Damascus sat in the dining room of the brownstone that had become the sanctum of the Temoins du Sud, nibbling on a slice of flatbread as she awaited the arrival of her guests. She hadn’t really got to know the other pilgrims on the path of ecstasy, and she wasn’t certain that they’d respond to her invitation; but there were matters to resolve which shouldn’t be put off. In the spirit of keeping things amicable she’d prepared a repast; no one liked discussing important decisions on an empty stomach, the laden dining table was a testament to the petite Asian’s belief in that regard. She knew from experience, though admittedly not extensive experience, that a Shaman’s appetite could rival that of a small family and had prepared accordingly.Sight and Shield
Her familiar, ever present during her culinary endeavours, now stood by the window seemingly watching the cars go by. She sighed and idly thumbed through her copy of the Lex again, which had been considerately delivered by the Mastigos Councilor to the Apostates of her Cabal.
She idly drummed the fingers of her free hand against the table in an attempt to resist reaching for another slice of flatbread in the interim. It didn’t work. Three bottles of wine sat on a side table behind her, a hazard of preparing differently styled dishes was the struggle to match alcohol to food; she reached for the Riesling and poured herself a glass.
“This could be a long night...”
roadnottaken Animus RockBane Teeramus Striker