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re: Transcript: Iavas Celebration 10/3/2013


SUMMARY: Iavas Celebration!  See Event Post for more details:



[Fellowship] Daeridhor: Introduction (From Scholars Enclave/Duillond):

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) Imminent changes which have begun to take shape threaten to alter the course of a great many lives, and all of Middle-earth seems poised on the cusp of a great war. Even now, certain members of the kinship Daro a Maetho have assembled this day to commemorate Iavas…

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) After several hours in this library, recounting various tales and sharing a great many penned words from days lost since past, the light ceases to penetrate the windows from outdoors. The hour is at hand. Silence now settles.

Daeridhor says, 'Honored guests. Thank you for being here. It is a great pleasure and privilege to share your company. We gather this night in tribute to the manner of honoring seasons as kept by our brethren in Imladris. Though we each be of varying customs and places, the Valley represents a safe place we have come to know collectively as the manifestation of our shared purposes.'

Daeridhor says, 'The season coming to close is is Iavas…'

Daeridhor says, ') Let us begin.'

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) In keeping with a solemn introspective spirit, and in unison, the participants exit the Scholars Enclave and assemble again in the nearby cooking area.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) With an unassailable and reflective spirit, the party enters the cooking area to conclude food-related measures. All the prepared ingredients, appropriate utensils, and necessary wares have been laid out before you. It is a fine display of service and attention to detail, and the evidence of more menial preparatory aspects accomplished many hands now unseen.

Losluin looks around curiously, noting this.

Lossenelenwen glances to Lomewen after seeing the setup.

Lomewen smiles at the tables, moving to the ovens to prepare a pork stock.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) [To: NAME ] You notice a nearby townsperson in attendance and standing over one of the tables. He remains silent though watchful of the party’s dealings. Your eyes and his meet. Do you…

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) a) …engage him and offer thanks for his part in allowing your participation in the event’s unfolding?

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) b) …remain silent while taking up your own part in the evening’s tasks?

Lomewen smiles at the townsperson. "Would you like to join us in the season? There will be plenty to share."

Daeridhor does his part in making preparations.

Lomewen says, 'It was very gracious of you to allow us the use of these facilities.'

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) a)(GM-OOC) The elf diverts his eyes and looks downward. His poise remains steadfast and it suggests that you are not being dismissed, but neither does it necessarily denote acknowledgment. He hands you the necessary implements for carrying out

Losluin nods to the watching elf, a bit warily but continues to aid as he may, fetching whatever is needed for the tasks of the others.

Lossenelenwen has not noticed him, preoccupied.

Daeridhor smiles at Lomewen, as if offering warmth where none was to be given.

Lomewen smiles back, tilting her head at the stranger.

Lomewen says, 'Pork, wildly caught is timely for the season. Their herds need be culled or they risk starvation and disease in the coming winter.'


Lomewen proceeds to make more pork stock.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) Lembas - also called Waybread in the Common Speech, is a special food made by Elves. The cakes are very nutritious, staying fresh for months when wrapped in leaves, and are used for sustenance on long journeys. Lembas is a brownish color on the outside and a cream color on the inside. It is often wrapped inside a green leaf to remain fresh.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: The secret of Lembas is closely guarded, and only on rare occasions is it given to non-Elves. Like other products of the Elves, it is offensive to evil creatures.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) [To: Lomewen] It is chiefly your duty to wrap the Waybread. As you delve deeper into your task, however, you notice that some of the leaves look almost wilted. Do you..

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: a)Feel that your efforts are slightly maligned by this oversight or falter in judgment and search to get to the bottom of the matter? If so how do you do this, and to whom do you turn?

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: b)Continue with what you are doing for fear of disturbing the others?

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: c)Stop what you are doing in the hope that someone will notice your hesitation and offer to assist you?

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: OR d)Become angry, turn and scold the nearby Townsperson, suspecting that it was his duty to officiate such matters?

Lomewen looks at the lembas-leaves curiously. "Does Shadow spread this close to the havens that leaves wilt unexpectedly?"

Losluin brings Lomewen ingredients as she needs them, seeming fairly comfortable with assisting the cook.

Lossenelenwen stares. "Are they dead?"

Daeridhor overhears the comment. Approaches and expresses dismay.

Daeridhor says, 'What's this?'

Lossenelenwen picks up a leaf and presses it gently to her cheek.

Daeridhor says, 'Perhaps we should alert the nearby Townsperson. It was his duty to officiate such matters.'

Lomewen holds up a wilted leaf sadly. "There is early wilt on some of the leaves...I do not know why...does anyone else bear knowledge?"

Losluin turns a bit pale, flexing a gloved hand and setting down what he carries in the other quickly.

Daeridhor says, 'This wilt not do.'

Lossenelenwen stares at Losluin.

Lossenelenwen takes the leaf from her cheek and sets it down, away from the others.

Daeridhor says, 'Come. Let us tell that elf. He must remedy this injustice.'

Lossenelenwen says, 'How could he? Leaves are leaves. If they have no life...'

Lossenelenwen says, 'Does Firith not approach?'

Daeridhor says, 'Very well then.'

Losluin glances at the other ingredients he handled, noting their condition and relaxes slightly, listening to the others.

Lomewen says, 'It is not his fault. We are fading, none can doubt that. Even our leaves remain not ever-spring.'

Lossenelenwen in a sudden surge of amusement swoops the leaf off the table again and brushes it over Daeridhor's cheek. She resists the urge to giggle, but amusement is all over her face.

Daeridhor smiles at this playful act. His eyes meeting with the seriousness of the attendant, however, soon regains his composure.

Daeridhor beckons to no-one in particular.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) By now the party assist one another in both repairing and fashioning anew many metal items as part of the final preparations toward the formal dinner which is to later take place in keeping with tradition…

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) Special goblets for toasting at exacting moments, ladles for serving, jeweled rings for holding particular wiping cloths, and many other things related to the elvish manner of honoring attention to otherwise overlooked minor detail.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) [To: LOSSENELENWEN, fashioner of metal ] In unison and without the need for vocalizing such action, or inaction in this case, the group settles down in its toil to enjoy a much earned relax…

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: Having been immersed in your work, however, you only come to realize the group’s shift when, after striking a last fluent motion, metal upon metal your hammer and the anvil meet with a particularly ambitious spark. You suddenly feel slightly out of sync with the others…

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) a) Do you now share with the group how your mind trailed off with thoughts of the Dwarves being created by Aule’s hammer?

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) b) Do you choose to boast of your handiwork and the sweat of your labor, offering some detail of that which you have fashioned and how it relates to the occasion?

Lossenelenwen watches the sparks. She says softly, "We have known the singing of trees, the forge-fires to build a chain to bind He Who Fell in the beginning... but how did the making of gems become lost to us?"

Lossenelenwen says, 'and Elbereth lit the stars of Silpion's dew, but were they simply dewdrops or were they too a forging?'

Daeridhor looks up somewhat startled by the seriousness in Lossenelenwen's words.

Lossenelenwen 's pale cheeks pinken slightly after voicing her thoughts aloud.

Losluin blinks suddenly, the mention of gems seeming to rouse his thoughts and he turns to look at Lossen.

Daeridhor says, 'Worry not. The fashioning of wares and weapons is not wholly lost to us.'

Losluin says, 'Lost the making of gems... Is it truly so? Or merely sleeping in memory...'

Lomewen rouses herself from daydreaming, warmed from the heat of the hearth and the forge.

Lossenelenwen says, 'We do not know the making of gems, but why....'

Lossenelenwen turns quickly back to the cooling metal in her hands.

Losluin has a strangely startled expression on his face, he looks at the stones beneath his feet, trying to recall something.

Lossenelenwen is preoccupied again, to no one's surprise.

Daeridhor approaches Lossenelenwen. "Where off did your thoughts take you?"

Daeridhor attends lightly to his duties, still enjoying the slowed tempo of the activities.

Lossenelenwen looks up again. "Wind and whim, my thoughts take me where they will, or When. Long ago, to times I have never known."

Daeridhor raises an eyebrow, but does not persist in the matter.

Losluin ponders this silently.

Lomewen nods sagely, familiar with the feeling. "The forge-fire can take one's mind away..."

Lomewen considers. "Or any fire for that matter..."

Daeridhor says, 'Greetings friend. Won't you join us?'

Altian says, 'I shall

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) [Losluin] By your direction the group is busy mending banners, table runners, festival garb, and other items of exquisite taste deemed necessary for the celebration which is to later take place. The nearby leaves of the trees begin to speak to you and you consider how they dependably evidence time’s passage, year in and year out.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: You determine to alter the banners slightly to more readily reflect the occasion and season at hand. Do you…

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: a)GM-OOC: Start fresh by first cleaning these banners and ceremoniously stripping them of their previous use? Please share your comments and/or concerns regarding this decision with the group.

Losluin feels strange as he works, memories of the tailoring at odds with others.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: b)GM-OOC: For good or bad, decide to allow for the minor evidence of these banners’ previous use, because to do so is to symbolically embrace the entirety of history even and thus deal with what is rather than with hope alone? In drawing this conclusion, you decide to add touches of gold to symbolize sun and the age in which man was born. Please share your comments and/or concerns

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: c)GM-OOC: Allow for the minor evidence of these banners’ previous use while still adding brown, considering it symbolic of a necessary deep-rootedness to the past? Please share your comments and/or concerns regarding this decision with the group.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: d)GM-OOC: Think to add touches of violet to the banners because it would uniquely compliment their existing colors, while also speaking to the specific coloration of nearby leaves you now meditate upon, and in turn the backdrop of the evening sky? Please share your comments and/or concerns regarding this decision with the group.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: e)GM-OOC: Take a sip from your nearby wine, whilst holding on to the moment and considering the trees, their leaves, and the evening sky? In so doing, and in looking at the contents of your glass, you decide to add burgundy to the banners. Please share a brief toast with the group, and any comments or concerns regarding this decision.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: f)GM-OOC: Think back upon the season at hand, returning your mind to the Trollshaws, and to Rivendell, and the variety of plants used there that might best serve your purpose in altering the banners slightly? Please share your comments and/or concerns regarding this decision with the group

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: OR...

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: g)GM-OOC: In momentarily considering the leaves’ beginning to wither and die, think tenderly on the lives of dear friends and loved ones now departed? You decide to add touches of red to the banners in honor of the lives lost and the blood yet to be spilled. You may, or may not, decide to share your thoughts with the group.

Losluin considers the colors of the changing leaves, of withering and dying things.

Daeridhor is quietly tending to his task.

Lossenelenwen folds fabric.

Losluin says, "Red blood that flows to Mandos' Halls, paints the turning leaves.  So those we know, come and go, to be honoured 'neath forest eaves.'

Losluin blinks,  'Yes. More red. Whimsy and whim. Yet, never to forget.' It is unclear whether he speaks to all or himself, as usual.

Daeridhor says, 'Your words are remarkable friend. Indeed this seems the occasion for private thoughts shared aloud.'

Losluin looks startled, then nods solemnly. "Perhaps so."

Daeridhor says, 'Fiends. It seems we have finished with our preparations here. Shall we ride on then to Celondim and conclude our activities?'

Lossenelenwen nods in agreement.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: First... everyone roll.

Lomewen rolled (100): 43

Lossenelenwen rolled (100): 94

Losluin rolled (100): 32

Daeridhor says, 'Let us be on our way then.'

Losluin nods slowly, considering the many things said during the activities so far.

Daeridhor says, 'Here we are then.'

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) The group has reorganized in the foothills surrounding Celondim, where in the westernmost upper reaches is kept fields of established soils for the cultivation of plants and vegetables.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: …………(GM-OOC) [LOSSY] While traveling from Dulliond to the present destination just outside the bounds of Celondim, you stopped off at the river’s edge momentarily, allowing your trusted steed to take in of the clear and cool waters. There, embedded in the mud of that bank you unearthed a small leather pouch. Now, having caught up with your companions and returned their sides..

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: your attention returns to your find. Do you…

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) a) Pull out the pouch and bring it down to your side for your own examination? (GM-OOC) b) Openly reveal the pouch in the company of your companions?

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: OR..

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) c) Choose to consider the leather pouch at another time?

[Fellowship] Lossenelenwen: (closest to b)

Lossenelenwen brings the leather pouch into the light again, rubbing the dirt out of it.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) b) The drawstrings are braided and bound in an exacting manner worthy of admiration. You rub your thumb over the bag and notice an insignia pressed into the leather. Upon further examination, you determine the symbol may be that of farming tools, now barely visible due to the effects of time.

Lossenelenwen whispers... "Who do you belong to, little bag?"

Lossenelenwen lalai. "Or did, I suppose..."

Lomewen looks at Lossenelwen curiously. "Of what do you speak?"

Daeridhor says, 'What's that you've got there?'

Lossenelenwen holds it out. "I know what it is but not what it should be. A little bag..."

Losluin says, 'From whence did it come?'

Lomewen says, 'A hoe and spade? Perhaps the local seed-keeper's bag? From gathering seeds in the wild?'

Lossenelenwen says, 'Riversong ---'

Lossenelenwen pauses.

Lossenelenwen says, 'The river.'

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) Ialadir, the nearby Novice Farmhand who has been commissioned to assist with this aspect of the group’s activities takes notice and appears slightly annoyed. His expression is as one that meets irreverence.

Losluin looks back towards the river at her words, a slight curve to his lips.

Daeridhor whispers, let him wait.

Daeridhor says, 'Is it heavy?'

Lossenelenwen giggles. "Water weight or of itself, I do not know."

Daeridhor greets and speaks with Ialadir while the group talks.

Losluin says, 'Such gifts the river carries. Though rivers can be treacherous things.. it is well the bag is in one piece. -the curve to his lips deepens-'

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) Do you continue and open the bag, or put it aside until later?

Lossenelenwen tosses the bag to Losluin with a teasing musical note from her throat.

Daeridhor continues to speak with Ialadur. By now they are both smiling.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) Does Losluin catch/receive the pouch?

Losluin catches it, raising a brow. "Rivers are not the only things treacherous. Poor little bag. What will be its fate?"

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) Losluin is intrigued by the weight of the bag in his hang.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) The emblem, now worn, causes a moment worth investigation.

Losluin tilts his head, curious as he peers more closely at the insignia.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) It appears that you can not make out what it depicts, being so badly worn.

Losluin says, 'Hmm, coy with its secrets. But perhaps a peek within will tell.  Or another of keener eye.'

Lomewen peers curiously at the bag.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) You draw open the pouch and discover 3 gold coins, 23 silver coins, 33 copper coins, and a small soiled paper folded into 4 squares. The words written on the paper are no longer legible because the ink has run.

Losluin says, 'Nae... [Alas] I am ungentle. And no further clue to whom this bag would like its return to be.'

Losluin glances at the farmhand and Daeridhor speculatively.

Losluin says, 'Only the song of metal on metal is left, coins in its belly.  The parchment within is ruined.  Perhaps this we can seek amongst the farmers here. And at the least, the coin be spread to all if none can claim it.'

Lossenelenwen says, 'Plant it....'

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) As the evening winds down, things seem to be getting more relaxed. At this juncture the emphasis is on the very earth itself. The group holds some discussion about corn, the general name for various cereal crops, barley, rye, wheat and oats. Ialadir, the nearby Novice Farmhand talks at length about how corn was one of the creations of Yavanna, and grew in Aman which had in it the strong life of the Blessed Realms.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) [ LOSSY ] You do your part in helping to harvest the last bit of grain which will later be used to adorn the kinship hall, and also put aside and stored for eating. You partake in the discussion and listen to Ialadir. Do you..

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: a)Add to what Ialadir has stated by adding that the corn which grew in Aman did so swiftly and needed only a little sunlight to ripen, and if it was sown at any season (save in frost), it soon sprouted?

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: b)Mention that none were permitted to handle this grain, save the elven-maidens of Yavanna, the Yavannildi who also knew the art of making lembas.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: c)Choose to maintain a diligent silence while allowing things to unwind?

[Fellowship] Lossenelenwen: A!

Lossenelenwen adds her commentary to the conversation.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: a)The Farmhand seems impressed by your breadth of knowledge and respectfully listens to what you have to say while looking upon the faces of those gathered to take in their reactions.

Daeridhor stops silent for a moment. He looks out into the faces of those gathered. It is not a look of hesitation, but rather reflects one of hallowed silence before speaking.

Losluin listens to the discussions and knowledge put forth with a keen ear, filling in the many gaps in his own lore. He focuses as Daeridhor falls silent.


((Some farming madness occurs; followed by a random spar and much OOC hilarity ^^))

Daeridhor coughs politely at Lossenelenwen. Ahem!

Daeridhor stops silent for a moment. He looks out into the faces of those gathered. It is not a look of hesitation, but rather reflects one of hallowed silence before speaking.

Daeridhor says, 'I have before me a bag of grain seeds. Though esteemed and accepted for its own worth, the contents are but a lesser distant relative of that which was created by the “Giver of Fruits” and “Queen of the Earth.” Yavanna...'

Daeridhor says, 'Of all the Valar, she alone planted and caused to grow the first growing things of the world. Namely trees and plants. She did this with much care and preparation…'

Daeridhor says, 'Want and wish alone are of little use without action. And so we do not take lightly our collective undertaking. To stay behind. To fight for the good of Arda. To make sacrifices even for the benefit of those who can do no more than tend to their own immediate concerns and needs. Ours is a thankless and taxing charge...'

Daeridhor says, 'But let us again renew our charge. Though it be late in season, let us each in turn offer seeds and cast down and bury any lingering doubts or uncertainties we may yet harbor, and with thanksgiving renew the burden which we once claimed.'

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) If you wish to do so, please each make an offering of seeds at this time. In offering your seeds, please also share any sentiments you wish as this will conclude Part 1 of this event.

Daeridhor reaches deep within the bag, seeds spilling about as he does so.

Lossenelenwen takes some seeds but does not cast them yet.

Losluin pauses then, almost shyly, takes some as well.

Lomewen gathers a few seeds in hand.

Daeridhor takes a single grain from his hand as if having found a bad one.

Daeridhor casts the seed at Lossenelenwen and does smile.

Lossenelenwen laughs.

Daeridhor holds up his hand, even now seeds falling out from it.

Daeridhor says, 'To times past, and what is yet to be known.'

Lossenelenwen spins round, casting seeds everywhere. "To fate, where it has and will take us."

Daeridhor says, 'To your company. To success. To failures. To change.'

Daeridhor casts his hand up, the seeds taking flight in a sudden gust of wind.

Losluin carefully kneels down, almost casting the seeds, then pressing them carefully into the earth. "To new beginnings and the decay of the old to become refreshed and grow again..."

Daeridhor softens his eyes to Losluin's gesture, his eyes cast down.

Lomewen carefully places a seed in a furrow, and then takes a seed from the ripe corn, placing it on her tongue. "As the sweetness rests upon my tongue, I remember the bees, for they toil endlessly to feed themselves, and all peoples.  I also thank the tartness of wine, that keeps us warm when the frost bites deeply.'

Daeridhor says, 'Ah yes, the bees. Till next year.'

Lomewen says, '...they hibernate in the warmth of the earth.'

Losluin endeavours to seek out the local farmers, inquiring about the lost bag, the contents given for harvest trade for Celondim in general if no owner can be found.

Lomewen toasts the harvest and the end of the season with a glass of wine from the keg off her horse's supplies.

Lomewen grins, for in so doing, she blessed the seeds with copious amounts of wine.

[Fellowship] Daeridhor: (GM-OOC) This concludes Part 1 of the Iavas Event. Thank you all

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