Welcome to the Sightless Sanctuary



As you enter the large, many-sided room, the first thing you notice is the ceiling, dozens of scalene triangles, each carved from amethyst, forming a magnificent dome overhead. As the dome, which the more geometrically gifted might recognize as half of a disdyakis triacontahedron, refracts the sunlight beaming down through its many facets, the room is bathed in a kaleidoscopic mixture of purples, from the warmest Tyrian and Magenta through the purest amethyst and violet to the coolest byzantium and Indigo.

As you admire the light show provided by the archetecture, A tall, middle-aged man enters. His face is framed with mane and beard of amethyst and he is dressed in robes to match, a rope belt hung with many pouches cinched around a portly figure. In one hand he carries a staff, the shaft of purpleheart, the head an amethyst worthy of any King or Archbishop's scepter. His eyes are closed, but if he were to open them, you would be met with milky orbs of pale lavender, testament to why he is known as the Sightless Scholar. As he approaches, tapping his staff on the ground in front of him, you can see bare feet peeking out from the hem of his robes.

"Welcome," says he in a rich baritone, "to the sightless Sanctuary, curious traveller. Might I ask what brings you here on this fine day?" As he speaks, he gestures with his hands and you notice a couple of hallways leading off from the atrium as well as several large sheets of slate attached to the walls, wrought iron lettering above each indicating what lies that way or what purpose the words upon a given wall serve.

Perhaps you wish to examine the artifacts I craft in my workshop... or maybe you care to share a cup of tea while looking over my writings on various subjects in my study... or maybe you're more interested in the treasures I've gathered in my travels, many of which are stored in the crystal cavern beneath the Sanctuary... or maybe you'd rather stay here in the atrium reading over the postings upon my enchanted slates.

Spreading out his arms with a beatific smile on his face, he concludes his monologue with, "The choice is yours."