“Should I be worried?” asks Hineni, turning his head back towards Sockel. She’s sitting across from him with crossed arms. The bag of papers is on her lap, one of her legs is crossed over the other. She’s leaning back against the rest of the extremely lavish chair. One of many that fill this small room that they’ve been brought to.
Hineni adjusts himself, finding himself sinking down into the large cushions of his seat again, which are beyond generously padded. They’re so full of fluff that it’s actually kind of a pain to sit on them, because one seems to sink so deeply into the padding that they might perhaps think they’re being swallowed by a cloud. Comfortable? Yes. But the sensation of constantly sinking does little to ease his anxiety. In fact, his constant readjustments are only making him more antsy. Sockel is just sitting there, as calmly and collected as ever.
“My experience is that it’s never a good sign when a bank makes an appointment for you,” explains the elf. Hineni sighs. That’s what he had assumed as well.
Avarice…
He’s never met a real god before. Well, apart from Obscura. Avarice isn’t one of the old primordial gods like the god of fire or the goddess of water. But he’s definitely up there on the list. If those two primordial gods are top-tier gods, then Avarice is a second-tier deity. A construct brought to life by the collective imaginations of thousands of people. The wiser, studied men of the magical-academies might name such a thing a ‘tulpa’, explaining that it wasn’t the gods that made men, but rather that men had made the gods. Though this view is hotly debated, by both men and by the gods themselves.
It’s a good thing he had read that book on gods and their oddities which he had found in his library the other day though. That obscure knowledge might really come in useful here.
He adjusts himself in his chair again.
Hineni feels that the primordial gods have just been here forever. They made the place, after all. As for such things like Avarice or the god of the forge, perhaps they really had been thought into existence? It’s hard for him to say.
“Keep that to yourself,” says Sockel, listening to his rambling as she looks around the room that they’re still sitting alone inside of. It’s been about twenty minutes now. Aren’t they supposed to already be late for their ‘appointment’? “Listen. This is serious business. Don’t touch anything. Don’t sign anything. Don’t agree to anything and most importantly, don’t tell anyone anything,” she says, looking his way with a trained gaze.
Hineni hadn’t really expected this response from her. So he just nods, agreeing to her suggestions. He might be an adult himself, but right now, he’s glad to have Sockel here with him. She’s far more capable in these kinds of matters and he can’t help but feel that she is emanating an aura of competence that seems to be missing from someone like himself in this… sterile, pristine and luxurious environment.
Another twenty minutes pass. Hineni adjusts himself in his chair again, but he’s about ready to just give up on the damn thing and to stand for the rest of however long they still have to wait.
A door opens on the side.
“Hineni, chosen of the Owl-God?” asks a man, dressed in a formal, dark purple robe adorned with golden bangles. Hineni nods. “Avarice will see you now,” says the man, gesturing for them to follow him.
The two of them get up, following him down through a hallway. It’s a rather simple construction, but in a sense, it’s extremely extravagant in its simplicity. The floors are exotic marble and the pillars that line the walls are a crystalline stone, a type of rock that is only found in a few mines in the far north-east. It has no discernible magical properties to it, but it’s rare and it looks beautiful and the three mines where its produced are all held by Avarice. So the price and demand are both sky-high for no other reason than that they are.
Hineni lowers his gaze, looking at the odd layer of fog that seems to be forming around their feet as they walk, heading down the long hallway towards a grand, ornate door.
Pulling his shoulders back, Hineni stands straighter and takes his hat from his head, running a hand through is sooty hair to try and straighten it out just a little. He doesn’t feel like he has much success though.
The robed stranger turns around to face them, grabbing the handle of the large, ornate door and bowing as he pulls it open, gesturing through it. In that instant as the door opens, Hineni smells the air, looking over towards Sockel who notices it as well, given the twitch of her ears.
Frogs…
The door opens, a blinding light flashes out towards them from the other side. Both Hineni and Sockel lift their hands, covering their faces until it dies down a second later. Hineni stares blankly, not seeing any possible reason for there to have been such a magical shine at all. It’s as if the door had been enchanted specifically to do that, to give a dramatic entrance to the room ahead. But only for that simple, dumb reason.
They find themselves in a massive, ornate chamber. Though, ‘throne-room’ might perhaps be the better description for it. If the rest of the building was dramatic and large, then this is beyond scope. A white marble floor, streaked with lines of gold, runs from wall to wall.
“- Are there any other arguments?” asks a deep, androgynous voice. Hineni stares ahead of himself, feeling Sockel nudge him with her elbow as she steps inside first. He clears his throat, picking up the pace and walking next to her.
There’s a presence in the air. A pressure. It’s like when Obscura had shown some form of her true self, back when the frogs had attacked his home. The man does his best to stand upright, but he finds it… troublesome. Not that it’s some crushing, intense presence like Obscura’s. This is more like a slight weight. It’s like he’s carrying a somewhat full bag on his shoulders.
“No. That’s our case,” says a familiar voice, belonging to a woman.
Hineni’s eyes have never left the thing in the middle of the room. A… dragon?
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A small dragon, mind you. But that’s a dragon all right. It ‘sits’ on a chair that is entirely out of place in the room. It’s just an old wooden chair. It’s not even nice. It’s just kind of… a chair, up there where one would expect a mountain of gold and rare jewels next to a royal throne. It looks like one that was taken from the street corner of his own neighborhood during a garbage collection day.
As for ‘sitting’ that’s also kind of an over-statement. Really, the creature is laying sideways, draped over it, its front and back hinds dangling down on either side, its long tail wrapped around the legs of the chair. “Huh…” he says to himself. The god of wealth is a dragon? It makes sense, he supposes. They say that dragons are greedy, wealth-hoarding things. The book didn’t mention this though. It seems like an important detail.
Hineni turns his head, staring at the familiar woman there. The frog, the healer who ran away from his house during the attack the other night. Feeling his gaze, she lets out a throaty, ribbiting noise.
The dragon turns their way, staring at them. Its body shifts and changes, turning from the shape of the smaller, but still giant, lizard into that of a dark-elf. “Weaponsmith Hineni,” says the entity. “You’re late.”
Hineni shrugs. “We didn’t get an invitation.”
“It was sent,” says the man, narrowing his eyes. The pressure in the room intensifies. Hineni feels himself having somewhat more difficulty standing upright. The same seems to be true for the frog healer and for Sockel, given their stiffening postures.
“It never arrived,” says Hineni, thinking. “Wait… Oh.” He blinks. He remembers now. A man had come to his home not long after he began his new career as a weaponsmith, a disciple of Avarice. He had been very insistent on Hineni coming along with him…
Hmm… This could be bad. Hineni doesn’t want to offend a god. Perhaps it would be best to just be honest? Who knows if gods can see through lies? Surely the god of wealth, a banker, has a sharp eye for truthfulness? Besides, he had read about Avarice in that book. He likes straight-forward people. He just hopes that what it said was true. Otherwise Sockel will be leaving the bank to go home without him today. The man thinks for a moment, feeling the out of place sensation of the enchanted dagger, resting against his leg.
Hineni shrugs. “I forgot. I told your man to go away. I don’t want to be here.”
Sockel clears her throat, jabbing him sharply with her elbow. Woops. Was that the wrong thing to say? Hineni’s own words ring back to himself as they echo around the obscenely grand hall. This place, just this room, probably costs a fortune. It’s not even decorated, it’s just all marble and gold and that dumb chair.
Actually, no. It’s fine. He stares down at the literal veins of gold that run through the stones of his feet that he’s standing on. It almost makes him feel bad to do so, honestly. Hineni lifts his head, staring at the god, Avarice.
He really doesn’t want to be here though. Why should he bother hiding that? He wants to be at home. He wants to work for his own future. He doesn’t want to waste his precious few hours in a room that smells like frogs, talking to a big lizard in a glorified bank. God or not. This isn’t a place a creature like himself belongs. It’s like a frog being in a snowy tree in the deep forest. It’s just wrong.
Besides, what if he makes himself look stupid? In front of a god? The ghost of his mother would never forgive him for it.
Hineni shrugs. “Don’t waste my time. I’m here for my money. What do you want?”
The frog yelps, covering her head and ducking down beneath the presenter’s podium she was standing behind, making whatever her case was before they got here.
The pressure in the room doesn’t change however. Despite Sockel looking very nervously around them, nothing much seems to happen.
The room is quiet. Man. Hineni really hopes that book was right.
The dark-elf on the throne turns to face the frog healer. “I’m ruling in favor of him,” says the god, pointing with his thumb towards Hineni.
“HUH?!” she jumps up. “Your grace! We’re all in terrible danger!” she argues. “You can’t allow it! Even you are thr-”
Avarice lifts a hand and the woman immediately becomes quiet, croaking quietly beneath her breath.
Hineni looks towards Sockel. A ruling? Was there some kind of… case of law here? Some sort of trial or decision that he was unaware of?
“Hineni, chosen of the owl-god,” says Avarice. The pressure in the room dissipates. Hineni can feel the weight falling from his shoulders. The man on the wooden throne smiles, flicking a coin between his fingers that Hineni is sure wasn’t there only a moment ago. “I like a man who gets to the point. Let’s talk business.”
Hineni exhales in relief, a waft of the smell of owl coming up from the fabric of his yellow scarf.