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Scroll bound by a strand of kelp: Difference between revisions
Scroll bound by a strand of kelp (view source)
Revision as of 01:38, 16 June 2019
, 01:38, 16 June 2019no edit summary
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{{Item | |||
| title = {{#invoke: ColorParse | parse |&Wscroll bound by a strand of kelp&y}} | |||
| commerce = 500 | |||
| id = Scroll Bound By Kelp | |||
| desc = Several sheets of tattered, age-stained parchment bound together at the margins by some sort of glue. | |||
}} | |||
'''{{#invoke: ColorParse | parse |&Wscroll bound by a strand of kelp&y}}''' is a book. Its book ID is "Diary". | |||
==Contents== | ==Contents== | ||
{{quote | {{#invoke: ColorParse | parse |{&w9th of Kisu Ux&y} | {{quote | {{#invoke: ColorParse | parse |{&w9th of Kisu Ux&y} | ||
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But I must pause now. The Cant loudens, and the Elder nears. I vow to conclude my story if I still draw breath, and if I am free. }} }} | But I must pause now. The Cant loudens, and the Elder nears. I vow to conclude my story if I still draw breath, and if I am free. }} }} | ||
{{quote | {{#invoke: ColorParse | parse |&w16th of Kisu Ux&y | {{quote | {{#invoke: ColorParse | parse |{&w16th of Kisu Ux&y} | ||
It is dusk. I sit on the bank of the River Svy, but no fire warms my bones. The risk of drawing moon-doting beasts is too great, and any aggregation of minds is sure to attract the attention of the Elder. Instead, I write by a flame kindled on my thumb. | It is dusk. I sit on the bank of the River Svy, but no fire warms my bones. The risk of drawing moon-doting beasts is too great, and any aggregation of minds is sure to attract the attention of the Elder. Instead, I write by a flame kindled on my thumb. | ||
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It is too late. Though I sit near a stream of primordial soup, though clouds of spores surround me, it is too late. My invocation of Ptoh's name fixed my location and trajectory. The Eater's flesh is mine now, but the Chosen will be here in corporeal form too soon. Could I have lived outside the aggregate for very long, in any case? I do not know. The solitude wears on me as much as my flight. I've one last sundering to perform. A sundering. A memory of a distant life, a lost dream, takes hold. I sunder the mind of a foe to protect a lover.}} }} | It is too late. Though I sit near a stream of primordial soup, though clouds of spores surround me, it is too late. My invocation of Ptoh's name fixed my location and trajectory. The Eater's flesh is mine now, but the Chosen will be here in corporeal form too soon. Could I have lived outside the aggregate for very long, in any case? I do not know. The solitude wears on me as much as my flight. I've one last sundering to perform. A sundering. A memory of a distant life, a lost dream, takes hold. I sunder the mind of a foe to protect a lover.}} }} | ||
[[Category:Books]] | |||