Arcana one shots!

Oh for the love of crocs

Something had to be done. For 3 years the court had put up with this but upon finding more of them being stored in almost every corner of the palace, everyone was concerned. Including the countess.

As a result of this behavior, the courtiers had to take action. For better or for worse. Three of the courtiers sat in a cramped carriage on the way to an estate that was rarely spoken of nor visited. The rain tapped lightly against the carriage window as a voice broke the silence "are you sure this is wise...?" Vlastomil turned to look out the window.
"Volta likes food but she doesn't obsess this much over it" Vulgora crossed their arms "They need help. Volta found one in the kitchen yesterday, she was choking on it when I found her" they grumbled.
Tense silence overtook the carriage once more.

Large black gates came into view, vines draped over them and they looked as though they had never seen the light of day. The estate was befitting of the quaestor. Large yet not over the top. Dark and eerie which left an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach.

The carriage came to a stop outside the doors and Vulgora all but jumped out letting out a sigh of relief "hurry up" they turned to see Vlastomil and Volta stumbling out, the latter almost dropping her pretzels on the ground.
"Do be careful! This is the only food Volta has on this trip!" They held the bag closer to their  chest.

Vlastomil knocked firmly on the oversized oak door. Less than a minute later the door swung open and a familiar head popped out. "May I be of any assistance?" Valdemar tilted their head inquisitively "We have come to help you with your uhh..problem.. quaestor" Vlastomil gave a wary smile.

Valdemar's stoic expression swiftly changed to an unsettling grin "I have no clue what problem you are referring to Vlastomil" Valdemar moved to close the door but before the door closed Vulgora slammed their fist against it  stopping the quaestor from closing it. Valdemar looked at them unfazed "I think you know very well what issue we are referring to. Let. Us. In." Vulgora spat.

"We do not wish to be here any more than you want us to" Volta chimed in. Valdemar looked mildly annoyed before stepping aside, letting the three courtiers enter.

Vlastomil didn't know what to expect upon entering the quaestor's estate but it certainly was not this. Crocs of varying shades of green littered the floor, not an ounce of the sleek black tile in sight. He wondered how Valdemar managed to sort through their crocs.

Valdemar turned and made their way to what is assumed to be the lounge. It was hard to tell with the ungodly amount of crocs in sight. Volta followed them effortlessly, used to the clutter as Vlastomil and Vulgora tried to keep up.

They entered a dimly lit room and seated themselves quite easily considering the sheer amount of horrendous crocs surrounding them. Valdemar sat perfectly upright and gave them a cold stare. "You need to throw them away" Vlastomil stated plainly "I refuse" "Throw. Them. Out." Vulgora crossed their arms. "No" Valdemar looked at them with disgust "This is ridiculous!!" Vlastomil, Valdemar and Vulgora all turned to look at Volta who had now run out of pretzels "Valdemar your collection of crocs is excessive and ill suited to you. The green blends with your skin and the countess said you look like an eyesore" She stood picking up a green croc. Valdemar looked between Volta and the croc.

In a split second Volta was chewing on the croc as Valdemar darted out of their seat in an attempt to save their croc however Vulgora was quick to act and they pinned the quaestor  to the floor. Vlastomil just sat watching the scene unfold wishing he were at home with his beloved worms.

Volta finished the croc just as Valdemar threw the Pontifex off of them. The Quaestor marched over to Volta (as well as one could in a sea of green crocs) and said in a suprisingly menacing tone "Return. My. Seafoam. Green. Crocs. Immediately." Vulgora moved over to Valdemar taking advantage of the situation "if you dont remove your crocs from the palace and wear some normal shoes, I'll have Volta visit your croc sanctuary  regularly" they had a smug grin on their face knowing Valdemar's defeat.

Valdemar was torn. They wanted to refuse, distress was clearly written all over their face but they didnt wish such a horrid fate on any more of their beloved crocs.

Two weeks later Quaestor Valdemar had shown up to the palace wearing black boots with excessively long pointed toes and a dislike towards Volta.