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Skyfall Hall, notorious for being one of the rainiest places in Britain. It has been many things in history: from a monastery built on top of a burial mound, to a fortress turned estate. A sanctuary; a residence; an institute.

And yet, throughout its many identities, its inhabitants were always few, down to singular individuals. A forlorn shelter at the edge of civilisation, the border of reality - and with it, a shroud of secrecy enveloping it. An enigmatic veil covers the estate, like the constant, misty rain, that blurs the lines between the normal and the occult, of Skyfall Hall.

Should you ever find yourself by the border of England and Scotland, where the mist grows thick, and the rain falls heavy from the skies; if you see in the distance, that old house of brick and stone, be not afraid to knock on the door. The librarian is more than happy to accomodate you; a cup of fine tea and some freshly-baked biscuits in the lounge, a game of chess or a book to read by the fireplace, and the warmest bed ever imaginable to weather the stormy night.

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Welcome to my profile! My name is Raine Merryweather, and I am, in the broadest sense, a student of knowledge, a jack of all trades; a scholar at heart, and an academic in mind. Raine is also the name of my fursona, and she is the Baroness of Skyfall Hall, a mansion of mystery and magic, with collections of literature, art, and artifacts, all ranging from mundane, occult, scientific, esoteric, and fictional where applicable.

My plan for this account is primarily to gather art I find enjoyable, as well as commissioning artists whenever my economy permits it. On very rare occasions might I post some of my own works here, but it is highly unlikely; most of these will be commissioned works that I am permitted to repost.

Thanks for stopping by!

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P.S.: My favourite quote, because it doesn't fit in the sidebar is:
"[...] that the perusal of all excellent books is, as it were, to interview with the noblest men of past ages, who have written them, and even a studied interview, in which are discovered to us only their choicest thoughts [...]" - René Descartes, Discourse on the Method (transl. John Veitch).