Author Note: This is a little head cannon story that came to mind one day. There are several scenes to it and I will try to post as many as I can finish. Bear with me, however, as some of the settings info seems to be a little out of date. 
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Good Things Come in Small Packages but Trouble Ships in Crates…
I
Crystal-light flooded the far reaches of the room in a faint blue light, the source a majestic stained glass window worthy of any temple. Most of the room lay open without walls and doors except for those at the back. In the distant, blue shadows overlapping metal plates riveted tightly together formed the only hard boundary of the room.
An imposing console desk sat like a throne at the center of the room partially shrouded in shadows. The back rose well above the height of a man and supported strange screens and consoles imbedded into heavy stone and metal. The warm, orange glow of flames shone from lamps hanging on the support pillars at the front of the room. The gentle light softened the hard, immutable appearance of the desk. Flickers of light danced on every smooth and reflective surface.
Behind the desk sat a man bearing an air of authority about him, even with his head bowed deep into his work. Around him stacks of documents were neatly sorted and purposefully placed on the desk. His work implements too were meticulously arranged. Even his person spoke of a man accustomed to control and having his way above all others. This was the domain of a powerful man. This was the domain of the Winch Vigesimi.
Datal Allavium, the sole Dermorian male Vigesimi on the Dome, lifted one of the myriad papers upon his desk. A frown of displeasure creased his refined features. The paperwork bore the mark of Nolthrir merchants from the lowest level of Yliakum, the Deep. He moved to set the document down to move to another yet stopped short of actually putting it off.
The paper was a confirmation that the seaweed shipment designated for Kada-El’s tavern had arrived on the third level and was still on its way up to the top, the Dome. Though this paper would in no way speed the shipment along, the fiery haired man refrained from dismissing it. Any delay in passing word to a representative of the respected Hydlaa institution would surely result in further undesired disruptions to his work.
The exasperated Vigesimi resisted the urge to crumple the paper. Were the tavern not such an old and well established Hydlaa landmark and were the first owner not such a prominent and well respected citizen of the city, he would have long ago stopped the frequent “inquiries” into deliveries of their signature seaweed. Specialty seaweed or not, that should not have been sufficient justification for repeated-
Movement in his periphery vision pulled Datal from his thoughts and the paper in his hand. Rising an impressive 1.9 meters (6ft 3in), Yauna, Assistant to the Vigesimi, stood patiently waiting to be acknowledged. The ynnwn woman had long learned to wait rather than insist on diverting the imperious man’s attention thus avoiding his abrupt disdain and temper. As she waited she swayed nervously back and forth the ends of her impressively long hair making a gentle wssp wssp sound as it lightly brushed to stone floor tiles.
Datal calmly set the mercantile document down and waited for Yauna to speak. However, she said nothing. Gesturing tensely towards to steps, she implied the need for him to follow. An unsettling sense of wrongness permeated the interaction and Datal quickly rose to follow her out of his office.
