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- Total Members Voted: 11
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Welcome to the Gathering of Laurelin
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The light of the setting sun has set the Bree homestead ablaze in rich colors of gold and red. A young hobbit bounds down the pathway toward you and her eyes gleam at your arrival. You note that Sylvya's cheeks are red enough without the additional tint of the sunset.
"Welcome! Have you come to bring us tidings or do you wish to join in on our adventures?" She leans in, practically standing on tip toe as if she can hear better by getting a wee bit closer.
Suddenly, Sylvya shakes her head before you can answer. She rocks back on her heels and says, "Where are my manners? Come, come, have a drink or bite to eat. Our halls are open to those in service of the Free People. I suspect you are good folk."contributed by Sylvya Read more
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Laurelin's Hall
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Stars glimmer, chasing the setting sun as she settles onto indigo cloud banks. Lengthening shadows cross the roadway as it meanders along the old stream. The hamlet is quiet, chimney smoke occasionally showing signs of life. The place you have been told of is ahead. Set back by itself at the far end of the valley. A pathway turns from the road and climbs up a grass clad hill, curtained by cliffs and dressed on the right by a brilliant waterfall.
The slow wearing of the years has left a broad expanse here with good visibility of the valley. Ruins of the old kingdom testify to the strength of the vantage point. Now, old stone foundations have been reclaimed. A large hall has grown from them, a young tree drawing on the roots of an ancient world. Trees of many varieties make quiet shadows where lush grass grows. Crafted likenesses of old heroes stand thoughtfully, dwelling on the whisper of breezes rustling among the leaves. The path leads up to the front steps.
The oaken door, bounded in iron protects. Well cut stone dressed in timber upholds. Windows of ox horn give light into the night. The building rises up before you, several stories of light shining into the evening, overtopped by a tower. The red tile roof is scarlet in the setting sun, as if on fire. From within come the sounds of conversation and laughter. Warmth the radiates into a night that grows chill. (Contributed by Raenulf)
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