Thornmouth Celebrating the Day of Change

A young man looks out a window of the Thornmouth college, facing inwards towards the courtyard and old castle. Despite the storm clouds and the crashing of waves on the cliff below, the air holds an odd stillness, as though Neithernor itself is holding its breath. He stands, collects a stack of papers and an empty mug off the windowsill, and rejoins his guildmates in a nearby study room.
Throughout the entire guildhouse, preperations are underway. Scattered cups are gathered and polished, books are put back into their proper places, and tables are pushed aside, making way for the many mismatched chairs to be arranged in large groups and circles. Armchairs, and kitchen chairs, and three-legged stools, all sit pushed together awaiting the arrival of the many Thornmaw, who will gather to tell stories, to relay their best acheivments and to display their best work, to pull well-worn books off the shelves to pore over together, and to share plans for the upcoming year.
As the everglowing Mindflame throws beams of light across the Neithernorian sea, all of Thornmouth gathers beneath it, ready for whatever changes the magimystical current will bring them.

So here we are again, in the week leading up to the Day of Change. We do celebrate together as a community, but how would we celebrate it as a guild? When we had access to Neithernor, and when the guildhouse was lively, how would we celebrate? Would we have a party? A dignified ceremomy? Would we deep-clean the Guild hall, or would we put up festive decorations? All of the above?


I tend to think at least one part of the celebration would. Be something like the Jolabokaflod (“Yule Book flood”) in Iceland: on Christmas Eve families exchange books and then spend the rest of the night reading together and eating chocolate.

I mean, I sort of can’t think of a more Thornmouth thing to do together, aside from a bloody academic workshop, which isn’t exactly a celebration.


I mean we could make an academic workshop into a celebration, for example, the history of making alcohol, learning all the techniques and executing them. Then seeing who made the best alcohol with which technique. Half of us could do that and then the other half can study the art of being a chef, how that progressed through the years, and make food from different time periods. It’ll be educational and delicious.


A few other ideas, inspired by making up a Thornmouth mood board:

A conceptual meal in the finest traditions of molecular gastronomy. Bacon and eggs for dessert? It’s shortbread shaped like bacon next to a “fried egg” made of lychee and mango gels.

For the drinking, there is symbolism to the chalices, cups, and goblets gathered. Perhaps on this night, nobody fills their own cup. We all fill each other’s, to show how we share knowledge and are enriched by each other.

And everyone wears their finest robe, be it academic regalia or purple satin lounging robe.


Could I engage people in song and also in discussion on fav books.