A is for Amberwyne

When my author first imagined me, I was a short, relatively muscular blonde. A pale blonde, with long, wavy hair, which was almost white, streaked with silver. I was too young for the silver streaks, perhaps they were a legacy from my inhuman ancestry. My ice blue eyes regarded with scorn the patriarchal parts of the world I was forced to travel through. For I was from a matriarchy. I knew better than to trust those men with swords, the government, or anything serious. I was created for a Fantasy Hero roleplaying campaign. Later, my author transplanted me into her own world, her own novel. I was one of several characters, taking part in a fantasy/adventure/mystery in Caerac Keep. She pulled me out of that universe, to reinvent me, to rewrite my entire character, so I’d become the idiot in the blog at inspirationcauldron.blogger.com. The other Amberwyne took my name, along with my author’s attention. I’ve been ignored for so long, it’s a wonder that my author remembers I exist. However, she wouldn’t be writing this, if she didn’t remember me. Perhaps there’s still hope for me. I had a good story, along with my sister and the other characters at Caerac Keep. If only my author would go back to it! (grumbling)


4 thoughts on “A is for Amberwyne

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