
Berrod sat in Caleb’s office behind the Agron’s desk, begrudgingly framed by the large portrait of the Gridanian Seedseer in the background. He admired the twins’ patriotism, but for the life of him could not understand why even the office had to be loaded with Twin Adder miscellany. The Highlander found himself experiencing a smear of envy; his own homeland and heritage was too diluted to show much more of than a faded banner or two. Aside from that, it was difficult to be patriotic to a place he barely knew – no matter how much he wanted to be. He suddenly became aware that he was mired in distracting thoughts, and shook his head with a grunt. There was a task at hand.
He’d been sitting there for over a bell, freshly bathed and placed snugly in a pair of Caden’s shorts. Several sheets and rolls of parchment were scattered on the desk before him; some hand-written, some having been printed by press. They all contained the same sort of information; spaces for rent. The rates were not all unreasonable, but were still steep enough for him to be concerned with the amount of gil they would be pulling from the family coffers. Berrod had spent most of his time seated bouncing back and forth between the idea of using one of the properties listed, or just using their own basement – or perhaps his company room. The latter would prove to be a bit of an awkward affair, since he had offered it for use as a guest room. Still, he needed some sort of indoor training space.
A shadow in the corner of his eye caught the redhead’s attention. Sarij was up and about. He gave a slight wave at the still sleepy-looking Sea Wolf and indicated, “There’s bread’n ham on the table downstairs.â€
That information seemed to be enough for the other, who shuffled down with a grunt of thanks. It wasn’t long before the identical Agrons came shambling behind, their own scowls and squints of grogginess firmly set. It entertained Berrod greatly – he was the only real morning person in the house. As he had done with Sarij, the Highlander pointed them in the direction of sustenance.
It only took a moment or two after they had all gone down for Berrod to get to his feet and follow. Training space arrangements were important, yes – but right then, family and food awaited.
He’d been sitting there for over a bell, freshly bathed and placed snugly in a pair of Caden’s shorts. Several sheets and rolls of parchment were scattered on the desk before him; some hand-written, some having been printed by press. They all contained the same sort of information; spaces for rent. The rates were not all unreasonable, but were still steep enough for him to be concerned with the amount of gil they would be pulling from the family coffers. Berrod had spent most of his time seated bouncing back and forth between the idea of using one of the properties listed, or just using their own basement – or perhaps his company room. The latter would prove to be a bit of an awkward affair, since he had offered it for use as a guest room. Still, he needed some sort of indoor training space.
A shadow in the corner of his eye caught the redhead’s attention. Sarij was up and about. He gave a slight wave at the still sleepy-looking Sea Wolf and indicated, “There’s bread’n ham on the table downstairs.â€
That information seemed to be enough for the other, who shuffled down with a grunt of thanks. It wasn’t long before the identical Agrons came shambling behind, their own scowls and squints of grogginess firmly set. It entertained Berrod greatly – he was the only real morning person in the house. As he had done with Sarij, the Highlander pointed them in the direction of sustenance.
It only took a moment or two after they had all gone down for Berrod to get to his feet and follow. Training space arrangements were important, yes – but right then, family and food awaited.
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