Theatra was born into a Box Office Troll family. At a young age she ventured out and found a hole of her own to call home. She, like many Box Office Trolls before her, lived in a small dark box office buried beneath the world above. There she demanded a toll for any who journeyed to see the bards tread the boards.
Theatra loved her life. She was, afterall, a creature of habit. Day in, day out, she held out her cold hand requesting gold in exchange for a performance. Many tried to barter cattle or crops, but Theatra had no need for such things. If one could not give a gold coin, then Theatra would recoil her hand and send the traveler on their way. For decades she lived this way and she was happy, collecting a small fortune.
One blindingly sunny day, a tailor came to Theatra’s hole. Theatra held out her hand as she had many times before. But the tailor did not place a coin in her hand for the tailor had no coin to give. Instead, the tailor placed a single spool of thread in her palm. The thread was the most vibrant color Theatra had ever seen. Entranced by it’s splendor, Theatra waved the tailor in.
The next day, the tailor came back again and again Theatra held out her hand expecting another spool of beautiful thread. But this time the tailor set a large piece of fabric in Theatra’s hand. It was light as a feather and soft as lamb’s wool but strong as leather. Theatra, again enthralled by the gift, waved the tailor in.
Several days later, the tailor returned. Theatra held out both hands which trembled in anticipation for another lovely gift. But the only thing the tailor had left to give was a sharp, cold metal needle. As the tailor put the needle in her hands.
Theatra asked what one did with such a small piece of metal and the tailor showed her how to combine needle and thread. With great speed the tailor stitched markings on some fabric he pulled from his pocket. It was art. It was beauty. It was everything.
Theatra, eager to try, snatched the needle from the tailor. But in her swift movement the needle slipped and pierced Theatra’s finger. She cried out in pain and horror and sent the tailor away cursing and banishing him.
Time went on as time does. The tailor never returned.
Over the next couple decades, Theatra found that she didn’t have the same luster for demanding a toll. In fact, she despised it. Word had spread of Theatra and the tailor. Travelers dared not give anything but coin to the troll. Theatra’s small fortune quickly became a large one but it didn’t please her.
Theatra had placed the thread and fabric on a shelf. During her days asking for tolls, the troll found herself stealing glances at the beautiful thread. At night she would gingerly touch the fabric with her long, cold fingers. Theatra felt a growing warmth in her chest everytime she did this.
And, the needle sat there on the shelf too. It glinted in the light and teased her with it’s pleasing, but painful point. She remembered the rush of pain as the needle effortlessly glided through her skin. She also remembered the feeling of joy watching as the tailor had created art so easily and freely. She felt a pit in her tummy.
Theatra the Box Office Troll who had been a creature of habit her whole long life found she no longer wanted this life or this hole or this fortune. There was no joy here. At least, not the kind she yearned for. The joy was this thread and fabric and, oddly enough, the needle.
After many moon cycles, Theatra gathered the thread and fabric and, yes, the needle as well as a satchel of coins and set out for the first time in almost ever in search of the tailor.
As she journeyed, Theatra came upon others who were gifted in the craft, learning what she could from them, trading coin for skill. Though it at times bites her, no longer is she afraid of her needle as it has become an extension of her fingers. Others heard of this crafting troll and would travel to find her; to see her art; to help her. While she has yet to find her tailor, Theatra is becoming more joyous and courageous in her craft. And when she does find the tailor, Theatra will beg his forgiveness and ravish him in coin and thank him for inspiring her.
Theatra was born into a Box Office Troll family during a blood moon. At a middling age she ventured out of her hole in search of a craft to call her own. She, like no other Box Office Troll before her, lived out in a bright, open world. There she gave a toll to any who would teach her the craft.
Theatra loved her life.
|Specialty Practice||I've never done embroidery before. Thought this would be a good opportunity to try. I know there aren't any really difficult/complex stitches happening here, but I did have to watch a couple tutorials to figure out the back stitch and french knot. I plan to add more (maybe flowers?) and then hang it in the bathroom.|