Meadhall of Middleham

Dreary I sought hall of a gold-giver,               
Where far or near I might find                         
Him who in meadhall might take heed of me,
Furnish comfort to a man friendless,               
Win me with cheer.                                           
—The Wanderer

For those who remember the helm and the hauberk and the bright hair flowing: For Eorlingas without hoard-giver or gold-friend or the red fire glowing: A seat in the Meadhall of Middleham waits for you. Four expatriates from the Mark have bought a plot in Breeland's homestead and intend to build their meadhall there. Come to hear the hand on the harpstring, to see the spring and the harvest, and help build a place to call home.

The Meadhall of Middleham is a lore-friendly, historic-focused, heavy roleplay kinship set in Breeland. Its design is to recreate a Rohirric community—a group of people with shared culture and kinship who miss their homelands and, for whatever reason, cannot return. The community has one gathering point—the Meadhall—or, at least, what will become the meadhall. Freyga, the kinship's founder, hopes that she might barter labor in exchange for bringing in the harvest, hire woodsmen to lap the cross-bracings, or gather enough Rohirrim to her cause and kinship to lend whatever aid they can.

Our RP is character-based with a focus in living-history and storytelling. Events are task-focused or social, and open to the public. The kinship currently works out of and gathers at what they have nicknamed Lytelseld—or small hall—7 Long Street in Middleham—until their meadhall is built. Stop by any time to visit the workers, attend our story-telling events to hear a poem or a tale, and share some merriment and mead. 

Day 1

Reaching the end of Long Street, the cobbles fade. Below the cliff that separates Middleham from its neighboring homesteads can be seen a cleared patch of land, obscured by a trail, woods, and piles of timber waiting to be carved, pegged, and posted. This is the future sight of the Meadhall of Middleham. Up the road, a workshop sits on a small hill with its doors open to the air. During the day there are sounds similar to the lumberyard outside Combe: the griping of saws, the groan of wood as it is worked. In the evenings, there can be heard music, cheer, and laughter. The workers who seek to see this hall raised gather to share the same songs they will fill in their grand hall once the shingles are laid and the plaster is dried. 

Day 20

Chetwood oaks, dried from their ferried float across the Midgewater Marsh, lie stacked in the far bend of the copse. A few have been lugged onto blocks for hewing, iron hooks long as a Man’s forearm hammered into the timber to keep the felled trees from rolling off their cradles. Workmen, blond and brown-haired alike, work one to each. With hatchets they gouge grooves into the bark, then shave the roundness away in a hearty rhythm of blows. One, only, has been stripped completely of its roundness and resembles the squared beam it will one day become, when it will hold over a feast of friends the roof of a merry meadhall. Stepping further into the garden of wood-ash and bark leads to ten holes in the ground—the nests waiting to be filled with each column of the great hall’s main apse—over 60 feet in length.

Not far from the cleared land meant for the meadhall is another patch of bared dirt. Here, plans for a stable are laid out in rope, twisted around stakes hammered into the hard soil—an approximation of stalls and rooms for currying, treatment, feed, and tack. The outline rests on a winter yard, its timber fence already being built. Low wattle walls keep a garden nearby safe from hares and deer, the soil freshly nested with carrots, beans, and corn.

Banner image: © 2017 Ancient Technology Centre
Day 1 Image. © Regia Anglorum MCMLXXVI - MMXVIII 
Day 20 Image. https://permies.com/