Promotions and Other Talk

A group of elves talk on their way to Mithlond.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: The Silverlode Source
Game Date: 39 Ethuil
IC Time: Nighttime
Weather: Clear
Description: The moon rises now, a stark half-circle that ascends above the peaks of the Hithaeglir. Below, the streams shine as silver, flowing swiftly into unison: here, stretching out to the east, the Celebrant is born.
Deserted, this place begins to feel the chill of the melting snows -- little vegetation thrives among the rocks. And yet among the rocks, something moves. There are also fair voices in the air. Here, a camp of Elves pauses for the night.

Seated on a hillock of raised earth overlooking the crystalline stream is Belagos, appearing as though on fire, bathed in the moonlight reflected from its turbulant surface. A simple flute is pressed to his lips, and on it he trills a vibrant tune entwined with passion and exhileration.

A figure sits upon a rock on the edge of the camp. His eyes are turned up to the moon. To anyone else, it would seem that a phantom has planted himself upon the rock, but only the eyes of the elves could make out the barely distinguishable form of Thorhur. A smile crosses his lips as he slowly begins to sing to the tune of Belagos' flute.

In a small pack of leaves in the camp, an unmistakably elven figure is crouching , and surveying the area around the camp. Then, her elven ears hear a tune. A tune of a flute, a very sweet tune, and then, a voice. A voice unmistakably elven. She turns arround, revealing her face in the moonlight. The elf, who know can be recognized as Amalien, walks with small steps over to the source of the music, and starts listening to it.

Belagos readily plays in time with the voice of his fellow knight, smiling as he breathes life into his instrument. In a swift moment between notes he gestures to Amalien, inviting her to sing along as well.

Thorhur turns to Amalien and smiles, stopping his song for a moment. "The music is beautiful is it not elleth? It is always at this time of night when I love to sing the most." even as he says this he starts singing again, a bit softer now. He grins as he and Belagos fall in sync with each other, but he keeps his eyes upon Amalien.

From among the camp, soft fluttering changes may be detected near two horse, if one's eye is exceptionally keen. There is no sound to accompany the movement. Perhaps it is just a tease of the breeze, or a trick of the eye. Yet as Niinaeth wanders amidst the pair minds her motions, her long limbs like an ancient banner. She does not speak, simply moves bundles from horse to the next, distributing the load evenly. Occasionally a bottle is drawn from a bundle and wrapped in cloth before replaced and checked for sound.

Amalien smiles back at Thorhur, and says, "Indeed. The peace of the night is perfect for melody or song, or maybe both.". She listenes to the song, and then starts humming to the melody of Thorhur's singing. Her eye catches Niinaeth moving and distributing things, but then she returns her gaze to the singer and the musician.

As time passes, the melody changes, flying higher and faster with the rapidity of Belagos' fingers over the flute-keys, until it reaches a crescendo and begins again, now gentle and languid. The glittering stream takes on a new quality, perhaps, and the nightly breeze a bit cooler to touch.

Perhaps she has been nearby all the while, or perhaps she has only just arrived but Nioniel quietly makes her pressance known to the musicians at last. Standing somewhat near Niinaeth amongst the horses, she strokes her own mare, Alphiriel's silky white mane lovingly one last time before turning to leave and head over to the others. Alphiriel does not appreciate being abandoned apparently though because she suddenly snorts and butts Nioniel in the back, causing the elleth to pitch forward sharply.

Thorhur turns to Amalien. "You have a beautiful voice elleth. Do you love to sing?" even as he says this, he sees Alphiriel pitch Nioniel forward. Thorhur's eyes grow wide and he lunges forward. He grabs Nioniel and looks at her. He blushes and feels hot suddenly. "N-Nioniel," he stutters, "are you all right?"

Amalien chuckles, while looking at the somewhat humorous situation, "Your mare does not enjoy being left alone? Good thing you are in.. good hands now.", chuckles once more, and then says "I love to sing and dance. I was thinking of joining you, but I decided to listen to just listen to the sweet melody.".

The Minister simply laughs lightly at Nioniel and speaks softly, "You have already offended this trip I see." A playful wink is given the elleth and she turns attention to back to the horses, speaking in a acient language. A few shakes to the load on each horse and she turns toward the group.

Nioniel is rather stunned, and shoots a backwards annoyed glance at the mare. Looking back at Thorhur, she tries to force back an embarrassed blush from her pale features when Amalien and Niinaeth speak. Gently freeing herself from Thorhur's grasp, she tries to straighten herself out again and chuckles: "Of course I am alright, thank you, mellon ...and no," she grins at Amalien, "She dislikes not being the centre of attention, I fear."

The Knight grins. He stares for just a little too long at Nioniel before turning back to Amalien, to whom he raises an eyebrow. "Have you ever thought of pursuing music as a career? If you love to sing, then you may want to join the ranks of the bards." this is all said in a very soft voice so as not to attract too much attention.

Amalien smiles "I would wish that very much indeed, but not only I can sing.. a lute I can play with skill as well.", and then she once again humms to Belagos' melody.

Still self-conscious, Nioniel smiles weakly and heads over to where the others are singing and playing so skillfully. Quietly taking a seat, the elleth straightens out her deep blue skirts and seems to magically withdraw a small sewing project from the cloth knapsack she keeps slung across her shoulder. From the horses, the light rustle of paws comes trotting over to her, and a small, fawn coloured dog bounds into the group of elves gleefully. His tail wags rapidly and he sniffs ar everyone's feet in turn as if making his security rounds for the evening.

Thorhur pauses for a moment as if in deep thought. He then smiles and says in the manner of a herald, "Rise then Amalien! For I now name you a Learner of the Glirdain of Lothlorien!" he stops for dramatic tension, then continues with his hands raised, "May you continue the study of music and song, and may you bare this title well."
Even as he says this Thorhur turns to Nioniel and smiles at the dog, then addresses everyone. "I am sorry, but I'm going to move ahead just a bit and see what's around here. I will be back shortly. And congratulations Amalien." The Knight walks off along the outskirts of the camp, looking back over his shoulder one last time before disappearing into the darkness.

When Thorhur disappears from her sight, she throws off her gaze, and looks at the rest of the group, then turns her gaze to the musician, and starts singing to the melody in a tone that is not high, but not too low, either, but still sweet.

Calion bounds a few paces after Thorhur as the ellon departs into the darkness, barking sharply after him as if to say, "Hey! Come back here and play!" But alas, he has gone, and the dog returns to the group, flopping down before Amalien. Nioniel smiles brightly at the elleth and says softly: "Congratulations! I'm sure that you will make a fine bard one day, you have such a gift for music..." Breaking off shyly, she returns to plying her needle to the project in her lap.

Amalien stops singing, and looks at Nioniel, smiling, "Thank you, a gift for music I may have, but much to learn I still have. The masters will teach me, and I am quite a fast learner.", she turns around, and gazes into the dark forrest, and listens to the nocturnal birds singing, and the other natural sounds, "I play a lute better then I sing, though.", she looks back at Nioniel again, and says "What do you think of the Bard's Congress? Have you been there before? I have not.".

Looking up from her work, Nioniel shakes her head, "No, I have never been outside of the borders of Lorien before..." her voice trails off and she seems rather pale, even in the dim light. "But I look forward to it!" she says, brightening a little, "I know that we may well meet some of our friends along the way, and perhaps even some when we arrive at our destination."
Chuckling, she holds up the sewing in her hands and grins, "Alas, all I am good for on this trip is keeping the clothing in one piece."
Players: Amalien,Belagos,Niinaeth,Maglind,Thorhur,Nioniel
Located in: Galadhrim