Dear account holder,

As requested, we have summarized your total existing balance at: 12,020 Obols.

Thank you.

Avarice.

Hineni rubs his tired eyes, looking at the slip of paper that Sockel had just handed him. It’s after the restaurant’s opening hours and everyone is starting to leave for the day.

Hineni suppresses the urge to whistle and instead sets down the slip of paper, sliding it back towards Sockel.

He nods goodbye to a group of adventurers who are leaving for the day.

They’re doing very well, but there’s no need for any outsiders to know that. It’ll just paint an even bigger target on their back.

Although, that being said, the frogs haven’t let out a peep ever since their third kidnapping of him.

“Looks like we got the first payments from the military,” says Sockel.

Hineni nods. “Looks that way. What do our expenses look like at the moment?” he asks.

Sockel leans back, crossing her arms. She stares towards the ceiling. “About the usual. Nothing major broke in a long time,” she explains, looking over to the side. Rhine sits at a booth, his face resting against the table. It was a long day in the forge for the two of them. Obscura is sitting next to him, picking ash and metal splinters out of his hair. “Why not consider getting an extra hand for the forge?” asks Sockel.

“Huh?!” Rhine sits upright, coming dangerously close to receiving a new scar and not even realizing it. Obscura lifts her talons just in time. “Why don’t we get an extra hand for the desk?!” he asks. “The forge is fine,” argues Rhine.

Sockel points at him. “Dunno, having three workers in the forge sounds right, doesn’t it?” she asks.

Obscura sits upright.

Hineni narrows his eyes, thinking. That is in and of itself a very convincing argument.

Three workers is a good number of people to have in the forge.

“That’s dumb!” argues Rhine. “Then we need a third worker for the kitchen too.”

Hineni’s eyes shift around the room. Rhine has a point too.

Three workers is a good number of people to have in the kitchen.

Sockel spins a finger around. “No, the kitchen already has three people. Eilig counts.”

“Eilig doesn’t count!” argues Rhine. “The ice-cellar isn’t the kitchen,” he says. “Besides, with you and Kleid out here, it’s two people, so you need one more person here.” He smiles a smug smile.

Kleidet walks past, on her way to leave for the day and stops, having heard her name. “Huh?”

Sockel points past him, at Obscura. “She’s usually out here with us, so we’re already three people.”

An equally convincing argument. But Hineni recalls once having a count like this and having thought to himself that Obscura doesn’t count, because she’s the owl-god and not a person. It’s different.

“No. You both have a point,” says Hineni. “The forge, the kitchen and the restaurant all have two people each at the moment,” he says. “The ice-cellar and the library both have one each.”

“That’s eight people. Is eight a good number?”

Hineni shakes his head.

“Um, excuse me,” says Kleidet, lifting a hand. They turn to look at her. “You forgot Irit.”

…’Irit’?

“Oh, right!” says Hineni, hitting his fist into an open palm. “I did forget him.”

Sockel tilts her head. “He kind of blends in to the background eventually.”

A man clears his throat. They all turn to look at Irit, the doorman, who is still standing there.

“- Anyways,” says Sockel, looking back towards Rhine. “That means the restaurant area has three people. So we’re fine.”

“Huh?!” Rhine gets up, pointing at her. “You just said the owl-god counts! That means you have four people!” he says, accusingly.

The legs of Sockel’s chair hit against the floor as she stops leaning back. The room goes quiet.

Four?

This is bad, right?

They can’t have four people working the front area. It will lead to disaster.

Hineni thinks. No… no. Wait. The owl-god doesn’t count. So it’s still three. Sockel is wrong about that.

“Obscura doesn’t count as a normal person,” says Hineni, clarifying the matter.

Obscura clicks with her mouth, before transforming into a small owl. “This is true!” she hoots, flying onto the back of the bench of the boot. She holds out a wing. “Beautiful Obscura can not be compared to her worshipers.”

“Do any of us actually worship you?” asks Sockel, raising an eyebrow. The room grows quiet again. “We all just kind of work here, really.” She lifts a hand, playing with one of her ears. “I mean, I guess we live here too, but…”

“Who~!” hoots the owl. “It seems that her Hineni-man’s ignorance has affected even the sock-elf!” says Obscura. “None will be spared.” The owl leans down, pecking at Rhine to pull a piece of ash out of his hair. “Obscura’s children worship her with their work,” she explains, pulling out a sliver of metal. “Each strike of the loud-hammer and flipping of her paper-books is a prayer said in the name of divine Ob~ scu~ ra~!” she hoots, pulling out another tuft of ash and then dropping it to the floor.

She then flies off, landing on Hineni’s shoulder.

“Anyways… what were we talking about?” asks Rhine. “Oh, yeah! Sockel needs help at the desk.”

“I don’t need help at the desk, twerp,” argues Sockel.

A door opens in the back, behind her. “…I could help?” asks Seltsam.

“Thanks Selty,” says Sockel, looking over her shoulder. “I’m really all good though.”

‘Selty’? Hineni blinks.

A loud buzzing comes from the door to the library and Eilig flies down, pointing an accusing finger at Sockel. “Stay away from my friend, long-ears!” she yells and then slams the library door shut.

Sockel cups her hand by her mouth. “Put on some clothes!”

A crackling fills the room and a wall of ice grows out of the floor, blocking off the door to the library.

“…Anyways,” says Hineni. “Kleidet. Do you need any help or are you managing?”

Kleidet shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

“Any news from them?” asks Hineni.

“No, I haven’t heard a thing since,” she replies.

Hineni nods. “Sockel. You don’t need any help up here?”

Sockel leans back on her chair again. “Nope.”

“Any trouble by the door, Irit?” asks Hineni.

The man by the door just shakes his head.

“Good.” Hineni dusts his hands. “Then it’s all settled.”

Sockel lifts a finger. “What about the forge?”

“We don’t need any help in the forge!” argues Rhine. “Right?” he asks, looking towards Hineni.

Hineni looks at the two of them. It’s true that having an extra, skilled hand in the forge would be a great help in keeping their pace up. He and Rhine are worked to the bone as is and they can certainly afford another salary to pay.

He feels a feathery body rub itself against his face, as he looks at Rhine’s hopeful expression. The boy values the time they spend in the forge together. Or maybe it’s the process of adding value to the world by making useful things that he has found an appreciation for. It’s hard to say which it is. It could likely be both. Hineni doesn’t want to take that from him, after he just found it.

“No. The forge is fine for now. Rhine and I are managing,” he says.

Rhine pumps his fist. “Yes!”

Sockel sighs, rolling her eyes. “Okay. It’s your funeral,” she says. “I guess we have the money to pay for it.”

“We’ll be fine, Sockel!” says Rhine, smugly. “Some of us have a real work ethic.”

“Don’t push your luck,” replies Sockel. “I know where you live.”

“Settle down you two,” says Hineni, looking around the room. “Let’s call it a day, people,” he says, nodding to Kleidet and Irit. “Sorry for the hold-up. Good night.”

Kleidet shakes her head. “Good night,” she says, walking out of the door. Irit follows after her.

Hineni looks around the house. “Who’s on sweeping duty today?” he asks.

Rhine groans. “Can’t we just hire somebody to sweep?”

“We could,” says Sockel. “But they can only sweep every room except for the restaurant, so we don’t have four people working here.”

Hineni sighs.

It’s all so very complicated.

Hineni adjusts his shirt, walking down the long, marble hallway towards a ramshackle hut, nested inside of a grand palace ballroom.

He looks over his shoulder. Sockel is walking with him. He wasn’t allowed to go see Avarice by himself. She was afraid that he’d get tricked into signing some obscure contract. She nods to him, carrying a small box inside of a hand-made tote-bag. He nods back and then knocks on the door.

It rattles very loudly, almost coming loose. A clamour can be heard from inside. As it rattles, Hineni prays that it doesn't fall off of its mismatched hinges, because he's sure he'll have to pay for it, if it does.

“Hello! Come in, come in!” calls Avarice from inside. Hineni opens the door. “Hold on, I’m just finishing up,” he says. “Have a seat. I’ll only be a minute.”

Hineni and Sockel step inside, closing the door behind themselves.

“Avarice,” says Hineni, nodding to the small, red dragon, who is fumbling around by a wooden stove. He opens the metal oven and then breathes a breath of fire inside to ignite it, closing the hatch a second later.

“There,” says Avarice. “Sorry, just getting dinner ready, you know?” he asks. Hineni looks at the pot on the stove. It looks like some kind of stew made out of tubers and beans.

Hineni sits down on the chair he had sat on last time. “We brought you a gift,” he says. Sockel takes a moment longer than one would need to pull out the box of assorted teas from the tote-bag, which they had gotten here last time, and sets it down on to Avarice’s table. “Just something small.”

“Ah! Thank you very much,” says Avarice, delighted. Hineni notes that he doesn’t even look at the gift, but rather, his eyes are on the bag that Sockel carefully folds and sets onto her lap. Gods really are easy to please.

The dragon sits down on his chair, wrapping his tail around it to stop it from wobbling.

“So, you’re here to talk business, yes?”

Hineni nods. “If I came here to do anything else, you’d charge me for it.”

“Time is our most precious commodity, after all,” says Avarice. “Thank you for the timely payments for my prior consultation fees.”

‘Consultation’ is a heck of a word for reading a letter, but Hineni doesn’t mention it. They’re here to stay on good terms, after all. Hence the entire show with the tote-bag. “How are the bank-accounts going?” asks Hineni.

Avarice nods, sitting upright and sniffing around at the tea box.“Good! We’ve received several hundred new accounts since your opening day,” says the dragon. “Not many high-rollers yet, but some of them are really saving up a good nest-egg! Busy-busy.”

Hineni nods. “That’s what I was hoping to hear,” he says. “The wealth is starting to spread around the neighborhood, right?” he asks. “It’s subtle, but you can see it when you walk down the street,” he explains.

“The streets?” asks Avarice. “There haven’t been any reconstructions that I’m aware of,” he says skeptically.

Hineni shakes his head. “There are more flowers in the windows,” he replies. “We’ve seen an increase in food sales too.”

“Interesting,” says Avarice, having managed to open the tea-box. “So what is this about, exactly?”

“The better the neighborhood does, the better we all do, you included,” says Hineni. “That was the whole point of this, right?”

“Yes?” asks Avarice.

“You got the skull?” asks Hineni.

“Ah, yes,” replies Avarice. “At first, we weren’t sure if it was a bold threat or not, honestly,” he explains. “I don’t get a skull in the mail every day, you see.”

Hineni shrugs. “I probably should have sent a letter with it,” he considers. “But here’s what I want your input and help on,” he explains, looking at the god of wealth. “I want to make more than just swords and axes. I want to make things like that, weapons that are beyond the norm.”

Avarice nods. “A good goal for a weaponsmith to have. I suppose you want to sell them?”

Hineni nods. “I want to sell them and I want to use your leverage over the city to reconstruct the neighborhood with the profits,” he explains. “Of course, you’d receive a generous cut of every sale, plus some additional perks.”

Avarice pulls out a tea-sample, smelling it. “Interesting and what kind of reconstructions do you have in mind, exactly?” he asks.

Hineni nods, looking at him. “Two adventurers’ guilds in one neighborhood is too much, don’t you think?” he asks. Hineni narrows his eyes. “— I think it’s time we freed up some old real estate.”