Happy Halloween
Who: Open, please tag yourselves
What: Hallows Eve Celebration
When: Forward-dated to the 31st of October
Where: Starts in the Keep's Great Hall
The chill of autumn has hit the Keep by Hallows Eve. Outside, a bonfire has been lit and it casts a flickering light across the green, where dozens of pumpkins still call and moan from their stakes at any passer-by who might hear. Someone has dressed them up for the occasion, outfitting each with a shirt and leggings stuffed with straw, and adding wooden hands and feet. Now dozens of pumpkin-headed scarecrows stand sentinel about the Keep, throwing long dancing shadows.
Along the pathways and the bridge there are more of them. But unlike those that scream and cry, these straw spectres have been left headless, and something has stained their shoulders and the most of their shirts dark, almost black under the firelight.
Between the overcrowded and noisy decorations, and the cold, celebrations have been moved indoors.
Both fireplaces have been lit in the Keep’s Great Hall but there are only tapers otherwise, leaving the room smoky and dim. Thankfully, there are no jack o’ lanterns here, though anyone who has been a guest for a while might recognize the curtain-like spider webs that hang from the rafters as entirely authentic and all too sticky.
Tables are again laden with food, from spit-roasted shark-sheep to thick pumpkin soup and roasted pumpkin, pumpkin pie and pumpkin fritters. There are barrels of candied apples, bowls of boiled candies, tiny toffee cups filled with caramel and pumpkin-flavoured meringues.
Benches line the tables and barrels of ales and wines line one wall. A space has been cleared around the dais for dancing, and the gallery above is full of instruments and music.
As the chapel’s bell rings in the evening meal, the hall’s doors are thrown open, ready to receive the evening’s guests.
What: Hallows Eve Celebration
When: Forward-dated to the 31st of October
Where: Starts in the Keep's Great Hall
The chill of autumn has hit the Keep by Hallows Eve. Outside, a bonfire has been lit and it casts a flickering light across the green, where dozens of pumpkins still call and moan from their stakes at any passer-by who might hear. Someone has dressed them up for the occasion, outfitting each with a shirt and leggings stuffed with straw, and adding wooden hands and feet. Now dozens of pumpkin-headed scarecrows stand sentinel about the Keep, throwing long dancing shadows.
Along the pathways and the bridge there are more of them. But unlike those that scream and cry, these straw spectres have been left headless, and something has stained their shoulders and the most of their shirts dark, almost black under the firelight.
Between the overcrowded and noisy decorations, and the cold, celebrations have been moved indoors.
Both fireplaces have been lit in the Keep’s Great Hall but there are only tapers otherwise, leaving the room smoky and dim. Thankfully, there are no jack o’ lanterns here, though anyone who has been a guest for a while might recognize the curtain-like spider webs that hang from the rafters as entirely authentic and all too sticky.
Tables are again laden with food, from spit-roasted shark-sheep to thick pumpkin soup and roasted pumpkin, pumpkin pie and pumpkin fritters. There are barrels of candied apples, bowls of boiled candies, tiny toffee cups filled with caramel and pumpkin-flavoured meringues.
Benches line the tables and barrels of ales and wines line one wall. A space has been cleared around the dais for dancing, and the gallery above is full of instruments and music.
As the chapel’s bell rings in the evening meal, the hall’s doors are thrown open, ready to receive the evening’s guests.