Sweenie set her large field pack on the floor next to the kitchen table of their Castleview Hamlet home. Her mother’s kitchen, tucked away in a small suburb of Qeynos, was warm and familiar. Coffee perked on the old stove in the corner of the room.
“It’s good to have you home again,” said Sweenie’s mother with a smile. “If your father had known you were coming I am sure he would be here.”
Sweenie rolled her eyes and sat down at the table.
“If my father knew I was coming the Qeynos guard would be here,” said Sweenie with a smirk.
“Well, you know your father was not pleased when you left the service of Marr” said the elderly female froglok as she crossed to the rough hewn maple table.
She poured dark steaming liquid from the simple brown pitcher into a large mug that was resting on the table. Sweenie picked up the mug, lifted it to her lips and held it here, under her nose for a moment, just inhaling the aroma.
“There is nothing like a good cup of Atonican coffee – thanks mom” said the younger froglok in her high pitched voice.
“He still talks about it.”
“I know” said the younger froglok adding, “…and talks and talks. In fact, talks, to everyone except me.”
“That’s because he was so disappointed…” started the older froglok,
“That’s because he think’s I am a heretic” corrected Sweenie.
“Well, you are – really. Sort of…” stammered Sweenie’s mother
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence mom” interjected Sweenie sarcastically.
“Well the order…” started the older froglok.
Sweenie’s mother had touched a nerve. It was a subject they rarely talked about and with good reason – the conversation rarely dipped below a tremendous ear-shattering din that filled the Toade family home; and far too often at that. She stopped in mid sentence, trying to avert the argument that always ensued when the subject was brought up. She stopped too late…
“Oh here we go again,” retorted Sweenie rolling her eyes, “the order. Would this be the same order that serves Marr in such a strict code of what it laughingly calls ‘justice’ that its motto should be serve Marr – travel Norrath, meet interesting people and kill them?”
A worried look crossed Hannah Toad’s face as she spoke to her daughter. Sitting at the table across from Sweenie she leaned in to her - “Don’t say things like that so loud” she said in a loud hoarse whisper.
In response Sweenie shouted all the louder…
“What, things like,” started Sweenie, then raising her voice, “…THE ONLY THING WE OWE MARR IS A GOOD LAUGH?”
Now it was Hannah’s turn to look a bit agitated.
“Do not mock the creator!”
“Oh, pardon me,” said Sweenie sarcastically, “I forgot. Four hundred years ago Marr was taking a casual stroll through the Innothule Swamp, bored with life in general. Having nothing better to do with himself he decided to create a race of super intelligent frogs. So he waved his magic wand…”
“He did NOT wave a ‘magic wand’” rasped Hanna.
‘Ok, ok” started Sweenie “magic wand, fairy dust…whatever…”
“and we are NOT ‘super intelligent frogs”” retorted Sweenie’s mother.
“Oh, isn’t THAT the truth,” Sweenie shot back at her mother. “At least you couldn’t tell where dad’s concerned.”
“Now wait just a minute young lady…” started Hannah sternly.” That’s not what I meant and you know it. We are not frogs we are frogloks...and your father is not stupid."
“Alright, alright” said Sweenie before things got even hotter, “I take it back. But dad could at least learn to think for himself now and then. He could at least consider questioning authority. The only thing he ever questions is YOU when he wants dinner.”
Hannah stared at her daughter in silence for a moment. Sweenie broke the silence with a low whisper.
"Granddad always says that dad is as dumb as a box of hammers"
"My father..." Hannah started to explain, then stopped. “Your FATHER” said Hannah crossly, “knows his place and you should learn yours.”
“Look can we just drop it?” sighed Sweenie.
“Your father is a loving Froglok…” started Hannah.
“Loving?” cried Sweenie sharply, “He’s about as warm and loving as an Everfrost glacier”
Ignoring the comment Hannah rose from the table. Crossing the room she opened a cupboard, stretching to reach a wood box on the top shelf. She took the box back to the table and set it in front of Sweenie.
“If he didn’t love you, he wouldn’t have wanted you to have these…”
Hannah gingerly moved the contents of the box and set them on the table. There in front of Sweenie spread a string of hand carved stone prayer beads. On one end a symbol to Marr was tied with an ornamental knot. A moment of silence filled the room.
“Put them away” said Sweenie quietly.
“You’re father wanted you to have them…”
“Put them away” said Sweenie even sterner.
“Don’t you know what these are…” started Hannah.
“Yes I know what they are” came the sharp retort from Sweenie.
“…given to your father by the head of the order upon his final vows, 400 years old, said to be…” said Sweenie’s mother sharply, her voice rising with her ire.
“…blessed by Marr himself,” finished Sweenie sarcastically.
“HAS YOUR HEART BECOME THIS HARD?” Shouted Hannah.
“FINE,” yelled Sweenie, “THEY’RE MINE!”
With the suddenness of a flash of lightening Sweenie reached into her field back and brought up a gleaming sword swinging it overhand. The sword slammed into the table, cutting the string of prayer beads in two – scattering the ancient prayer beads across the floor of the kitchen.
Hello there, my name is Julie Whitefeather, a bit about me - I write for www.virginworlds.com, www.onlinegamingradio.com, www.wowchron.com and of course The Older Gamers! when I am not writing I am busy with my duties as a nun in the Sisters of Embracement.
