Side Story 113.2 - Urgent Bee-siness
A man stepped into the Sacred Den, immediately assaulted by a rise in temperature so sudden it felt like being hit by a solid wall. A stone causeway stretched across the center of a stone-walled room with two rivers of lava flowing to either side. The man tried not to grimace as noxious fumes rose from the rivers and assaulted his nose, his powerful sense of smell a severe detriment at that moment.
The man himself was unfortunately dressed for the occasion, wearing a suit of chainmail. The metal began to heat up almost immediately, only his thin tunic underneath saving him from vicious burns. Even still, any contact between his limbs and the armor would definitely leave a mark. But the multiple layers also caused him to cook within his own clothing. He was already sweating something fierce and had the fight the urge to let out his tongue and begin panting. Additionally, the fur on his arms and legs did not help matters, and the fur on his bushy tail was already drooping. Not for the first time, his wolf-like features had come back to haunt him.
But the sooner he moved, the sooner he could leave, so he pressed onward. He walked past the gigantic bonfire crackling before the banner of the God of Fire, taking a moment to bow at the Shrine of Fire before continuing onward. He turned to the left and stopped before a double door, flanked on either side by other wolfkin like himself. These, however, were not clad in chainmail but in obsidian-black plate armor with visored helmets with triangular protrusions for their ears. And, despite being far more heavily clad than himself, they did not give any sign that the heat bothered them in any way. He was not a little envious of those who had been blessed by the God of Fire.
He gave his name and then one of the guards stepped inside. A moment later, they returned.
“Wait here.”
He held back a frown. Waiting next to a divine bonfire and two rivers of lava was not exactly easy for someone without the God of Fire’s blessing. But that was the point, he knew. One arrived for an audience with the Inferno Empress at her convenience, not their own.
Only after he was completely drenched in sweat did a torch next to the gate light up. One of the guards nodded and opened the door.
“Enter.”
The man gulped and made his way inside. He now walked into a throne room made of pure black obsidian, lit by large trenches of fire that stretched down the center in a pair. Fire wisps danced in and out of the flames, twirling tongues of fire into all sorts of shapes and patterns. Golden suits of armor lined the room holding weapons with bright red blades.