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« on: April 29, 2017, 10:11:45 pm »
The city was crumbling, its prosperity having fled long ago in a great economic catastrophe. Those who possessed manufacturing capacity had gone to richer pastures, leaving a stagnant pond of poor people to slowly decay over the years. There was tiredness in this town, despair, yet ... a great wellspring of wealth lay hidden just underneath the surface. Not in material gain, but in the connections between those still wealthy and influential in the city. The potential for riches lay dormant, untapped and unseen.
To all but him. But Viktor Drachenseele was no normal man.
Tall, strong of feature and piercing of gaze, with grey hair and eyes, he simply appeared one day to all outside appearances. Nobody who spoke to him could quite place his accent, but all found his voice compelling. Captivating, even, though he appeared to pay little attention to the effect it generated. His eyes were fixed on greater prospects.
He gravitated towards the financial district of the city, the once-towering edifices of economic might inhabited by multicontinental corporations now largely understaffed or in some cases abandoned. Big money was in crime now, now banking. Such a deplorable state of affairs, and one so easy to exploit.
Drachen's Scales seemed to spring out of nowhere. No one could recall where it had come from; it certainly didn't have a place in any registry. No one, however, could deny its sheer efficacy in moneymaking. Whatever the company touched seemed to turn to gold, metaphorically and literally. Though it gained a large portion of its wealth from stock brokering, it did have a hefty interest in the jewelry industry, and looked to be making inroads to that market sector soon. No one could quite figure out how it came about, but as the Scales started rising, soon those looking to join in that wealth journeyed to try to share a piece of it. The CEO, a somewhat mysterious figure, often handled these interviews himself, and while those rejected came away with the impression of an intense, if polite, man, those who were accepted often had an entirely different experience.
Hugo Johnson fancied himself a rational man, who wasn't swayed by any sentiment of the supernatural and wasn't afraid of ghosts. He was a mid-ranking executive at Bergensen Inc, a relatively piddling insurance company. He made a fair paycheck each year, and on the whole his life tended towards the mundane.
On days like this, however, Hugo sometimes briefly reconsidered his views on what was mundane and not. He shivered in the chilly air of the Drachen's Scales building. He wasn't sure what it was, but something about the design of this place made him think of caves. He walked forward, his shoes echoing quietly on the marbled floor as he walked towards the elevator at the end of the tall entrance hall. Pressing the call button, he rubbed his arms and glanced quizzically at the dragon insignia clutching a set of scales above the elevator itself. Was it just him, or was the air slightly warmer? He shook it off as the elevator opened, stepping in and quietly hoping that this meeting went well. Bergensen was okay, but he'd seen the way the wind was blowing, and if he was lucky he could get in early on this enterprise.
Hugo loosened his collar when he reached the top floor - the air was definitely hotter now than on the ground, and he almost thought he could smell sulfur. Wiping his forehead, he dismissed it and walked into the office leading from the elevator.
The man who met him midway was ... more than he'd expected. Viktor Drachenseele was tall, unnervingly so, and possessed of strong, angular features. His silvery hair was pulled back tightly from his face, and his body was well-built under his slate grey suit. His steely eyes gleamed from under hawkish eyebrows as he stuck a broad hand out to shake. "Excellent, excellent," he spoke, oddly enough with no accent considering his place of birth. "A pleasure to have you here, Hugo, truly." His handshake was firm and strong. "Please, sit."
Hugo sat before he could think about it, his legs responding to the man's voice. "Yes," he said. "Ahem. I'm sure you've read my resume, but just allow me to explain to you why I think I'd be an asset to-"
Viktor held up a finger and Hugo stopped speaking immediately, obeying some unseen compulsion. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, Hugo," he said, "But I will not require an explanation of your capabilities - I have already decided to hire you, on one condition, which is to indulge me and let me speak uninterrupted for a few minutes, without doubts, reservations, or judgement as to what you may hear. Do you agree?"
Hugo nodded hesitantly, and as Viktor began to speak in earnest, his voice seemed to become layered and melodious, resonating deep within Hugo's skull. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. And as he listened to Viktor speak, he gradually lost his train of thought. What had he come here for? He couldn't remember. Drachenseele's eyes were shining like bloody diamonds, sharp light exuding out from within his skull. He could not look away.
He was brought further and further under the man's thrall as his serpentine voice spoke, the thrumming tones reverberating into his soul. Drachenseele was Master. Master was All. His Will Be Done.
"Yes," Drachenseele hissed. "Very good, my thrall. You will execute my will as I command it. Now you are part of my innermost devoted, the sentinels of my wealth. You'd kill yourself for me if I asked, wouldn't you?"
Hugo nodded. There was no question. Master was All.
"Good. There is no need for that, however. There is much to accomplish before the day is out. I must assemble a proper hoard before I may truly be comfortable in this city."
Full Act: Viktor creates Drachen's Scales, an all-purpose corporation for him to accrue wealth in, and guides it to success via a combination of supernaturally good business management and turning all the high-ranking employees into devoted thralls to his will, part of a cult called the Gilded Scales.
