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Gorthondel
Teleninn had always considered the outdoors much better than the indoors. He was, after all, a wizard whose "magic" came the closeness he enjoyed with nature.

Still, he liked his house. There was a room inside for each the things he loved (whenever the weather proclaimed that no sensible man should stay outdoors, where could normally be found, rain and shine). There was a room for music (he adored the grand piano, it looked and sounded good), a room for art, a library with comfortable chairs and a large fire, and when he really needed the presence of a plant, there was an indoor garden, complete with his favorite flowers and shrubs, along with an ornate spiral staircase to the second level.

Today, however, Teleninn was barely noticing the dappled shade he loved of Bourslin Woods. He was on an urgent mission to talk with Gorlin. The trees of the forest had woken him from a pleasent nap in the heavy perfume of his roses with desperate cries. They carried warnings of a storm, unnatural for the present weather patterns that the winds had informed him of. The trees were terrified, and Teleninn hoped that Gorlin would understand their distress.

GirlPuck
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GirlPuck
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