In Which a History is Related

Library

You stand in a surprisingly long, quiet room that runs the length of this side of Cair Paravel’s west wing. The room is narrow in shape, and thus appears to be more of a long, unusually wide corridor. Someone has constructed a series of shelves along the north wall, under tiny windows that let in only enough light to see by. Torchwicks line the south wall that can be lit for additional illumination, and under them sit several wooden tables and accompanying benches.

The floors are bare, so your footfalls send hollow-sounding echoes through the marble walls. There are archways at the southeast and west ends of the room — the west archway leading into the northwest tower, and the southeast archway leading into the common gallery.

Edmund sits before the fire at the end of the hall with a book open in his lap, his long legs outstretched and feet resting on a hassock. Besides him steam a mug of something that smells of apples and comfort.
Lanisen enters the library through the heavy doors to the east, shutting them gently behind him. Despite the care he takes, the sound echoes through the room and up to the high ceiling. Continue reading

In Which Reparations are Deemed Unnecessary

Library

You stand in a surprisingly long, quiet room that runs the length of this side
of Cair Paravel’s west wing. The room is narrow in shape, and thus appears to
be more of a long, unusually wide corridor. Someone has constructed a series
of shelves along the north wall, under tiny windows that let in only enough
light to see by. Torchwicks line the south wall that can be lit for
additional illumination, and under them sit several wooden tables and
accompanying benches.

The floors are bare, so your footfalls send hollow-sounding echoes through the
marble walls. There are archways at the southeast and west ends of the room —
the west archway leading into the northwest tower, and the southeast archway
leading into the common gallery.

Edmund sits at one of the long tables in the library, breakfasting on eggs and buttered scones and hot tea and reading through a sheaf of reports.
Chlamash makes his way into the Library, several histories underneath his arm. At the presence of the King he bows lowly. Continue reading

In Which Chess is Played and Past Christmases Discussed

Library
*
You stand in a surprisingly long, quiet room that runs the length of this side
of Cair Paravel’s west wing. The room is narrow in shape, and thus appears to
be more of a long, unusually wide corridor. Someone has constructed a series
of shelves along the north wall, under tiny windows that let in only enough
light to see by. Torchwicks line the south wall that can be lit for
additional illumination, and under them sit several wooden tables and
accompanying benches.

The floors are bare, so your footfalls send hollow-sounding echoes through the
marble walls. There are archways at the southeast and west ends of the room —
the west archway leading into the northwest tower, and the southeast archway
leading into the common gallery.
*

Edmund takes a leisurely pace along the length of the outer library wall, his footsteps echoing down the corridor with each step. From time to time he stops to consider a volume, either pulling it from the shelf to join a small pile he’s gathered at one of the tables, or sliding it carefully back into place after a brief glance-through.
Chlamash enters the library with a quick step, pausing at the sound of another’s footsteps.
Edmund looks up at the sound of another. “Ah,” he says warmly. “Chlamash Tarkaan. Hast come to browse the histories again, I surmise.”
Continue reading

In Which Walks are Taken and Extroverts Wondered At

North Garden

The path here offers you two choices, as it branches off into several directions. South will lead you to the center of the garden, southwest to the castle’s hall, and east further into the garden. The best option perhaps is to wander about and enjoy the beautiful shrubbery.

Edmund strides out of the training grounds, sheathing his sword as he walks. His stroll is a pleasant one, and he seems at ease.
Lanisen is just wandering, it seems. He’s bundled up against the day’s chill in a wool coat that looks quite warm, if well-worn, and he has his hands in his pockets. He pauses at the sound of footsteps, looking alertly down the path. Continue reading