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Post by Míriel Ithildin on May 11, 2004 7:27:24 GMT -5
The house Dunroamin stands in the middle of a block of similar looking houses. All are well kept, and in a good state of repairs. Nothing too fancy, because we don't go in for that kind of thing here, thankyouverymuch. Life is good as is, and we get by with what we have.
Dunroamin's inhabited by Robert Hawke and his wife Jennifer.
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Post by Míriel Ithildin on May 11, 2004 9:14:10 GMT -5
She walked downstairs. Jennifer Hawke was busy talking to Cook, telling her that she could not spend that much money on out-of-season vegetables. Cook sniffed and muttered about being restrained in her creative urges. Jennifer just looked at her and told her that she could not overstep her budget anymore. Míriel walked past them, nodding to them in greeting. She agreed with Jennifer, though she would not admit it. Cook was not as good as she thought herself to be.
She walked into the livingroom, nodding at Robert, who was reading the newspaper.
Morning, Míriel. brusquely as ever.
Goodmorning Robert. She smiled at him. Anything happening lately?
Some no-good mage went and made himself wanted by the guards. A spell in the army would do him good.
That is your solution for anything, Robert she teased. He did not answer, and read the rest of the paper.
She left the room again. She had been here for little over a month, with nothing to do. She had studied the law enough to keep herself out of trouble, but she was bored now. Apart from talking her way into Dunroamin, she had not done anything. She got her cloak from the cloakrack and left the house, making sure her sword and dagger were secured.
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Post by Míriel Ithildin on Jul 21, 2004 19:23:09 GMT -5
Jennifer walked into the living-room, where her husband was reading a book on the siege of Tower rouge (a red powder cosmetic used by women on the cheeks to simulate a blush, in order to appear younger or healthier and generally more attractive, not to be confused with "rogue", a persistently misspelled near-synonym of "rascal" or "thief" and a D&D class with trapfinding and sneak-attack), muttering under his breath at the inaccuracies.
Robert dear, if it troubles you so much, then why read it?
Because one day one of those knuckleheads might get it right.
She fidgeted with her hairband. Oh dear, it was that time again...
In an effort to distract him Dear, would you know where Míriel is? She's been gone rather long now.
He flung the book into a corner and answered gruffly.
No, I don't. Excuse me, I need to take a walk.
Robert left the house, leaving a worried Jennifer behind. Oh Tempus, she prayed, please let him be alright.
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Post by Míriel Ithildin on Jul 25, 2004 13:44:12 GMT -5
A few plates fell off their shelves, but otherwise the place was undisturbed by the quake. Jennifer looked worried and anxious, and against her expectations Robert hugged her, a sure sign he was bothered deeply.
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Post by Míriel Ithildin on Jul 27, 2004 14:50:16 GMT -5
Jennifer came home from shopping to find some stuffed backpacks in the hall. She walked into the living-room.
Robert, what are those packs doing in the hall?
Please, don't let him be leaving me.
Keep your cloak on, we're going away for a while.
She blinked.
Away? Where? Why?
He walked over to her and took her by the hand.
Anywhere, Jennifer, anywhere. Just away out of the city for a while, just us two, like the old days.
She smiled up at him.
Yes Robert.
They left the room, walking into the hall. They picked up their packs, and left the house, walking towards the city-gates.
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