j- fortify and strike

Awazzi had always been a determined woman. Her words, spoken strongly, were anything but lies, and she was a wise crone, one that Rakharo would never in his right senses turn away when she offered council.

"Indeed, it was you who told me where to go, and I left looking for my daughter's safety. But it seems like that's the one thing Zhavvi didn't want. She's not with us anymore. She betrayed me." Rakharo said with a hard tone in his voice, like a knot was being tied in his throat. He was so angry with his daughter, but at the same time so worried that she might not be safe.

It was no secret that Awazzi hadn't been born in the Dotharan Culture, but anyways whenever she mentioned it everyone went silent all around her, like it was something terrible to say such thing, and still there was no one who knew the ways of the Dotharan better than Awazzi. She had been a true Khaleesi, and it was a relief to have someone that knew the outside world by your side when you were so far from home.

"San athchomari yeraan, Awazzi," he replied, slightly dipping his crown for the woman to see his gratitude. It had been a hard task adjusting to these unknown lands, but with her it would probably -like she said- be less different than Rhaesh Dahaan.

"Let me take you to the circle." he said and turned around to walk towards Rhoa Creek, which slithered all the way to Vaes Aenai, and halfway there was an altar of stones that Rakharo had designated as a sacred place for rituals. Rakharo was not a spiritualist so to speak, but he surely felt the energy that emanated from the roicky formation. It was like Rhoa himself had put it there for Rakharo, it was yet another proof that this place was meant for one with Dotharan blood.