08-20-2012, 10:02 PM
12-10-2012, 12:52 PM
Blessed Silver, ground to a fine powder and suspended in ether to form a slightly runny paste.. Perfect as an ink for tattoos.
And it begins. A single needle, pinprick by pinprick, the blessings, the prayers, the verses of the Light begin to be marked permanently. Skin is pierced until blood is drawn, the silver ether being forced in. Around the left wrist, symbols and words are soon formed.
One day of searing pain out of many to follow.
--
"I should not just seek the betterment of the world. I must sacrifice anything to preserve all that is good. That is the way of the Light."
And it begins. A single needle, pinprick by pinprick, the blessings, the prayers, the verses of the Light begin to be marked permanently. Skin is pierced until blood is drawn, the silver ether being forced in. Around the left wrist, symbols and words are soon formed.
One day of searing pain out of many to follow.
--
"I should not just seek the betterment of the world. I must sacrifice anything to preserve all that is good. That is the way of the Light."
01-26-2013, 05:58 PM
Another skipped patrol, another fake report.
Norael keeps finding herself reading through ancient texts and tomes, delving back into the rich collection on the workings of the Light. She's read these books before, but never in-depth, and all at once. There is much to learn when one combines all of the teachings. There is so much hidden potential. The Light is not just meant to be used a scarce few ways. It can evolve, be adapted to the situation. If something serves as a conduit, it can become great and powerful. The Light cannot always be called upon with just a spoken prayer. Often it may take an intricate inscription. But the space upon ones weapon is very limited. Ones body, however, can serve as a veritable canvas.
Across her left arm, over her chest and abdomen, the silvery tattoos reach over her body. Each day they spread, little by little.
If the world won't help her, at least she can help the world.
Norael keeps finding herself reading through ancient texts and tomes, delving back into the rich collection on the workings of the Light. She's read these books before, but never in-depth, and all at once. There is much to learn when one combines all of the teachings. There is so much hidden potential. The Light is not just meant to be used a scarce few ways. It can evolve, be adapted to the situation. If something serves as a conduit, it can become great and powerful. The Light cannot always be called upon with just a spoken prayer. Often it may take an intricate inscription. But the space upon ones weapon is very limited. Ones body, however, can serve as a veritable canvas.
Across her left arm, over her chest and abdomen, the silvery tattoos reach over her body. Each day they spread, little by little.
If the world won't help her, at least she can help the world.