Nicci-Grace Isbell
4 months ago

Project Update: Writing Sneak Peak

Good morrow, fellow adventurers…or “top of the mornin’ to ya,” as they (definitely don’t) say from whence I hail. 
 
First and foremost, thank you for your enduring patience as we craft this exciting first instalment in the Unlock the Vault series. The good news is that the writing has been submitted to the editing team (me…I am the editing team). The even BETTER news is that I am working to polish it to absolute perfection before I let our graphic design team (Petero himself) turn it into a beautiful masterpiece. 
 
Of course, as you well know, polishing any adventure takes time and commitment, but this, being the adventure to launch all adventures needs a particularly keen eye. That said, we know you, our loyal supporters, will appreciate that this one shot will be worth its wait in gold (see what I did there…).
 
The writer/game designer/CEO (yes, he wears many hats) tried to sneak a little more content into the one shot than we promised you, so here is a taste of what the adventure holds, which may or may not make it to the final cut but will 100% feature somewhere someday in something we publish...
Hope you enjoy it!
 

Fall of Eldoranthir

In elven days of yore, there thrived a lady fair and bright,
Eldoranthir in splendor danced, her face bathed in golden light. 
Her slender form a blooming rose, red rocks beneath her feet, 
A lady of the mountains high, where tree and sky doth meet.
 
Oh, Eldoranthir, so fair and fine, in sunset's warm embrace,
You danced upon your golden throne, fire danced upon your face. 
Red runs the river, oh, red rivulets of life,
For his folly fell upon your heart, a dark and deadly knife.
 
Threads of silver magic once wove a shield so strong, 
They say the well within your heart, now sings a mournful song.
A mad god sought to claim you, left you as a desert dry, 
The people from the east, they came, refused to let you die.
 
Oh, Eldoranthir, so fair and fine, in sunset's warm embrace, 
You danced upon your golden throne, a vision pure of grace. 
Red runs the river, oh, the river of your life,
King’s folly fell upon your heart, a dark and deadly knife.
 
Your cloak draped blood-red hills, and warmed valleys oh so green,
In the wings darkness hid, in the halls of time unseen.
War raged on, the dragons came, your streets they filled with screams,
Your bones among the rolling hills, not more than haunted dreams.
 
Oh, Eldoranthir, so fair and fine, in sunset's warm embrace, 
You danced upon your golden throne, a vision pure of grace. 
Red runs the river, oh, the river of your life,
King’s folly fell upon your heart, a dark and deadly knife.
 
Oh, Wellsing, trapped in dark undeath, the Crescent Mountains weep,
For man knows not the way of gods and sows what he doth reap.
Mayhaps they’ll one day find you, mayhaps they’ll heal your scars.
May they break your curse, and brush your hair, may you dance among the stars.
 
--“Fall of Eldoranthir (The Dancing Lady),” from Laments of the Ages 
by the blind minstrel Turlock O’Karolan
Stored in the Black Vault in the archives of Lorekeep
 
 
Lots of luck,
Nicci-Grace
(chaotic good, female, elf lorekeeper)
 
 
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