[piosenniel]

Here are two descriptions of the meeting. Please read them carefully and craft your First Post for the game with them in mind.

Your character's First Post should revolve around hearing about, thinking about it and the events that have led up to it, and arriving at this meeting called by King Thranduil.

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From Arien:

Four months later (Note: after the disappearance of the two Elves, Talas and Renude, and others of the Elven host) a meeting was called:

To all the Elves of this Realm, the time has come to call into question the Shadow . . .

When Ceros had first heard the notice he had snorted, as if this was just another gathering to deal with rogue spiders or unwanted trespassers. But as the Council grew closer, realization hit him. This was serious, the heads of the guards were attending, along with scholars and Thranduil was to be present. Maybe this was actually going to do something. And about time too. There had been more disappearances of late and Ceros could never stop thinking that he and Orodhin might have carried the same fate as Talas and Renude. They had lost some of their best fighters too. Just vanishing into the night, no trace left. But al least no something was going to be done.

Ceros made his way to the meeting alone. He had just finished guarding duty, being posted at the west entrance. Luckily escaping duty on the South gate. No one wanted to guard their anymore. No, not since the shadow had got much thicker. As he walked down the Elven path he past the great trees, birds sang their songs, which were once so full of pleasure, but now alas they were filled with misery and woe. The sunlight glinted through the tree tops, and whispers of their Elven dwellers could be heard echoing throughout. Ceros was now nearing the Halls, there were beautiful trees lining the way to the Halls, and around it flowed a dark, strong, swift river and over it was the bridge. The bridge then lead to the mighty doors, which were now swung wide open. Two guards were placed either side of the large gaping hole in the mass of rock. Slowly nodding towards the guards her carried on inside the Hall. The walls were carved with amazing shapes and pictures, breath taking they were but Ceros had no time to stop and stare he was already late. Deep he went into the ground, following the endless, dim corridors but he finally reached it.

He made his way to the main atrium where the meeting was being held. Slowly he slipped into the room. There were fifty or so chairs in a large circle. At the head sat Thranduil, upon his fair head he wore a crown of woodland flowers, for it was spring again. But somehow it did not feel so. He wore rich green robes embroidered with golden stitches, and he sat upon his wooden throne. The rest of the circle was comprised of various Elves, some scholars, others guards and some Elves of high stature. The atrium, was a circular room with a high ceiling and broad walls. Large pillars were carved from the living rock and were decorated in spring flowers of many colours. The room was lit with many glowing candles and sweet perfume burned, filling Ceros' mind with the smell of Spring. Slowly he took his seat beside Orodhin, Thranduil rose.

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From Maika:

There are no less than thirty of the most influential Elves (including Ihwesta’s brother, Orodhîn) sitting in a semi circle with Thranduil’s chair opposite them with I guess his wife and son(s) and daughter(s)—if any—on either side of him. The hall is in the design of a clearing in a forest. Columns are in the shape of trees from which branches protrude when they meet ceiling, reaching out over the room. Candelabras—with five uneven candleholders each—stand around the border of the room giving off an adequate amount of light. The chairs are made of mahogany, the most fine and rare kind of wood with carvings of vines, fruits, nuts and berries on them. [I’m going to say that it’s probably around early springtime?] Thranduil is wearing a crown of golden vines with budding flowers representing the time of season. His robes are of vibrant blues and golds and his golden blond hair is not plaited but let loose and wavy over his broad shoulders. In his left hand he holds his scepter: made of mahogany that is finely painted in motifs of lilies and daffodils for the spring season. The meeting is taking place in early evening around 5:00 pm.

[ June 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]