“Put it over there,” instructs Hineni, pointing towards the side of the restaurant seating area, at the empty space between the front desk and the adjacent wall. The man nods, waving over his two employees, a pair of orcs, who come inside carrying a large cabinet. It’s an equipment stand, for adventurers who enter their guild and want to leave some of their more cumbersome gear by the front desk, rather than lugging it to their tables or rooms.

“It’s really taking up shape,” says Sockel, sitting behind the front-desk. She’s started to really nest herself in there, behind the counter. As for the arrangement of books and ledgers that used to be there, the older ones are now placed into her bedroom. From the extra spending money that Hineni had given her with the wish that she buys herself something nice, the elf had bought an expensive shelving system for her own room, that she’s keeping all of the old financial information in.

Of course, on hearing this, Hineni tells her that he really wanted her to buy something for herself, like a rug or a new mattress or something decorative and not something work related.

Sockel stares at him for a moment. “Huh?” she leans in, her ears twitching. “It is something for me,” she says, sounding almost unsure as to what he’s implying.

Hineni raises an eyebrow. “A shelf in your bedroom full of your employer’s old ledgers, tax documents and bank-statements is a ‘thing for yourself’?” he asks.

Sockel sighs, shaking her head. The ground shakes as the men set the massive cabinet down. “A city boy like you just wouldn’t get it,” she says, waving him off as she slides over the top of the front desk onto her chair, on the other side of it, landing and leaning back in one, clean, coherent motion. “Down in the south, we don’t really have much numbers-stuff,” explains Sockel, shrugging. “So I think it’s super interesting now.”

“Huh…” says Hineni, thinking. No numbers? Those kooky elves in the south sure are an odd bunch. “How do you handle stores?”

“Stores?” she asks. “Oh, we mostly barter, you know?”

Hineni nods. Interesting. He turns to look back over the hall. Three days have come to pass since the work has started on the house and a significant chunk of it is done already. The worst offenders have been fixed, the beams readjusted, the tables polished. The rooms upstairs, while not entirely refurbished, have been intricately cleaned and the mattresses and linens at least have been replaced and Rhine should be upstairs changing the last of the bedding this very second.

As for their plan of operations, they’re going to be opening the guild in general to the public very soon. Beds will be for rent at the standard rate. Of the nine rooms they have, one is his and Obscura’s, one is Sockel’s and one is Rhine’s, which means they have six rooms left to rent out to customers. The attic is staying closed off for now, until he makes up his mind about it.

For this lower income neighborhood, a fair price has to, of course, be established. One that is reasonable, but also profitable, but most importantly, competitive enough to give the frogs a good kick where it hurts.

Hineni heads upstairs, checking out the progress.

“How does it look?” he asks, before coming around the corner to the door. He can feel the wind pushing through the hallway, as evidence of Obscura being busy at work dusting. The man peeks into the first room that they have for rent. Rhine is changing the sheets, his hair is frizzy and strewn all around his face from the wind that he seems to have been surrounded by now for a while, as he worked.

“Majestic!” hoots Obscura, sitting on the chair behind Rhine in the form of a small owl. “Grace! Shelter!” squawks the deity. “Many will come to find warmth beneath nurturing Obscura’s shadow,” she hisses.

“This is the last one,” says Rhine, tucking in the before-last corner of the bedsheet. “We already did all of the other rooms.”

“Great work you two,” says Hineni. “You did yours and Sockel’s rooms too?” he asks. He doesn’t need his people getting back problems because they didn’t buy themselves good mattresses.

“Sure did!” replies Rhine. Hineni nods, leaving the two of them to it. They seem to be getting along pretty well these days. Obscura was quick to forgive Rhine and the boy doesn’t seem to be afraid of her anymore, like he once was.

Doing the inspection himself, Hineni walks down the refurbished corridor, checking every room. They’re all perfect, except he can’t help but notice that with every single bedsheet, only three corners are tucked in. The man sighs, going over to do the job himself to tuck in the fourth corner. His hand hovers above the linen.

…Would tucking in this bedsheet, this forth corner, would that be what the frogs want him to do?

He narrows his eyes, thinking about it. The bedsheet is a rectangle, so it has four corners, that’s just the nature of the beast. But in order to properly make the bed, all of the corners have to be tucked in, obviously. They can’t rent beds that are unmade. It’s bad optics for their business and for Obscura’s image as a god. They still need to make a proper introduction for her to the people as well. Sure, there are rumors and mysteries floating around the city, including many long since exacerbated tales, especially since the night of the frogs’ attack on their home. In a way, the rumor-mill is actually helping them. He can barely walk down the street anymore without someone wanting to buy a dagger or a sword from him, just because of the mystique of their image.

But at the same time, a real public ‘reveal’ of Obscura would help a lot of their other image problems, one of which is that the frogs have started rumors that Obscura likes to eat children. That may or may not be true, he doesn’t know. But he feels that it’s bad to dig too deeply into your partner’s past, until they’re ready to talk about it with you.

This rambling series of thoughts leads him back to the sight of his hands, still holding onto the fabric of the bedsheet.

He gasps, realizing. “Of course!” mutters the man to himself. The bedsheet has four corners, but the frogs know that. They’re expecting him to not tuck it in because of that. This was their plan all along. But Hineni isn’t afraid of them. He narrows his eyes and defiantly tucks in the bedsheet’s fourth corner, before then going to the other rooms and doing the same for the other beds there, including Sockel’s and Rhine’s.

He doesn’t snoop, but he can’t help but notice that while Sockel has indeed set herself a small ‘office’ up in the limited space of her own room, that in Rhine’s still plain room sits nothing new, except for two pieces of fabric which hang, draped over the single chair by the desk; a simple scarf, yellow and a small, crooked wizard’s hat.

“I’ve decided that we’re cranking up the forging operation,” says Hineni, his eyes warily looking around at the few handymen and craftsmen who remain in their home. Today is the fourth day of work. “Our image is something I’ve been thinking about all day,” says Hineni. “We need to polish it up and really define it.”

“People already think that we’re kind of spooky,” says Sockel. “I get looks sometimes when I go out to buy groceries.”

“Me too,” says Rhine, raising a hand. “Though that’s normal, for people to be awestruck by RH-MHPF-”

Sockel stops him, putting a hand over his mouth. Hineni knows that the boy never leaves on his own though. He only ever goes outside either together with himself or with Sockel. He assumes that he’s still terrified of the frogs, of his mother.

Hineni nods. “That’s good,” he says. “We’re going to use that more,” explains the man, lifting a hand to grab Obscura’s foot. She’s in the shape of a large owl, sitting on top of the till by the front desk. She hoots, clicking excitedly with her beak as she looks down at his hand that lifts up one of her sharp talons. “Quiet and deadly,” says the man. “That’s the feeling we’re going to be selling as members of the cult of the owl-god. Silent professionals.”

“So we’re focusing on the weapons?” asks Sockel, nodding. “I know some people who will buy right into that look,” she says. “If you want me to spread the word a bit.”

“That’s step one,” says Hineni, nodding to her. “After that, I want us to expand into different kinds of crafting. We can talk about the details later,” he says. “The library, a quest-board and the restaurant come after that. Rooms and baths we can already start offering as soon as we open.”

Rhine lifts his hand. “So what’s with the forge?” he asks. “Are we just gonna do stuff like always then?”

Hineni shakes his head. “Sockel. Put in an order for a display case,” says the man. The elf nods, taking down a note. “Rhine, we’re not going to sell weapons on the street anymore, the people are going to come to us from now on and they’re going to be paying full price for the privilege.”

Rhine nods. “The arrows are ready,” explains the boy. “With the kiln and the molds and everything set up, we can make a bunch of stuff every day just by pouring them full.”

Hineni nods. “Rhine, Sockel, sit down together and make a full list of what we can reasonably produce every day,” says the man. “We need to get our income and expenses jotted down so that we can plan for the future,” he says, looking over the counter and picking up one of the pamphlets that Avarice had made for his bank.

He smiles, looking at the almost childish drawing of a dragon, watching over a mountain of gold.

“Entrepreneurial spirit, huh?” mutters the man to himself, remember Avarice’s words. He sets it down, picking up Obscura. She hoots in surprise. “Let’s get to work people,” says Hineni, walking away with the owl clicking excitedly, nibbling on his fingers.

There’s something that needs to be discussed.

“Hi~ ne~ ni is bewitched, yes?” asks Obscura, having broken free from his grasp. She’s now floating around him in a circle, in her half-human form. The two of them are back in the stone corridor leading towards the forge. “By enchanted Obscura’s beauty, yes?” she asks playfully, pressing a talon against his nose.

“Yes,” replies Hineni, not skipping a beat as he looks into her eyes.

“WHO~!” hoots the owl-god, exploding into a puff of feathers as she flops down to the ground, her flying spell having been broken by her sudden transformation.

Hineni lifts a hand. “But that’s not why we’re back here,” he says, looking around the dark corridor. The small owl, standing down on the floor with her wings spread out flat against the stones, turns her head up his way, clicking excitedly with her beak and hissing. “We’re not just starting an adventurers’ guild,” says Hineni. “We’re going to be collecting worshipers too. That’ll make you stronger, right?” he asks.

The owl flies up into the air, landing on a small rafter in the hallway and looks down towards him. “I get power from Hineni’s claws,” she replies and Hineni nods. It’s of course, obvious by now that she gets a chunk of someone’s soul-points whenever they’re using a weapon blessed by her.

“But,” says Hineni.

“But also from Hineni,” says the owl. “From the river-boy, from the sock-elf, from the crunchy-spider fairy.”

He nods. Gods also get their power from their worshipers themselves. That’s why a lot of gods only collect worshipers to begin with. Some gods, like the god of the forge, just don’t really attract many worshipers, given that their nature is one which doesn’t inspire much awe. They’re just not as romantic an entity to dedicate your entire life to, like a god of war or some such. These other gods make due however by creating items for others to use instead of being worshiped directly.

“- But we’re doing both things,” says Hineni, finishing his summation.

Obscura tilts her head at an angle. “Wise Hineni, he has many eyes, good eyes, strong eyes!” she praises. Obscura holds out a wing. “Many will hold Obscura’s talons.” She holds out her other wing. “Many more will bow at Obscura’s tree.” The owl puffs out her chest. “My might will grow like a small-now-big forest!”

Hineni nods. “That’s the plan,” he affirms and lifts a hand. “But we’re putting our lives at risk here too,” he says. It isn’t just Obscura anymore, though she is the most important to him. But he still has others to keep safe as well. “We need to have a talk about the big-frog,” says Hineni, getting to the point. It’s been long enough.

Obscura narrows her eyes, hissing, pulling her wings and body tightly together, lifting her head up high as she stares at him with paranoid eyes.

“I need to know,” explains the man. “- Everything.”