And Yu-Shan Wept
Domus de Sepia
Shortly after my arrival I was able to procure a home just off the Bleached Road. Being in the terrible Southern sun most of the day does much to drive down the price – the wealthy build predominately into the mountain itself. Still, my home is equipped with a lavish suite of basement rooms that escape the dry heat of the day. The seclusion and security these provide are great sources of peace – in pursuing my research and mastery of esoteric lore.
Beyond a place to conduct sorcerous experimentation and store occult treatise – I also call these halls my sleeping chambers. Even in the cool of night I spend a great deal of time under the earth. When the distraction of blinding light and blistering heat abate– they are so quickly replaced by the raucous revelry of the night. Deep in the earth I can gather my wits and work my Art. The upper chamber I leave in large part to my servants. Still, there is seldom a night I do not come up for breath.
Many nights I host small gatherings to discuss Guild business with the other members of the ‘ Lodge of the Gilded Hand ’. I am seen as a bit of an oddity; for It is seldom that a lodge, any lodge, has a sorcerer within its ranks. Still, some few here have rudimentary knowledge of thaumaturgical ritual and it is among this number that I have expressed an openness in taking apprentices. It is also common knowledge that I wish to make a bid for the Guild Council here in Gem, while my skill in the craft is beyond question, some remind me with a friendly air that I must need pay my dues. A seat on the Guild Council would make it much easier to acquire the components my enlightened craft requires – influencing caravan paths and trade manifests. Further, it would give me great traction in drawing the greater eye of the Guild, and therefore all of Creation, upon my work. The way I see it, one can pay dues in years or favors, and I am not inclined to wait.
When I gaze out over the Southern expanse – I see endless promise. In those rare moments that I can take rest, I dream of the lands even further South, of golden stones that sing with their own light and water eternally wed to air. As those currents of Wyld softly pepper my brow in the passing of the moon – I take those infinite possibilities into myself and see that all obstructions are but mist.