Legends and Superstitions: The House on Peregrine Lane

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The house on Peregrine Lane was legend. It had been the focal point of countess legends and superstitions. Its stone turret dominated the end of the street, slicing the house in two identical pieces. The entire house was made of stone and covered in unusual purple ivy. To most of the town it a place to stay well away from, but for the Widow Fowler and her two tenants it was home. Alex and Mark ghosted around the side of the house. Mark walked pointedly towards an oblong rock that would have been non-descript to anyone else. But even as he drew near, a symbol started to burn into the lower left hand corner of the stone. . Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, Mark drew a small pendant and held it over the symbol. “Manifestus” The word seemed to echo and ripple through the air and time itself. There was a grinding and grating sound as the stone sunk into the wall and a door shaped space fabricated in front of them. Without a word the two figures slipped in and were enveloped in darkness. When he was young, Mark would run up and down these stone tunnels. There were countless turns and dead ends to keep him happy for hours. Now, he trailed his hand on the sweating walls and breathed in the scent of wet rock with sad nostalgia. So much had happened since then and some days he wished he was still that six year old kid, without a care in the world. A long groaning creak drew Mark from his reverie. Pale candlelight bathed their faces as they entered the East Wing. The East Wing was a series of rooms that had more spells protecting it than the Lamia Council room. It was used for many things, receiving dignitaries and other guests, providing shelter for those in need and concealing what needed hiding. It now held a s... ... middle of paper ... ... shoved one of them into Mark’s chest and strode toward an open chest that spilled over with assorted weapons. “Suit up, we’re leaving.” Alex instructed over his shoulder as he pulled heavy black combat boots over his feet. Mark stepped into his Aegis, tightening the familiar straps and checking the various pockets in his vest for the usual packets of herbs, bits of various stones and metals to use in trade and assorted maps of several worlds. Next came the two throwing knives which he slid into a sheath hidden in either sleeve. Then he slid his Cutlass into the weapon belt around his waist, along with a short sword and Saxe knife. Two more dagger were placed in both boots and two more swords in crossing sheaths across his back. When Mark looked back Alex was just putting the last weapon in his sheath. He looked back at Mark with grim determination. “Time to go.”

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