Utrettelig Fjærpenn a.k.a The Coffee Quill
(Norwegian) Tireless Quill
Sturla Snorrason looked up from another finished page. Black stained fingers reached into the large jar of blotting sand. For being nearly a fine-grind powder, the crystals felt surprisingly abrasive as he cast pinch after pinch over the still-damp words before setting the page aside. After a brief respite to work out the fogginess in his extremeties and taking another drink of the pure waters of the pool beneath the outstretched limbs of the king of the woods, Sturla returned to his work. *SNAP!* The sound of a breaking quill is quickly silenced by his surroundings. Frazzled by the loss of his favourite pen, Sturla took his first true look at his environment since losing himself to story and prose. Numerous polished wood carvings of all sorts of forest creatures stood throughout the grove. The air was still. Heavy but still feeling crisp from the chill. No movement or sound responded to the sudden disturbance as Sturla's eyes swept through his surroundings. A particularly prickly beast caught Snorri's eye from a deep groove between two of the great tree's roots. Posed mid-step was a porcupine carved out of what must have been black walnut. "The artisan must have spent years on this piece" he thought, eyeing the seemingly thousands of individually crafted quills adorning the back of the wooden rodent. "Surely nobody will notice a single quill out of tens of thousands." With no birds in sight and no means to catch one anyway, Sturla fetched his penknife and pried one of the larger quills from the carving before setting it back in its original place. "There, none's the wiser and right as rain. You'll keep my secret won't you little fella?" Snorri turned on his heels and returned to his work, eager to test his newfound writing utensil. * Scritch. Scratch. Scritch. Swish. * The ink flew freely along with the words. Incredibly penmenship flowed through his wrist with a newfound energy and excitement. The hours and the pages flew by. Day became night, and then day again. Still Sturla worked. * Dip, scritch, scratch. Dip, scritch, scratch. * Blot, blow, repeat. The paper stacked high beside the Gnome until suddenly, "Legenden om Evig Liv" stood complete.
Unlock 5e content while exploring my world, Olutanri, by checking the self-subscribe button below!
By checking this box, you confirm that you have read and agree to OGL - 5e.
If you see this you're subscribed - congrats!
Table of Contents
5e Content
PLACEHOLDER STATBLOCK
Unique Artifact
Remove these ads. Join the Worldbuilders Guild
Comments