How Rayakalm became a Learner of the Glirdain.

Rose Garden
You stand in a small rose garden dazzled in white, red, and yellow. Placed in an intricate pattern about the garden, a walkway made up of small, uplifted ceramic tiles form rings of walking space surrounding a large golden mallorn planted in the center which glints in the light. Here and there, benches, one with a lighted leg, are placed for guests to enjoy the shade and the scenery.
To the east, a large silver gate, reflections blinking in and out, arches over the entrance to the garden. To the north, hidden by a tall hedge, a set of stairs can be seen leading to a talan up above. Shown by the starlight,
twinkling down from the sky, all is quiet in the Garden.
Contents:
Taelyn
Rayakalm

Rayakalm appears from the east as he walks thru the gate of the garden.

Amid the sea of roses are a pair of feet, oddly enough sticking out from beneath one particularly large bush. Whomever this is has stuck herself... It's not exactly in fashion for men to wear gowns... quite nicely into a
corner, but most of her body is hidden and thus all you hear is, "Can't.... .... how could... ... Don't believe.... happening."

The elf notices the feet and raises an eyebrow. He walks cautiously towards the bush. "Hello?" he calls softly.

One foot kicks only and a muffled voice follows, "Hello? Did... speak? ... hear very well... OW..." and the form starts to shuffle awkwardly backward, one hand shoving out from the roses to hold her gown close to her legs... and thus, Taelyn is born of roses, full of thorns and with several bits of petals and... well, a few small clumps of dirt clinging to her tresses. She is... disheveled at best.

Rayakalm has difficulty hiding the smile on his face as he sees her crawl to freedom. "Are you alright?" he asks.

Taelyn industriously brushes herself off with a quick swipe and a sigh. Her eyes find you easily - you're the only two in the garden after all - and the aquamarine of them seems to intensify. Perhaps she's studying you, or maybe it's a trick of the light, but you're not given much time in consideration for while she stands, she speaks. "I, good sir, am quite fine. But someone had the ill-begotten thought that I might like to crawl under a rose bush
just to grab a silly stone." Her voice holds a tone of disdain, but it soon clears and she adds, curiously, "What brings yourself to this place?"

Rayakalm looks a little puzzled but when he is asked a direct questions he answers, "I am looking for the Loremaster Taelyn. Have you seen her, by any chance?"

Taelyn blinks.. and then blinks again. Perhaps she didn't understand the question, "Whyever do you need her?" Again with the curiosity..

Rayakalm explains, "It is time for me to take on a proffesion. I have always wanted to be a bard. And the Loremaster seemed the best person to talk to about it." He pauses for a moment. "So, have you seen her?" he asks again, anxiously.

She seems to consider for a few moments and decides it would behoove her to sit upon a bench. Thus she does... and beckons you to join her. "Ah... hrmm. The Loremaster," she ponders, hand under her chin in thought, "I have seen her here or there... helping out the healer apprentices or some such thing. Why a bard? I should think singing songs all day would get quite..." a pause wherein she chooses her next word carefully, eyes turning back toward you, "Repetitive?"

Rayakalm hesitates before joining the woman on the bench. He seems to be fixed on finding the Loremaster. However, he sits down and answers the question, "Repetitive? I am sure it would be." He smiles now. "But who wouldn't want to sing all day?" After a short pause he looks towards Taelyn and adds, "Perhaps you do not understand that."

Her eyes follow your movements, seem to drink in your words. One corner of her lips twitches at your agreement with her statement but at your last words, she sits back upon the bench, seeming indignant. "Perhaps I understand better than you think, good sir. But pray tell, why would you enjoy it so much..."

Rayakalm's eyes fix on a rose nearby as he tells, "Song is part of my life. My parents taught me most of the songs I know when I was still very young. They used to sing to me stories of our people on the other side of the mountains. Ered Lindon, I mean." His gaze returns to Taelyn. "So, you see, I think the life of a bard does not seem so... repetitive to me. It is rather a logical continuation of my life so far."

At last something dawns in her eyes, though which of your words set that off you cannot say and she does not reveal. Though at last some sort of warmth shows on her face and her smile blossoms genuinely. "It is good to see one with such a surety about them. If you truly wish this life, I'll reveal the Loremaster to you."

The smile returns on Rayakalm's face. "Please, if you know where she is." he replies in a soft and eager voice.

Again she watches you, this time with the amusement of the old and the young in her eyes... the old bringing wisdom, the young enthusiasm and fervor. She begins to say something and stops, choosing different words, as a blush flutters up and across her cheeks, "Oh my, I do believe I have not asked your name... "

Rayakalm looks puzzled again but then smiles, "No you haven't. Did I not give it to you earlier? I'm sorry, I am called Rayakalm. May I know yours?"

Her smile brightens again, if that were possible, and she shakes her head, "Nay, you did not but neither did I give you mine, mellon Rayakalm. Though as Loremaster, I welcome you to the ranks of the Glirdain..." and she winks, posture relaxing very much so.

Everything is silent for a moment. Rayakalm's face then turns a little red as he begins to see what it means she says. He now stutters a "Thank you." and smiles awkwardly, not knowing what else to say.

Taelyn's eyes shine with happiness, and she sits watching you for a few seconds more. And then, voice soft and seeming not so indignant as before, "You are quite welcome. It always pleases me to have elves like yourself as my comrades and students. I'm happy I could be of help... and I am pleased to meet you, Isturen Rayakalm..." She sits back again, her eyes going toward the sky for a moment and she says, "Would you like a first assignment?"

Rayakalm recovers himself and answers in a steady voice, "Of course I would. Do tell." His eyes glow eagerly for learning new things.

Taelyn doesn't really seem as though she's thinking about it, but she does pause anyway. Then, in a much more lively voice, "Do you prefer rhyme or not to rhyme... meter, or no meter?"

Rayakalm frowns a little as his face turns thoughtful. "I have never looked at it like that. I learned to sing as I learned to speak, from my family.  Most of the time I do it without thinking. I enjoy music, but I am ignorant
when it comes to advanced things like this. I was hoping to learn more about it here."

Taelyn nods, silly grin still on her face, "Well then, we'll start you out with a small lesson and work up from there, eh? First things first... write me all the words that you know which rhyme with BE and with ARE. So two lists. Length isn't important. If you can only think up one word, write it so upon your paper. Spend as much time on this as you wish... unfortunately, now I have to run. I promised Celehiri that I'd help her with a poem." She stands, her eyes scanning left to right and adds, looking back to you, "Is that satisfactory?" hints of mirth flashing in her eyes.

Rayakalm's face is beaming, "Aye, it is. Thank you!"

Her smiles brightens at your response, and as she heads away toward the Finrim Talan, she adds, "T'was pleasant meeting you, mellon... do come seek me out when you finish!" and she is gone with a wave and a swish of blue fabric.

Rayakalm stands and waves after Taelyn as she disappears, "I will! Bye!" Then he sits down on the bench again, pondering what has happend to him in the last hour.

Taelyn:
Standing before you, the maiden appears to be bathed in light. Her slender, lithe body is clothed in an stunning deep blue gown, which matches her eyes perfectly, with silver-colored trim along the bottom and neckline. Her dark locks cascade freely down, covering the near-open back of the raiment she wears. On her head, rests a beautiful crown of ivy with aquamarine beryls, like dew drops, clinging to the tendrils and catching the light. 

Around her bare shoulders, she has chosen to place a long strip of silvery-white guazy fabric not unlike that which loosely laces the back of the dress. This covering and the ties from the dress hang playfully at her
ankles and around her bare feet. At times, it almost appears that she is stepping on them, but the beautiful fabric is neither marred nor stained.

Upon her right hand, a shining silver ring catches in the dazzling starlight, gleaming softly. The joy in her eyes shows this to be a prized posession...

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Rayakalm:

You see a tall and slender Elf. Dreamy dark eyes look out of a pale friendly face. Dark also is the hair that flows down his back. He wears a shirt of the purest green silk, soft even to the eyes. Light and shade move over it in an undulating motion; it seems of air, clinging to him like a whisper. The shirt is tucked with a certain flare under an intricately braided belt of leather. Well fitted pants stretch over his legs, sheathing them in a warm almond color.

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