Morwen, Deawen and Artinwe were sitting around a fire alone, catching up with each others' lives since their paths had diverged. Artinwe and Deawen were overjoyed to her that Morwen was expecting a child. Morwen was equally thrilled that Deawen and Artinwe had been married, but that didn't make it any less weird. They were reminiscing about their many forays into danger, with each other, against each other... but they were cut short by a Phantom sentry bringing with him a beautiful elf-woman.

_________________
Can you even dare to look or bear to think of me: this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly... secretly.... Fear can turn to love- you'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster: this repulsive carcasse who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly... secretly....

(slaps Artinwe for the last comment Lol sorry couldn't resist)

Deawen looked up from the conversation "whats this?" she asked the sentry

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

(No one is supposed to know but you, alright? Also, I finally figured out why I would be at Minas Tirith: I am going to visit an old friend in Ithilien.)

Morwen sat silently and observed the newcomer. She seemed uncomfortable (as Morwen had).

_________________
Reasons I love England #217:
I saw "whilst" on a traffic sign

do you mind if i join?

Name:Darrell
Race:Barding
Gender:Male
Eyes:Clear Blue
Hair:Brown, shoulder length.

Personality:Calm, Quick-thinking, Quiet, Loyal
Weapons:Bow, quiver of dark green fletched arrows and a keen double-edged, one handed sword Chrysamere.
History: Fought in the war of the ring for king Brand.

(Sorry guys for not posting sooner... got a little held up by things)

Eleshna followed the sentry, and when she entered the tent, she gave a low bow, pushing back her hood to reveal an elven face and dark hair pulled back in a long ponytail. "Forgive me for intruding, but I have been seeking Deawen, to ask if I may join in her efforts to battle the orcs. My name is Eleshna." Her green eyes survayed the ones sitting there, but she remained very still as she stood there.

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

(Guys, I'd love to post, but I was not addressed; and it would be rude to interrupt my consort. Deawen says: Since when did you care?)

_________________
Can you even dare to look or bear to think of me: this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly... secretly.... Fear can turn to love- you'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster: this repulsive carcasse who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly... secretly....

yep i would say that what can i say..)

you wish to join us?" well today is a day of new people..." Deawen smiled " well you missed the first day ..what are your skills? "

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

"Correction, my lady Deawen, I did not miss the battle," she spoke with a kind smile, "I was there, watching the battle, to observe what sort of warriors I might be joining, and might I add, you have a very impressive and well mastered army" Eleshna clasped her hands behind her back, taking on a thoughtful look, "as for my skills... nothing much to brag about, though as most forest elves, I am good with the bow, and I can handle a broadblade and I have the ability at times to..." she stopped short on her sentance and stood there, very still, for a moment as though thinking. "I'll just say I can fight as well as I can, but I am not a master at the art, and I thank you for giving me a chance to put what skills I may have to use for a good cause," she finished with a smile.

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

(OOC: just another welcome to any who join!)

Morwen appraised the newcomer once more. There was something about her that she was withholding. She decided not to persue the matter now. "Westu Eleshna hal," she said with a small smile. "Welcome to the ranks."

_________________
Reasons I love England #217:
I saw "whilst" on a traffic sign

Eleshna bowed her head slightly to Morwen, "hannon le, mellon nin"

(OOC: unless you're using a different branch of elvish... lol. I only know a few popular words ^^ haha)

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

"I apologize. I do not speak a word of Elvish, freond."

_________________
Reasons I love England #217:
I saw "whilst" on a traffic sign

(OOC: o.o whoops... is that ... umm ... Rohirric? (spl?) Gah, sorry, I know nothing ^^ )

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

"Oh, I apologize," Eleshna said, looking rather embarrassed and feeling out of place, "I said the words 'thank you, my friend' " She bowed her head again slightly, then glanced around as she stood there.

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

we would love for you to join our ranks...oh where is drad? find Drad and tell him to set you up he'll no what to do unless he's drunk again..."Deawen said smiling.

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

"Hannon le, lady Deawen." She smiled, bowing slightly. Eleshna took her leave of the tent after nodding to the others present, and went in search of Drad.

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

he he he's probley drunk again i love that now i can say my line no i was drunk yesterday.)

_________________
Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home