It Plucks the Chords

[echo8]

This is the auto-generated OOC topic for the roleplay "It Plucks the Chords"

You may edit this first post as you see fit.

[mr_santa_08]

*sits down* I find myself unable to recall what my prior posts were about. I believe i left off trying to find the bastard that killed my family. I do not know how i will begin the search but i shall never quit untill I do.

Give me a place to start from and ill make it magical
One September night a family had gathered round their hearth and piled it high with the driftwood of mountain-streams, the dry cones of the pine, and the splintered ruins of great trees that had come crashing down the precipice. Up the chimney roared the fire, and brightened the room with its broad blaze. The faces of the father and mother had a sober gladness; the children laughed. The eldest daughter was the image of Happiness at seventeen, and the aged grandmother, who sat knitting in the warmest place, was the image of Happiness grown old. They had found the "herb heart's-ease" in the bleakest spot of all New England. This family were situated in the Notch of the White Hills, where the wind was sharp throughout the year and pitilessly cold in the winter, giving their cottage all its fresh inclemency before it descended on the valley of the Saco. They dwelt in a cold spot and a dangerous one, for a mountain towered above their heads so steep that the stones would often rumble down its sides and startle them at midnight.
-Nathaniel Hawthorne