Jarek
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Here behind the curtain lies a darkness feeding
Pooled inside, in hunger cries, and still it's eating
Everything I had to hide is all on my sleeve
And behind the curtain lies my soul, I’m bleeding
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The sensation of falling was an all encompassing horror, encased in darkness. Spinning, turning unsure of which way was up, and which way was down. With darkness came a biting chill. There was just nothing. It was empty, but with each moment it felt like further air had been sucked out from within his chest. Draining the air from his lungs. Like a safety boat in a storm, he caught her scent in the chaos. She was here; but where? With each falling moment he felt like he was passing her by, that she was just out of reach.
Sweat beaded down his forehead in globs. It had been another night of endless dreams of searching. Her warmth and her scent had seemingly become firmly lodged within his senses. He had not had such feverish dreams since he had first left the desert to find these lands. He hoped that it was further evidence of the Desert Gods pushing him to find the mysterious unnamed mare. A walker of Astral planes that he had stumbled across.
During these sleepless nights he had begun weaving and construction of a gift for the next time fate drew them together. It was only a matter of time, but he would work hard to complete it before then. One night wandering from his sleep he had found a purely white pelted beast deceased. The moonlight had lit it up in such startling clarity. This was clearly going to be the foundation of his crafting, the being no longer needed its pelt. He would ensure that it would not be wasted. Its rare beauty would be captured and preserve his intended tome, while nature reclaimed the rest of the beast.
It had been difficult work, stripping the flesh and hair from the thin hide. He had to then gently work the hide to make it supple and soft. The work was honest, and distracted him from the feeling welling within his gut. It felt, at the very least, productive. He hummed and chanted softly while he worked, it brought comfort to his unsettled mind. Humming of the old gods, of their stories and their struggles. Of stories of long gone warriors and their challenges. Of maidens and crones alike.
To make the pages he selected trees with fine bark. He stripped them back and let them dry before grounding them to a fine paste. Which he processed into pages using a mold made of branches. Making the thread to further combine and decorate the object had been challenging. Combining many thin strands of reeds together, plaiting them finely. He stitched the pages together, and then stitched them into a sturdy spine. His own significant weight had been useful for pressing the pages together into a tightly bound tome. He used sap from other nearby trees to glue the pages and the cover together. Finally, he sewed a pattern for decoration into the front of the leather using the same fine reed thread, patterns of the stars and moon he saw overhead and a flickering fire.
The inside cover pages, and the final pages he coloured with deep charcoal. The colour reminded him of the endless falling in his dreams. The contrast between the white leather cover and the black inner pages pleased him. The functional pages within were a crisp clean white, with some evidence of texture from the bark used to create it. It smelt oddly sweet, a combination from the sap and the reeds used to craft the thread.
When he finished this, he was satisfied with his work. But he felt like it needed something more. He had recalled the veil she wore, beautiful and fine. It took many nights of experimentation, but finally he had managed to create a fine material. He had searched high and low looking for beetles for their unique colouration. They seemed rare, and perhaps non-existent in these lands. Without a beatle it would be very hard to dye the cloth in the desired colouration.
One morning he awoke with the embrace of the morning sun. He was well rested having finished his crafting tasks. There was a tickle of prickly legs on his nostrils. He snorted, sending the small insect flying into the dirt. He was shocked and surprised to see a colourful beetle crawling in the dirt. It was clearly another sign from the gods, this almost certainly blessed his previous efforts.
He hummed and chanted with the beatle processing its body into a beautiful multicolored shining dye for the veil he had crafted. Small flecks of its shell preserved and attached at points on the cloth, like glittering gems in the night. This veil reminded him of his gods, and the life he was to build here. To move on, with the mysterious mare. He wrapped the Veil around the finely crafted tome and hoped they would soon meet again.
Tldr; Jarek crafts the following while lamenting and dreaming about Torielle:
White leather bound tome, with decorative stitching. Depicting the stars, moon and a firelight. The inside cover pages and final pages are coloured black with charcoal.
Matching white veil coloured with reflective beetle dye, causing it to shimmer different colours in the light, with small shell pieces cut as small irregular shapes that adorn it like gems.
OOC: Outfit purchased from Morphi account and sent to Torielle to redeem, so this can be used in our next thread <3
This thread isn't open to replies and exists for the crafting process.
