The Raphaelite Brotherhood

[Kebab 120]

 

 

The Raphaelite Brotherhood

 

Sigil of The Raphaelite Brotherhood

 

A serendipitous meeting

 

Some call into question the reality of fate, is it mere chance or perhaps the execution of God’s will upon our being? No matter what it is, one serendipitous event soon became the hallmark of your life. It was on the 15th of The Deep Cold, 1542, that you received a letter from a man you’ve yet to identify. The contents of the letter directed you to a small, weathered building in the suburbs of Riga which you entered with a fervent curiosity, despite your apparent suspicions.

 

A frail man of grey hair rests his palette atop a rich mahogany end table, his skin wrinkled as its years were long overdue, whilst his posture mimicked that of a dying elk yearning for a final glimpse of God’s beauty that surrounds its being. As you crept deeper into the damp room, the taps of a light drizzle catch your ears, its fragility you likened to that of the seated, old man. Nothing of him suggested even an ounce of life, yet the canvas before him could not be contested by even the mightiest of warriors in its energy. The richness of its color, the fervour of the depicted, the explosiveness of the brushwork.

As you approach the man, naught but one question came to mind- “What is this place?”, you eventually asked. Unable to utter the words he so desperately desired to, he simply pointed to the sign plastered onto the walls. The markings had long faded, yet you were able to decipher but a few words: The Raphaelite Brotherhood.

It finally struck you. The grandeur of the room hidden underneath its veil of dust, all about you were paintings of an age forgotten, some hung along the walls while others simply awaited under the sheets for a keen eye to appreciate its beauty once again. You knew of this group, a revered guild of artists that rose to prominence in the outbreak of war with Urguan. Its name frightening to behold, but its values the envy of saints. For decades was the Guild slandered by the prominent for one reason and one reason alone, the sincerity of its work. Through the arts, the group spoke true of the cruelty faced by the low-born, the devastation felt by those who could barely live, and the futility of war. Its strongest asset was its bane.

 

The works

 

As you wandered about the room, longing to behold the beauty around you in its fullest, a few paintings that hung by the windows allured your sight. The following-

 

Reflection (1576). Self portrait of the Guild’s founder, Hendrick Rembrandt.
Oil paint on canvas. 84cm x 66cm.
 

The Eagle’s Vigil (1543). Painting by Hendrick Rembrandt, depicting the Rigan guard force during the time of war. Oil paint on canvas. 147cm x 181cm.

 

Negligence (1541). Portrait of the Rundstedt family by Johannes Alphenberg.
Oil paint on canvas. 167cm x 172cm.

 

Peasant Girl (1553). Portrait of a young peasant girl by Henry Seymour.

Oil paint on canvas. 84cm x 107cm.

 

The necessity of expression

You return to the man’s side, his body was shivering in the merciless iced east winds that pervaded the room but his arms remained still as he struck the canvas with a dark grey hue. You desired not to interrupt him, but your heart burned with inquisitiveness. Then, without hesitation, a few words escaped your lips, a question- “What is the necessity of expression?”

 

T’was a simple question to the mind of any artist, yet the answer remained unfathomable to you. The necessity of expression. The need for art. It did not occur to you that such a frivolous question could cause great distress as you fidgeted about, awaiting the answer.

 

A single word was muttered by the old man with great difficulty. “T-T-Truth.” he stutters. “Truth?” you thought. “What in God’s name could he even mean?” A sudden realization then came to you. Truth. The clearest expression of one’s emotions, of one’s soul. Truth. To unlock the chains that once strangled you and open yourself to the world, to find the inherent beauty in one’s surroundings, to understand one’s being.

 

As you look back at those five paintings that had first intrigued you, you begin to feel the emotions surge through. The darkness of the self portrait gave you a bitter sense of anguish, enhanced by the emotions of the portrayed. The shadow that loomed about the group of men brought out the idea of futility. It was then that you understood art was not merely to be framed on the walls of an aristocrat’s home, but to be felt as if someone were speaking to you.

 

Art’s importance lies in its honesty. Art is truth.

 

An artist’s obligation

 

You look back to the markings on the wall, reminiscing of what you believed to be the Guild’s past when you made out but a few other words. A motto, you supposed it was- “A people’s expression..”. Such a sentence, you thought, was befitting of the Guild for they were famed amongst the masses as an outlet for their sufferings. They served none but the low-born Orenian masses who lacked the means of expressions that they flourished in. They were obligated through emotion to speak out for the injustices faced by those amongst them.

 

An artist’s specialization

 

While oftentimes do artists venture into various mediums, in search of a style that compliments the artistic integrity of its practitioner, only the immensely experienced choose to specialize, believing in the full merits of their chosen medium in enhancing their ideas. It is this belief that separates the talented from the masterly. The following are but the most common specializations-

 

Painter

 

Perhaps the most prominent of art specializations, the painter commonly uses a palette of brushes to aid his artistic expressions, though knives have rose to prominence in recent times. The painter utilizes the innate power of color to spark emotion whilst allowing his subject matter to create intimacy with his audience.

 

Sculptor

 

A sculptor is called upon to capture the beauty of human physicality in his work, and thereby expressing the anguish in his heart or perhaps the pride of his loyalties. Sculpture has long been a tool for nobility to boast the might of their arms and the beauty of their women, while depicting the sufferings of those who serve them.

Ceramicist

 

Perhaps the least notable of all specializations, the ceramicist plays a cardinal role in the depiction of one’s wealth. His creativity comes primarily from the form of his works, and his skill in the handling of such fragile mediums.

 

Architect

 

The architect’s categorization as an artist is a debatable one, yet his role in sending messages throughout an entire society is unparalleled. History has confirmed the role of buildings in showing political and military might, as well as the modesty of the low-borns. The architect’s role has never simply been to shelter those who ask for it, but also to create an experience that one feels whilst walking through a building.

 

Writer

 

In place of brushes and knives is the infinitesimally complex language that the writer holds at his disposal, and through the manipulation of words, he speaks truth of the reality that has befallen on him and that of his kin. The writer is truth-seeker and a protester. He shall and will not surrender to authority, his artistic and humane integrity is absolute and cannot be undermined by any force. His body shall grow weary, but his mind shall not. He will die with age, but his ideas shall not.
 

Poet

 

Much like the writer, the Poet manipulates words to speak out, words that penetrated even the most pragmatic of defense. His works shall venture across the lands, his ideas shall be ingrained within the minds of peasants as they seek to find a commonplace in this world.

[AGP 3169]

Bertrand comes down with an unexpected and unexplained stomach bug. It keeps him in bed for an entire week!

[Guest The Orenian Company]

The Writers of the OPC support the Guild of St. Tobias.

[CheekyNolan 5420]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.