Beckyann sighed, looking around the expansive office she found herself seated in, waiting impatiently for the gnome she'd been sent to meet to show up. Already thirty minutes past their scheduled meeting time, her appointment looked like it was going to take far longer than she'd expected.
She'd been directed to this particular establishment after bringing a number of artifacts from a recent dig to the marketplace to auction off. While some of the items that she tended to find in her tomb-raiding could be easily sold, such as gems or ancient coins, other things had values that either needed to be appraised or that would only be interesting to those who collected such things. It was for that reason that she currently sat in a high-backed leather chair wearing one of her nicest dresses waiting patiently for a gnome that apparently was never planning to show up, despite what his secretary in the adjoining room had said.
As her patience wore down, Beckyann began to fidget, reaching out to touch the elaborate carved rosewood pen-holder and golden pen that was placed strategically on the edge of the desk alongside a miniature bust of King Varian Wrynn. The pieces gave just enough elegance to the already elegant hardwood, highly polished and entirely-too-large desk to show off the importance and wealth of the desk's owner. In fact, the surface of the light-forsaken thing was so shiny that Beckyann could lean forward and easily see her own reflection in the wood; precisely what she was doing when the door in the rear of the opulent office finally pushed open and her contact walked in.
To say he was flashing his wealth was an understatement. The gnome was wearing more golden jewelry on his person than Beckyann had ever found in any of her digs. His deep black beard was tied back with golden clasps and he carried a hardwood cane in one hand, the head of which was an enormous gemstone that glittered in the sunlight coming in through the office windows. The gnome was short, but no shorter than others of his kind and strolled leisurely towards his side of the desk before using what appeared to be a step-stool to reach the chair's sitting surface. He looked at Beckyann across the table, one eyebrow perched just so such as to give a general air of disapproval at what he saw.
"And why have you come here, ...Miss Eastberg was it?" he said, affecting a bored air about him.
Beckyann shifted in place, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the gnome's presence. Even so, she needed him to appraise her find, and she plastered the best smile she could on her face, trying not to roll her eyes behind her glasses, "Well Mister Gemgear, I was told that you are one of the finest appraisers of lost treasur-"
"Actually, I'm the finest appraiser in all of Stormwind," the gnome cut in, frowning at her. "I do not ordinarily see just anyone off the street either. The fact that you were even able to book an appointment with someone like myself is a miracle. Please do not deem to waste my time or your own by pretending that I wish you in my presence for any longer than it will take to perform my services, which you will pay top coin for I might add."
Beckyann blinked, her mouth half-open as she tried to collect her thoughts. After a moment, she managed to blurt out, "O-Oh. Right. Well I u-uh f-found this mask that I was told you would probably w-want to s-"
"Ah. Another treasure-hunter then," the gnome said, smirking at her. "Do you honestly believe that any little trinket you might dig up would be of interest to someone like me? People take years to find items that are worthy of my auction house. Some people work their entire lives, never finding an item that I would deem worthy of appraisal. I do hope you realize how terribly expensive your mistake here is going to be."
Beckyann blinked again. Had she been alive she likely would have been blushing by now with the way the gnome was so rudely talking down to her. As it was, she just barely managed to restrain the rising ire in the back of her mind as she shifted in place, reaching down to pick up a cloth covered parcel from the floor. She set it on the table's surface, staring the gnome down, "Look at it. Now."
The gnome laughed, rolling his eyes and reaching out to slide the cloth across the table, chuckling to himself, "Very well, Miss Eastberg. Let us see what amateurish thing you have discovered for me to look at with your little hobby. I'm sure that it will give me a good laugh when I return to the treasure vaults later and examine true masterpieces that collectors would actually wish to purchase. I don't understand why you common diggers are so ignorant when it comes to such things."
He went on just a tad longer than he should have. Beckyann rose from her chair, slamming her hands down on the table, scourgelight leaking from the edges of her glasses as she stared at the now concerned looking gnome. "Open the package now, you little cockalorum. Before you make me any angrier."
The gnome swallowed once, his eyes wide as he undid the cloth wrapping on the piece. He looked down, and now his own mouth fell open in shock.
It was a death mask, but no ordinary death mask. Clearly of trollish origin, the piece was exquisitely carved from marble, inscriptions on it leafed with gold and clasps set into the stone to hold gems in place on the figure's eyes, forehead, and chin. The work of a master craftsman, there was little doubt that the piece was both incredibly valuable and incredibly rare; the mask having been intended for a high priestess or some other important public figure in ancient times.
"I-it's...gorgeous," the gnome said, his voice quiet.
Beckyann smiled, her ire calming as she admired the piece as well, nodding in agreement, "That it is. Some of the most beautiful art ever made was created to adorn the dead, and this is one of the nicest I've ever found. I treasure it, but others should see its beauty as well. It should not be hidden away in a tomb or the property of the dead alone."
The gnome nodded, turning the piece over and over in his hands, admiring it as his own ego was somewhat deflated by the woman's find. He looked up at her, now on the defensive, a question in his voice as he spoke, "And how much would you like for this, Miss Eastberg? Also would you like any refreshments while we negotiate?"
Now it was Beckyann's turn to smile as she sank back into her seat.
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