A discrete offering to Sylaise

Jorah paused in thought, turning Devante's remark over in his mind before replying. He was transported back the capital's dark, opulent meeting rooms gushing with velvet and embroidery the merchant princes kissed the crow leadership with. He barely noticed up ahead that there were several boulders balanced on top of each other, covered with engravings, but obscured by the growth of moss, lichen, and vines. They were nearly at it.

[color=orange]"It is a task for the new council. They would most likely see it as the crows meddling if we..."[/color] he hesitated, looking at Devante to read his expression.