Nimble alabaster fingers coaxed the silk threaded needle meticulously through the brushed cotton, painting in strands a tapestry in a myriad of shades and hues. Humming the melody from some old song, perched upon the window sill of her marble tower did she work upon her embroidery. A bright sunbeam caressing her golden tresses and illuminating the room before her. The room was cluttered with crafts of all kinds in varying stages of completeness. From the wooden loom to the muddy potter's wheel, to the long reed pipe of glass blowing her chamber was filled with devices of creation.

Glass baubles in vibrants shades of blue, green and red suspended on strands of silver fishing line sparkled and twirled in the mid morning light. An unfinished blade rested upon the polished table awaiting her return to her forge to complete its creation. Piles of pottery filled the corners, a piece of marble with the visage of a man partially chiseled peeked out from beneath a muslin sheet. Creation was her passion and everything about her illustrated this. Dainty fingers sliding a needle in odd contrast to the muscular arms that brought hammer to metal in the smithy.

With a deep chuckle she placed her tapestry down and rose gracefully from her seat and strode purposefully across the room to her cluttered desk. A thick leather bound ledger lay open upon its surface listing names in elegant script. Each page headed with the word 'Merchants' and filled with alphabetical listings of people and the preferred wares of their trade. Her finger searched a few pages until its fingertip paused and tapped the listing: Trycner Brelen_______Vender of Sculpture.

With a slight nod to herself as if in reminder, she hastily wrote a quick note and folded it and then affixed her seal of amber wax. With a firm tug on the bell pull she summoned a servant, and placed the missive on his polished brass tray.

"See that this is delivered promptly," she said with a nod.

Scurrying forth upon his mission, the servant vanished down the spiral iron ladder. With a sigh she glanced at her previous seat in the sunlight and her piece of tapestry and turned and pulled back the cloth from the marble. Reaching for a chisel and a sturdy mallet, she began to shape the features of the man. The sound of her hammer falls mingling with the lark songs beyond the walls of her abode in a strange but soothing duet.