The room itself was large, almost square and  framed within it was a well worn hardwood floor. Big planks of cedar that still glowed faintly, tainted by the loving hands that had set them. Centered in the front wall was the large oaken door through which I had entered and in the back wall, a little to the right of center were Dutch doors leading into a quaint country style kitchen.  On the floor in front of each doorway, to welcome you into the room was a brightly colored throw rug.. Of the kind that is perfect for sledding when the floors are fresh with wax. To left of the front door was a solid looking staircase. It's raisers were made of the same planks of cedar as the floor and it's sturdy runners and railing consisted of oak.. Polished and worn from all the hands that passed over it on their way to one or more of the cozy little rooms upstairs where the PMs were held. Against the wall made by the staircase and framed by two very sturdy looking end tables, lived a couch. Not just any couch, mind you.. But one of those big old 30's style couches. Made to last, and designed when comfort, not functionality was on the minds of furniture makers everywhere. It wasn't a couch that you sat on, but rather the kind you sank into and it lent to it's occupants a sense of lethargic happiness akin to the feeling you get when eating chocolate. It was appolstered in a navy, so dark as to almost be black and it called to those in room, "I'm lonely, come and sit with me!" in a clear and happy voice, that none could resist whenever there was a vacancy. In front of the couch was long low table. It was a heavy looking blocky thing and appeared to have been carved out of one solid ancient piece of yew, made when the earth was young. Whether set here by druids or called from the ether to reside on this spot, the room appeared to have been built around it. For it looked as if it would take the hand of god, or at the least, four very determined men to move it. In a rough semi-circle around the table and facing the couch, sat four Big Comfy Armchairs, (BCA). They were obvious siblings of the couch, I could tell. With their high backs and thickly padded arms they could easily make room for, three or four close friends. To the right of the front door, was an odd construction made out of Vesper style chairs. It resembled an orc fort, solid and sturdy.. Built to withstand the rageings and musings of those within the room. Oddly enough, it fit perfectly with the rest of the decor and offered solace and santurary to those who wished it. Along the left wall were stacked several chests of different sizes and colors. At first glance they appeared to be heaped in a clutter, but after careful study I could see that they were ordered in a subtle pattern that helped give the room a sense of home. Warm light filled the room and came from several windows set in the walls which ringed it. The scenes that met me when I happened to glance outside.. Whether country glade, windswept plain, busy city scape, or winter morn' were dictated by the mood or whim of those that sat nearest them. Each was framed by set of curtains, not lacy or frilly.. But warm solid, sensible colors. Taking up most the surface of an end table in the far left corner of the room, was large unwieldy tome. Scrawled on it's surface was 'UNIX Manual' and it's sheer weight had left a light impression of itself in the table. Sitting upon this tables mate, at the the other end of the couch was a charming little tea service for two. Which Azrielle used when entertaining a distinguished guest or the occasional vampiress that happened by for a visit. On the table before the couch, was a plate and on it was a healthy pile of cookies. That magically replaced themselves when ever one was taken from it. The others had long since left for the evening and I sat looking around to see if I had missed any details, when an odd little man, that I had somehow overlooked hopped down from his place atop a pedestal near the base of the stairs. He quickly and quietly moved about the room, and in his wake all was set in order. The red and yellow throw pillows, of assorted sizes found their respective places, the bullet holes in the walls mended themselves, the chubby pre-schoolers collected the trout and headed towards the door, and all the crumbs from the cookies and the flakes of plaster from the ceiling faded away. The odd little man, lastly hefted a machine gun and put it in it's place, hanging on the wall near the dutch doors. He turned then, headed back to his place and surveying his work on the way, paused to scowl at the chairfort. After a moment he shrugged and continued towards the pedestal, to once again take up his silent vigil of the room. I struggled to my feet and quietly made my way to the door, as memories of those that made this room special echoed through my mind. As I crossed the threshold, I said G'night to Chan and headed down the path towards home, smiled at thoughts of another day spent in the company of friends.