Good evening to you all,
Here is the transcript, as promised. I read from this directly but sometimes I read over a sentence or add a word to make the story less rigid. However, for reading purpose this will do. I put the transcripts out because I don’t want someone to miss out on a story because ASMR content is not for them. Maybe you don’t understand a sentence I’ve said and you’d like to come here for clarification, or maybe you’d like to translate this to a different language for some reason. Regardless, those are all acceptable reasons and I’m sure there are plenty more, but please don’t use this story for something without permission!
The Journey of Emeline Transcript: Chapter One
Handmade, wooden chimes sing softly in the distance as Emeline settles in the for night. The wood makes a quick commotion and the sparks fly before all is quiet and the warm red heat covers the chill of the night air. Like she had done many nights before, Emeline heaves up her tent under a thick willow tree and sets down the pack she had been carrying all day. Her dress was caked in dirt in and around the edges that weren’t covered by her cloak. Her cloak. The memory of today was fading the later it got and she almost forgot about her encounter in the woods. The cloak was torn at the bottom and that needed to be fixed before tomorrow. Getting up with a grunt, Emeline heads towards the water well and retrieves enough for the night. Heading back to her rest site, Emeline notes the other rest site fire a few hundred paces off. Her soft, curly hair, which had been pinned back all day, lays heavy her back now as she heads for the brook near by. Her dress was hot during the day, but she shivered as she slid off the cotton fabric and set it on an unoccupied rock beside her. Looking left, then right, she dips into the cool water, washing her thick hair, scrubbing her hands and feet, all the while keeping a lookout for any unwanted visitors.
The dusty air of the previous hot day had not spoiled her clothes so it was best to just shake them off and hang them to air. This was better than hand washing them and hoping her dress, tunic, and cloak would be dry by morning. It was also safer to stay by the fire at night. Creatures unknown were oftentimes hunting and without proper appliances, danger could be near. Emeline liked traveling at night, though. The air was cooler and the evenings were quiet. Though her rest site was a few paces away from the towns perimeter, she could frequently hear the laughter from the pub full of drunkards and the sweet after smell of bread and meat pies that had been eaten by the families in their warm houses at their wooden tables. She hadn’t traveled by night for quite some time. There had been a season Awakening and she knew better than to stray far from her fire without her longbow. Her father had taught her how to hunt with it. He even crafted it from part of a special elm tree. It was the last piece she had with her to remember him by. That and her Box of Recollection, but she couldn’t bear to open it for some time.
Her thoughts drifted back to meat pies and her stomach grumbled and Emeline shook the thoughts away. From her pack she pulled out a small, tin kettle, which she filled with the water from the well. The water boiled and fussed as it drew more heat. Once the water was hot enough Emeline pulled out of her pack a small cloth sack full of tea leaves she had found in one of the markets she passed through earlier that day. Placing in the tea and cloth sack into the tin kettle, she stirred the parcel around and then scooped it back out, removing the soaked leaves from its cloth. In another cloth bag were four dark red raspberries she had found in the forest and she popped those into the water and let them heat and release their flavors into the hot tea. Emeline empty the tea into a kiln heated cup she had carried with her all journey. The tea warmed her throat as it went down and she felt more at home.
After a dinner of fish and old bread she started to tuck in for the night. Tomorrow she was leaving Low Ground and heading for the mountains. With the light from the fire dimming low, Emeline sat against the chilled trunk of the Willow tree, with her thick wool cloak in hand. Through and over she began to repair the tear at the bottom of the fabric. She had gotten it stuck between the jaws of an unpleasant Beasthound. The needle and thread would hold the cloak edge together until she got to the other side of the mountains and to another marketplace.
Emeline finished the tea and covered her fish bones underneath some loose sand from the brook shore. The nights were long but tomorrow was nearing. Tucked away in her tent, she listened to the soft, wooden windchimes rustling in the breeze, and thought of home, wherever that was now.
Stay tuned for Chapter Two!