The Mortuary North of Valkur's Roar
Oct 16, 2018 8:16:26 GMT -5
gathera, emeraldsnowx, and 1 more like this
Post by Deleted on Oct 16, 2018 8:16:26 GMT -5
In the early hours of the morning, just as the fog coming in off the waters surrounding Valkur's Roar is starting to burn off with the coming dawn, an older man in his early sixties is seen walking through the streets of Valkur's Roar. White of hair and beard and marked by the wears of age he still yet makes for a quick pace as he sweeps past market stalls being set up in preparations for the early risers looking to get a good deal. Small ink bottles and quills tied with small leather cords to his belt bounce against each other and his grey robes. Thin white gloves cover his hands with hints of ink stains on each. A fine bit of off colored dust clings stubbornly on his sleeves. A satchel stuffed to overfilling shows the ends of yellowed scrolls each sealed with lumps of grey wax. Around his neck hanging on a leather cord the symbol of his order, a skull with cork stoppered eyes and a scroll clenched between its teeth.
As he reaches the northern gate he offers a few quiet words with the guard in a rasped even voice with no mirth nor sorrow holding in his features. The guard would see him approach and press open the wrought iron gate of the Mortuary. Drawing out a fresh parchment from his satchel he glances down to read over the words once more before slipping it into a crack in the doorjamb to hold. Before moving back on his way he takes a moment to take pause and bow respectfully before the small weathered shrine that holds no name within the grounds. The wrought iron gate is closed behind him and the strange figure with his grey eyes is soon swallowed up by the receding fog as he makes his way off to the north.
*The letter written in a neat script and practiced hand shows sprinkling of a off white dust across the ink. A bit of grey wax seals the letter*
To the Mortician here within a word had is wished with one Scrivener Dust. Found within your lands and with skills sorely needed in these times of youth forgetful of the respect due the dead. A skilled mortician and priest of the The Final Scribe available at your leisure to serve and assist in your work. Letters to be received at Talbot's establishment here within the city of Valkur's Roar.
Scrivener Dust
*The symbol of The Forgotten One is placed below centered on the parchment. A skull biting down on a scroll with a quill set behind it*
As he reaches the northern gate he offers a few quiet words with the guard in a rasped even voice with no mirth nor sorrow holding in his features. The guard would see him approach and press open the wrought iron gate of the Mortuary. Drawing out a fresh parchment from his satchel he glances down to read over the words once more before slipping it into a crack in the doorjamb to hold. Before moving back on his way he takes a moment to take pause and bow respectfully before the small weathered shrine that holds no name within the grounds. The wrought iron gate is closed behind him and the strange figure with his grey eyes is soon swallowed up by the receding fog as he makes his way off to the north.
*The letter written in a neat script and practiced hand shows sprinkling of a off white dust across the ink. A bit of grey wax seals the letter*
To the Mortician here within a word had is wished with one Scrivener Dust. Found within your lands and with skills sorely needed in these times of youth forgetful of the respect due the dead. A skilled mortician and priest of the The Final Scribe available at your leisure to serve and assist in your work. Letters to be received at Talbot's establishment here within the city of Valkur's Roar.
Scrivener Dust
*The symbol of The Forgotten One is placed below centered on the parchment. A skull biting down on a scroll with a quill set behind it*