"My Liege," the scribe announced, bowing low before his Lord. "The northern elves have sent you a gift."
The tall figure, clad in armor, stands and looks down at messenger boy, a miniscule figure next to the massive object covered by a sheet. The boy trembles pulling off the sheet. "It is a washbasin, sire, t-to bathe in..." he says, flinching under the offended glare of the king. "Carved from a singular piece of quartz that has been bathed in the moons light for decades."
YOU ARE READING
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RandomA bundle of blurbs. (from my pinterest comments) Vote for which to expand into full stories! Each of these bits and bobs, odds, and ends was inspired by a pin of a prompt, poem, or picture, so without the pin might make no sense 🥲 But I'm working...
