
[Galharth(#28711)]
"Stay your hands, Cecilia," Galharth says firmly as he reaches forth to still the nervous woman's fidgeting. "We have more walking to do." Turning towards the Lord, the Tailor, lowers his head and touches a hand to his chest. Saying nothing, he looks up to offer Celeborn a smile, for it is clear that the Craftmaster is pleased to be home.
"Ah..." Mobeorn sniffs the air a little from under his hood, though the expression in his voice does not change. "That's not a voice I've heard before in our traveling party. Does that mean..."
The beijabar's question is forestalled by the sound of Galharth speaking to Cecilia. "Is somethign wrong?"
[Celeborn(#25510)] "There is only a problem," Celeborn warns, "If the maiden's hands do not find their way off the hood." Those of his party advance and pass the travelers, melting into the shadows of the surrounding trees and disappearing from view. The Lord of Lorien nods to Galharth, a hint of a smile for those who have returned. It is to they that he now speaks.
"We heard of your return a few days past, a word upon the wind that carried glad tidings to those who have been waiting." Concern crosses his features, "But it was long in coming. I count myself among the concerned, one of those who was prepared to travel out to meet you."
[<#23897>] The tailor seems to be overestimating the self-control of a Beorning, or at least this one. 'No.. we're here! I want to see again!' Cecilia has a heavy tone of desperation, her words shaking almost as much as she is. She fights Galharth's grip, trying to pull away as her bound hands reach for the hood again. Mobeorn's question gets a distressed response. "(Eothrik) Everything is wrong! They won't let me-.. I can't do this!" The words of Celeborn don't seem to count for much. The young woman is afraid and has no idea who is speaking to her.
[Ranaentaure(#12575)]
The commotion in the group draws Ranaentaure's attention from his vigil over the wood, and he turns to pace back toward the group of travelers. He watches Cecilia's panic with cold eyes, then his gaze passes from her to Galharth as if he expects the tailor to translate the woman's hysterics.
[Elladan(#27059)] Another elf walks up to the group, out of the trees. Cheerful is he and his cloak reflects the colours of the woods around him. A raven head looks at the travellers and their escort, then he leaps forward to Celeborn. There he bows with a smile. In the elven tongue, he says: "Mae govannen, grandfather. We have returned to the Dreamflower, Elrohir and I. He stays with the order at the fences but soon he might follow me to Caras Galadhon." Then he changes to the Common Tongue: "The forests are too tempting, he explains to the guests, "I had to stray from the path and enjoy the fresh air."
[Galharth(#28711)]
"A few incidents were encountered," Galharth says softly in Sindarin as his focus is drawn entirely towards the frantic woman. "Cecilia!" he says firmly in common as he draws nearer to the Beorning so to make his grip upon her hands firmer. "Do not let fear control you, you are safe so long as you remain blindfolded."
On the arrival of Elladan, the Craftmaster glances briefly to see the reunion, but is forced to focus upon the healer. "Calm, Cecilia, time for sight will come, but not now."
[Halla(#30997)] One of the Beornings, who has hitherto made her presence felt mainly by grunts, mutters sourly at Elladan's words, "Oh aye? You'd not be enjoying it if /you/ were got up like this. Fresh air? This hood smells of ... of elf." The grumblings subside into incoherent mutterings, and a hiss of breath as she turns toward Elladan's voice, away from her guide's pulling, and stubs a toe.
At the words of the others--especially the two Beorning women--Mobeorn sighs loudly. "(Eothrik) For shame!" he snaps in their general direction. "(Eothrik) You both knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to these restrictions. Noone forced you to come to these woods and you were given every opportunity to turn around. You know that we are here because the the enemy threat that grows around us--that's far more important than any discomfort or what your hood smells like or the fact that you can't see!" He ends his words in a low growl.
Celeborn's smile grows slightly as Elladan approaches, his eyes never straying far from the humans. It is in the tongue of the elves that he replies. "Your return is, as always, a reason for joy, no matter what the circumstances may be. A feast we shall have for you both, if ever we can lure your brother from our borders."
Galharth's words bring a hint of trouble to his eyes, a deepening of glance that is directed at the strangers. "Not from them, I gather?" His tone is tinged with amusement, "As a hinderance, they might work well, but they do not look like much of a danger. You can tell me later of what dangers crossed your path, but for now...." He nods to the visitors and switches to the common tongue, "Please, do tell me what we have, here."
[<#23897>] Cecilia isn't in the best position to fight against Galharth, and she has no desire to hurt anyone. Her efforts to pull the hood away are restrained, but the healer is still shaking in fear. Mobeorn verbally lashes out at them and Ceci responds quickly, "(Eothrik) I know what I said then, but.. I'm sorry! I can't! It doesn't feel right! Something is wrong! I'm a coward, I know!" She speaks to her guide now, her voice barely a muffled whisper through the hood. 'Please, Galharth.. Why not now?'
[<#27059>] "(Eothrik) A coward would not have entered these woods after all, Cecilia. There more courage in you than you might think and maybe you will find it here," remarks Elladan to the Beornings. As the returns to the lord of Lorien, he smiles in return and nods. ''How fares Finarfin's daughter?'' He asks him in Westron.
[Ranaentaure(#12575)]
As Galharth and the other guards seem to have their human charges in hand, Ranaentaure turns from the group and fades into the woods again to keep watch over the night around.
[<#30997>] "(Eothrik) Mmph," is the Beorning grumbler's response to Mobeorn's words, as she regains her footing and responds to her guide's patient tug. "(Eothrik) Come quietly so far, haven't I? It's just when our friend here," sarcasm creeps into her tone, "(Eothrik) prances up boasting of his freedom ... maybe I should have one of them stick a clothespeg on your nose and see how you like being deprived of your senses. Or on mine, come to that. Even better." Her last words seem to amuse her, for she chuckles aloud. Switching to Common she calls out petulantly, 'Are we nearly there?'
[Galharth(#28711)]
"Not from them," the Tailor says in Sindarin, "but from their healers reactions, one might think so." Turning his attentions back to the woman, he shakes his head. "For your safety, Cecilia....trust me. If you resist, you will be removed and taken back to those who wait outside our lands." Galharth says firmly in common.
With that said, he turns towards Celeborn. "Should I have her removed?" He asks in Sindarin. He opens his mouth to speak again, but falls silent as Halla repeats Mobeorn's earlier question. "You're people are an impatient lot," he says aloud in common.
[Celeborn(#25510)] "Lovely as the stars, bright as the sun, as peaceful as a summer wind, and dangerous as the sea," Celeborn replies with a grin, "The same as always. What of your father and sister? It has been long since she graced us with her presence, and I know her grandmother would gladly welcome the distraction."
He turns to join the southern path, waving those gathered to lead both elves and humans deeper into the heart of the woods. His voice rises above night sounds of creature and insect, alike, to support Galharth's comments in the common language. "You are here, healthy and in one piece, which should bring you happiness. What happens from here on out depends on you and on the whim of the Galadhrim. Impatience will not get you far, certainly no further into our lands so might I suggest that you allow us to deal with you as we must, and push our patience no further? You will find that we are gracious hosts when given the chance.
(Eothrik)"They protect their lands, as we protect the pass. We charge tolls--would you have us not do so? They don't let outsiders see the way into their lands--we agreed to this and they're entitled to do so," Mobeorn answers Halla first, sounding exasperated. "Or, if you like, I will ask them to bring you back out and you can sit and wait for the rest of us to return?" he grumbles.
Cecilia draws his attention next. (Eothrik) "If you would like, I will ask them if you can hold my hand. You've made it this far...or you can leave." He speaks to her more quietly, his voice having lost the grumbling.
Finally, Mobeorn answers Galharth, though it is in Westron. "They are fearful. Perhaps they're not meant to go to your lands. I do so only because Grimbeorn asked me to. They have no such charge on them."
Cecilia seems to calm some as she gets reassurance from several sides. She fumbles blindly with her hands for a moment until she finds Galharth's hand, wrist, or whatever. The thought of leaving to go back alone is more terrifying than staying here near Mobeorn. 'I'll stay..' She says in a small voice.
[Elladan(#27059)] "Alas, Arwen is tied up with the House Guild. Moreover she dreads the Pass," says Elladan as he walks on. "But she does long to visit you. Father - he bears his usual burden, the ford and the pass. Yet is was with great delight that he send our singers to the Tower Hills. But more of that later, on the hill, I daresay."
[Halla(#30997)] Galharth's final comment elicits a response from the Beorning grumbler. "Comes of never knowing when the next goblin attack will be," she informs him sagely in Common. "We live for the moment - some of us anyway. Can't just sit around waiting for leaves to drop. So ... /are/ we there yet? Just /tell/ me." Her grumbling voice turns plaintive.
At Mobeorn's words she exclaims, "(Eothrik)Bear's balls! Said I was coming, didn't I? Why're you so eager to get rid of me all of a sudden?" Suspicion creeps into her tone there, and her hooded head turns in the Beijabar's direction.
[Galharth(#28711)]
Nodding to Mobeorn, though the Beorning can not see, Galharth sighs softly. "Strange times require strange arrangements. Let them focus on patience instead of their fears, as has been suggested." Patting Cecilia's hand, he offers a soft whisper, "All will be well."
Following the group, the Craftmaster gently guilds the healer. "We've much in the way of news to share, and many who are eager to tell." he calls out in sindarin.
"(Eothrik) Oh by the Great Bear himself!" Mobeorn grumbles toward Halla. "Get a grip on yourself, woman. I'm eager to get rid of your incessant complaining. It's hurting my head. Now we'll get there when we get there and not a minute sooner. They already told us we're in their lands but there are many paths to be walked before they can take the hoods off."
The shapeshifter snorts loudly, then rumbles to himself in a low bear growl. "(Atliduk) And they wonder why I don't spend more time in the village...."
Cecilia says nothing more for now. She's too busy trying to hear everything around her and control her fear. The healer continues to cling to Galharth in a deathgrip, not relaxing much but at least moving at a better pace now.
[<#27059>] Elladan casts a glance at Celeborn. "(Quenya) I wonder if Galharth was right to bring the mortals here. Their fear and anger spoils the Golden Wood" he speaks in a strange tongue that is more melodic and wondrous than that of the Grey elves. A questioning looks then given to the tailor.
[Celeborn(#25510)] "It is easily understandable that your sister would hesitate in the face of such a daunting trek," Celeborn says to Elladan as he walks along the path. "You will let her know that, should she so desire, I will personally make sure that the journey is an easy one, with the best of the Galadhrim guard to guide her."
He is but a hint of a figure along the path, their way cloaked in shadow so that, even if not blindfolded, one would be hard-pressed to find a way either in or out of the darkening woods. "I look forward to hearing word of what goes on outside our borders, Galharth, and not only to gain an answer to the why that nags at me each time I look at the group that you have brought along. There is no doubt in my mind that it is a tale that shall be repeated many times over, if only for curiosity's sake, and one that will leave us in a greater state of wonderment than we now feel."
Responding to the anxiety that is almost palpable coming from the visitors, he says blithely in common, "It is not much further, now: only a couple of miles to our first stop."
[Halla(#30997)] "(Eothrik)Fine," the grumbling Halla snaps back in Mobeorn's direction, but the sigh she heaves immediately afterwards sounds suspiciously like ... relief? For a while she concentrates simply on putting one foot in front of the other, and following her guide's directions, but at Celeborn's answer she halts briefly and mumbles in the Common speech, "Thank you. At last, a straight answer! I'll pester you folk no further until we get there, then." There is a jaunty spring in her step as she continues the march.
[Galharth(#28711)]
Allowing the grip, though from the coloration of his hand and finger it is uncomfortable, Galharth moves along behind those who lead. Humming softly, almost in time with the sweet sounds of home, he looks around in true appreciation for the wood he calls home.
Cecilia tightens her already vice-grip when one of the elves says it's a couple more miles. She can't distinguish any of the voices that well, the elves all sound the same. "Miles?.." The question is more a rhetorical whine of suffering than a concrete response. "Where is Mobeorn? Can I walk with him? Please?"
Elladan nods at Celeborn's words. "The Tirith Imladhrim and the Order will ensure her a safe voyage. I do wonder where our archers are right now," he muses while skimming the woods. "They must feel the same urge as I did. Twenty of our cuthalionath went with us to see Lothlorien."
Halla's answer to the elves somehow gives Mobeorn more cause to grumble, but it's nothing that he actually gives voice to. "Aye, let her walk with me," he then calls at Cecilia's question. "If it can be allowed, at least." He is quiet a moment to think, then rumbles toward the sound of Celeborn's voice, "there is much to tell about troubles in the outside world...but there is something bothering you?" The skinchanger's hooded head tilts at that. "Perhaps it's not my place to ask."
[Halla(#30997)] Halla keeps her promise. Not another word does she speak on the way to the rest stop - though the occasional grunt does escape her lips as she walks, brought on no doubt by the path under her feet or that infernal elvish babbling. When Mobeorn speaks she turns her hooded head that way and lets out a long low 'Hrrrm'. Apparently she's thinking about something.
[Galharth(#28711)]
"He is to your left a few paces." Galharth replies to the healer. Shifting his pace, he guides her nearer to the leader of the human group. "Let go your hand from me and turn towards your left and you should be able to reach him." Does the Tailor sound a bit too eager to unite the humans? At the sound Halla makes, his gaze shifts slightly and he tilts his head in wonder.
Cecilia lets Galharth have his hand back, reaching out for Mobeorn when he guides her to the shapeshifter. The healer gladly clings to him instead, letting the beijibar suffer her less than gentle way of expressing her fear. But whatever panic that had gripped her earlier has passed and she too makes the rest of the journey in quiet, offering no more trouble or complaint.
[Celeborn(#25510)] And so the party travels on, their conversations rising and falling as often as the ground at their feet. It is with a gentle heart and hand that the visitors are directed along the winding paths, their elven guides leading them safely and securely (and with only the most minor of bumps along the way) to the first stop on their way to the elven city of Caras Galadhon.
And though the way is long by most standards, it is sooner than all might think that they arrive atop a grassy mound lined with trees. Hoods are removed... at least for a little while.
Late is the hour, and strange things wander the woods. Time seems to have slowed, if indeed it moves at all. A thick mist creeps along the ground, and a gentle breeze blows in the air sending the leaves overhead into a gentle sway as if dancing. A strange sound fills the air, almost as if something calls out in a haunting whisper. Such things are the makings of legends or tales of fright. Into this, several hooded humans are escorted by silent guards, or perhaps by ghosts. Blind as they are, it is hard to tell.
For the firstborn, it is a homecoming. A dark sky speckled with bright stars can be seen from the forest path and the sound is as a sweet song that welcomes them home. Smiling, the Tailor Galharth walks along with the humans.
There are only a few Beorning that have ventured into the wood at the last: Many refused or else were excused by Mobeorn, so that now only a handful remain. The humans and Mobeorn move without saying a word, letting the elves guide them, though for some at least, the tension and aprehension about this journey is thick in the air. On and on they walk, or seemingly so, and for Mobeorn, not seeing seems to especially bother him, though he does sniff the air repeatedly. Then at last he must speak: "Are we there yet?"
[Celeborn(#25510)] All is not entirely silent within the forest of the wood elves, nor is the activity left to those of furried nature and whiskered face. As the weary travelers and their guests enter the woodland realm another group appears, seemingly materializing out of thin air on the path. It is a small group, insignificant in number, and clad like any of the elven guards.
Then those at the front of the group step aside to let one within their ranks step forward, one that stands a full head taller than those around him, but otherwise insignificant in stature or dress. In his hand is held a bow, though he carries it casually and not nocked at the humans. "Yes," the silver-haired ellon says in response to Mobeorn, "You have arrived."
[<#23897>] Cecilia has been nothing less than a complete nervous wreck from the moment the blindfolds and hoods came out. Her hands were shaking before they ever bound them and the Beorning healer has only grown more afraid with each step. Any snapping twig, bird call, or seemingly normal sound has become rather dark and sinister in the golden wood. The haunting whispers only enhance her terror and whatever poor guide is stuck with the young woman will be needing to drag her along before too long. She speaks in her native tongue in a strained whisper, "(Eothrik) I changed my mind, Mobeorn. I can't do this!" The Beorning tries now to worm her hands free of the bonds when a musical voice speaks. Arrived?! She gives up on trying to work out of the binding and reaches up frantically instead with the intent to yank the hood off. There is little grace for the terrified.
[Ranaentaure(#12575)]
Among the elven guides, Ranaentaure moves at the group's fringe. Alert, he paces alongside the main group of elves and humans some little distance off among the trees where his eyes and ears won't be distracted by the sights and sounds of the others. At the arrival of Celeborn and his guards the hunter pauses, turning his back on the group to put his attention fully on the dark forest around.
[Galharth(#28711)]
"Stay your hands, Cecilia," Galharth says firmly as he reaches forth to still the nervous woman's fidgeting. "We have more walking to do." Turning towards the Lord, the Tailor, lowers his head and touches a hand to his chest. Saying nothing, he looks up to offer Celeborn a smile, for it is clear that the Craftmaster is pleased to be home.
"Ah..." Mobeorn sniffs the air a little from under his hood, though the expression in his voice does not change. "That's not a voice I've heard before in our traveling party. Does that mean..."
The beijabar's question is forestalled by the sound of Galharth speaking to Cecilia. "Is somethign wrong?"
[Celeborn(#25510)] "There is only a problem," Celeborn warns, "If the maiden's hands do not find their way off the hood." Those of his party advance and pass the travelers, melting into the shadows of the surrounding trees and disappearing from view. The Lord of Lorien nods to Galharth, a hint of a smile for those who have returned. It is to they that he now speaks.
"We heard of your return a few days past, a word upon the wind that carried glad tidings to those who have been waiting." Concern crosses his features, "But it was long in coming. I count myself among the concerned, one of those who was prepared to travel out to meet you."
[<#23897>] The tailor seems to be overestimating the self-control of a Beorning, or at least this one. 'No.. we're here! I want to see again!' Cecilia has a heavy tone of desperation, her words shaking almost as much as she is. She fights Galharth's grip, trying to pull away as her bound hands reach for the hood again. Mobeorn's question gets a distressed response. "(Eothrik) Everything is wrong! They won't let me-.. I can't do this!" The words of Celeborn don't seem to count for much. The young woman is afraid and has no idea who is speaking to her.
[Ranaentaure(#12575)]
The commotion in the group draws Ranaentaure's attention from his vigil over the wood, and he turns to pace back toward the group of travelers. He watches Cecilia's panic with cold eyes, then his gaze passes from her to Galharth as if he expects the tailor to translate the woman's hysterics.
[Elladan(#27059)] Another elf walks up to the group, out of the trees. Cheerful is he and his cloak reflects the colours of the woods around him. A raven head looks at the travellers and their escort, then he leaps forward to Celeborn. There he bows with a smile. In the elven tongue, he says: "Mae govannen, grandfather. We have returned to the Dreamflower, Elrohir and I. He stays with the order at the fences but soon he might follow me to Caras Galadhon." Then he changes to the Common Tongue: "The forests are too tempting, he explains to the guests, "I had to stray from the path and enjoy the fresh air."
[Galharth(#28711)]
"A few incidents were encountered," Galharth says softly in Sindarin as his focus is drawn entirely towards the frantic woman. "Cecilia!" he says firmly in common as he draws nearer to the Beorning so to make his grip upon her hands firmer. "Do not let fear control you, you are safe so long as you remain blindfolded."
On the arrival of Elladan, the Craftmaster glances briefly to see the reunion, but is forced to focus upon the healer. "Calm, Cecilia, time for sight will come, but not now."
[Halla(#30997)] One of the Beornings, who has hitherto made her presence felt mainly by grunts, mutters sourly at Elladan's words, "Oh aye? You'd not be enjoying it if /you/ were got up like this. Fresh air? This hood smells of ... of elf." The grumblings subside into incoherent mutterings, and a hiss of breath as she turns toward Elladan's voice, away from her guide's pulling, and stubs a toe.
At the words of the others--especially the two Beorning women--Mobeorn sighs loudly. "(Eothrik) For shame!" he snaps in their general direction. "(Eothrik) You both knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to these restrictions. Noone forced you to come to these woods and you were given every opportunity to turn around. You know that we are here because the the enemy threat that grows around us--that's far more important than any discomfort or what your hood smells like or the fact that you can't see!" He ends his words in a low growl.
Celeborn's smile grows slightly as Elladan approaches, his eyes never straying far from the humans. It is in the tongue of the elves that he replies. "Your return is, as always, a reason for joy, no matter what the circumstances may be. A feast we shall have for you both, if ever we can lure your brother from our borders."
Galharth's words bring a hint of trouble to his eyes, a deepening of glance that is directed at the strangers. "Not from them, I gather?" His tone is tinged with amusement, "As a hinderance, they might work well, but they do not look like much of a danger. You can tell me later of what dangers crossed your path, but for now...." He nods to the visitors and switches to the common tongue, "Please, do tell me what we have, here."
[<#23897>] Cecilia isn't in the best position to fight against Galharth, and she has no desire to hurt anyone. Her efforts to pull the hood away are restrained, but the healer is still shaking in fear. Mobeorn verbally lashes out at them and Ceci responds quickly, "(Eothrik) I know what I said then, but.. I'm sorry! I can't! It doesn't feel right! Something is wrong! I'm a coward, I know!" She speaks to her guide now, her voice barely a muffled whisper through the hood. 'Please, Galharth.. Why not now?'
[<#27059>] "(Eothrik) A coward would not have entered these woods after all, Cecilia. There more courage in you than you might think and maybe you will find it here," remarks Elladan to the Beornings. As the returns to the lord of Lorien, he smiles in return and nods. ''How fares Finarfin's daughter?'' He asks him in Westron.
[Ranaentaure(#12575)]
As Galharth and the other guards seem to have their human charges in hand, Ranaentaure turns from the group and fades into the woods again to keep watch over the night around.
[<#30997>] "(Eothrik) Mmph," is the Beorning grumbler's response to Mobeorn's words, as she regains her footing and responds to her guide's patient tug. "(Eothrik) Come quietly so far, haven't I? It's just when our friend here," sarcasm creeps into her tone, "(Eothrik) prances up boasting of his freedom ... maybe I should have one of them stick a clothespeg on your nose and see how you like being deprived of your senses. Or on mine, come to that. Even better." Her last words seem to amuse her, for she chuckles aloud. Switching to Common she calls out petulantly, 'Are we nearly there?'
[Galharth(#28711)]
"Not from them," the Tailor says in Sindarin, "but from their healers reactions, one might think so." Turning his attentions back to the woman, he shakes his head. "For your safety, Cecilia....trust me. If you resist, you will be removed and taken back to those who wait outside our lands." Galharth says firmly in common.
With that said, he turns towards Celeborn. "Should I have her removed?" He asks in Sindarin. He opens his mouth to speak again, but falls silent as Halla repeats Mobeorn's earlier question. "You're people are an impatient lot," he says aloud in common.
[Celeborn(#25510)] "Lovely as the stars, bright as the sun, as peaceful as a summer wind, and dangerous as the sea," Celeborn replies with a grin, "The same as always. What of your father and sister? It has been long since she graced us with her presence, and I know her grandmother would gladly welcome the distraction."
He turns to join the southern path, waving those gathered to lead both elves and humans deeper into the heart of the woods. His voice rises above night sounds of creature and insect, alike, to support Galharth's comments in the common language. "You are here, healthy and in one piece, which should bring you happiness. What happens from here on out depends on you and on the whim of the Galadhrim. Impatience will not get you far, certainly no further into our lands so might I suggest that you allow us to deal with you as we must, and push our patience no further? You will find that we are gracious hosts when given the chance.
(Eothrik)"They protect their lands, as we protect the pass. We charge tolls--would you have us not do so? They don't let outsiders see the way into their lands--we agreed to this and they're entitled to do so," Mobeorn answers Halla first, sounding exasperated. "Or, if you like, I will ask them to bring you back out and you can sit and wait for the rest of us to return?" he grumbles.
Cecilia draws his attention next. (Eothrik) "If you would like, I will ask them if you can hold my hand. You've made it this far...or you can leave." He speaks to her more quietly, his voice having lost the grumbling.
Finally, Mobeorn answers Galharth, though it is in Westron. "They are fearful. Perhaps they're not meant to go to your lands. I do so only because Grimbeorn asked me to. They have no such charge on them."
Cecilia seems to calm some as she gets reassurance from several sides. She fumbles blindly with her hands for a moment until she finds Galharth's hand, wrist, or whatever. The thought of leaving to go back alone is more terrifying than staying here near Mobeorn. 'I'll stay..' She says in a small voice.
[Elladan(#27059)] "Alas, Arwen is tied up with the House Guild. Moreover she dreads the Pass," says Elladan as he walks on. "But she does long to visit you. Father - he bears his usual burden, the ford and the pass. Yet is was with great delight that he send our singers to the Tower Hills. But more of that later, on the hill, I daresay."
[Halla(#30997)] Galharth's final comment elicits a response from the Beorning grumbler. "Comes of never knowing when the next goblin attack will be," she informs him sagely in Common. "We live for the moment - some of us anyway. Can't just sit around waiting for leaves to drop. So ... /are/ we there yet? Just /tell/ me." Her grumbling voice turns plaintive.
At Mobeorn's words she exclaims, "(Eothrik)Bear's balls! Said I was coming, didn't I? Why're you so eager to get rid of me all of a sudden?" Suspicion creeps into her tone there, and her hooded head turns in the Beijabar's direction.
[Galharth(#28711)]
Nodding to Mobeorn, though the Beorning can not see, Galharth sighs softly. "Strange times require strange arrangements. Let them focus on patience instead of their fears, as has been suggested." Patting Cecilia's hand, he offers a soft whisper, "All will be well."
Following the group, the Craftmaster gently guilds the healer. "We've much in the way of news to share, and many who are eager to tell." he calls out in sindarin.
"(Eothrik) Oh by the Great Bear himself!" Mobeorn grumbles toward Halla. "Get a grip on yourself, woman. I'm eager to get rid of your incessant complaining. It's hurting my head. Now we'll get there when we get there and not a minute sooner. They already told us we're in their lands but there are many paths to be walked before they can take the hoods off."
The shapeshifter snorts loudly, then rumbles to himself in a low bear growl. "(Atliduk) And they wonder why I don't spend more time in the village...."
Cecilia says nothing more for now. She's too busy trying to hear everything around her and control her fear. The healer continues to cling to Galharth in a deathgrip, not relaxing much but at least moving at a better pace now.
[<#27059>] Elladan casts a glance at Celeborn. "(Quenya) I wonder if Galharth was right to bring the mortals here. Their fear and anger spoils the Golden Wood" he speaks in a strange tongue that is more melodic and wondrous than that of the Grey elves. A questioning looks then given to the tailor.
[Celeborn(#25510)] "It is easily understandable that your sister would hesitate in the face of such a daunting trek," Celeborn says to Elladan as he walks along the path. "You will let her know that, should she so desire, I will personally make sure that the journey is an easy one, with the best of the Galadhrim guard to guide her."
He is but a hint of a figure along the path, their way cloaked in shadow so that, even if not blindfolded, one would be hard-pressed to find a way either in or out of the darkening woods. "I look forward to hearing word of what goes on outside our borders, Galharth, and not only to gain an answer to the why that nags at me each time I look at the group that you have brought along. There is no doubt in my mind that it is a tale that shall be repeated many times over, if only for curiosity's sake, and one that will leave us in a greater state of wonderment than we now feel."
Responding to the anxiety that is almost palpable coming from the visitors, he says blithely in common, "It is not much further, now: only a couple of miles to our first stop."
[Halla(#30997)] "(Eothrik)Fine," the grumbling Halla snaps back in Mobeorn's direction, but the sigh she heaves immediately afterwards sounds suspiciously like ... relief? For a while she concentrates simply on putting one foot in front of the other, and following her guide's directions, but at Celeborn's answer she halts briefly and mumbles in the Common speech, "Thank you. At last, a straight answer! I'll pester you folk no further until we get there, then." There is a jaunty spring in her step as she continues the march.
[Galharth(#28711)]
Allowing the grip, though from the coloration of his hand and finger it is uncomfortable, Galharth moves along behind those who lead. Humming softly, almost in time with the sweet sounds of home, he looks around in true appreciation for the wood he calls home.
Cecilia tightens her already vice-grip when one of the elves says it's a couple more miles. She can't distinguish any of the voices that well, the elves all sound the same. "Miles?.." The question is more a rhetorical whine of suffering than a concrete response. "Where is Mobeorn? Can I walk with him? Please?"
Elladan nods at Celeborn's words. "The Tirith Imladhrim and the Order will ensure her a safe voyage. I do wonder where our archers are right now," he muses while skimming the woods. "They must feel the same urge as I did. Twenty of our cuthalionath went with us to see Lothlorien."
Halla's answer to the elves somehow gives Mobeorn more cause to grumble, but it's nothing that he actually gives voice to. "Aye, let her walk with me," he then calls at Cecilia's question. "If it can be allowed, at least." He is quiet a moment to think, then rumbles toward the sound of Celeborn's voice, "there is much to tell about troubles in the outside world...but there is something bothering you?" The skinchanger's hooded head tilts at that. "Perhaps it's not my place to ask."
[Halla(#30997)] Halla keeps her promise. Not another word does she speak on the way to the rest stop - though the occasional grunt does escape her lips as she walks, brought on no doubt by the path under her feet or that infernal elvish babbling. When Mobeorn speaks she turns her hooded head that way and lets out a long low 'Hrrrm'. Apparently she's thinking about something.
[Galharth(#28711)]
"He is to your left a few paces." Galharth replies to the healer. Shifting his pace, he guides her nearer to the leader of the human group. "Let go your hand from me and turn towards your left and you should be able to reach him." Does the Tailor sound a bit too eager to unite the humans? At the sound Halla makes, his gaze shifts slightly and he tilts his head in wonder.
Cecilia lets Galharth have his hand back, reaching out for Mobeorn when he guides her to the shapeshifter. The healer gladly clings to him instead, letting the beijibar suffer her less than gentle way of expressing her fear. But whatever panic that had gripped her earlier has passed and she too makes the rest of the journey in quiet, offering no more trouble or complaint.
[Celeborn(#25510)] And so the party travels on, their conversations rising and falling as often as the ground at their feet. It is with a gentle heart and hand that the visitors are directed along the winding paths, their elven guides leading them safely and securely (and with only the most minor of bumps along the way) to the first stop on their way to the elven city of Caras Galadhon.
And though the way is long by most standards, it is sooner than all might think that they arrive atop a grassy mound lined with trees. Hoods are removed... at least for a little while.
Players: Celeborn,Galharth,Elladan,Cecilia,Halla,Ranaentaure,Mobeorn
