Weaponsmith - Chapter 44 (Patreon)

Today is the day.

Hineni sits on the foot of their bed, staring down at the well-trodden boards which lead up towards his place of rest. As his foot taps against the boards, he wonders, how many feet have walked this way? How many people have sat where he now sits? He’s a little nervous, honestly and his mind is running rampant. Are any people actually going to be showing up? If so, how many? Are they going to be overwhelmed with a flood of interested customers? Or even worse, what if nobody shows up at all? What if the frogs have sullied their name too much already to the public?

His foot taps against the boards.

They’re counting on customers to show up, adventurers with loads of equipment that needs to be repaired. They’ve lowered their rates for the beds in order to draw some new customers inside. Repairs, beds and baths are the current model of their finances.

Is it going to be weird to have people here, in this home of theirs? Yes.

His foot taps against the boards again and then, something touches him from behind. The man turns around to gaze over his shoulder, looking at Obscura who has crawled up from her side of the bed behind him. The owl-god wraps her arms around him, pressing her head against his back.
“It will be good,” is all that she says.

Feeling her hands clasped together in front of his body, he plants his hand on top of them, turning back forward. “It already is.”

_____________________________________________________________

“How are we looking?” asks Hineni.
“All good,” replies Sockel, shifting around a stack of papers. “Ledger for the rooms is set-up. Single nights for fifteen Obols a night, baths cost extra. Seventy-five Obols if you book a full week. Baths are included with that one, but not food.”

Hineni thinks for a moment and then nods. “Sounds good to me.” Rhine raises a hand. “Rhine?”

“Who’s going to wash the bath?” asks the boy. The room is quiet for a moment. “You know? It’s gonna get all muddy and stuff,” he says, going on.

The three of them look at each other. Sockel lifts a hand. “As our financial expert, I suggest that Rhine washes the bath.”

“Huh?!” Rhine crosses his arms. “You wash the bath!”

“Can’t,” says Sockel. She nods her head to the counter. “I gotta watch the counter and do the books.”

Rhine crosses his arms. “You spend most of the day sitting there doing nothing!” argues the boy. “I’m helping in the forge.”

“Says you, twerp,” replies Sockel, raising an eyebrow. “You spend more time sitting around than some drunks I know,” she argues. “Besides. Just user your river-magic.”

“Rhine! The river-wizard is not a house-servant!”
She raises an eyebrow. “I’ve seen you sweep a dozen times now.”

“That’s different!”

Hineni sighs, the two of them are devolving into another spout of sorts. He’s going to have to handle this. It’s true that Rhine, with his river-magic, could perhaps be useful in cleaning the bath. But at the same time, it’s going to be a real, full-time, dirty job by the time they’re really running. Dozens of people a day coming in from the dungeon, if not hundreds, will make a real mess and fast. The boy works hard as it is and it seems mean to force him to do it, even if he is the most qualified.

And Sockel does lounge around a fair amount. But she also works hard too and has provided equally real tangible results.

So he’ll have to pick one of them, assuming he won’t have the time to do it himself. The man lifts his eyes towards the windows. It’s pretty noisy outside today. That’s rather surprising, given how terrible and disgusting the weather is.
“- Runt!” barks Sockel, poking her finger against Rhine’s forehead.

Rhine presses his forehead against her finger, pushing her arm back. “Old tree-bat!”
“Obscura will do it,” says a voice from above their head.

Hineni looks up towards the rafters. Obscura sits there, having appeared without being noticed. “Loving Obscura, yes? Homemaker, yes? Hineni will like?” she asks. “He will give her many kisses, yes?”

“Ew,” says Rhine.

“Don’t be rude!” scolds Sockel, flicking his forehead. He lets out an annoyed bark, swiping away her hand.

Hineni shakes his head. “Hineni likes. But we need to build your image up more with the people,” he explains. “We can’t sell the image of a god, but then have you washing the bath during work hou-”

 
*Dhunk**Dhunk*

 
The four of them turn towards the front door, staring at it for a second. Is that a customer? Someone avarice drummed up? Hineni walks up to it, pulling it open and looking outside.
“We’re not open ye -”

A flash of red, a hand comes to rise before him, an open, scaly palm gesturing his way. “I sure hope you are,” says Avarice. “I brought company.”

Hineni stares, not just surprised to see the god of wealth here, but to see him in front of his door in the form of a dragon. Behind him in the street is an old, beyond rickety wooden wagon, not even a carriage. It looks like it’s held together by nothing but the prayers of his worshipers. “…You what?”
He looks around the area. The street is full of people. It isn’t just dozens of people, it’s more than that. This must be everyone from this neighborhood and then a good chunk of the people from the other ones as well. “I told you,” says Avarice. “This is an investment.”

 “I’m not signing a new bank contract,” replies Hineni, pretty sure that the dragon is trying to sell him something again.

“No, but they will,” replies the god, looking over his shoulder towards the counter. The pamphlets Avarice had given them have been neatly distributed all across it for the people coming inside. They weren’t there a second ago. Sockel must have spread them all out in secret while the two of them looked out over the crowd. She saved him again. Avarice would have been offended if they hadn’t laid them out properly. “Let’s make some money, weaponsmith Hineni, chosen of the owl-god,” says Avarice. Perhaps the dragon sees Hineni’s expression as the man looks around the massive crowd, staring expectantly at their door. “Don’t worry. I brought food. Let’s make an introduction, yes?” asks the god.

Hineni straightens himself upright, feeling rather put on the spot. He had a few things prepared, but nothing for a crowd like this and not out here, at his front door. He sighs, stepping forward, the soft breeze pushing through his sooty, black hair. Hineni narrows his eyes, staring around the crowd, looking at every face that he can see, staring his way expectantly. The fact that he doesn’t have either his scarf or his hat on is apparent to him, but it isn’t really an issue anymore.

- Let them think what they want to think. He’s done worrying about that. Hineni walks out through the crowd, climbing onto Avarice’s rickety cart. The deathtrap that it is wobbles as he climbs up onto it. “Welcome, everyone,” says Hineni. “To the reopening of the adventurer’s guild and to the home of the owl-god!” He looks around the crowd, trying to find them. He can smell them in the air. The man narrows his eyes. “If you’re a frog. Leave.” There are a few, clearly confused faces in the crowd. “If you don’t know what that means, you’re fine. So if you want to worship a new, better god, come inside.”

“Frauds!” yells a voice to the side. Hineni turns his head, looking at a group of people, making a ruckus on the edge of the crowd, trying to get in. “It’s a scam! The owl-god is a fake!”

“It’s true!” yells another voice. Hineni narrows his eyes. Frogs… “The owl-god isn’t even real!” The crowd seems to stir a bit, becoming spooked.
“Booo!” yells a voice, coming from a familiar face. The healer-frog, he has seen twice now before. The wind continues to blow.

Hineni plants his boot on the driver’s bench of the cart, pointing out towards them. “You’re going out of business, frogs!” He swipes his arms through the air. “We’re shutting you down!”

“Who~!” agrees a voice floating above him. Obscura hovers in the air, floating upside down. She tilts her head. Whispers move through the crowd, carried from one person to the next.
“She’s flying!” says an excited caster at the front of the cart.

“Owls fly,” explains Hineni. It makes perfect sense.
Obscura twists her talon. The wind rushes, surging in a powerful gust that blasts through the street. The cart rocks, wobbling, people cover their faces, shielding their eyes from the debris and dust and a series of surprised voices ring out. Hineni watches as the several people are lifted up into the air, frogs the lot of them. Obscura flicks her talon out and the people all tumble down the way, rolling down the street.

“Dirty frogs!” she hoots at them. “You will LEAVE Obscura’s nest.” The wind dies down, the people of the crowd look up to her. Obscura’s body shifts as she turns into the form of a gigantic owl. Avarice’s cart creaks and groans, the wood about to give out. The owl sharply turns her head, looking around the crowd. “You will FEEL AWE FOR MIGHTY OBSCURA!” she hoots, holding her wings out wide. “Bow! BOW!”

Hineni looks at her for a second and then shrugs. That’s an impression made for sure. It seems to work, honestly. It’s not every day that you see an owl the size of a small house, after all. “We’re open. But I’m not going to say it again,” he says, jumping off of the cart. “No frogs allowed,” he says, walking back to the door and to Avarice.
“I’ll add the costs for my cart to the bill,” says Avarice.

Hineni looks over towards the dragon. “Send it to my secretary,” says the man. “I don’t handle the financials.”

A stream of interested people run in after him. But not just people with interest, also an array of Avarice’s devotees who have come equipped with food, with drinks and with ample marketing materials for their bank accounts.

Obscura sits up on the rafters, allowing people to walk in and greet her. Some people are there to find out more about her, having heard whispers of the mysterious owl-god for weeks and weeks. Others are there to offer tribute, bringing small token items as offerings; coins, trinkets and shiny baubles. One man in particular approaches, Hineni recognizes him as one of the twenty-seven, who had been given a free talon-dagger. The man opens a cloth sack and holds out the body of a small frog, placing it into the offering bowl.
Obscura clicks excitedly clasping her hands together.

Is it odd to say that he feels jealous about someone else giving her a frog? Maybe.
Actually, looking around the room, Hineni notices a few familiar faces. Most of the twenty-seven are here, in fact.

Sockel is running the counter, already explaining their offerings in a well-rehearsed speech to group of people after group of people. Rhine meanwhile runs back and forth from the reception to the forge, carrying equipment that people are already leaving here to be repaired.

Hineni looks around the room, and by the time he’s finished making a single pass of the full hall, all of the tables and booths are already full of people. He blinks, just to be sure. But he is. Every single spot is full. Avarice’s helpers keep everyone tended to, offering them refreshments that Hineni is sure he will get a bill for later as well.

“By the way,” asks Avarice, walking up to him. “Do you have any ice? My man is sick today.”
Hineni smiles. “I know just the person.”

Okay, so, the guild is full and, just like he had expected, it feels odd. But it doesn’t feel odd in a bad way. He feels excited, giddy, even. It all happened so fast, didn’t it? Before Hineni leaves the room to go to the kitchen, he spares one last glance out of the door, looking down at the street that has emptied entirely, with everyone coming inside.

A single woman stands there, wearing a veil, far off in the distance and stares his way.

“Excuse me!” says one of Avarice’s workers, pushing past him to get to the kitchen. By the time he’s gone, so is the woman at the end of the street. But Hineni continues to stare, the hairs on his neck standing on end.

There was something about her. Something familiar, something significant, something… big…
- The air stinks of frogs.

“The ice?” asks Avarice.

Hineni blinks. “Oh, right!”


________________
Patreon locked my pc out. So I had to post this on my phone. Sorry for the delay x-x Fitting to this chapter number