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The wood has progressively become denser, gently but firmly herding you to this one path, surprisingly clear of brush or debris. Suddenly, you realize you are in a corridor made of the trunks of trees so closely grown as to form a solid wall. Down this strange wood corridor there is the soft orange glow of firelight.

As you approach the firelight you hear melodic voices and song. As you come to the end of the corridor you enter into a room as strange as any as you have ever seen. The trees extend out to the sides opening into a large room, a hall really. Fifty feet wide and twice as many long. Strewn about this hall are small hillocks with mossy caps and felled logs, many with an elf perched upon them.

Woodhall was stolen from here, a great blog- you should check it out! (thanks Libranchylde!)



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