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Mar 24 daily
Hobbit hole
Word count: 620
The hobbit hole was cozy if you only went into the living room.
The ceiling was low, and a light hung from the center of the living room. It was the first thing you saw as you stepped inside. Perhaps to lure you in, make you think this place was normal? Who knows. Danielle always had her reasons.
A fireplace crackled as you stepped in. Warmth flooded around you, protecting you from the frigid temperatures outside and beckoning to you. You give a little shiver and sigh of relief as the warm air sinks into your bones. You set your hat on the hat rack, placed in the hall, and take a good and proper look around.
A few bookshelves line one wall of the room, standing behind a cushy arm chair that was a pleasant shade of pastel lime. A footstool lies in front of that, and a small stand next to the chair. It’s a nice set-up. Nothing too unusual, completely normal for any self-respecting hobbit. You wonder where Danielle is. She probably forgot I was coming and is in her room, cozying up with a book. You chuckle to yourself. Even though no one has invited you in yet, you take a chance and shut the door behind you, shaking snow off of your feet.
You walk towards the hallway leading out of the living room. You wonder what lies beyond, considering there hadn’t been anything strange in the living room. Danielle was a very strange person, so it made no sense that her living room was completely normal.
You blink in surprise as you round the corner.
It is the queerest writing station you have ever seen. It’s very strange indeed, this room. A desk sits in the very center of the chaos, a small island in the eye of the storm. The rest of the room is covered with papers and books and puddles of ink. You reach down to pick up the nearest piece of paper. It’s covered in random words and lines and squiggles, everything meeting in the center to write out There And Back Again. You shake your head in disgust. What sort of hobbit would have such a- an adventurous book in their library? You’d personally only heard whispers of the book, supposedly written by the famous Bilbo Baggins.
You drop the paper and tiptoe across what is probably a floor. You can’t see it for parchment and tomes, though.
After that, there is a small kitchen. A door is behind everything, probably being the pantry. The kitchen is completely clean, but a vase of- were those black roses? Did those even exist?
You shake your head in confusion.
The hallway beckons to you, but you don’t think you should go any further. However, a silver glint catches your eye and you hesitantly enter the next room.
Full suits of armor, all shapes and sizes, line the walls. Hung up are axes and swords and bows and quivers of arrows, all made with the most magnificent craftsmanship. Almost like they were made by elves or some other supernatural creature. Engravings are made in unfamiliar tongues across every metal surface. You hear a clatter as you move and look down, realizing that coins cover the floor. Or maybe the floor is coins? You truly can never tell with Danielle.
You hear somebody behind you and turn, still trying to process what is happening. You knew Danielle was strange, but this is a whole different level. Your eyes widen as you begin to apologize profusely to the person behind you.
Danielle smiles widely, shaking her head at your begging for forgiveness.
“Hello. Welcome to my home, The Dragon’s Hoard!”
Hobbit hole
Word count: 620
The hobbit hole was cozy if you only went into the living room.
The ceiling was low, and a light hung from the center of the living room. It was the first thing you saw as you stepped inside. Perhaps to lure you in, make you think this place was normal? Who knows. Danielle always had her reasons.
A fireplace crackled as you stepped in. Warmth flooded around you, protecting you from the frigid temperatures outside and beckoning to you. You give a little shiver and sigh of relief as the warm air sinks into your bones. You set your hat on the hat rack, placed in the hall, and take a good and proper look around.
A few bookshelves line one wall of the room, standing behind a cushy arm chair that was a pleasant shade of pastel lime. A footstool lies in front of that, and a small stand next to the chair. It’s a nice set-up. Nothing too unusual, completely normal for any self-respecting hobbit. You wonder where Danielle is. She probably forgot I was coming and is in her room, cozying up with a book. You chuckle to yourself. Even though no one has invited you in yet, you take a chance and shut the door behind you, shaking snow off of your feet.
You walk towards the hallway leading out of the living room. You wonder what lies beyond, considering there hadn’t been anything strange in the living room. Danielle was a very strange person, so it made no sense that her living room was completely normal.
You blink in surprise as you round the corner.
It is the queerest writing station you have ever seen. It’s very strange indeed, this room. A desk sits in the very center of the chaos, a small island in the eye of the storm. The rest of the room is covered with papers and books and puddles of ink. You reach down to pick up the nearest piece of paper. It’s covered in random words and lines and squiggles, everything meeting in the center to write out There And Back Again. You shake your head in disgust. What sort of hobbit would have such a- an adventurous book in their library? You’d personally only heard whispers of the book, supposedly written by the famous Bilbo Baggins.
You drop the paper and tiptoe across what is probably a floor. You can’t see it for parchment and tomes, though.
After that, there is a small kitchen. A door is behind everything, probably being the pantry. The kitchen is completely clean, but a vase of- were those black roses? Did those even exist?
You shake your head in confusion.
The hallway beckons to you, but you don’t think you should go any further. However, a silver glint catches your eye and you hesitantly enter the next room.
Full suits of armor, all shapes and sizes, line the walls. Hung up are axes and swords and bows and quivers of arrows, all made with the most magnificent craftsmanship. Almost like they were made by elves or some other supernatural creature. Engravings are made in unfamiliar tongues across every metal surface. You hear a clatter as you move and look down, realizing that coins cover the floor. Or maybe the floor is coins? You truly can never tell with Danielle.
You hear somebody behind you and turn, still trying to process what is happening. You knew Danielle was strange, but this is a whole different level. Your eyes widen as you begin to apologize profusely to the person behind you.
Danielle smiles widely, shaking her head at your begging for forgiveness.
“Hello. Welcome to my home, The Dragon’s Hoard!”