THE BRONZE TALISMAN

Molten metal, scavenged from the bowels of the earth, born of feverish sweat of the brow.



Copper, mingled with tin, then joined by subtle craft.



Intent conjured.



Fired and forged by practiced fingers.



Molded to suit both mind and spirit.



Polished to a flickering sheen; in preparation for the patina. Fiery, shadowy, cold, and dark.



Inscribed and enchanted, rune-scripted, dark mystery imbued with a mystical light.

Death turned to life, impassive to immortal.



A binding, a setting, a holy signet, fused in ferocious passion.



A secret reminder; a glaring enigma, hidden in plain sight.



Bound by oath. Born of fire. Life couched amidst death, a mysterious and dark resurrection.



Hope crafted in despair, courage forged of failure. A portal to life, for use by the dead.



On the covenant finger worn, cast sparingly, never to fail its bearer.



Called upon in life, and in death, forever summoning the wise and restless spirit of Solomon.

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