[In the heavenly abode of Vanaheimr]
On the throne made of gold encrusted with precious stones sat an angel twilled in silken robes and aesthetic pearls. But his face looked grim and sullen.
His jaws had hardened, and his narrowed eyes had been glued to the glass orb levitating in front of him. With his hands, he was time and again rotating it as if trying to locate something.
The sound of the anklets of someone approaching took away his attention momentarily, but he didn't bother to even lift his eyes in the direction of the sound. Perhaps he knew that it wasn't worth his time.
"Lord Nubeous! Would you care for some more wine? I freshly brewed them with my own hands today." Asked a nymph with a seductive look in her eyes. Her skimpy rayon-clad body left nothing for imagination. But Lord Nubeous didn't even glance at her.
He simply flicked his index and middle finger, wanting her to disperse.
