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Haven & Hearth

There is light, and you find yourself surrounded by a vast and dark forest, with a path ahead of you stretching far off into some distant greenery. All around you, the land draws heavy breaths of wind, carrying with it scents of pine, and earth, and age. You feel light, almost floating, and yet strangely also heavier than you have ever felt before. Centuries are everywhere around, and within you.
Feloldva: nov. 1., 18:27

A Marriage of Light and Darkness

It has been said that certain primordial, mystical, dualities of the Deep Magic will not come undone until at the End of Ages, when Hearthling is the wolf of Hearthling, and all hope is lost. Are you a man or a woman, spirit? The path ahead demands a choice.
Feloldva: nov. 1., 18:27

Wind & Fire

You burn in the fire for what seems like an eternity, in unbearable pain singing through every fibre of your body, convulsing in darkness and flame, and it is with relief that you then suddenly sense the quite different note of a cool breeze, somewhere high above and beyond the fire and the pain. The breeze grows softly stronger, soothing your charred skin, and cooling the rage around you. Before long, there is only the wind.
Feloldva: nov. 1., 19:10

Heave-ho!

Boom! You ripped that thing right off of the ground! It never stood a chance!
Feloldva: nov. 2., 12:26

Things Piling Up

You quietly think to yourself that all of cultured life is one long quest in pursuit of piling one thing ontop of another.
Feloldva: nov. 28., 18:09

Quenching Thirst

You drink deep and greedily in full, dank, draughts, as visions of mist and Huldra dance within the theatre of your mind's eye. Only rarely have you, in hindsight, ever felt this thirsty, and having quenched that thirst now leaves you feeling unusually alive. For the briefest moment the road ahead seems clear.
Feloldva: nov. 4., 2:19

New Land

A feeling of mixed excitement and trepidation comes over you as you stand here, by this edge between two lands, waiting to cross.
Feloldva: nov. 1., 20:01

Treading Grass

A patch of grass brushes against your feet, touching them with dew and damp. It tickles, reminding you of childhood joys, as a smile radiates out across your lips, and further on and away toward a universe which you in this moment know could not know evil.
Feloldva: nov. 1., 19:42

Summit of the Mountain

High above you, cold, unforgiving, and eternal, rises a tall peak of the mountain, grasping after even the clouds and stars themselves.
Feloldva: dec. 4., 4:02

The Symbel

It is not every meal that feels like a grand banquet held in a well-lit Hall, in the company of Kings, to symphonies of blowing horns and roaring fires, flowing with mead, but this one does.
Feloldva: nov. 2., 6:48

Leaping Free

Time pauses and leaves you suspended mid-air, a fly trapped in the amber of time, and for a lifetime passed in the wink of an eye, you hang there from nothing, in defiant conquest of time and space. The thunder of the world surging back into motion is deafening.
Feloldva: nov. 2., 7:37

Striking the Root

Well, that took some doing, but you finally managed to untangle those darn roots, and get that thing out of the ground. Now for what to make of it...
Feloldva: nov. 9., 23:46

Timber!

With your final whack of the hatchet, the tree comes crashing down in a flurrious cascade of twig and branch. Your sense of satisfaction is complete.
Feloldva: nov. 4., 20:57

By Weeping Willows

Why does Old Man Willow weep? In longing for youth and friends bygone, or in sadness at the touch of an axe or an ill wind? Beyond the rustling of leaves you can, in any event, swear that you heard him sobbing.
Feloldva: nov. 2., 12:27

Heart of the Woods

A slow, thumping, beat, pulsating with the age of the forest around you, reveals a Heart of the Wood over yonder.
Feloldva: nov. 1., 19:12

Ancient Windthrow

Sometime, in the great old beginnings, when the Old Gods were still young, free, and wild, a mighty tree did here come crashing down. Now there is only shade, and damp, and the slow decay of ages. You have found an Ancient Windthrow.
Feloldva: nov. 1., 19:25

Planting for the Future

You pad the sapling gently with the moist of the soil, and can, for the brief flash of an instant, see the entire future of this plant, from now to mighty timber, laid out before you, and your act of planting it suddenly seems laden with portent.
Feloldva: nov. 18., 4:14

Well Wishing

The bucket rattles down to bluer fathoms below, and, as it does, the sublime beauty of the world around you suddenly occurs to you. Your heart takes the opportunity to make a secret wish.
Feloldva: nov. 15., 5:15

Ice Spire

Before you a gleaming spike of ice and silver rises toward the heavens, refractured with the cool of the snow and the mountain, sparkling like a million diamonds in the sun. You have found an Ice Spire.
Feloldva: dec. 4., 4:01

Clay Pit

A peculiar, slow, bubbling, combined with a light reek of moisture, decaying matter, and earth, reveals the unmistakable presence of a Clay Pit.
Feloldva: nov. 2., 20:43

Tarpit

A bubbling of muck, the coaly smell of pitch, and the sight of bones, whitening in the sun, tells of a natural Tarpit ahead.
Feloldva: nov. 2., 7:25

The Mother Lode

As the dust settles you suddenly see it, gleaming like some long forgotten treasure in the dark. You've struck an ore vein.
Feloldva: nov. 11., 6:19

Natural Gallery

Your axe suddenly bites into nothing but the damp of long-trapped air, as a final plunge to the rock crumbles a thin wall, and reveals a natural cave gallery, stretching some ways into the darkness ahead.
Feloldva: nov. 11., 22:00

Spelunking

You've entered a cave, and the light from the outside now grows fainter as you delve deeper into it. The cave appears to stretch on for some distance into the pitch. Your sense of excitement tingles, as a light breeze from within the recesses of the mountain touches your cheek, carrying with it a faint, pungent scent of mushrooms and cavebulbs.
Feloldva: nov. 6., 5:20

Caving in

You pass a bend in the road, and then suddenly there it is: A mysterious cave entrance peeking out from behind a tree. Your sense of adventure and the curious is tingled. Will you cave in?
Feloldva: nov. 2., 7:37

Abyssal Chasm

There is a draft, quite cool, from lower recesses, and it is only a faint echo from below which prevents you from suddenly tumbling headfirst down the scar on the world which now stretches out before you. You have found an Abyssal Chasm, and from it blow ill winds.
Feloldva: nov. 2., 7:36

Striking the Earth

You raise your shovel and strike, strike the earth. Dirt flies everywhere and a strong, numinous sense of good omens concerning the project comes over you. The gods smile at your ambitions.
Feloldva: nov. 3., 19:39

Geyser

A furiously bubbling cauldron, steaming with brimstone and possibility, stands before you.
Feloldva: nov. 4., 2:39

Falling Star

A red star, dying in a final glory wreathed in flames, races across the firmament of the Hearth. Perhaps you could find it when it tumbles to the Hearth?
Feloldva: dec. 5., 14:48

Fairy Stone

Ahead lies a reminiscence of dances past, 'neath solstice and full moon, around some ancient stone, laden with magyckal import. A smell of fungi lingers, where tiny feet once trod the ground.
Feloldva: nov. 8., 21:07

Familiar Face

Far, deep down in the blue fathoms, you notice a familiar face looking back at you. A soft smile spreads out across the face of the stranger recognized, and there is calm. You hear sounds of water.
Feloldva: nov. 2., 11:47

Watercraft

It is with a sense of bold adventure that you plunge your craft into the water, and ready yourself to board.
Feloldva: nov. 2., 6:49

Dawn Breaking

They say that the night is always at its darkest just before dawn, and never was this more true than this morning, as the sun rises in unusual splendor over the horizons, burning away any lingering shadows of the night. This fast breaking dawn is truly spectacular.
Feloldva: nov. 6., 22:37

Sensing the Beast

You suddenly freeze at a muffled noise in the distance. Up-ahead stands a majestic beast, in a defiant stride of wilderness triumphant, caring not for the ways of Hearthlings. Nature is amazing.
Feloldva: nov. 2., 20:50

Fashioned with Love

You know that you at some point may have to part with this thing that you made, and that's fine, but for now, for this once, you stand in silent, humble, marvel at the simple perfection here sprung forth from your hands.
Feloldva: nov. 1., 19:38

Fragrance of Flowers

The air here carries a breath of sweet perfume, and you feel the fullness of life pulsating everywhere around you, draped in a note of divine simplicity.
Feloldva: nov. 1., 20:00

Pounding Metal

It is a very special feeling that, pounding metal to form by hammer and muscle. The metallic reverb of your rhythm rings out far and wide.
Feloldva: nov. 14., 13:42

Mixing up the Medicine

There is a sublime smell, pungent, with creamy notes, as if from onion or poppy, arising from the poultice before you, in reminder of the selfless joys of the healer's calling.
Feloldva: nov. 5., 6:07

Monster in the Cellar

The darker corners of this place can be ominously frightening sometimes. There's that frantic clawing from within the walls, and just now you can swear that you saw something large, with ravenous red eyes, skulking in the pitch.
Feloldva: nov. 13., 11:34

The Carving of Runes

As the dust settles, the runes you carved glow back at you in the terrifying red of blood and fire. Vandals and the accidents of decay willing, your message will linger here until the Hearth is rent asunder.
Feloldva: nov. 25., 5:49

Having a Seat

It is nice to rest your weary bones from time to time. It is nice to lay down your burdens. It is nice to have a seat.
Feloldva: nov. 3., 19:17

Laying Old Bones to Rest

It is in sombre rememberance of the finalities of death and passing that you watch, as old bones are laid to rest, now consigned forever to the quiet of a cold tomb, and of eternity.
Feloldva: nov. 30., 18:51

Grave Flowers

With a heavy heart you place your flowers at the door of the crypt and final resting place of a Hearthling now quickly fading from memory, in defiant offering to time, death, and decay.
Feloldva: dec. 10., 11:38

Driving out the Darkness

The light rushes out into every nook and cranny around you, driving off shadows and darkness further into hidden recesses, and revealing ever new possibilities everywhere around you.
Feloldva: nov. 1., 20:32

Freshly Baked

The sweet smell of freshly baked bread wafts against you from the still warm oven. Truly wonderful.
Feloldva: dec. 8., 17:25

Nuggets of Wisdom

In the writhing of molten metal before you, you see woven the threads of distant futures and near pasts, reflected in the pure magic of fire. Clearly nuggets of wisdom, those!
Feloldva: nov. 14., 13:46

Sowing Time

With a light heart you lighten your burden, and give unto the field all that which same shall soon be given back from it in turn. The exchange leaving you both the richer.
Feloldva: nov. 8., 23:07

In Golden Fields

Everywhere around you are golden stands of grain, ripe for the harvest, glowing in the sun, and scenting the winds with hints of grass and soil. These fields are truly a sight to behold, and the labors ahead of you seem lessened by their glory.
Feloldva: nov. 16., 12:41

Anthill Rising

Out from the ground before you rises a grim tower of pine needles and earth, where an endless brood of ants must have toiled since before the dawn of time, digging their winding tunnels down to the very roots of the world. Who knows what ancient horrors lurk inside?
Feloldva: dec. 17., 17:52

Udder Shudder

As you sit down to draw milk, an eerie, if not entirely unpleasant, feeling comes over you. You feel close to the animal, and to the world around you.
Feloldva: dec. 10., 15:53

Crashing Through the Forest

An otherworldly presence, squirming roots and shaking aspen, seemingly bending the natural world around the path it cuts, comes crashing through the foliage in a most sublime spectacle.
Feloldva: nov. 2., 11:33

Swan Lake

The spark of a soft tremor leaps across the fabric of reality, as a majestic apparition, in ghostly white, glides over waters yonder.
Feloldva: nov. 1., 19:57

Stalagoomba's Dance

You're not sure if it's because you have been eating mushrooms, but distantly you can swear you hear the beating of rhythmic drums, as a conga line of Stalagoombas dance past.
Feloldva: dec. 15., 21:14

Gate Between Worlds

A gate stands complete before you, which was not here before, and what was before only outside, now also knows of an inside. A sublime sense of shifting spatiality comes over you, and when it leaves, only the gate remains.
Feloldva: nov. 3., 21:36

Great Thingwall

Ancient custom holds that Hearthings may only be convened in those places noumenal where the Old Gods, in time before time, planted a mighty oak by a table of stone. A Thingwall stands before you, and you now heed its beck and call.
Feloldva: nov. 6., 4:26

Irminsul

In a clearing before you stands a dark, brooding tree, covered in smears of blood, as if from some profane rite.
Feloldva: nov. 25., 5:03

Monolith

A tall pillar of solid, singular, stone rises before you, covered in blood, whether from Hearthling or beast, laden with portent.
Feloldva: dec. 7., 15:53

A Talking Tree

For some reason some power higher than yourself has compelled you to seek out this tree, and it is to your great amazement that you hear -- directionless, as if in echo from everywhere and nowhere -- it speak to you in a soft, seductive voice. Perhaps it desires something?
Feloldva: nov. 4., 2:14

Mighty Grove

The trees stand tall and uniform around you, as if all sprouted from one, singular, seed. There is a sweet scent on the air, and the cool of the shade from a thousand leaves, leaves inescapable the conclusion: You are standing in a Mighty Grove.
Feloldva: nov. 8., 21:05

Star Shard

All around you the cavernous expanse suddenly bathes in an ethereal glow, emanating from the strange object before you. In time before time, when the old gods struck the heavenly anvil, forging the Heavens, this shard of a falling star fell to the Hearth. You know in your Hearth of Hearths that you are the first to lay eyes upon it since its fall.
Feloldva: dec. 15., 2:34



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