Greed Knows No Depths (Zonkes)

Sitting in the throne room, Dagon surveyed the layout of his home. The Children had done well for themselves with only slight nudges from him here and there. They had managed to domesticated a species of shrimp and collected them in bubbles of hardened hardened plastics that had floated down to their domain. The ranchers milled about the palace, delivering his and the royal meal.

Dagon enjoyed the milling about of his people. He smiled happily, and was content. The people were simple down here, they didn’t have the intelligence of mammals or cephalopods, but they were learning. And indeed, Dagon believed they were happier for it.

Dagon, Dagon, Dagon. He shot up, skin bristling as an unknown feeling spread across his skin. The name that the surface dwellers called him? Here? He was curious now. He had adopted the name of Dagon into his own persona, but only the youngest generation called him that.

Dagon, Dagon, Dagon. It was almost taunting him now. Pulsing from a specific area. There was panic amongst his people now, it was calling him. He swam from the palace, leaving behind burning bubbles, urging for his people to stay calm with telepathic command.

Soon, Dagon had arrived at the origin of the voice. His people were all fighting over it, as though it were a piece of meat and they had reverted to their primal ways. Dagon sent a message to them, warning them to stop this madness. When it didn’t work right away, Dagon stepped between them and knocked the one closest to the box cold. Dagon reached down and picked up the box. Examining it, the monarch lifted the latch carefully; finding inside… an actual piece of meat. But one that he recognized. It was one of the surface world polluters. He had caused a massive oil spill that killed much of the sea life, and even a couple of his children.

The note attached to the head was interesting to say the least, but when it came to the invitation, Dagon was skeptical. It had seemed that whoever this was had gone out of their way to make him feel comfortable. Dagon, after considering for a brief period of time, nodded.


After a few minutes of organizing his forces accordingly; Dagon made his way to the island
”Greetings, surface dweller. You have worked rather hard to get my attention.” Dagon sat down across from the man. ”So. Let’s talk.”

Dagon examined his surroundings further, the island seemed... different. He expected to find a larger surplus of water on the island. It was then that Dagon realized, it wasn't the water that was without water; but the bodies of the humans around him. Dagon had to admit, the man had done his research.

The man - who Dagon had noticed was yet to introduce himself - waved a servant over. The man asked if Dagon wanted anything; and Dagon frowned. "I'm afraid that what I want, is nothing your servant could possibly hope to fetch me." Dagon said with an air of annoyance. "I wish to know why I was asked to come here. I wish to know exactly who it is I am speaking to. And I especially wish to know exactly how you know of my kingdom and I." Dagon stood from his chair suddenly, but not threateningly. Assertively perhaps; but not aggressively. "In short, surface dweller; I want answers.".

Dagon returned to his seat after spitting out his words. Dagon did not enjoy having his time wasted, and every moment he was here; was another moment where he couldn't ensure his peoples safety in the oceans. The man had given him a reason to appear before him; but had yet to show any real proof that he could even come close to helping him.

The Trench Dweller demanded answers. It wasn’t an unreasonable request, but the manner in which he placed it was...unpleasant. For a brief moment, The God of Greed considered refusing to comply. He was not, had never been, and had no intention today of becoming, anyone’s subordinate. That included the aquatic king. However, The Mammon had power. Not the ability to procure flames from his fingertips or to purge poison with his palms, but real power. The kind that few are able to attain in life, clawing their way to the throne and leaving in their wake a path of bloodshed and regret. Even fewer are those who are born with this kind of power, handed to them alongside armies and riches accumulated by their ancestors. And then there were those such as The Mammon that were granted power by their very existence and yet still craved, and consequently acquired, more. Maximilian Blackwell was a powerful man. He knew that, and those around him that did not know so were usually quick to learn. As such, he did not need to exert his dominance here, nor lose his temper. Strength is Silent.

“You were asked here today because of your stature among the waters of this Earth, Lord Dagon. And because you and I have very compatible goals, as I’m sure you’ll find to be true over the course of this conversation. If you do not, then neither of us are any worse off for the meeting, and we part ways cordially.” The Mammon did not flinch when Dagon rose, nor did he give any indication of surprise at the movement. He raised his eyebrows slightly and leaned in to the table, spreading his hands out, palms up, as he did so. “My name is Maximilian Blackwell. I am, without much room for debate, the richest person in human history. But it is not that title which grants me my knowledge of you and your realm. I Am The Mammon, God of Greed, Lord of Lust, Prince of Pride, Emperor of Envy, Sire of Sloth, Grand-Duke of Gluttony, Warrior of Wrath. The fight for riches, survival, and power that lives within every living being flows through me. My dominion extends to wherever life and death reside. I have lived between this realm and my own for time immemorial. As such, the knowledge and resources I lay claim to know no bounds. You have done a commendable job of staying hidden from my fellow surface dwellers, but my sources tend to dive a fair deal deeper than most, as it were.”

Acting on an unseen cue, the servant from before brought forth a selection of fruit, bread, seafood and wine. Maximilian dipped an octopus tentacle into a creamy coconut sauce. “You have a nicely sized kingdom, Lord Dagon. Your people have few needs or wants that go unfulfilled. Your borders are strong. But why settle for nicely sized? Why have any desires not met? Why stop at strong? You do not need me, my people, my resources, my assets-worldly or otherwise. You have done fine without me thus far, and would continue to do so without a partnership between us. But why not have more? Friends are few and far between in a world like ours, Dagon, and I can be a very wise choice to have as a friend.”


(On lunch break, will code later when I have time)