Notice: With the Laurelin server shutting down, our website will soon reflect the Meriadoc name. You can still use the usual URL, or visit us at https://meriadocarchives.org/

biscuits

Boats out of bounds

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

Me grandpa made a wooden boat
A little one with tiny sails
He carved me name into its hull
The finest toy I ever had

We let it in the river float
And then he told the wildest tales
The summer day was never dull
Me grandpa always made me glad

Of Thains and treasured biscuits

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Story

As some of yer know, I grew up in Brockenborings. When I was little, I used to run around a lot with me friends, looking for berries in the Bindbole Woods, fishing in the local streams and playing with the sheep grazing on the fields. However, even though we roamed far and wide, we never missed any meals back home. Not least because me ma enjoyed inviting the neighbours over for tea.

My biscuits

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Poetry

Biscuits at sunset

I’m cloaked in the dark, you can’t see me
I roam like a wolf, both wild and free
No challenge to huge, no task to hard
I’ll seek out all the treasure under yer guard
Keep secrets at bay and lock yer door
But here I come, sneaking cross the floor
So ma, understand I’ll claim what’s mine
The treasure upon which I will dine

Journal entry 6, Burning the Biscuits

What kind of Adventure is this?: 
Diary

Dear Mother and Father,

 

Subscribe to RSS - biscuits