51st of Ash, 120 AS
It was done, at last. Lyra rested the leather on the stone slab at the center of her lab. It was made of a reddish-brown leather, the feeling slightly rough to the touch and smelled of the oils used to prepare it. It opened to reveal several pockets or sections inside. The largest pockets were used to hold different forms of paper and scroll, while the pockets near the front held compartments for inks, pens and brushes. There were special straps made of the same leather that would hold everything in place, especially those pockets made for carrying vials of inks. When the bag was closed the large flap complete covered all of these compartments and latched with a sturdy metal clasp emblazoned with the symbol of the leatherworker on it. The shoulders trap was thick and strong, and when she wore it on her shoulder it hung just to her hips. The strap could be adjusted as well, a feature Lyra made certain was included.
"I am surprised at the craftsmanship," Lyra whispered as she traced a finger along the fine stitching, "Especially after the difficulties that man gave when I brought him the skin to work with."
She had been suspect about where she had procured the pelt to be used for the leather, though looking at the odd coloring and the state it was in when Lyra handed it over left only a handful of possibilities. The leatherworker had been very persistent at first, but with some time, and more than a little influence, she had managed to move his focus beyond the source of the material.
Her fingers paused on the small gem at the center of the satchels flap. This, too, had been a special request. It was an aetherite dragonshard, of lesser quality, but despite that it glowed faintly with power. At first Lyra had hesitated in including this piece in the design, but ultimately decided it would be of use in the long run. Especially with what she intended the bag to be utilized for.
Turning to her workbench Lyra took a small vial of red tinted ink, as well as a stylus made of bone. The stylus was grey in color, with black lines forming glyphs along its entire surface. At the end of it was a white glowing gem that gave off a faint mist and was cold to the touch. These items Lyra set onto the slab beside the bag, laying the leather satchel flat on the surface before stepping back and eyeing it critically. She had not chosen the materials used in the mag, or the ink and stylus, for just any reason. There was a purpose in mind, a culmination of everything she had prepared previously.
Uncorking the ink Lyra dipped the tip of the bone quill into the liquid. The glyphs glowed read for a moment before the ink was absorbed. Leaning down Lyra began tracing a careful pattern over the leather satchel. As she drew the effects of the blood ink in combination with her stylus began to take affect, the lines shimmering before sinking in and becoming a part of the leather on which it was drawn. That was the purpose of using the Shambler's skin to create the satchel in the first place. Necromancy was a unique form of the archmagics passed down through the generations. It was true that one could use parts and pieces from different creatures to craft works of amazing quality and affect, however... if one were to do the same using parts from the same being there was a unique synergistic affect. The blood was that made the ink, the leather of the satchel and the bone of the quill all came from the same creature. Whats more all were affected by the same soul totem which was used to create the ink and empowered the quill, and the two together now were used to manipulate the leather. If she closed her eyes Lyra could almost here a hum of power between all of the items, as if they were drawn to one another. It was perhaps more poetic than anything substantial, but that was partially what had drawn Lyrielle to the arts of the soul in the first place.
Along the edges of the satchel, as well as straps where the most wear and tear was possible Lyra wove lines of connected bands, pathways that touched and intersected the threads which held the bag together. Under her breath she whispered words of strengthening, pushing the concept into the quill and ink as it set into the leather so that it would reinforce the satchels weakest areas. From these areas Lyra began to move inward, changing the weaving pattern into actual pictographs that appeared at intervals. Circles that connected to form chains within the inner edge of the bag, falling over the flap and wrapping around the entirety of the satchel as if chains were used to hold it closed.
"Contain." the words whispered from her lips, a cloud of smoke beginning to flow and twine around the bag and tracking the path of the pictograph, "Let none enter, keep closed, secure." She ended this series of pictographs on the back of the satchel where the drawn chains came together to form a rounded lock shape with an eye in the center. The lines shimmered and faded as the ink set, and Lyra turned the bag over and opened to the inside.
Along the inner pockets, and over each individual pocket, Lyra created pictographs of preservation, a flower in a box protected from the world and its ravages. She whispered softly as the smoke filled every inch of the leather, suffusing the ink further with purpose as it dried. Each of these pictographs Lyra connected with simple lines which lead out to the clasp on the outside of the bag. Here Lyra ended them at a final pictograph that looked like half of a door. The other half of the pictograph was added on the other clasp, so that when the clasp was in place the door was made whole.
Nodding slowly the smoke began to spin and collect on the front surface of the satchel, where the gem rested. Now Lyra closed her eyes, focusing inward as she dipped her quill once more before continuing. Her strokes were slow and measured, meticulous as she started at the center where the gem rested. She drew lines flowing out from the gem, connecting to what looked to be a larger gem that gave off flowing mist. The symbol of her soul, similar to what was drawn on her soul totem. As the pictograph was complete the soul totem itself seemed to respond, flickering as the ink sunk into the leather. Now Lyra began a new design, one that spiraled out from previous pictograph. Within just a few minutes its visage became apparent. A snake with no eyes, curled around the misty gem. The snake was large enough to take up most of the surface of the satchels flap, so it took only a few more lines to connect to the chain like pathways that ran along beside it.
The end result was a reddish leather satchel covered in chains of ink. On the back of the outside the chains connected to a lock with an eye, and the front there was a snake with no eyes that curled around a misty gem with a lesser dragonshard at its center. Nodding slowly Lyra turned the bag over so that the lock with an eye was facing her. Breathing out slowly she sent a flow of her essence to collect there, whispering words of recognition, remembrance and finality. As she watched the eye almost seemed to blink before the magic settled. Turning so that the snake and gem were visible Lyra flipped her stylus over so that the soul totem was pointed down. She then brought them gem down to touch the surface of the dragonshard. Both totem and shard glowed as the glyph pairs on the bag and her soul totem resonated, recognizing one another.
"When soul and flesh are together, the flesh guards the soul and all it contains." Lyra whispered in an almost crooning voice as she gently pet that satchel, "As in life the flesh guarded the bone, blood and soul, so in death will you do the same. Awaken, infuse and accept this command."
Lyra kept the gem and soul totem together until both began to settle, their glows returning to normal. Smiling Lyra opened the satchel and examined the inside once more. All of the glyphs were set.
"You will serve me well little one." Once more Lyra petted the bag, smiling at it. She felt a sense of pride as she slowly closed and latched it, letting it rest until she needed to call upon its services.
