A D'Amavir by any other name.....

[Dramora]

Dramora unbuckled the sword from her hip and threw it forcefully across the room. It slammed against the wall and clattered to the floor. Her gloves and skullcap quickly followed.

She frantically paced around the small room.

Did Thom actually say that to her?

“That business with Omen was unfortunate.”

Unfortunate???

It was a hell of a lot more than unfortunate. Dramora was damn lucky Omen had simply left her bleeding and unconscious at the Abbey, rather than dead!

And that was due to Gillian, Thom's wife.

And these are the people Aedon wanted her to trust? Not bloody likely any time soon!

She looked around the nearly empty room for something else to throw. Luckily, or not so luckily, she’d moved into the small house only recently, and hadn't had time to purchase furniture yet.

Trying to slow her angry breathing, she flopped down to the floor and pulled the small box she had packed closer to her. Rummaging in the box she pulled out a bit of parchment and started formulating the note she had to send.

Drevyn,

The leaders of the alliance would like to meet with you to discuss Mikael D'Amavir.

Please let me know when would be a good time to meet with us.

Dramora​

She thought about just tearing up the message; one D'Amavir is just as bad as the other, and who knew what he would “charge” for his help?

Plus the fact that the entire D'Amavir clan hated her.

But it was necessary for her alliance to speak with Drevyn and at least rule out requesting his help.

Against her better judgement, she sent for a runner to deliver the message. Hopefully this boy could find that damn island.

Dramora,
Mistress of Virtue,
Guardians of Virtue, GV

 

[D'Amavir]

The sun had just begun to set as the small boat came into view. In the western watchtower the sentry lit a torch to notify those at ground level of its arrival. By the time it reached the rocky shoreline, the boatman and his lone passenger were met by several of the House Guard, as well as a member of the family's inner circle, Octavio.

When the young messenger disembarked, Octavio approached him and spoke, his voice melodic, "You've come a long way through treacherous waters, child. I hope your task is worth the risk."

Set at ease by the older man's singsong voice, the boy held out the letter and replied, "A message, sir. For a Drevyn D'Amavir."

Octavio reached out his hand, "My nephew, Drevyn, is on the mainland, son. But I can assure you that I will deliver this message to him personally. If you allow it, of course."

The boy thought for a moment, then nodded. He handed over the message and turned back toward the small boat. As the two visitors sailed off, Octavio turned away and opened a magical gate opening just outside of the safe house the family used when on the mainland. Within minutes, he stood inside the house with Drevyn as the younger man read the message.

"Looks like your brother has finally pushed the farmers of Yew too far, Oct. They want to meet with me to discuss his escapades." Drevyn said as he finished.

He pulled out a bit a parchment then wrote a response.

Lady Dramora

It would be my great pleasure to meet with you and your allies to discuss this matter.

I will be doing some business in the fine town of Britain over the next week and can make myself available to you during that time when you see fit.

I can receive future correspondence at the Cat's Lair Inn as we arrange an appropriate time to meet.

With Respect,
Drevyn D'Amavir
Advisor to the Elder
House D'Amavir

Turning back to Octavio, he said, "I assume you would like to attend. I will arrange a guard to accompany us in the event they choose to take their anger at Mikael out on us. Until then, we wait."