The-Pseudo-Man

Briar awoke with a start, sitting up fast with a sharp breath. A light ache pained her cheek as though she had fallen asleep at her desk in high school. Something that seemed rather fitting, as now she found herself sitting at a huge, wooden desk. The surface was wide before her, occupied with a few trinkets. A small glass vial, a wilted feather quill, some yellowed parchment paper, and a dusty old spellbook. That’s right…the book. Briar had been exploring Duskvale Manor. She found the book sitting by itself in a broken glass case in the library. Something about it had caught her eye. Old spellbooks and occult texts had always fascinated her, but something about the deep reds and leather-adorned cover had really drawn her in. But after that? Briar’s face scrunched with a strain. She couldn’t remember. So how had she gotten here? It looked like she was in a study of some kind. A warm fire crackled from a fireplace in the center of the wall to her right, two red velvet chairs