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Title: New Beginnings. (Pt. 2) Post by: Pickles on May 23, 2018, 06:13:28 am The downtrodden woman slowly crept her way out of the crumbling, rotting tower. Violent waves splashing against the Western shore, sloshing up the banks. Only further reminding her of the violent storm that washed her legacy away. Who knows how many years of toiling away, transcribing every last, old, dusty scroll was lost to the wilds. An entire library, packed to the brim with lore, knowledge, tales, songs, scripture and spells reclaimed by the sea.
She left the scattered mess of tomes and the rotten, sinking remains of the forgotten tower behind. Only tearing out the waterlogged page containing the Arcanist roster. She folded the paper delicately, tucking it between the pages of her spell book, safe. As if those lost names listed above would be the last time she'd hear her colleagues, no, friends' names. For some, it was true. Others, though, there was still a spark of hope in her heart. The grim and stone faced woman march forward, splashing through the soggy shire woods. Her face was a mask of despair, loneliness, regret, but most of all determination. She wandered for what seemed hours, drifting through the shire, looking for some form of hope. Some form of... forgiveness? -Ting, gling, ring!- Rattled the bells on her Jester cap, firmly clutched in her fist, at her side. She wandered for some time, finally finding herself along the south coast of the Covian shoreline. Her head tilted up as she spotted a massive boulder. The thing was as big as a house. Her green tinted eyebrows knitted together tightly, an idea suddenly springing to mind. Wasn't there a structure built upon a boulder like this on the coast of the bay in Cove Proper? It lasted for decades, centuries, even. A head tilted to the side as she stepped forward and clapped a hand against the cold stone of the massive boulder. "An Ancient landslide must have littered the area with rocks the size of these..." She clucked her tongue. She patted her hand against the stone a moment, pondering. "No hurricane would wash this out..." The uniformed woman nibbled against her bottom lip, staring upward. "The Pioneers used to ride these babies for miles!" The inside joke, shared with no one but herself already cracking the stone cold face of the depressed woman. A slight, snorting giggle rumbling out, a hand lifting to tug that Jester hat firmly upon her forest green head. "We can make it work..." she smiled to herself, already getting herself excited for the future to come. A hand patted her spell book, which contained that old roster. "I won't let you down this time, friends." (http://imgoat.com/uploads/fd0b37cd7d/113903.png) (http://imgoat.com/v/113903) It was a struggle, coming up with in finances for such a project, but draining what was left of her Officer's stipend, the meager profits of her Privateering actions with the Vesper Trading Company, and the resources left of what was her Privateer ship, sunken in the bay proved enough. Good, treated timbers, old, rusty cannons melted down and sold for scrap metal, all in all, it added up. Not for what she had dreamed for. Grand, marble halls, finely tinkered science tools and sprawling bookcases. No. It was small, it was meager. It was plaster and wood, but it was Covian. |