Percival unceremoniously stepped over the threshold and entered into the Diamond Vault. He'd been in vaults like this, so the Merchant's efforts to be theatrical were wasted on him.
The Vault was like many he'd seen before; a subterranean hall of obsidian and white marble lit by the soft, rhythmic pulsing of mana-crystals infused into the metal plating of the ceiling.
Dozens of obsidian pedestals rose from the floor, each topped with a velvet cushion and shielded by a dome of translucent force.
Within these domes sat the items that caused the high mana density that filled this confined place.
The Merchant walked with a soft, padded gait, his eyes darting toward the heavy gold pouch Percival held with a predatory hunger he could no longer hide.
Every clink of the coins was like a heartbeat to him.
