Trezlan was drinking his morning coffee alone. The new store location was fairly nice, it had two apartments so he could stop literally living with Valrym, and decent foot traffic even though he didn't necessarily need the foot traffic. It was still nice to see the occasional customer who came in looked over his selection of antiques and pronounced something wrong so that Trezlan could feel superior to everyone. It was something he always liked, and one reason he even opened a store. Not to sell anything, just to talk down to people and then see them leave in a fury that the man behind the counter was rude.
The coffee was good, decent beans from some place that Valrym like to get it. Slightly bitter aftertaste, it was the poison Valrym put in the coffee hoping Trezlan wasn't tasting it. Trezlan was aware of the rouse and thus aware Valrym was trying to kill him, but he liked the idea of the little godling trying to poison him and failing at it. It brought a smile to his face. Much like the confused couple who came in to look at his antiques, but seemingly knew little of antiques or what he sold. It was almost a perfect day.
"He's in trouble again." Valrym emerged, as he tended to do from the back.
"Who is?"
"Your son."
"Oh, well I'm sure he can sort this one out, my first couple cults were hard as well." Valrym looked on in shock.
"They are going to burn him alive."
"So he jumped the learning curve, I remember my first cult like it was yesterday..." Trezlan launched into a story and Valrym wished the poison would work a lot faster than it was, because he was tired of Trezlan's storys and generally being an awful person.
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