The Plain Facts, Carved
What It Is
Told in the Seanchaí Tradition
The Build Story
The monastic scribes of the west copied their vellum not because the words were going to change but precisely so they would not — the copying was the keeping, and the keeping was the covenant. A page left in the weather for one winter is a page lost; a page copied by candlelight, badly, in a cold stone cell, is a page that crosses centuries. So runs this shelf: every session that mattered, its transcript and its artifacts rolled and laid down while the ink is still warm, with no thought of tidying what the session actually said. Some pages are heroic and some are foolish, and the scribe does not judge — he files both under the same small flame. The moss has learned its way around the shelf by now, and keeps a respectful silence.