*Discontinued* No Longer

Goblin Greetings

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**Era Damon White

Era paused at the front doors to Gringotts. A faint design carved into the door had caught his attention, seeing as how it wasn't, in fact, a mere design. There were words in Falnock engraved into the silver handle of the ornate door, and they told an interesting tale.

{Trickster goblins of the dark, we know that's what they say, so spin around, knock three times, and the line will fade away.}

Smiling faintly, Era spun on his heel in a smooth, lithe movement, graceful as a choreographed dancer, and raised his fist to knock. Rap, rap, rap! The door made of a light colored wood and glass seemed to melt away, replaced with an open doorframe leading to a faintly lit descending staircase. The gray stone steps made of roughly quarried granite extended farther than his eyes could see, illuminated only by torches set into sconces on the walls.

Having no wish for exercise, he sat cross legged right on the air around him. This was a surprisingly comfortable way to arrange himself, and he drifted sedately down the steps on a steady stream of magic. Why walk when he could float?

On the walls, he saw image after image pass him by, ranging from nature scenes, magical creatures, and what he could only assume were iconic stills painted of goblin history. Similar to Leonardo Da Vinci's The Last Supper, he supposed, except they seemed to be events that had actually happened.

Every once in a while, a quote would be painted calligraphy style in Falnock on a wall between images. He had a little bit of trouble interpreting them sometimes, with calligraphy adding yet more lines to the spiky symbols he'd only learned recently. Most were about power, money, influence, and cunning, and the overall theme appeared to be a ruthless bloodthirsty tone in the quotees' speech patterns.

At the bottom of the steps, there was a small open chamber, perhaps fifteen by fifteen feet? with fourteen doors not including the one open to the staircase. Each door was made of a different wood, with silver patterns winding in a tracery around a stylized number. All the patterns were unique to the different doors, and very beautiful to his untrained eyes.

In the center of the room, a pedestal stood. It came up to Era's knee, presumably due to the rather diminutive stature of goblins. It was rather conspicuous, with it being the only furniture in the room and all. The floor, ceiling, and walls were all bare of decoration, barring, of course, the sconces in the walls and the doors.

He approached the pedestal, once again on foot after disregarding his floating strategy. He peered down at it. A raised lip ran along the edge of the square top which was roughly six inches on each side. 

In the indent formed by the lip, a clear pool of liquid silver rose to an inch below the top. It shone in the sputtering torchlight, shining like a dish of stars in the night sky all bundled together so their magnificence was amplified.

Along the edge of the lip there were words inscribed in Falnock, carved into the rock with deft strokes that Era couldn't help but admire. The engraving was very neat, showing the words easy to read.

{Place your hand above the silver pool, those who refuse, they are a fool. They shall not proceed to where they ought, there journey here was all for naught. You cannot disguise true intent here, to move forward your conscience must be clear. Take from here what was not given free, then the punishment death shall be. Heed the warning, for it is true, pass thief through our gates, death unto you.}

Era hovered his hand a hair's breadth above the silver and waited. A glistening sheen rose from the silver and Era watched as wisps of what appeared to be glittering smoke curled around his hand. He felt a pulse of energy from a clear-auraed source flow through the vaporous substance and watched, fascinated, as the magic took hold.