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Welcome to the Gathering of Laurelin
The Man stands to his feet as you enter. He smiles at you,
his gray eyes expressive. It's an odd shade, you have time
to think but then he bows to you from the waist. 'Greetings
and welcome!' he says warmly as he straightens. 'I am Reynkiin
Daalmarch, and you are welcome within our Kinship Hall to
take your rest, eat and drink with good company, and tell
us your tale of what brought you here! Perhaps, depending
on your purposes for coming, we might have tales to give to
you as well.' He turns to introduce another man who sits at
the bar, with an Elf. They appear to be engrossed in a game
of... chess? When the Man looks up, he is a study of contrasts;
blonde-haired where this Reynkiin's hair is raven black, and
with eyes of blue like clear skies, not the overcast gray
of Reynkiin's. 'This is Hákan of Aðalsteinn, who
fights at my side and carries the banner of our allied Houses.'
The Elf smiles at some hidden jest as the young Herald blushes
at his noble-sounding title. 'Hákan, would you be so
kind as to get our guest a stein and some bread? There is
some freshly baked, if memory serves.' The man called Hákan
smiles warmly at you. 'I would be happy to,' he says and then
says to you, 'Please sit down and tell me what you wish for
drinks, and I will see if I can accommodate you.' (contributed
by Reynkiin) Read more |
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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)
 Kinship Funds - Send to Makalaure now
| Date | Note | Amount | Running Total | | 1/31 | (starting amount) | | 1g 500s | | 2/05 [/td... |
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