I was aksed by our local Signet if I wanted to make a scroll for my my lord, Montgomery Josh. This was for the Iron Bog award of the Sable Compass, which is the first level award for skill in the arts & sciences. I jumped at the chance. I knew it had to be something fun, and somewhat bawdy to match his humor.
I was looking for something to match his funny humor. As soon as I saw the exemplar of the dragon with the bycocket - I knew it was perfect!
Progress pics:
This is one with some of the shading done.
I did the calligraphy before doing the large letter since I needed to know where the words would wind up on the page which would determine what letter I would use. I chose to use red ink as the calligraphy in the original was red.
(I don't know why my pictures always look slanted - but the original is not crooked!)
I was extremely happy with the shading in this scroll, especially in the pink/red of the large C as well as the shading and highlighting in the critters. My one thing I would have done different is to leave more space between the ilumination and the calligraphy.
The fabulous Aislinn Chiabach was the wordsmith. We discussed her writing words to match, and she knocked it out of the park:.
Words:
Their Excellencies, Andre l'Eperviere and Genevra d'Angoulême at the Twelfth River Wars in the Fifty Eighth Year of the Society have this to say in regards to the newest recipient of the Sable Compass:
Montgomery Josh at his Desk stood a-filing.
His pen laid by but his forge still aglow.
When to him an East kingdom scribe came a-smiling,
And asked if to work on her scroll he would go.
"Aye," said the wordsmith, and they went off together,
Along to the Iron Bog Scribe's desk they did go.
They stripped to go to it, 'twas hot work and hot weather.
They kindled a scroll and he made the words glow.
For the scrolls, the Scribe said, no good words could come to her.
“My brain for such things was worn out long ago.”
The wordsmith said "Well my brain is in very good order,
And I am now ready, my skill for to show."
Ten times did his pen, by vigorous scribbling,
Come up with ideas in a minute or so,
But as often was written, still hashing and beating,
The words kept on coming, sometimes fast or slow
When the wordsmith rose to go, quoth the scribe full of sorrow:
"Oh, what would I give could my brain do so.
Wordsmith with your pen come hither tomorrow,
But could you use it now for one more scroll ‘ere you go!"
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