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Story Hour
DMO's New and Improved Story Hour (Excellent Source of Whole Grain!) [Updated 8/17]
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<blockquote data-quote="DMO" data-source="post: 2484384" data-attributes="member: 16324"><p><strong>Kylax</strong></p><p></p><p>Kylax sat at his desk, a cluttered affair with scrolls stacked like firewood about the perimeter and several towers of books tilting threateningly over the scatter of writing implements, charcoals, lenses, inks, and parchment sheaves strewn across the surface. The desk was tucked into an alcove in the labyrinthine halls of the Academy of Maps and Measures, for all intents and purposes lost to the world. An aggravated rumble came from the young man's considerable midsection. His hand felt searchingly about the desk while he squinted at a sheet of vellum hanging from the wall.</p><p></p><p>Kylax frowned.</p><p></p><p><em>By the Book!</em> he thought. Did Tyrinek draft from atop a trotting ostrich? His map of Marsk Stig looked for all the world as though it had been penned by a man having a fit.</p><p></p><p>Kylax tore the vellum from the wall and wadded it with disdain. Then, brushing the crumblings of a block of cheese from the topmost sheaf of parchment, he proceeded to re-draft the Stig's expanse -- properly, from memory, and without ever having visited the location. Or set foot in the fields beyond Brigade for that matter.</p><p></p><p>When he completed the task, the shadows across his alcove had grown long. Satisfied, he set the new map aside. His stomach grumbled and he dug about his desk, but only crumbs remained. The next growl was almost menacing in its insistence. Not one to dispute such a stern authority, the rotund cartographer shuffled the chaos of documents in a perfunctory fashion and set off in search of food.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="DMO, post: 2484384, member: 16324"] [b]Kylax[/b] Kylax sat at his desk, a cluttered affair with scrolls stacked like firewood about the perimeter and several towers of books tilting threateningly over the scatter of writing implements, charcoals, lenses, inks, and parchment sheaves strewn across the surface. The desk was tucked into an alcove in the labyrinthine halls of the Academy of Maps and Measures, for all intents and purposes lost to the world. An aggravated rumble came from the young man's considerable midsection. His hand felt searchingly about the desk while he squinted at a sheet of vellum hanging from the wall. Kylax frowned. [i]By the Book![/i] he thought. Did Tyrinek draft from atop a trotting ostrich? His map of Marsk Stig looked for all the world as though it had been penned by a man having a fit. Kylax tore the vellum from the wall and wadded it with disdain. Then, brushing the crumblings of a block of cheese from the topmost sheaf of parchment, he proceeded to re-draft the Stig's expanse -- properly, from memory, and without ever having visited the location. Or set foot in the fields beyond Brigade for that matter. When he completed the task, the shadows across his alcove had grown long. Satisfied, he set the new map aside. His stomach grumbled and he dug about his desk, but only crumbs remained. The next growl was almost menacing in its insistence. Not one to dispute such a stern authority, the rotund cartographer shuffled the chaos of documents in a perfunctory fashion and set off in search of food. [/QUOTE]
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DMO's New and Improved Story Hour (Excellent Source of Whole Grain!) [Updated 8/17]
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