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Bastien De Rosieres
Guildmaster / Artist ☆ Artist's Sanctuary Guild
Age: 33 | Height: 6' 2" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 13 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 13 - Luck: 6
Played by: Lancydulac Offline
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Posts: 393

Finally, there was a chance to give a gift.

Bastien's favourite holidays had always been those that involved gift exchanges. He loved to make presents, give them and see (hopefully) delighted smiles. Of course he loved to receive things too, who didn't? But the true joy was in creating something then letting it out into the world, to be adored by someone else who may think of him when they beheld it.

Rexanna was the first to come to mind when he thought of someone to make something for. She had already received and seen several of his paintings, so he wished to do something different. He had asked for clay for the Sanctuary at the market in case a sculptor joined them, but so far no one had. Deciding to dip into the supply, he wet a table in the middle of the guildhall and began to mold the clay.

3D work had never been his speciality, but he had a general talent for the creative; Bastien made a intricately detailed bending tree, each leaf and speck of bark marked out into the clay. Beneath it were two figures - himself, and Rexanna, painting as they had been in the fields on their first date.

It was a cool evening and he left the door open as he worked, the sign on the door as always welcoming anyone to come in if they wished. Creating was usually more fun in groups, after all.

Push back, push back, push back,
With every word and every breath.
What god doesn't give to you,
You've got to go and get for yourself.
Zariah Launceleyn
Age: 25 | Height: 5'7" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 21 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 10
Played by: Grant Offline
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Posts: 681
Be dangerous darling, for the world rises and falls at your feet.
Zariah was not a stranger to the creative. Back in Northaven, she had used her mastery of fire to purify metal ores and created intricate jewelry from them. But it had been a long time since she had used her eye and hands to create. As she walked through the streets, hands shoved in the pockets of her overlong tunic, she glanced towards the new Artist's guild. It was sort of an odd thing she thought - weren't artists usually rather anti-establishment - but figured it was more a decent business decision than anything. If all the artists were in one place, it made it easier to commission work she supposed.

That was when her eye caught on an open door, inside of which a man sat, sculpting something from clay. Curious, she quietly approached, pausing in the doorway to simply observe. Sculpting was never something she had done, but it had always intrigued her. It seemed something one was either very good at, creating realistic and beautiful pieces, or something one was horrible at, turning a lump of clay into a slightly moved around lump of clay. This fellow seemed to be making some sort of scene, and her head tilted slightly to the side. "What are you making?" she said, her face a perfect emotionless mask.

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