One. Two -

Hineni moves to the left with his left foot, his right foot following after.

- Three -

Then he steps back, his other foot following after. He moves back again towards the right as they move around in a square, always practicing the same movements of the slow waltz.

- Four.

He’s in that place again.

The man stares around himself, gazing at the giant, empty ballroom that he finds himself inside of. It might perhaps be grandly built and a spectacle in and of itself. The ruby red curtains are so long, that they could be draped over full ships of war. The floor, made out of a pristine stone, is so smoothly polished that it seems to capture every single droplet of the essence of the moonlight, which shines in through the tall, stained windows.

One-two-three-four.

Yet, at night, the grandeur of the ballroom seems to be lost. Well, no. It’s not lost, it’s still here, he can still feel it and see it for what it is. Rather, it’s just… subdued. The night has washed over the space, covering it all with a dark tinge, like a black funeral shroud, worn above a white wedding gown.

They move back again to spin another round. Neither of them can dance, they're both kind of awkward, bumbling messes. But that’s what makes it fun to do together. They’re practicing, after all.

It’s still grand in its own way, the room. But it’s a little sad, honestly. The music doesn’t help. It sounds like it doesn’t even belong to this room. It’s like the orchestra is actually playing in another room, that the two of them aren’t invited into and so, the odd couple are here instead, outside of the grand door and dancing in secret, to a mutted, muffled song that isn’t actually meant for their ears.

- Wait.

Hineni remembers the last time this happened. The odd dreamlike daze that has befallen him fades, as his mind clears up. He looks down at the head, held against his chest as they waltz.

Her skin is sickly, carrying a tone indistinguishable from the moonlit marble floors, shining through the green stained-glass. Her pace is a little off with his. A hand holds onto his as they move to dance another round. But Hineni freezes, squeezing his grip down in confusion, as he notices that the hand held in his is one finger short of five digits.

Confused, the black-haired creature lifts her gaze, a pair of large, emerald green eyes looking his way.

The big-frog smiles. She looks happy.

“Ribbit.”

Hineni jumps up in bed, sitting straight upright and clutching the sheets as he looks around the room in shocked confusion. Obscura hoots in agitation, surprised at his sudden disturbance once again, but this time she doesn’t fall out of the bed. Instead, she sits upright as well, hissing and clicking with her mouth excitedly as she scans the darkness of their bedroom.

“Sorry,” says Hineni, stretching out a hand and pressing his palm against her chest, he slowly pushes her back down into the bed. “Just a bad dream again.”

She hoots, her tenseness leaving her body. “Hineni dreams of the fire day?” she asks, squishing herself down into the mattress, his hand still on her front. Hineni stares for a moment, trying to figure out what his move here should be. It’s true that their relationship is close, but it also has many secrets. Then again, Obscura has never failed to answer any question that he had asked, even if her answers were often vague. But does he tell her that he’s dreamt about another woman twice now? A frog, the frog, at that? Are these just dreams? Or are they something more sinister? “Obscura often dreams of her bad night too,” says the owl-god. He feels a pair of taloned hands gripping his and pulling him back down to the mattress.

Hineni lays back down on his back, staring at the ceiling, as Obscura scoots towards him, laying her head on his shoulder. The man’s eyes find a familiar spot in the ceiling, one he had spent many lonesome nights staring at, in a previous life of his.

“There’s a problem,” says Hineni, turning his head to Obscura who stares at him with wide, yellow eyes that shine in the contrasting darkness of their room.

“Do you have breakfast?” yawns the man, shuffling down the hallway.

“Put on some pants,” says Rhine to the customer, pointing at him with a rather blank expression on his face.

The adventurer looks around the hallway. “Huh? Why?”

Rhine points at the door. “You can be as pantsless as you like in your room. But not in the hallway.” He lifts his hand, pointing at a sign of ‘house rules’ that Sockel had made several copies of and hung all over the public areas of the building.

“Huh…” The man seems a bit slow on the uptake and stares at the sign and then Rhine for a moment. “You’re pretty bossy for a girl your age.”

“- WIZARD!” snaps Rhine, lifting his hands. “I’m a guy! I’M RHINE! THE RIVER-WIZARD!” he yells, lifting his hands just in time for Hineni, who had been watching the situation, to intervene, grabbing Rhine’s wrist. The boy freezes stiff.

“Put on some pants,” says Hineni. “Breakfast is downstairs.”

The man shrugs and goes back to his room, yawning as he goes. The smell of alcohol still present on him from the night before.

Hineni waits for the door to close behind the man. “Rhine. No magic in the hallway,” he says, looking down towards the boy, whose face is extremely pale. He thinks for a second and then lets go of his wrist, which he had been tightly grasping. “Sorry,” apologizes Hineni, realizing that he’s likely very sensitive to things like this.

Rhine sighs, his head drooping. “No… I’m sorry,” he says, looking at the floor. The back of his thumb rubs over his lip as he thinks. “The ‘girl’ thing gets to me,” says Rhine, looking up his way. Hineni stares down at him, wondering if he’s going to say anything else to expand on that. But he notices that the expression in the boy’s face isn’t one of contemplation, it’s one of expectation. He’s looking for guidance.

“You’re still young,” says Hineni, nodding to him. “By the time you’re my age, you’ll fill out more,” he explains. He wonders if he should mention Rhine’s hair, that’s something that can be changed. It’s beautiful, sure. But culturally, long hair is seen as a feminine feature here. He decides against it though. The boy shouldn’t have to change his hair if he likes it, just so people treat him differently. Rhine’s facial features take sharply after his mother’s as well. With those things considered, it might really just be a process of just waiting for a few years, for his body to grow.

“Can I get muscles like yours?” asks Rhine hopefully.

“Muscles?” asks Hineni. He turns his head, looking down at his arm that he himself feels is rather… soft. But maybe he just doesn’t have as much self-confidence as he’d like either. “Keep working hard and eating right and you’ll grow twice as big as me,” replies Hineni. “I didn’t eat much as a kid, you know?”

“Really?” asks Rhine.

Hineni nods, gesturing for Rhine to follow him downstairs, explaining the orphanage situation to him, realizing that he had never told Rhine the story. Though, perhaps he should have, because only as he does so, does he notice that his history, in way, has a strong connection with Rhine’s own.

This seems to help the boy find his balance again and the two of them then leave the stairwell to check in on Sockel.

“Put it over there!” says the elf.

The restaurant area of the guild is currently up and running, but only as a temporary marketing offer by Avarice, in order to help attract their first customers, the god had supplied food and drinks for the celebration and for breakfast. Servants of the god of wealth run around and Hineni finds himself puzzled at the sight. The entire restaurant is full, all of the booths are stocked and a few people are lined up in front of Sockel’s counter. She turns back to the next person in line. “So, you need a repair?”

“Yeah,” replies the woman, setting down her dagger. Hineni recognizes it as one of his own. “Kobold’s got it good.”

Sockel looks it over, setting it to the side and making a receipt for the woman and handing her one of Avarice’s flyers as well. “Great, come back this time next week and we’ll have it ready for you!” Sockel points to the side. “Go ahead and grab some free breakfast. On the house.” The woman nods, looking at her receipt and then walks away, only to be caught mid-step by a swarm of Avarice’s servants who manage to squeeze her in somewhere, bombarding her with a mountain of pamphlets as well.

Hineni moves over with Rhine in tow. The boy gets to work, dragging away a few weapons leaned against the wall. “A week?” asks Hineni, bending down to look at the dagger as the next person comes to the counter. “This is an hour’s work, Sockel,” says Hineni.

The elf looks up his way. “Sure is.”

“So?” asks Hineni.

She points at him. “So, you should go to the forge and get to work.” She raises an eyebrow, sniffing the air as she looks around the room. “…Does something smell like frogs?” asks Sockel, her ears twitching.

Hineni pulls back, looking at the line. “Keep up the good work, Sockel.”

She shrugs. “I expect my payment in money this time,” she calls after him.

“What? Again?” he asks. “The soup was a package-deal,” he replies, laughing as he makes his way to the forge.

“Hey! Excuse me!” says a voice. A hand stops him, someone sitting at his favorite booth, on his spot even. Hineni turns his head. “Is the owl-god around?” asks the stranger, looking around with excited eyes.

“She’ll be down soon,” says Hineni, heading into the forge, not sure if that’s true.

Rhine is hunched over, panting from exhaustion already, after dragging in the latest batch of weapons.

“Rhine…” says Hineni, looking around the forge in bewilderment. “How many pieces of equipment are there here?” he asks.

“I… I don’t know,” replies Rhine, straightening himself out and wiping his forehead on his sleeve. “A lot.”

Hineni’s eyes continue to wander around the forge and he can’t help but notice that that’s true. There are, indeed, a lot. Every wall has something leaned against it. Swords, pikes, lances, axes -

Hineni narrows his eyes.

- maces, pieces of armor and helmets and shields. “We should probably get started right now,” suggests Rhine. “I already lit the furnace.”

Honestly, Hineni wasn’t planning on starting just yet, as he still wanted to get a feel for the guild and to maybe introduce himself to some of the new faces up front. Avarice had told him that he needed to work on establishing a trusted brand. Trust is everything, especially in a low income neighborhood like his. A good reputation can go much further than the value of an Obol.

But, now he understands why Sockel had set the time for the repairs for up to a week. There might be more pieces of equipment in the forge tower than the number of bricks that the structure is built out of.

“What’s first?” he asks.

Rhine looks over towards a list on the table. “Shield,” replies the boy, pointing at a metal kite-shield with a large crack on its front, sitting by the door.

Hineni nods and sets to work. It looks like the forge is going to be running non-stop for a while now and it seems the same can be said for himself too. But it will be good to have some work. Not just some preparation and some round-about efforts intended to get them going, but some real, hard, days long work. Not just for him, but for Rhine as well. They both have some things they need to get their minds away from for a while.

He sets the kite-shield down, looking at it.

- [Kite-Shield] -

- Quality -

High

- Composition -

Steel fastenings(High)

{Cracked}Wooden plate(High)

Steel bolts x 12

{Worn}Leather strap - Quality Effects - +1 to SPELL-DEF

+1 DEF

+1 SPELL DEF

A strong kite-shield that has seen many days. The sturdy steel trim holds together the cracked insides of the shield. ‘Made by Grantfried of the west’ Weight: 1.9kg Durability: 24/24(45) Value: 94 Obols

This looks fixable. The metal is in good shape. The biggest issue is that the crack runs through the center plate, which is just reinforced wood. He’ll either have to get some new wood and cut it into shape, or he can just replace the whole plate with metal. But is that economical? And is that what the customer wants? Maybe they want it to stay wood?

It’s a poor choice, in his opinion, but it’s a high-quality item. Best stay to the original intentions for it as closely as possible.

“Rhine, we need some wood,” says Hineni, knocking on the shield. “Bleak pine.” Rhine nods, running off to their pile of material-wood.

His eyes wander up towards the metal owl, sitting up high on the rafters. But, he can’t help but notice that someone has turned it to face the other way, to look out into the city, rather than down towards him. He doesn’t think that it’s looking away out of anger towards him, as if it were showing him a cold shoulder, rather, he feels like it’s looking out for a danger that walks through the streets. Still, he doesn’t like it. It sounds odd, but he misses the feeling of its eyes falling down onto him. That is why he had made it, after all.

“Hey?” asks Rhine. “The wood?”

Hineni blinks, breaking from his thoughts, grabbing the materials that Rhine has brought as they set to work.

There is danger close. It is far closer than had been expected. The big-frog is here in the city, and it, she, has found them.