Conor arrived to find Pops counting out the till from last night. 
“Ah, umm, Conor. You are Mr. Cochan’s son-in-law, so I … I think I can trust you to be honest with this. Right?” He said hesitantly, handing Conor a bank bag with several thousand copper bills with the dragon emblem on it.
“Take these to the bank, and deposit them for me.” As if he has finally decided, Pops added, “And I warn you, Conor! Don’t get lost on the way! Mr. Cochan will have the city guard after you in minutes if he learns you swindled his till money. And I swear to make sure you get a dose of my own brand of punishment if you make me look the fool in front of him!”
“Yes sir.” Conor wasn’t thrilled about the task, but it got him out of the morning prep work. 
The bank held some humiliating memories for him. 
He couldn’t count the number of times he had visited Jinstain Bank and Trust in the past three years, onl

As Conor crossed in front of a spice shop next to the GrizlHut a mental hook pulled at his chest, causing him to step into the aromatic store and spend a second browsing the herbs. It was strange the desire to be in here, but it felt like somewhere he just need to be.  
His hand found a few dried seasonings including basil, oregano, rosemary, thyme, and marjoram. He couldn’t fathom what he might be able to do with them but headed back to the GrizlHut with his quick purchase. 
As he entered the back he saw Cara mixing a huge pot of fresh dough. Conor’s mouth went dry at the thought. He had tried the GrizlHut’s dough the other night and to say it was bland was an understatement. 
But according to Cara, Pops insisted that recipe was a staple that had been in his family for generations.
‘Generations of dead people with no tastebuds,’ Conor thought inwardly.
After he clocked in, he set his ba

The next morning Conor slept in late. 
Jessica had not felt the need to rudely awaken him today, it seemed. 
Conor sighed. This extra sleep felt like a small birthday miracle.  Though she could be cruel at times, Conor still liked her. He longed for her to have more faith in him. With a deep breath, he reminded himself that he had not given her much reason to believe in him.
He walked out of his room to find some food from the kitchen before heading back to the GrizleHut. It seemed Mr. Cochan was intent on having him work daily to earn his keep or perhaps he just felt he could work Conor to death as cheap labor and Conor would not be able to complain if he wanted to save his marriage.
Just then a knock sounded from the front door. 
‘Odd, we don’t usually get visitors.’
Conor answered the door to find a finely dressed dark-skinned gentleman with short, cropped hair and a thin short goatee, wearing a full formal charcoal business suit and red tie. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties.
“Mr. Brantley?”
“Yes? Who are you?”
“My name is Liam Nuri. I am from the Dreadnaught Law firm of Bayan."
Dreadnaught Law firm of Bayan? Conor thought fast. He knew this name. Dreadnaught was the largest and most powerful law firm in the whole province of Bayan. Many claimed it was the premier firm in the whole kingdom!
“Well, umm nice to meet you Mr. Nuri, but umm, what are you doing here?”
Mr. Nuri withdrew two packets from his briefcase, which he handed to Conor.
“I am not being served, am I?” Had Jessica decided to follow her mother's advice and divorce him? And on his birthday no less? Cold, bitch. Cold.
“No. Well, perhaps not in the sense you are thinking. This is not a summons or a lawsuit. However, you are being served your inheritance. Happy twenty-fifth birthday." Mr Nuri said, looking at Conor amiably and handing him a small pile of envelopes.
"Pardon?" His inheritance? What inheritance? Conor was completely dumbfounded.
"Yes, from your mother. I know you likely don’t remember me, but your mother was very good to me when I was young." Nuri said solemnly and kindly explained, "Her wisdom provided many opportunities me and those in my employ and helped me get established in the world. In honor of her memory, should you need anything in the future, my card is there as well. Call any time."
"Okay... oh, and ... thanks." Conor still felt dizzy while examining the business card and figuring out what Nuri meant. But before he could ask about anything specific, Mr Nuri has already walked away.
Conor stumbled back into the apartment and opened the first sealed envelope. A silver pendant on a gold chain fell into his open palm, along with two of the kingdom's gold dragon coins and a ring with a dragon emblazoned across it.  The coins were solid gold, about 10 centimeters across, and worth almost a full year's living expenses at their current apartment. The dragon ring reminded him of the royal seal he had seen on a letter from the king sent to his mother.
The visage of a grinning dragon head adorned the center of the shiny, mirror-like coins, talons gripping the rim as if trying to claw its way out. Most citizens would only see iron or copper coins, with the rare silver ones used for larger purchases or sometimes rent payments. gold dragons were normally only seen in the ranks of the nobility or very rich merchants. (Consider a gold to = around 20,000- 30,000 USD and is 10 oz of gold. A copper dragon is about $1 USD. a silver is around $150)
The pendant was of a small but life-like silver dragon statuette, with wings spread wide. The dragon was about the size of his palm and grasped a large bluish-green stone between its talons and silvery tail. Conor was mesmerized by it but then remembered the second envelope. Inside he found a short letter.
Dear Conor,
I am sorry I have to leave this burden to you. The pendant is a family heirloom and sacred trust. Guard it with your life and may Celia guide and protect you in return. I wish I could leave you more. Be wary of any who seek to take it from you. Know that you, my son, are my greatest treasure, and the biggest blessing of Celia. 
Love, Mom.
'Love mom!' 
What the hell was this?! 
Conor sat hard on the stool in the kitchen staring at the short note. 
Love mom… the words rattled in his head.  After so many years of wondering what had happened, this simple note was so inadequate. However, looking down at the pendant he had seen around her neck growing up, he knew his mother must have known something.
Holding this small memento meant the world to him as one of the only links left to his mother. Celia, Conor remembered, was the dragon god his mother had served and worshipped at the temple as high priestess.
What was a dragon god going to do for him now? The god clearly had not saved his mother.
Conor held the chain for a moment before slipping the long chain around his neck and tucked it into his shirt while he slid the gold coins and ring into his pocket. While he may not have much faith in Celia at the moment, the pendant had been his mother’s and he would keep it close in memory of her. the ring, he didn’t remember seeing before but he thought he recognized the seal. It was a mystery for another day.
BEEP! BEEP! Oh, no! Conor cursed inwardly as his watch beeped. He was going to be late for his shift. 
What A wonderful way to spend his birthday, working a crap job! 
However, he rationalized with himself as he rushed out the door that the two gold coins in his pocket were likely more cash wealth than he had seen in one place since he had left his mother’s temple, but they were still only enough to get them through a single year if spent directly on rent. He still needed a steady income!

Conor arrived to find Pops counting out the till from last night. 
“Ah, umm, Conor. You are Mr. Cochan’s son-in-law, so I … I think I can trust you to be honest with this. Right?” He said hesitantly, handing Conor a bank bag with several thousand copper bills with the dragon emblem on it.
“Take these to the bank, and deposit them for me.” As if he has finally decided, Pops added, “And I warn you, Conor! Don’t get lost on the way! Mr. Cochan will have the city guard after you in minutes if he learns you swindled his till money. And I swear to make sure you get a dose of my own brand of punishment if you make me look the fool in front of him!”
“Yes sir.” Conor wasn’t thrilled about the task, but it got him out of the morning prep work. 
The bank held some humiliating memories for him. 
He couldn’t count the number of times he had visited Jinstain Bank and Trust in the past three years, only to be laughed out the doors. His most recent humiliation was his idea for selling socks in the pac

Chapter 6: Investments