Nerindel looked down one last time at the emerald green dress that her friend Léspheria had insisted she wear to the party. The intricate gold leaf embroidery on the rather tight (well at least in her opinion) low cut bodice shimmered as she walked and she felt more than sure that at some point she would stand on the hem of the flowing skirts and fall flat on her face. She had been all ready to attend the celebration in her usual rust coloured breeches, her subtle calf length hunting boots, forest green tunic, and with her leather armour firmly in place, her weapons belted to her waist and her long golden hair tied back in an untidy but controlled mass at the nape of her neck.
However, the Lady Léspheria was having none of it, she had her attendants ambush her and nearly drown her in a steaming hot basin of water. “You are an elf maiden and should present yourself accordingly!” the elven woman had admonished. “You have spent so much time in the company of the rangers and elven hunters, that you have forgotten what it is to be a lady!” Nerindel laughed remembering her friend’s admonishments. She had off course been completely right, all her adult life had be spent on one adventure or another, causing her company to consisted of mostly men and rarely was she required of her to put on the airs and graces of her kindred.
“And why should I start now!” she laughed to herself. So hitching up the delicate skirts in one hand and carrying a large plate of wild berry muffins in the other, she strode purposely towards the wonderful variety of smell’s and sounds coming from the party field.
Her grey eyes casually scanned the many guest looking for a familiar face in the sea of people. Finding none, she placed her plate of muffins on an already crowded table, then passing the ale tent set up by the green dragon staff she grabbed two foaming tankards and made her way to the spreading Mallorn that sat in the centre of the celebration. Carefully placing one of the ales near the dark entrance to the Barrow, she raised her own in toast,
‘Happy birthday old boy!” she said with a wink, then draining her tankard, she took out her gift and placed it on the table along side the others, the hand carved pipe looking slightly out of place among the shiny treasures the other guests had chosen to bring.
With a shrug, she moved on allowing the other guests who followed behind her to bestow their gifts and best wishes, while she looked to refill her tankard and find a familiar face.
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