(ongoing story- open for involvement/investigation)
"Just find it!," the old man shouted, slamming his palm on the table- the effect was surprising considering his seemingly frail form.
"It?", a calm voice asked after the others fled the room, each rushing to start journeys that would spread them across the land like a rumor. The speaker, a matronly woman, leaned back in her chair and smiled softly.
Taking a deep breath at her comment the man unhooked a small mortar and pestle from his apron. Once he returned to his seat he began to crush and grind a complex mixture of herbs and powder. "My apologies, Mother, " he said as he worked, "a mere slip of the tongue."
His previous anger stilled through pure willpower he continued at his usual controlled tone, "But I truly believe that 'it' will lead us to the boy. We have been unable to find him on our own."
The woman gave a nod in agreement and remained silent. Her thoughts turned to the boy as she watched her companion complete his ritual by scraping the mixture into a small obsidian cup and filling it with hot water. He unhooked a small matching spoon and stirred the concoction, "Is the girl ready?"
Rising to go, the woman responded, "I don't send 'my' children into the wild before they are ready." Saying nothing more she left the room, leaving the man alone with his thoughts and his slowly cooling tea.
House D'Amavir
"Just find it!," the old man shouted, slamming his palm on the table- the effect was surprising considering his seemingly frail form.
"It?", a calm voice asked after the others fled the room, each rushing to start journeys that would spread them across the land like a rumor. The speaker, a matronly woman, leaned back in her chair and smiled softly.
Taking a deep breath at her comment the man unhooked a small mortar and pestle from his apron. Once he returned to his seat he began to crush and grind a complex mixture of herbs and powder. "My apologies, Mother, " he said as he worked, "a mere slip of the tongue."
His previous anger stilled through pure willpower he continued at his usual controlled tone, "But I truly believe that 'it' will lead us to the boy. We have been unable to find him on our own."
The woman gave a nod in agreement and remained silent. Her thoughts turned to the boy as she watched her companion complete his ritual by scraping the mixture into a small obsidian cup and filling it with hot water. He unhooked a small matching spoon and stirred the concoction, "Is the girl ready?"
Rising to go, the woman responded, "I don't send 'my' children into the wild before they are ready." Saying nothing more she left the room, leaving the man alone with his thoughts and his slowly cooling tea.
House D'Amavir
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