Anthology of a Black Wool Tapestry

Character Biographies, Journals, and Stories

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Kaybrie
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Joined: Sun Feb 26, 2017 4:48 pm

Anthology of a Black Wool Tapestry

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Presenting a tome; its envelope two birch boards lacquered and wrapped in oiled leather, bound at the center with careful threading and adhesive binding. The front cover is identified by the candlestick impression with imagery of three stars emblazoned above and wrapped in a crescent moon. Several crimson braids wind their way out from the center binding, built-in bookmarks for the impromptu reader. The inside cover is plain and unmarked; threading seemingly set inside the leather carefully layered over to protect from the elements and the wear of time. The first page is a cursive prayer and the authors' dedication; her signature set at the bottom corner.


Anthology of a Black Wool Tapestry


May the broken endure,
and the scribe reveal.


That I might chronicle the journeys of illustrious heroes, dastardly villains and the struggles of the Sword Coast. Be you reading this by firelight among friends and family or in solitude by candles flame, I offer my greetings and hope you will be inspired by these stories. This tome is dedicated to those who let themselves be consumed in daring tales of dashing heroes and enigmatic poetry of scandalous romance.













Caeth
Yashe - Paladin of Sune
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Kaybrie
Posts: 98
Joined: Sun Feb 26, 2017 4:48 pm

Re: Anthology of a Black Wool Tapestry

Unread post by Kaybrie »

Apostate

Stillness and silence broke through a room, eyes of a dozen shapeless figures resting upon a girl garbed in black. Hands stained crimson with a curling dagger set in one palm; two round eyes stared out from the shadows of her hood at the body now crumpled at her feet. The girl was pretty, younger than she with glazed eyes still wide with fear. Blonde locks stained crimson at their tips; wrists and feet bound and a gag that had been tugged down about her neck. Fingers twitched outward and the blade tumbled from her hand, clattering steel cackling as it shattered the silence of the chamber. Blood pooled at the girls' feet; she could do naught but scream.

~

The sun cast across Athkatla with all the impropriety of a sergeant whipping his men from their bunks at the crack of dawn. The conscientious already well into their routine, emerging from their homes to tend their fields or open their shops. The sloth whimpering to their windows, begging a few more minutes of mercy.

A balcony overlooking part of the city rested among the nobility. A figure stood with jewels adorning her clothing, cupping a carved wooden cup wisping steam to her nostrils. She was so unlike the commons of the city, today more than ever. She felt no warmth from the sun that morning, only the chilling reminder of the events of the night before. Her reflections were broken by a familiar timber cutting through her thoughts to drag her back to the world.

"Sophia." Sounded a voice filled with compassion, yet threaded with venom.

Shoulders shrank forward, she didn't dare turn to face the familial voice. Yet it continued just the same; kind, easy-going in spite of everything.

"Rest child, you needn't trouble yourself. What's done is done, the dwelling will only burden your heart where you might be elated, free. Your blood sings now I know this, I can feel your hearts' release." Fingers snaked between the mug and her palm, tugging one hand from the drink to offer a reassuring squeeze. "Come the evening we have a meeting with some merchants from Baldur's Gate, I need you sharp and astute to chronicle the details, just in case I miss something. I know you'll be there to catch me."

Sophia turned her eyes to the older woman, a reflection filled with color with only the faintest signs of aging; a blessing from the powers she served. Assurances for the spineless girl, yet no word was spoken directly of the night prior. Perhaps none would be.

"Just let me finish this." Came her quiet reply. "I'll find my way to my chambers after." How could she just ignore what had happened, what she had partaken in? And yet, every contrivance demanded that she do so. There was a feeling of wrongness, but also ease in conformity.
Yashe - Paladin of Sune
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