Shake on it

”Capital!” The two of you shake hands. He pats you on your back and calls for his Factotum. ”There is paperwork to be signed, back at the estate. You will stay for dinner?”

You accept the command with the expected grace. The Factotum conveys you through the park and drives the cab up the gravel driveway, up to the imposing facade of the mansion. The Titan then leads you through the column hall, up the stairs, and along the gallery to his office.

A painting of HIM smiles down benevolently from the door-side wall, dwarfed by the life-sized portrait of the Cerulean Titan hung from behind his desk. It shows your patron younger and slimmer, dressed in a whimsical uniform. He offers you Grain Whisky and graciously allows you to read through the form contract twice. You both add your signatures and then wait, engaged in small talk, for the dinner bell.