During my week within the pristine guildhouse of the Thornmaw, I began to go rather stir crazy. I was not used to the continual rain and the hushed speech that wafted through the air. It became rather maddening, I could not see myself living in that library for much longer.
I complain, but I’m a cranky old woman. My stay at the Lighthouse was actually very pleasant. It’s a cozy building that has many comfortable places to sit and read, I learned many things while there. Not only about Thornmouth, but also about my own guild. It was a rather enlightening experience. But my journey must continue.
I sat on the back of a bear, my hips swaying with his lumbering stride. The Gossmerian healer whom I was traveling with choose the form for it’s speed and durability. Though, they hadn’t taken much thought into my position. I had to intertwine my fingers through his thick fur to simply prevent each bounce of his hips from throwing me from his hindquarters. The chase didn’t help either. Halfway through the forest I heard a rabid screeching that sent my companion underneath me running. He bolted. We were a blur twining through the trees, a brown-green blending of his fur and my travel clothes. A few hours of running and a sore rump later had the Gossmere shifting back as we approached his home.
The Compound was absolutely peaceful. The sky was clearer than I had ever seen it. The few clouds dotted across the sky was a stark contrast to the dark storm that perpetually looms over Thornmouth. The compound’s gates were wrought-iron and shaped to resemble the Unowl. They cut a striking appearance. I found myself wondering if the artist who created such gorgeous gates was a Flintermere, a polyguild of Flinterforge and Gossmere. It would have taken extremely skillful hands to craft such intricate designs. I was still 20 feet away from the gates and I could make out every feather.
The gates parted for my companion, I later learned went by Bubbles, and I. Almost like two hands unclasping in a welcoming manner. I was soon in awe of the grounds. A winding stream, huge fruit and nut tree orchards, and expansive herb gardens made the grounds idyllic. It was like walking into a lucid dream. The air was charged with a positive energy. My face pulled to a smile despite my panicked mood only moments ago. Bubbles directed me to the main building and peeled off. I assumed he returned to the infirmary, seeing as he was just treating injuries at the Thornmouth lighthouse.
The building was a modest two stories, but it was still very large. I opened the doors and followed a large corridor down to the center of the building. It contained an open air courtyard. I would have stared up at the sky but my eyes were drawn immediately to my feet. Around my sandals yellow flowers seemed to paint themselves on the tiles. I hopped around, watching the colorful pictures follow my feet. As others passed me by, I noticed colors of their own. A brutish man with his fists clenched had a great inferno under his feet. A young girl sitting in the Full Lotus position had deep calming blue water with gentle ripples displayed around her.
I shook off my awe and turned my head to the center of the room. A great fire burned, throwing gentle sparks into the air. Many people were warming their hands and I could hear laughs radiating from those seated and standing around the flames. A sudden exhaustion fell over me and I passed out. When I came too, I found a young man blowing a flute over my face and a cool compress on my forehead. I tried to get up and fell back to the bed, passing out instantly. I awoke hours later. A woman explained to me that I had passed out from dehydration and I now had a concussion. I was prescribed bedrest. I have used this free time to write not only my impressions of Rhythm’s Hearth and the Thornmaw lighthouse. I will be sending them home. But for now. I am confined to the walls of Rhythm’s Hearth, to recover.