ᛗᛖᛁᛋᛏᛖᚱ ᛞᛖᚱ ᛒᚱᛁᛖᚠᛖ
Mysterium Dormum
“No, no, no. Not quite right, just a little extra touch of- hmm” Arthur mumbled quietly to himself as he toiled over his latest project. His desk was littered in ancient transcripts and tombs, odd ingredients, and a few cups of ‘failed attempts’. Realising that he was letting himself become frustrated, Arthur allowed himself a moments rest and fell softly backwards into his vintage leather chesterfield chair. Although old, with worn red leather and the odd stain, the chair was still rather comfortable and was practically Arthur’s second bed. He sat there for a good minute or so, letting his mind drift off and refresh itself, before slowly letting his eyes fall down to his charcoal waistcoat. ”Damn it.” he sighed, spotting a small stain on his clothing. Without thinking twice he grabbed his old wand from his desk and, with a small flick, removed the intrusive liquid from his visage. He didn’t use his old wand very often, but his current experiment required more delicateness that a staff like Namor would allow.
Frustration began to rise in him again, forcing him back to his feet and his brew. Pinches of rare and odd ingredients were grounded and sprinkled into the cup, with flicks of the wand manipulating the way that the components reacted in the mix. It was a precise procedure which left beads of sweat forming on Arthur’s brow. Several more minutes of witchcraft ensued before he was ready to once again try out the latest concoction. Taking the cup by his left hand, Arthur slowly raised it to his mouth. The subtle aromas quickly found their way up his nose and reminded him of hazel and butterscotch; and by extension his childhood. Then the liquid breached the cups edge and poured into his mouth, washing over his tongue. The flavour was smooth and delicate, with hints of nut, spice and something sweet.
”Mmmm. I think I’ve done it.” Arthur beamed, ”I’ve replicated the famous Coffee of the Moon Mountain! Fools thought they could keep their ancient recipe guarded for eternity but they were wrong! Should have ensured their ancestors tombs didn't contain the secrets!” He may have continued his victorious rambling were it not for the beacon calling him and the other regulators to the Map Room; instead he quickly pushed all his notes into a draw, grabbed his staff, and headed to the others.
"Morning everyone" Arthur said with a smile a nod as he entered the room and took a place beside Emory at the table. His face soon dropped though, because as his eyes gazed down towards the map and the dots of the caretakers blood, his previously cheery mood quickly eroded into a more serious one. He knew straight away that the caretaker had been scrying, and he knew how much pain that the poor soul went through each time. His eyes quickly darted around the room, between each young face, looking for the caretaker but he had already left. He would need to check up on him later.