Festival of Hope - The Bards' Festival

Pull out your pack and head on down to the Prancing Pony for some great Role Playing (try to stay in character)!

Festival of Hope - The Bards' Festival

Postby Aerin » Mon Jan 09, 2006 7:40 pm

Aerin slowly rode into the clearing, then stopped and simply looked around. Although the area was still open, weeds and brambles had grown up everywhere and the outside of the hall looked dirty and rundown. She shook her head – in dismay or sorrow, or a bit of both, she wasn’t sure – and dismounted to lead her mare Diadem into the stables. Once inside, she carefully untied a large wrapped shape from the saddle and carefully set it on a shelf before tending to her horse. When Diadem was comfortably munching on oats and hay, Aerin picked up the package from the shelf and entered the hall of Calenrond.

The elf stopped short as she closed the door behind her, closing her eyes as waves of memories swept over her. Some sad, mostly good – the many weddings, festivals and other events held at the ancient Bardic hall – as well as fear and anger and her own increasing longing for peace and rest. A muffled, muted sound from the bundle she was carrying brought her back to the present.

Aerin lovingly unwrapped the bundle to reveal a subdued Agarak. The dragonharp’s eyes, normally a bright ruby, were dull and subdued, though a hint of their old spark came back as she softly stroked his golden sides. A sharper note sounded and she quickly set him in his old place, smiling lopsidedly.


"All right, Agarak, I won’t touch you any more." She looked around at the musty walls and sighed. "You know what to do. I’ll be back down here in a while."

She went upstairs, carefully testing the steps to make sure they were still sound, and closed her eyes. Still walking, sure of her way, she began with the bedroom closest to the stairs. The elf pulled energy from inside herself, and from the dragonharp downstairs, and flooded it into the building. It took a long time, and Aerin was exhausted by the time they finished, but eventually Calenrond was restored to its former glory. All the woodwork glowed, the windows sparkled from the sunlight outside, the rooms were clean and made up, and the bar and kitchen were fully stocked once more with fresh ingredients. The only difference was the thin black curtains and drapings, shot through with gold and silver, that graced the hall and would remind everyone of what they had lost.

Aerin came downstairs again, dressed in a dark blue velour dress embroidered with white snowdrops. She straightened the portraits that hung over the fireplace – one of Erinhue and one of a female stranger with love in her eyes – blew an airy kiss to Agarak, who acknowledged it with a ripple of his strings, and went into the kitchen to begin making the food for the festival.
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Postby Hidden_Ring » Tue Jan 10, 2006 10:08 am

Another figure followed Aerin up the long forgotten track, into the clearing and sighed heavily at the sight that presented itself. It hadn't seemed that long ago that the grand hall had been cleaned and restored and yet once again, it was fallen to the beginings of decay. The figure pulled back his hood and the icy blue eyes gazed in sorrow at the weeds grown up and slowly shook his head. How could this have happened?

Climbing down from his immense toffee-tan horse, Orion leads the steed into the ramshackle-looking stable. Seeing the walls still sound, the white-blond Elf left his horse with a bag of oats and a little sugar, and gave the same for Diadem before stepping back outside. The faint sounds of the little dargonharp sounded from the inside.
At least she had kept the little worm safe. Maybe there will be more who answer his call...

Orion reached behind his back and loosened the twin short swords before drawing them out and starting a slow, almost meditative dance, smooth and flowing but keeping always in motion. With each flick of his wrists, the glittering blades danced and mowed the brambles lower. All about the clearing, the Elf moved, cutting the invading plants lower and lower until his blades flicked at the winter soil. Idly, Orion wondered if a couple of hobbits could be hired to help maintain the grounds.

Replacing his swords in their sheathes, he starts to gather the debris of the weeds. Retracing the path taken in the trimming, the piece vanish into a pile a short distance from the Guildhall. It doesn't seem to take much time to clear the brownish-green grass of what had been obscuring it. As he walks towards the doors, Orion notices a tiredness that isn't strictly related to the grounds work. Stepping through the main doors, the reaons for the unusual sensation become clear. Agarak and Aerin had been busy inside, very busy if they shared Orion's feeling of exhaustion.

Climbing the stairs to an empty bedroom, Orion changes from his usual traveling clothes to a white linen shirt and a black leather sleeveless coat along with the Imladris tartan kilt. Returning to the main floor, he enters the kitchen and starts to assist Aerin in preparing the food.
This is one task we ought to share.
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Postby Gloamglozer » Tue Jan 10, 2006 11:26 am

Along the recently cleared path strode a blackwood ent. This large being stopped infront of the hall and sighed. The ent began to shrink and, in seconds, there stood a tall man dressed in a blood red cloak. It was Gloamglozer. He was relatively new to the guild and this was the first time he had set eyes upon the great hall.
His handsome face with its's deep, black eyes looked towards the stables where two horses were resting. So he was not the first one here. He was glad about that. He rested his right hand on the hilt of his sword and walked over to the main door, his long cloak swirling around his boots.
As he opened the front door he looked around in awe and felt the power in the very brickwork. He noticed a dragon harp resting in a corner, so this must be the famous Agarak.
The next thing he noticed was a beautiful smell coming from what must be the kitchens. The shapeshifter opened the door to the kitchens and saw Orion and an elegantly dressed woman who must be Aerin.

"Hello. I am Gloamglozer. I have come to officially become an apprentice Bard and also to join in the celebrations of the festival" he smiled and, because he wanted to help, offered to help with the food.
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Postby Dubatuluk » Tue Jan 10, 2006 1:21 pm

Dubatuluk sat astride her horse at the end of the path, gazing up at the ancient hall before her. She being relatively new to the Bards had never seen the hall, but had heard of its splendour at the Pot many times while the others reminisced about it at length.

Her head snapped back towards the hall as it began to return to its famed splendour, the sound of Agarak's mournful singing coming from within. It had been a while since she had heard him, at least, not since that morning he had awoken her in Rohan while moving all the WCA equipment. She smiled fondly of the memory, then spurred her horse towards the stables.
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Postby Sirion » Tue Jan 10, 2006 3:21 pm

Sirion hummed atop Tristaniel's back as the pale white horse walked silently over the broken wooden paths. When at last he came upon the, apparently, recently cut glade, his eyes widened and his humming stopped short.

Sirion had heard tale of the hall of Calenrod in several places, and all of them seemed short when it came to this. A feeling...that he couldn't describe flooded Sirion's body, and he felt so like singing for all he was worth at that moment. But Sirion steeled himself, knowing that this was only his first time at Calenrod, and that he was here to become fully fledged as one of the Bard Guild members.

Speaking softly to Tristaniel, Sirion moved forwards and dismounted silently, knowing the free spirited horse would be about and come to his call when needed. Walking slowly through the door, the warm feeling only increased, and Sirion could smell pleasant scents roll up to his knows, tickling his senses.

Looking around, Sirion followed the smell of his nose, which led him instantly to the kitchen.

Seeing there were already people there, Sirion bowed deeply and said
, "Greetings. I am Sirion, untested member of the Bard's Guild, here to earn my place. Is there anything I can do to aid? I am afraid my cooking skills are quite inefficient."
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Postby PatriotBlade » Tue Jan 10, 2006 8:44 pm

Heather rode her milk white mare down an overgrown but familiar path, Beryl wrapped warmly under her cloak. It had been some time since she had been here. She looked down at her sleeping daughter. Sixteen months, for that was how old the little one was. She had been born here, just a little more than a year ago. She dismounted before the restored halls, letting her elven mare wonder around until she would be needed for the trip home. Beryl was awake now, and ready for fun and adventure. After greeting her old friends, the bard let her adopted daughter run loose as she hung up their cloaks, then turned and drank in the sights and smells of the old halls. This was a place of memories.
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Postby Robin_Greenleaf » Tue Jan 10, 2006 9:09 pm

Sorry forgot to signout
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Postby Borin_Silversmith » Tue Jan 10, 2006 9:19 pm

Traveling cross country the young Dwarf could feel a strange yearning within... "What is this strange calling" he said out loud to his pony. Borin had taken to talking to Hobbie while he was traveling... Borin laughed as he remembered why he had named the pony Hobbit... it was small, had hairy feet and loved to eat... Borin swore if he didn't keep track of what it ate it would be as round as it was tall... Hobbie always seemed to be listening when Borin spoke... " I don't know why but I feel we need to head north... so let's just follow my feelings, alright"



Over hill and valley splendor
through the forest green and tender
we shall wander to and fro
we shall travel do- se- do

In the mountains, in the mines
through the brambles and the vines
we shall wander to and fro
we shall travel do- se- do

By the oceans, and open spaces
near the sandy desert places
we shall wander to and fro
we shall travel do- se- do

At dawn's breaking Borin rode until later in the day he came into an open space.... and there in front of Borin was the most magnificant building he had ever seen... riding Hobbie around to the stable... after unsaddling and putting Hobbie in a stall, feeding and watering him, and rubbing him down Borin went round to the door. After brushing the dust off his boots and cloak Borin went to knock on the door but much to his surprise the door swung open.... Inside Borin could hear the song of the Dragonharp with it's mournful song.. this is what he had been following.. Borin knew he was where he was supposed to be...

"Hello, is anyone here" Borin said. When he received no answer he walked through the most magnificant room he had seen. Suddenly he smelled something cooking so he followed his nose... soon coming to the kitchen where everyone seemed to be gathering.. "Hello, my name is Borin Silversmith, I believe that I have been called here by that enchanted harp in the other room..."
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Postby Lithtaur16 » Wed Jan 11, 2006 9:46 pm

Lith led the old buckskin along gently. They were close to the hall and there wasn't any need to rush her friend. It was asking much of him just coming this far even. The shaking fever had left him weak. She wanted him off the hard ground and in some soft hay soon though and her post was no place for a recovery. A nervous brown-and-white paint followed, tethered to the same halter, and carried what Lith didn't carry herself.

Anaiu had trotted ahead around the last curve, recognizing some trails and examining new ones expertly. She returned quickly, with no regard for the paint's feelings about her sudden appearance, and took to her mistress' side. Cookie stopped short, snorting at the hound, then tried to prance in any possible way to get away from the wolfish dog. The rope grew taut and pulled uncomfortably on the stallion's halter but he stood it with a wicker and a stamp. Lith had to speak some minutes to the mare before her ears came forward again and she was settled enough to lax the rope and continue. The stallion's general tolerance of Anaiu's prescence was also an excellent contribution to her confidence.

Finally the Hall was before them. Lith rubbed the space behind Spirit's left ear with no small relief as they approached its stables.

"We aren't leaving here for a good while you two," Lith purred in Rhorric while leading the horses in. She tethered Spirit to a post while the ranger untethered Cookie and put her in a stall. She was quick to return to the buckskin, however, combing, rubbing and settling him in first. She set a thick grain mash for both on the stove, in the small tack room next door, to warm it before moving on to better care for the paint.

While the horses ate and drank, Lith considered whether to enter the hall yet. Agarak's call had been a strong one. Still, she decided that Spirit needed watching for at least the next few more hours. The ranger washed her tanned face and hands at the pump before setting a small stool at the stall's corner. The stallion stuck his head out briefly to snuffle her hair when she sat down. Then he knelt comfortably in his hay for a rest.


The grey-white wolfhound had lain down next to the doorway on the outside. She watched the hall, her sharp nose and ears telling her things that Lith would see with her eyes later. People who were there already, what was cooking.
There were no threats here, there never were and she rose to turn her attention to investigating the stable more thoroughly. Lith had begun cleaning her and tack staddle.
The five or six other horses which were already in the stable received a full sniff each but did little to interest the hound besides snort and stamp at her as something odd and new. Anaiu eventually flopped herself down besides the ranger and yawned, laying her head on the woman's foot for scratching.
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Postby Gloamglozer » Thu Jan 12, 2006 2:54 pm

Gloam was chopping some vegetables in the kitchen of the great home of the Bards when he suddenly stopped and chuckled. The others looked at him and their eyes were asking the same question. Why did you just chuckle? Gloam knew this so explained himself.
“I was just thinking,” he said, now carrying on with the chopping, “about the situation we are currently in and how this festival is supposed to be about hope. Then I remembered a poem I was once told. May I tell it.”
Aerin, Orion and Sirion nodded and Gloam tipped the vegetables into a pan and began.“It is called Some people.

Some people come into our lives
and leave footprints on our hearts
and we are never ever the same.

Some people come into our lives
and quickly go…Some stay for awhile
and embrace our silent dreams.

They help us become aware
of the delicate winds of hope…
and we discover within every human spirit
there are wings yearning to fly.

They help our hearts to see that
the only stairway to the stars
is woven with dreams…
and we find ourselves
unafraid to reach high.

They celebrate the true essence
of who we are…
and have faith in all
that we may become

Some people awaken us
to new and deeper realisations…
for we gain insight
from the passing whisper of their wisdom.

Throughout our lives we are sent
precious souls…


I don’t know if you have heard it before. But I love it and just thought it was appropriate,” he finished. He now moved onto grounding down some herbs in a pestle and mortar. “It is unfortunate. But I could never find out who wrote it.” he sighed then smiled, “Well lets get this food finished.”
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Postby MouseofMordor » Fri Jan 13, 2006 3:34 pm

There was a man sleeping in a forest, his name was long forgotten, his appearance would not be forgotten so easily. He was human, a small man, much smaller than the regular human male. He was only a bit taller than most grown dwarfs; still he had come of age and was ‘grown up’ more than most men of his age.

He had been on a countless number of journeys, always resulting in the same desire; to go home. This was one of his problems, he had no home. For as long as he could remember he had been nameless and homeless. He was called Mouse by his friends, both by those that called him friend, and by those that he was proud to call friend.

He was asleep against a tree when he had the most wonderful dream. It was about a great hall. Within, a crowd of people sat, feasting on a grand meal and having fun, sharing stories and poems while a bittersweet melody played in the background. Mouse had not heard the sound before, but he knew for certain that it was the sound of the dragon harp Agarak. he had heard it play once before, at the WCA's in Rohan. He also now understood that the hall must be Calenrond, the guildhall of the bard's guild. Mouse still remembered the day when he met one of the bards on a journey and he was persuaded to join the guild. He immediately sent his ABC poem to the appropriate location using his falcon, Merlin.

Merlin was Mouse's most trusted companion on his journeys. He was never far away, although Mouse never told any strangers that he owned a falcon. Foremost of all reasons was that he basically didn't own Merlin. Merlin had followed him out of free will. This was the result of a relationship based on trust. Mouse, being able to communicate with animals in different ways than with humans, had saved the bird's life once. The falcon had paid Mouse back. But afterwards he chose to come along on the journeys anyway.

Mouse was still sound asleep as Merlin was sitting on a tree branch above his head. Merlin made a series of soft sounds which sounded a bit like a song, much like the one Mouse had heard in his dream. Merlin’s song grew louder and Mouse slowly woke from his dream. He couldn’t help but wonder where it had come from, and what it meant. He whistled the song softly and the falcon emerged from the tree and landed on his arm. Mouse whispered something and the falcon flew off. Mouse started packing his stuff. He was getting ready to leave his camp behind.

Hours later the falcon returned. He landed on Mouse’s arm again. He whistled something softly and Mouse nodded. The falcon flew off again, in the direction of the path he had just come back from. The falcon was ever waiting and watching if Mouse could follow. Mouse walked along the road, often having a hard time following the falcon. But, as they were best friends, the falcon flew slow enough to allow Mouse to follow. It took them hours to come to the next clearing. Mouse wanted to sit and rest for a while but Merlin insisted on going on immediately. The falcon flew on as Mouse stopped and stayed at the clearing. Merlin returned a moment later looking very agitated even though he was just a bird.

A short silence followed in which they both had nothing to say. Then they both heard a sweet sound coming from the woods before them. Without hesitation, they both rushed further and found their way to a path, which lead to a great hall. It was the hall of Calenrond. Mouse rejoiced in seeing this magnificent hall and in hearing the sound of Agarak again. He hadn’t heard Agarak play since the WCA’s in Rohan, not counting the dreams. Mouse whistled softly and the falcon landed on his arm again. Mouse fed Merlin something before entering the hall. Agarak was in the corner, playing a song, the same song from his dream. Mouse walked on to the kitchen. There seemed to be a lot of people already. Mouse coughed to get the attention, and then he said, “Hello everybody, you may know me and you may not know me, but some will probably know of me. I am called Mouse. I have joined the bard’s guild a while ago and never attended a festival before. I wasn’t even planning on coming to this one when I heard of it. Still, as strange as it may sound, I was called here by the dragon harp. It called to me in my dreams. I wanted to meet you all sooner; I just got distracted by…stuff. I am here now though.” A short silence followed and then Mouse said, “Will you accept my company, and my help, wherever I can offer it?” After that, Mouse waited for them to respond, he couldn’t help but feel a bit like an intruder.
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Postby RavenTinuviel » Sun Jan 15, 2006 4:26 pm

Walking the forest this day, Raven stopped by a small stream to rest. Hearing the sound of the trickle of water, she started to sing lightly to herself. A melodic voice she had, but few have heard it. But right now, this place, She was led by a deep feeling to sing. It was a song she had made up long ago in happier times, before the destruction of Eregion.

As she finished, a sond faint yet clear as crystal she heard. A note from a harp! Raven listened further, but no other sound was heard. So she bathed and cleaned up, and again she started through the pathless forest.

As if something chose her steps for her, she drifted on. Again a sound of a harp, but this time a culling melodic sound. And then she caught sight of a place. A beautiful place she approached, and coming to the door she hesitated. She brushed back her long dark hair, and brushed the silken wrap she wore. Plain black it was long to her ankles. Her bare feet peeked out from the longer black silken gown underneath the wrap. The gown appeared in moonlight to be laced with silver transparent threads, and this could be seen in passing in its movement.

She stood there in wonder of the great hall of the Bards, and the aroma of fresh foods filled the air. Others were there or arriving. Finally she decided to enter the hall. For the sound of the harp beckoned her. Entering she looked around in amazement! It looked like a ball or a festival was planned, but Raven wondered if a wandering elven woman was welcome, for she had no invite. Maybe she would linger in the shadows for now and watch, and would present herself to the Lord or Lady of the hall when they come by. Meanwhile she sang softly to the tune the harp played, losing herself in its seeming enchantment, not noticing if anybody else noticed her.

But she started to sing louder this prose of old, and the harp kept the soft tune flowing...

The waves of color in your eyes
opens clearly for me as we look to the skies
Vardas realm before us, together
And I will leave your side never

But days came and warcrys heard.
You went away, never did I hear word
That you were slain, but I felt the blow
Only in thought did you let me know

One day I will find the place where you lay
I long for, yet dread, that fateful day
When I come too to Mandos halls
and join you again underneath the falls...


A pause in the voice and the harp slowed on softer. She had touched a memory deeply buried through the long years. A trear had found its way down her cheek, and suddenly she noted that people were in the room. She sniffed and wiped away the wetness from her eyes, wondering why memories of old were drawn out of here here. She looked at the harp and smiled at him. She didn't feel so burduned now. It had been held deep for so long. A new hope filled her and she smiled. She needed a drink... bady.
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Postby Borin_Silversmith » Sun Jan 15, 2006 9:55 pm

With all the willing hands the food was soon prepared .. everyone was introduced though Borin was sure He would not remember half their names until he had a chance to talk to them.. it was a diverse group that was sure... Before going in to eat the new comers were given a tour around by Aerin and Orion who it seems were Bards of the Guild and knew their way around... they were shown to their rooms ... and to where the main room was...

Borin decided that He wanted to clean up after his journey so stayed in his room to do so... He was pleased to find that this was a dwarf sized room and everything was just the right height for him... after his wash up and brush off Borin join the rest of the bard's in the Main room where the food was being brought out...
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Postby MouseofMordor » Thu Jan 19, 2006 6:46 pm

As the food was being brought out, the short bard known as Mouse, felt soemthing bothering him. he seemed to be out of inspiration these days. not a good poem or story had left his pencil as he had tried to write. There he was, at the headquarters of the bard's guild and out of inspiration.

This place should have inspired me a great deal. I don't understand why i would run out of inspiration the day i come to the bard's guild. It doesn't make sense. he thought

When the food was there they all prayed to Illuvatar together. And after that they started to eat. All were talking and sharing stories as in his dream. And in the back ground the same bittersweet melody played. Mouse felt rejoiced to hear it again. Then Mouse smiled and he started to eat, not saying anything as he wasn't much of a small talk person. He listened carefully to the bard's around him to hear if they would have good stories or poems to share.
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Postby Sirion » Thu Jan 19, 2006 7:40 pm

Sirion sat next to the dwarf called Borin, and to he the elf was speaking casually, asking minor questions and throwing in comments as conversation continued.

Sirion had had the pleasure of meeting a dwarf before Borin, but he had been only one, despite the fact that Sirion long missed his friend, the old Odin who had passed in battle. And then, to liven his own mood a little, and to share one of his more casual poems that he'd come up with on his way to the Festival, Sirion said to Borin, "It is, in my own opinion, a tad cliche in wording, but it suits me fine to hear it at times." And then he recited softly to the dwarf:

If you steal for any purpose,
That isn’t good or isn’t right,
If you sink down from the surface,
To a place of wrong and an evil plight:
If you go against the honorable good,
That is shining brightly in the world today,
If you let yourself sink into darkness, when in the brightness you once stood,
To do so is to invoke the wrath, of those who make bad pay.

If you let your greed bind your heart,
In darkness and in doubt,
If it pushes you like a rolling cart,
Past the people who to goodness are devout:
If you place yourself, in your mind at least,
Above those who are above you,
Then you are lying to yourself, you fool, and letting in the beast,
The one seeking to control you through and through.

If you stand firm against that beast of death,
And show it you aren’t weak,
If you push it away, and from the good take breath,
Then you’ll be at your peak:
If you fight against, the wrong in the world,
And counter it with right,
If you let shine the brightness once unfurled,
Then day will outlast night.

If you need a helping hand in this,
Your friends you need only ask,
If you seek to crush the cold and iron fist,
That makes it an impossible task:
If the iron fist won’t go without a fight,
Not even for awhile,
If you can’t find a way break its evil plight,
All you need to do is smile.


"And there you have it, good dwarf Borin." Smiling as he took a small sip from his glass, Sirion's interested face peaked over the rim and, when the glass was once more set down, he asked, "Might I be privileged to hear any of your own works?"
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Postby Sirion » Thu Jan 19, 2006 7:40 pm

PLEASE IGNORE--ACCIDENTAL OVERPOST
Last edited by Sirion on Fri Jan 20, 2006 4:00 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Sirion » Thu Jan 19, 2006 7:40 pm

PLEASE IGNORE--ACCIDENTAL OVERPOST
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Postby Borin_Silversmith » Fri Jan 20, 2006 4:57 am

"Tis a fine poem Sir, I'm afraid I'm just a beginner compared to most here. Poetry twas not looked upon fondly where I grew up. But I have one I oft recite when people ask my story: "

Alone among the multitude
A young man lost in solitude
His heart's desire belittled
his visions - now doubt riddled.

No other in his family
could understand his oddity
How could they know how he hurt
when his dreams they did divert

A poet, bard, a storyteller
not a miner, craftsman, seller
why not let him be himself
why put his life upon the shelf

He could not speak of love long gone
nor battles lost or battles won
He had not experience
nor had ever had a chance

He only knew what he had heard
decided then to see the world
the adventures soon began
travels to a far off land.

"So sir that is my story and I have been blesseds to have made the aquaintance of many fine Bards since my travels began."
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Postby Hidden_Ring » Sat Jan 21, 2006 11:22 pm

Orion smiled a little as he watched everyone come on and, at first, enter the kitchen. Eventually, the food was prepared and he and Aerin started to bring it out to the main hall of Calenrond. The hall was starting to gather Bards, all of whom seemed to recognise the reason they had travelled here upon seeing the little harp, sitting in it's velvet niche. Choosing to take the stage, the white-blond Elf looked over the gathered crowd and idly noticed that the numbers that had traveled thus far were few.

Friends and fellow Bards. I wish to thank you all for travelling here to the home of our Guild. I regret that one of our number has taken his leave to a private family concern. Think of Erinhue as he walks his road.

But even the harshest of tragedies, there is hope to be found if you but look for it. Consider my words.


~~Luthien was an Elven maid and mourned her mortal mate
To poison had Beren fallen, and followed the mortal's fate.
In Mandos Hall, he passed and joined the Dead to pause
And wait for judgement upon the following of Life's laws.

Elf and Man had never mixed, mortal and undying.
The gem of children knelt where her love was lying.
Far and wide, they roamed together, in peace and in strife.
And Luthien chose that though he was dead, Beren needed life.

Beren came and joined the Dead, in Mandos Hall, to pause
And wait for the judgement if he had honored Life's laws.
Across the sea, Luthien sailed, and came to Mandos Hall
And started to sing of her love to the Lord of Life's Fall.

"An orphan he is, his sires slain by folk of Melkor.
In my father's wooded realm, my beauty vexed him sore.
Purdued me and wooed me, and asked my father for my hand
A brideprice was set for a Stolen Gem from the Dark Lord's band.

"Attempt and failure, capture and torture, Beren stayed unbroken
Seeking to reclaim a Silmaril as a wedding token.
The wolfhound and I came to him on Sirion Isle,
Saving him from Sauron and a fate most vile.

"North we came to Melkor's Iron Gate, guarded by Hunger Red.
Cloaked by me and uncaring of danger, we entered the realm of dread.
To the throne room we came and found the jewels in the Iron Crown.
With but a knife, he worked to cut the last pure Light of the Trees down.

"We fled with one, but the Red Maw was awake and bit my love's hand.
Huan fought the wolf as Beren and I fled south to my father's own land.
The Silmaril lost to the ravening wolf's belly,
To see Beren's face made my father laugh and shake like a jelly.

"He granted us leave to wed and our troth was plighted.
The Red Maw was still loose and by his passing, lands were blighted.
My love came to fight the wolf and took his fatal hurt.
He managed to slay the beast and then collapsed upon the dirt.

"I beg thee please, let us have some more time
Release his shade that has commited no crime
Let's have but a little while together in Beleriand yet.
Then in 2 score years, you may take him and my own spirit you will get."

The lord of the Hall thought on this and met Luthien's waiting gaze
"You shall have your lover, and both shall live the requested days.
Love has given you strength and it has served you well.
What shall come of your life, only time may tell."~~
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Postby RavenTinuviel » Sun Jan 22, 2006 4:10 pm

Raven stayed near the wall in the main room for she was no bard and really did not belong here.
But the words of her dear old friend Erinhue, and the song that followed saddened her.
She silently wished her best to him and faded away out the door.
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Postby Gloamglozer » Mon Jan 23, 2006 12:03 pm

Gloam was sat with the rest of the Bards that had turned up for the festival so far. He listened to the poems and clapped and congratulated those who recited them.

He was also silently ecstatic that he had been the first person to recite a poem here in the hall, during this festival. He was thinking this and waiting for the next person to take centre stage and to say one of their poems when he felt a familiar presence.

Outside....

A pure black wolf padded up the steps leading to the door of the hall. She, for she was named Sasha, had deep black eyes containing some red lines that, if you looked close enough, turned out to be ghostly images of dragons and harpies and many other evil flying creatures.

She reached the heavy wooden front door of Calenrond and placed her right paw onto one of the rivets that was driven into the oak.
Her paw glowed red for a second and the light coursed into the door and up into the handle, which turned and opened the door.
She padded past Agarak, who acknowledged her with a soft note, and into the main room where the Bards were congregated.

Gloam smiled when he saw Sasha. She was part of his soul and his familiar. She had been taken away from him five years ago when he had confronted a powerful enemy.
But, not several weeks ago, the Valkyrie Skuld had brought her back from death, in the AHUR.
Sasha had been out hunting but she was back and, also being Gloam's muse, would now help him with a poem or two for the festival.

She growled contentedly when she saw Gloam and lay down with her mouth resting on her two front paws, looking at the other Bards and awaiting to see if they would live up to their reputation.
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Postby Lothloriel » Mon Jan 30, 2006 2:19 pm

She did not know how long she had been sitting in the tree, but several bards had passed beneath her, and now smoke curled from one of the chimneys of Calenrond, and voices and music floated on the breeze.

She watched the door for hours or days, she knew not which, remembering the more joyous days of old, and not a few tears fell, for the Master Bard was not among them, and his anguish was felt even now.

At long last, she slipped down from the mighty oak, pulling leaves from her hair and straightening her cloak. With a sigh, she straightened her shoulders and walked up the path, pushing open the heavy door and entering the hall.

Heads turned as she walked in. Few bards were there, and she recognized only two or three of them.

"Greetings," she said, her voice echoing in the hall. She nodded to Aerin and Orion, bards that she knew, if only slightly. A smile touched her lips as she noticed Agarak, sitting in his familiar niche.

Unclasping her cloak, she draped it over one of the many pegs beside the door, and strode over to stand beside Orion.

"I am Lothloriel Elhyn, Master Bard and bearer of the Air Ring of Elwing's Glory. Here is my song."

"We return to places old and worn
Dusty and crumbling, the air stale with must
Filled with old things, broken and torn
The shine of old replaced with thick dark dust

But willing hearts and helping hands
Fill the halls with merry laughter and song
Cleaning and restoring in many little bands
Encouraging with "It will not be long."

Many a thing that seems beyond repair
Is only waiting for the right time
And a tapestry or hanging here and there
Will banish all the dust and grime

Old things blended with new
Old wounds healed and forgiven
Old friends, faithful and true
Old lives, well and truly liven

Treasure new but treasure old
Old things, tried and true
Older things are lost or sold
But if only they knew

Old wounds and new, aching hearts
Many tears have fallen, burdens carried
Come home, where the healing starts
And, perhaps, griefs are at last buried."
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Postby Gloamglozer » Tue Jan 31, 2006 2:14 pm

Gloamglozer applauded the newcomer and stood up infront of the bards.
"I am new here and not many of you know me. But I would like to add my own little poem to this festival." he looked at Sasha then at the room around him.

In this world there is
war and terror
and grief and despair.

Many evils do we suffer
because of the darkness
of our own hearts.

People come and go
travelling through the
fields of hate

They keep on going
because
through it all there is
Hope.

That key ingredient
to all life and all civilisation.
without it humanity would
not have survived these long years

Hope, afterall, is what keeps light in the world
and holds back the tide of darkness.

He sat down and stroked Sasha's fur, waiting for another bard to speak.
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Postby Mellaurelom » Tue Feb 07, 2006 10:46 am

Mell and Whisper rode the currents of the forest, soaring high above the trees. Her bow was out, ready for action, scouting was never as boring as one thought. If she came prepared, she generally had no problems. But she knew the one day she was lax, there's be trouble. She grimaced, didn't it always end up that way? Her shift was just about over, and she was turning for the last pass before landing, when she felt a twinge. She shook her head, wondering where the odd feeling came from. She signalled Whisper to glide for a bit, then closed her eyes and concentrated. There as a pulling, a call. As the giant owl circled, she managed to finally pinpoint where is was coming from, it was Calenrond. Her eyes flew open, joy shining in them. Perhaps Hue was coming back! She missed her grey eyed master, missed the cameraderie that came with Bardic festivals. With a quick message spell to let the scout master know she was leaving, she turned Whisper and off they flew.
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Postby EntwifeLost » Mon Feb 20, 2006 9:50 pm

Intoxicating, was the scent of Hope in Calenrond. Something she knew well , for she was given title of Bard Exemplar, in this very place. Sith, an Elvish Changeleing and a Maiden of the Trees, was out from the hidings of Fangorn. A chatty snowy mist brought her news of a lite opening of this place, she so loved.

For Prist, it was outside. The love shared, and celebrations had under these trees, in these woods, and along these paths molded the Bards into the greatest of Brotherhoods. ( Ah perhaps the Kitchen and its cook held certain appeal to her woody sister, but for Sith the poetic beauty of Calendrond was in the Great Oak and Mallorn, that flanked its woodlands). She knew the soul of this place, lay in its celebrations. In the hallowed distance came a coaxing melodic tune, and she walked thru a small opening to hear its call.

The pond! It was adjacent to the tree line, and was iced over. A bright moon illuminated its opaque surface, and glimmered and inviting stay. Prist looked back at the lights of the Pot , and saw some doors opening and windows being wiped down. Was there already a musician there? The music was so beautiful. Looking at the Frozen Pond, and back at the Pot's door, she gathered her skirt, pulled down her hat, and ......Well it was a small chance she would take, in the name of Hope! The brave Sith grabbed the limb of an inviting Willow, as it whipped her onto the Ice with a nice speed. The distant violin, or was that a Harp, perhaps a Lute........It's tune hung in the still evening, glazing her rhythmic movement. Perhaps it was only in her imagination, but Prist moved carefully, sliding on her Leather moccassins, and keeping a circular pattern around the frozen pond , enjoying the musical flow. At first she wanted her wings to sprout loudly and she tried to control the urge to spin and leap across the shiny surface. Just when she thought to share the spot with Bardic friends, and call out to the woman who was peering out the window,,,,,She let out a small "awhhhhhh!! " and took a silly fall. Kerplunk! Not graceful in any shape, form or fashion.

"Hopefully noone saw that" she thought to herself.

Grabbing a huge red raspberry now burning on her knee. No matter the pain , her ears still wained for the sound of those strings. Now they were only a distant tweet....

"Still Hope", she thought.

The color of the turquoise ice, kept her enchanted there for a while.. She slid a bit more across the Pond and looked toward the center of the small patch of ice. There in all its vibrant deep color, was one Red Apple. Almost sparkling, it beamed a light of its own. Sith smiled and closed her eyes in a thankful chant to mystical way in which it was delivered. She held back a tear and became overwhelmingly grateful for friends, in all realms of Middle Earth. She picked up the apple and started towards the Front Door of the SCP.

It was a sign of Hope .....Glorious Hope!
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Postby Borin_Silversmith » Wed Mar 22, 2006 7:15 am

Borin sat and listened to the conversations around him. He did not know most of these people and there was such a wide variety of types. As the meal wound down Borin took to the chair by the fireplace and lit his pipe. The dwarf sat there with his eyes closed puffing his pipe and contemplating why he was here. He knew he had been called and he knew it had something to do with all the poets here. Many of them spoke of the guild and the Master Bard who it seems was off to a far distant country. There was supposed to be a festival where those who wanted to belong to this guild of Bards were to be sworn in. Borin thought that belonging to a group of fellow poets felt right somehow.
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Postby luthienelflover » Sun Aug 27, 2006 8:39 am

Luthy tried to keep her face impassive as she glanced over the small crowd gathered for the Festival. So few bards had come -- and she, arriving late and delaying the start of the rank ceremony, could hardly blame any of the ones who hadn't.

"This place needs some life kicked into it," she muttered to herself, but was entirely for a loss as to how to achieve that.

Well, there was one thing she could do. So she took the small stage, her arms filled with a greyish bundle, and cleared her throat to get the attention of the bards.

"My friends," she began, hating the exhaustion, and the lack of even thing they were celebrating -- hope -- in her own voice. "Welcome to this Festival of the Bards. It has gone on overlong, I think, and everyone is tired. It is time for it to come to an end." She unwrapped the bundle

"To the Bard of Renown who have honored us with his presence and his skills, I present this rose. Hidden_Ring, Last Child of Eregion." The rose she had named, fashioned of mithril, wafted from her hands to land in his.

She glanced in Agarak's direction when nothing else happened. She knew there was supposed to be a bard gaining the rank of Renown today. The harp did nothing for a long moment more, and then a scroll, tied with a blue ribbon, appeared atop her bundle.

"Thank you, Agarak," she muttered, untying the ribbon. "And now let us welcome Lothloriel to the ranks of the Bards of Renown! You may choose your title now, or at any point in the future."

Agarak sent the scroll and mithril pin to the bard named. Luthy paused, to let everyone applaud -- this was a big day for Lothloriel, and she deserved it. When the clapping died down, she cleared her throat again.

"And now, we have the new members of the Bards' Guild, to be inducted as Journeymen by virtue their wonderful performances here today. Borin_Silversmith, Gloamglozer, and Sirion! Welcome to the Bards' Guild, and thank you for your work here today!" She selected the three Journeyman pins from the pile, and Agarak sent them to their new owners. Luthy allowed for a little more clapping, and then waved for silence. "We still have some more inductions to do.

"Angelus_Fontaine, Gilaglar, MouseofMordor, Faith_Hawking, Flame-of-Udun, RuneSage, BairdDarkKnight, A_Simple_Poet, WritersWraith, skuld, you also be welcome to the Bards' Guild." The last of the pins floated over to their owners as she named each one. "We are proud and pleased to have you with us, and we hope that you will honor us with many poems in the future."

She kicked the cloth off the stage, to a few laughs. She grinned, and wondered when she had lost her performing anxiety.

"Now, will all the new Bards please come forward and repeat the Bardic pledge! After that is done, this ceremony will be over, and you may all," she grinned around the room, "finally leave."

"As a member of the Grand High Mystic Society for the Preservation of the Bardic Traditions I do affirm that I shall endeavor to present a cheerful and courteous attitude to all I encounter both on and off the TORC boards; to assist all newbies to become acclimated with the conventions of conduct here at TORC; and to assist them to become upstanding members of the TORC community and to support fellow guild members in both posting and creative efforts."

Luthy finished the pledge with a flourish and smiled toward the cluster of new Bards. "Welcome to the Guild, once again. We aren't usually this lack-luster."

OOC: Apologies, apologies, apologies for the lateness of this post. I am truly sorry. I put it off and put it off until I just forgot all about it. Especially to those who were waiting for induction, I am sorry. I'm editing the first post right away as well. If you think you should have moved up in rank here or should have a different rank than the one I have given you, please post in the Guild and let me know. I am going on what the first post says because it has been too long for me to remember all the ranks off the top of my head, and since I was in charge of updating the front page before also, who knows if it's actually correct. :oops:
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Postby Gloamglozer » Mon Aug 28, 2006 8:13 am

Gloam let the silver pin land in his right hand. Smiling he attatched it to his long red cloak.

He nodded a thank you to Agarak and Luthy as he recited the pledge along with his fellow new bards.

Sasha, his black wolf, growled contentedly as he lent down and scratched behind her ears. The cermony, and now the festival, was over. Gloam looked around at the other Bards and smiled again. He was finally part of the Bardic Society. It was one of the happiest moments his many long years had held.

The ancient shapeshifter said a farewell to everyone and walked out into the open of the wild with Sasha at his heels. He was now a Journeyman Bard and he was going to live up to that title and have a wander around the vastness which was Middle-Earth.
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