Log file from elendor.

11/9/98 10:05:11 PM

Great Stand of Beeches

Sweeping around a southeasterly bend in her course, the Taurduin river encircles a great stand of beeches that rise tall and proud with her embrace of clear-rushing water. Her banks are spanned by a stout stone bridge to the southwest, and over it crosses a well travelled path straight to the huge cave mouth to the northeast, at last taking a direct route after the tortuous twisting it endured in the depths of Mirkwood on the other side. Not so fortunate, a smaller path follows along the river's banks to the east, soon winding out of sight among the dense trees.

The trees, limbs interlacing overhead into one large canopy, rise impossibly massive and tall, just as pillars carven in the likeness of beeches once rose to the ceilings of the thousand caves of Menegroth. Their limbs spread wide to the autumn sky, their lengths awash with broad flat leaves of rich purple clinging tenuously to their perches in the autumn breezes. Down between their sprawling feet, the ground is a ruddy circus of sun-touched leaves, putting up one last fight before the winter snows come to rob the trees of all bright color. The mid morning air is sharp among the trees.

Slender shafts of sunlight pierce through the thick canopy, some lucky ones finding their way through the maze of limb and bough to cast their dappled light on the forest floor. The autumn sky overhead is clear and blue.

The sun shines brightly in the clear autumn sky and

the air seems to carry a creeping darkness from Dol Guldur.

The sun's cheerful rays try to warm the cool air.

A cool autumn breeze lightly carries golden birch leaves which make a slow and easy descent to the ground.

Coincidentally, also moving along at a slow and easy pace, southward from the area of the beech homes, and here seen moving along the ground, is a tall elf with bright orange hair. He appears fresh and clean as the cool breeze under the warm sun, even though his attire is just the opposite.

Grey Squirrel enters from the training hall.

Grey Squirrel darts across the path, chasing another, rather fat squirrel, and is soon out of sight again.

Grey Squirrel heads towards the elven homes.

Grey Squirrel has left.

Perched among the lower branches of a slender beech, her back resting against the trunk of the tree, Khillaure slowly picks the dying leaves off the branch that she is sitting on and lets them drop to the ground. She blends in well with her surroundings and, were it not for a low humming comming from above, you might just walk right past without noticing her.

...And that's just what Rhuarc almost does, too. However, as his sharp and well trained elven ears force him to, he glances up, and sees Khillaure humming up in her perch. Not quite recognizing her from his distance, angle, and her blending attire, he simply states, "Lucky for you it isn't mating season, else you'd likely be in quite a bit of trouble, I fear."

From the grounds dedicated to the Tirith-o-Eryn, a third wandering elf steps out into the late morning sun. A soft muttering about useless archer-wannabes heralds his arrival, testament to the work that the Caunen has been doing with a group of Gwain, or perhaps even worse, a spearbearer or two. So intent is he on his thoughts that it takes him a few steps to realize that he has heard Rhuarc's voice, and he looks up just in time for the wind to blow a leaf into his face. "Mating season, Rhuarc? I would hope I have nothing to fear from you during that time..."

Rhuarc shakes his head, gesturing up towards the elven lady up in the low branges of the beech tree, "No danger from me at all, mellon, I was instead referring to our good humming-bird up in the tree. During such a season, she would doubtlessly attact quite a flock onto her head and shoulders."

Startled at the sound of someone speaking to her, Khillaure almost looses her balance and falls from her perch, sending the branch swaying slightly. She reaches out quickly to stop the motion and in the process drops a small bunch of old and moldy leaves and, with a nervous titter of laughter, she glances down in time to see that it is the crimson haired Rhuarc standing in the path of the homage to fall. Her giggle becomes a full fledged guffaw at his impromptu shower.

"But, since it isn't mating season," Rhuarc states, shaking his head as he is soon covered with leaves which carry the sweet odor of autumn decay, "It appears that only my head and shoulders are in danger of attracting anything from above." He laughs, looking up towards Khillaure, making no motion to brush the leaves out of his clothing and hair, and he says with a grin, "I take it you believe I needed some sort of decoration?"

Tarinalas gazes upwards at the little hummingbird, his somewhat annoyed look fading as he realizes who it is. "Oh, I see... Aye, that particular hummingbird would have quite the flock, though I personally believe she does better as a nightengale by the willows." A soft chuckle and he waves his hand. "'Morning, Rhuarc, Khillaure!"

Grey Squirrel scurries tentatively in from the north. And stops suddenly. It scampers for a few more feet, and suddenly stops again. It leans back on its haunches a moment, and inspects the scene. It's a squirrel. That's what it does.

Rhuarc nods to Tarinalas a moment before looking back towards Khillaure, patiently awaiting her answer.

Grey Squirrel takes sudden action! For no apparent reason, it darts arcross the path, corkscrews its way up the trunk of a tree, and rests a moment, boasting its actions to any other squirrels in earshot with a mild chittering sound.

Khillaure grins as the day seems to be getting better and better, "Aye, Rhuarc, a little decoration will do you well. It has been a long time since I have seen you look so festive! And as for being a bird, I would only succeed in scaring off my suitors with my voice. This spearbearer was not meant to be songbird, I fear."

A squirrel, eh? Definately the less pretty of the two treeclimbers in the beeches today, but you can't beat that bushy tail. And Khil doen't have a bushy tail... does she? Tarinalas peeks for a second. Nope... drat. Well, the squirrel does. The young archer watches the little mammal with a smile on his face, though he is yet paying enough attention to murmer something to the effect of not seeing how Khil's voice could scare off anything.

Grey Squirrel hears a familiar voice! In an acrobatic feat common among squirrels, but nonetheless amazing to see, leaps from tree to tree until it lands on a branch above Khillaure. It voices a warning of its presance before tentatively moving down the trunk of the tree.

Rhuarc laughs lightly and says, with a merry smile on his face "I usually see no need to decorate myself in such a way, I'm afraid... Though for being festive... It has been awhile since I've attempted to persuade the general populace that it is a holiday, so I suppose it is about time for one, eh?" With that question, he glances from Khillaure to Tarinalas, back to Khillaure, and again to Tarinalas, a bright grin upon his face as he does so.

Khillaure notices the newest arrival and her grin expands to an almost comical size. She throws her leg over the edge of the branch and clings to the trunk of the tree scurrying down about half way, then letting go and dropping lightly to the ground. She wipes her hands on her vest removing the tiny particles of dirt that seem to be embedded in her palms and turns toward the two elves, "A holiday? Why, that is a lovely idea! But what shall it be in honor of, Rhuarc? Certainly not a wedding..... I think that we shall never see you wed that lovely lady I see you with so often." She winks slyly, a grin reaching from ear to ear, and slides closer to the archer, "How about you, Tarinalas? Any ideas for what we should be celebrating?"

Tarinalas' ears perk up at the Tarkano mentions a holiday. When it comes to paying attention to the squirrel or paying attention to a possible party, the party will win out every time. "Oooh, that sounds like a good idea..." He notices the man's gaze, and grins. "...What are you looking at, oh great and powerful leader?"

Tarinalas pauses as Khillaure addresses him, merry shrug of his shoulders and a wink. "Well, I have a possible idea... but we'll have to see."

Khillaure arches her eyebrow slightly at Tarinalas and nudges him in the ribs, "You have an idea? Who would ever have imagined that the archers were capable of free thought?"

Rhuarc looks down at his cloak at Khillaure's comment, and pretends to notice a leaf that is out of place and ajusts it, turning it upright and flattening it against the material of his cloak. "Our engagement has lasted a good six years, it would doubtlessly be breaking a natural law of some sort if we both got unbusy enough to get enough time for what I have planned out in my mind." He says this mostly to himself as Tarinalas and Khillaure share their brief exchange, and he looks up at Khillaure in time to catch her last comment, he grins, and looks towards Tarinalas, "They aren't. They depend on those raised up through the Echmaethor always. But occasionally they overhear something worth repeating." he looks back at Khillaure and winks, before turning back to Tarin to hear his idea.

Tarinalas opens his mouth and closes it silently... once... twice... three times. "That... that was /not/ fair." He sticks his tongue out at Khil and Rhuarc for a second. "I think all the time, it's not my fault if most of those thoughts go over the heads of such simple minds as Echmaethor have."

Grey Squirrel watches the Food Giving Elf work away from its clutches, and pauses for a long moment in thought. Squirrels don't tend to think very quickly, and the decision between persuit, and bringing its mildly tame form in close proximity to two unknown elves, or to go off and seek out food or some cute other squirrel of the opposite sex...

Khillaure laughs at Rhuarc's comment, and then again at Tarinalas's poor excuse for a comeback, "Over our heads? I think it's more likely beneath our inteligence to respond to such ramblings. But I will admit that sometimes, when your timing isn't off, you are capable of holding even my attention for more than a few moments."

Rhuarc laughs, and raises his brows, "Tarinalas! I may have to demote you, or send you off to shovel the stables for that! I believe it is against the guards by-laws to insult the Echmaethor, the place where I, the epitome of all guards came from." at the last phrase, he stiffens and spreads his arms wide, becoming quite the charchiture of nobility, "And if it wasn't a law, it is now. I'm sorry, mellon, but your official guard duties now entail polishing every shiny object within yonder cave," at that he points to Thranduil's hall, and shrugs, "It is the law."

Rhuarc sighs and glances at Khillaure, "You could be taken by that statement to be admitting to a short attention span, mellon." He glances at Tarinalas, grinning, "We can tell who is in the lower echelons of the guards simply by how well they can pick on the other guards, it seems..."

Khillaure notices the little squirrel and wonders if it is... no, it can't be. And yet the look it gives her makes her wonder..... She crouches down and moves slowly toward it with her hand outstretched, an small bit of the dried fruit she always seems to have in abundance laying in her hand.

Grey Squirrel continues in its long pause, its incredibly fuzzy tail twitching with excitement. It recklessly tears down the trunk of the tree, and leaps towards Food Giving Elf with incredible speed. It is indeed the same squirrel, and it knows it has the chance to be fed some most tasty dried fruit the way it stares at Khillaure so intently.

"Just for a few moments, Khillaure?" Tarinalas tilts his head to the side for a moment, giving her an expressive look. "Just because you can only concentrate on the archery lessons you asked me to give you for a short time before focusing on... other concerns... is not my fault... is it?" He looks innocent, as he turns to Rhuarc. "Last time I was in there, just about every shiny object was already polished, so my services are not needed therein."

Rhuarc shakes his head, rolling his eyes and nodding his head towards Khillaure, "That's why I shall have her and a team of Gwain working on tarnishing the objects at the same rate you shine them."

Rhuarc grins, and shrugs, "Thranduil may object, but I'm positive I have an old favor he needs to repay me for.."

Khillaure sighs as she is barraged by insults from all sides, the only one that seems to enjoy her presence here being the squirrel, and that is only because she offers tasty treats, "I would be careful of how you speak to me, Tarinalas. I will excuse Rhuarc, he is just miffed that I would bring up such a sore subject as his beloved. But you? I'll simply avoid you at all costs if that is how you are going to treat me." She tries hard to hide the smile on her face.....

"Sore subject?" Rhuarc asks, raising a brow, smiling slightly, and trying his best not to sound too concerned, "Why should it she be a sore subject? Nothing untoward has happened to her, right?"

Well Khillaure, perhaps if you offered Tarinalas tasty treats as well, he'd shut up for a bit too. But as it is, he looks truly surprised for a second before he sees the faint hint of a smile on Khil's face. "Well, I would simply die if you avoided me for even a day, much less at all costs. Can't have that, you know."

Khillaure continues to creep forward with the proferred treat in her hand,looking as intently at the squirrel as he does her as the chittering of another squirrel can be heard nearby. Food or sex? Ahhh, it is a tough choice for any male to make.......

Grey Squirrel glances about as this other squirrel speaks up, and makes itself seen. Our fuzzy rodent is faced with another dilema, one which is solved by the coincidental revalation which comes from the Male Elf Not Covered With Leaves. It chooses that which it would simply die without se--- err, food. Of course, it could just have chosen the path of least resistance of the short wait for the Food Giving Elf to provide for it.

Khillaure shakes her head slowly, "No, nothing has happened to Eilialhennel that I know of, except perhaps that she seems to mope a little when you are not around," (although why, she cannot guess). And with that she tosses the bit of fruit to the squirrel and stands, turning on her heel to face Tarinalas, "I doubt if you would die, dearest, but it would do my heart good to see you suffer a little."

Relieved of all worries of Eilialhenel for a mement, Rhuarc turns to Tarinalas with a grin, nodding, "Of course you wouldn't die! You'd always have me!" he pops his brows up thrice in rapid succession and winks.

Khillaure walks over to place a light kiss on the cheek of the archer and shoots a look at Rhuarc, "I'm afraid that Tarinalas is spoken for, Targaunen, but I can understand the desire you must feel when you look at him. I guess that I will have to keep my eye on you two from now on. I never know when the temptation might strike you....."

Tarinalas can't help but make a face at Rhuarc's comment. "That is so comforting, Rhuarc. I think I would prefer Khillaure, I'm afraid." At this, he turns to the woman in question. "And you, don't you think I suffered enough last time you chased me around the hall with that spear of yours, and me with only a little sword?"

Rhuarc laughs at Khillaure, and shakes his head, "As long as you aren't keeping your eye on me for other reasons. Eilialhenel may appear to be a sweet and gentle maiden, but she may revert to becomming the harsh and bitter person I taunted ceaselessly not too long ago, should she interperet you wrongly."

Khillaure grins, "Does it make you uncomfortable to know that my weapon is bigger than yours? I would have thought that the "Mighty Tarinalas" would be above such petty feelings. But, alas, " she brings her hand to her forhead in a true drama queen pose, "I guess that you are just like any other man, always thinking with his little sword."

Grey Squirrel, while the elves speak in that incomprehensable sing-song language of theirs, munches away at its bit of fruit before dashing off towards the source of playfull chittering and delicious pheremones...

Tarinalas sighs softly and rolls his eyes heavenwards. "The 'Mighty Tarinalas'? How did I ever get that reputation anyways??" He shakes his head for a second, before adding "And you're wrong, by the way. I have my flute and my bow to think with as well as my sword."

Khillaure jumps as if shot by an arrow.... Cupid? No, more like an inexperienced guard (she looks for Celestine). Mumbling to herself, she looks around for her cloak and sees it piled at the bottom of the beech that served as her perch. Tossing it over her shoulders, she clasps it quickly and starts to run toward the path that leads to the willow, then stops and runs back to say her goodbyes. She stops just in front of Tarinalas and reaches out for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, "I forgot that I was to meet someone at the lake, and if I wait any longer I will never make it there in time. I hope that I will see you later....maybe I will stop at the willow on my way back." She smiles and places yet another kiss on his cheek, then blushes as she realizes that they are not alone, "And I hope that it will not be nearly as long before I see you again, Rhuarc. It does brighten my day a little when you are around." A joke? But, of course! And off she runs at a frantic pace, her cloak flying out behind her.