#tolkienesque

[myprivateavalon]

[nebmia]

If someone could come up with a word to replace 'tolkienesque' that would be good because the things people use that word to describe basically never remotely resemble Tolkien's work.

[enchantedengland]

Coming home.

Buckland-in-the-Moor, Dartmoor, Devon. I have looked at probably a million images of England during the 12 years I've had this blog, and this may be my favourite. (Alan Howe Photography on flickr)

[omg-amreading]

Before The Fellowship: 4 Fantasy Books Written BEFORE Lord Of The Rings

By this time, most fans of epic fantasy novels have read J.R.R Tolkien's classic Lord of The Rings trilogy. Published in the mid-20th century, The Lord of The Rings has become one…

Although these books are dated, they still hold up compared to newer fantasy epics and are worth a read. If you truly enjoyed reading the Lord of the Rings trilogy, you will no doubt enjoy the books on this list.

[thereisnomorepower]

Day 60 - Mysterious

V místě mezi spánkem a bděním je všechno možné a přicházejí nejzajímavější nápady..Měl jsem naprosto tajemnou a vysoce evokativní vizi gigantického sloupu s kompletním prastarým chrámem nahoře, kolem protkáno šikmými kamennými cestami, které se bez zjevných opor různě protínají..A všude mlha. To, co je nahoře ukryto, je něco mýtického a senzačního.

Nic z toho v realitě nedává moc smysl. Rovnou jsem vylezl z postele (2:30 ráno, cca) a nakreslil si to.

3D bludiště, kde v každém bodě vidíš cíl. Cesta do chrámu by byla plná kreativních řešení. Samozřejmě to vede ke kouzlům, kde je snadné vytvořit takovéto architektonické divy, což můj worldbuilding posunulo zas o kus dál.

[mollymerula]

If you read “The Hobbit” backwards it’s about a really hardcore adventurer who eventually retires and becomes a gardener.

[thatwritererinoriordan]

The people who brought you Dork of the Rings and Harvey Putter and the Ridiculous Premise would like your support to bring you The Throbbit.

[samwysesr]

Repost at Anons request

Heart Song by Samwysesr

The haunting melody echoed through the air, drifting along on the cool evening breeze. Not many would understand the lyrics, the tongue was a difficult one for even the sharpest scholars to master. Like so many elven things, it was beyond mere human comprehension, full of sounds that were harsh, yet strangely beautiful. It never sounded quite as graceful when he spoke it; it felt alien on his tongue, the words falling flat and never trilling in the proper places.

Tucking his arms behind his head, he stared up through the treetops, his mind on the owner of the familiar voice. Her heart song was a peace offering to him, an apology for the harsh words they’d exchanged. He knew he should go to her, gathering her in his arms and kissing away her sorrows, but he held himself back, wanting to enjoy the beauty of her voice for just a few minutes more. Even if he gave into her tonight, the battle would just begin anew as soon as the kisses were done. He could not give her what she wished—he loved her too much to bind her to his mortal fate.

 “Your heart must be a block of ice, to lie there so smug, listening to her lament.”

The voice started him; it was rare that any could approach without his knowledge, even in the darkness. But then, this was no mere man that lurked hidden in the shadows. One need only look into his eyes to see the wisdom and power that rolled just beneath the surface.

“You should know better than to sneak up on me, old one. You might have felt the sharp kiss of my blade before I realized you were friend and not foe.”

The figure in the shadows laughed. “Is that supposed to frighten me? Shall I respond by daring you to try?” There was silence for a moment, and when the voice came again, it was closer. “It’s not impossible, you know.”

“Drawing a blade on you?”

“Impudent whelp. That is not what I meant and you know it.”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before answering. “She is Eldar. I am man.”

“And what of Beren and Lúthien? Did they let such a small difference stand between them?”

“I would not have her suffer my death. I would not have her fade due to mourning the loss of me.”

“Women are far stronger creatures than you credit them to be.” The wizard fell silent, cocking his head as if listening to sounds that only he could hear. “Ah. The song is over. Your lady approaches. Do not be a fool, young Aragorn. You are only one and twenty once in your life, and springtime nights like this are made for words of love and soft embraces with the woman you cherish. Whether you listen to it or not, there is my advice, and with it, I shall take leave.”

“Gandalf?”

The wizard paused, leaning on his staff as if weary of his troublesome company. “Yes? What is it? Speak up, boy, I have places to be.”

“Thank you.”

Nodding his head at the solemn young man, he slowly turned away, chuckling to himself. A moment later the sound of their hushed voices reached his ears, followed soon by a soft, feminine moan of pleasure. As he left the peaceful confines of the glade, heading deep into the forest, he muttered a quiet incantation, assuring that the young lovers would be left in peace, at least for the remainder of the night.