Typhus and Elle coaxed Jacob out into the hallway leaving Deacon and Sophie in his small room. Sophie turned to look at Deacon giving him an appraising gaze. He immediately felt uncomfortable subsequently jumping off the cot to lean against the window again. Deacon had thoughts of launching himself out into the courtyard, but this was the fourth floor. He doubted even he was that lucky.

“Why don’t you have a Mana bar?” Sophie inquired.

“What?” Deacon asked his head snapping back to look at her.

“When you joined the party, I noticed you only have a health bar and green bar. No Mana or stamina bar. I’ve never seen that.” Sophie said.

“Well…um. I’m not sure about the stamina bar. Honestly, I’m not sure about anything. I have a forgotten class. I didn’t know anything about those bars until Elle mentioned something a few days ago.” Deacon explained.

“Weird but I don’t think it’s a problem.”, said Sophie, “but we should get going. Unless you want to just stand around shirtless in your room with me.”

“Yup, going sounds like a great idea.” Deacon spat out getting a frown from Sophie.

They headed out into the hall noticing someone had collected the corpse and several people were in the hallway cleaning up. They shot angry looks over toward Deacon as they made their way to the railing overlooking the guild hall. That’s where they found Jacob and the others having a heated conversation. Typhus was holding up that gold bar and pointing back at Deacon. Elle was just shaking her head as Jacob asked questions.

“So why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Jacob pressed.

“We thought he’d be safe here. When has there ever been a monster attack in this building?” Elle said.

“So, are we calmed down yet? Can I go get some new clothes now?” Deacon asked.

“Just go down to the guild shop and see what they have. Did you not tell him he could do that, Sophie? Or is this one of your bizarre flirtations?” Jacob barked out.

Sophie just grinned, slipped her arm under Deacon's, and led him past everyone down the stairs. They stopped by the guild shop and the woman behind the desk just tossed him a wool shirt, giggling like a schoolgirl. It was honestly no better than a potato sack, but it covered Deacons torso well enough.

“Are you telling me I didn’t have to walk around half naked this whole time?” Deacon asked.

“Slipped my mind. Now let’s go find you something that really pops.” Sophie said.

“Hang on, got to stop and see The Teller first.” Deacon said.

Deacon spent a good five minutes going back and forth with The Teller shuffling pieces of paper around. He finally took a pen and ink and started sketching something on the pages. After all was said and done, he put ten silver and ten gold in his bag. Sophie looked at him with one eyebrow raised tapping her foot. He joined back up with her and out into the city they went. Sophie brought him to several different tailors but when Deacon explained what he wanted they mostly shook their heads no. Once they reached the fifth tailor Sophie stopped out in front to have a conversation with Deacon.

“Look this is the last one I know of, he’s a little more expensive than the rest and has a reputation for eccentricities. If you can’t make a deal with him, you might as well buy your clothes from any general store.” Sophie said.

Deacon entered the shop immediately coughing at the plumes of smoke wafting in his face. There were at least four sewing tables and a free-floating needle on the counter working its way through some fabric. Along the walls hung many different cloaks and outfits in varying styles. The sign behind the counter said, “Stitch Life.”

“Welcome to Mentalba’s Clothier. How can I help you.” Said the thin lanky armed elf with blue skin.

“Hi, I’m Deacon. I’m looking to fill out my wardrobe.” Deacon replied.

“I am the proprietor Mentalba himself. It is very nice to meet you. What kind of clothes were you looking for?” Asked Mentalba as he gestured Deacon over to a small platform surrounded by mirrors.

“I have a few sketches I made before coming here I’d like to show you.” Said Deacon as he stepped up in front of the mirrors removing his new shirt. Deacon hadn’t actually seen his reflection since coming to town. His body was all lean muscle with none of the paunch he had back on earth. He’d almost go as far as to say near Olympic caliber. He looked down at his boots and pants. His pants were a raggedy hole riddled mess. The boots were just fine.

“I have to be honest”, said Mentalba while taking detailed measurements, “I don’t expect you can afford my services. At least based on our current attire.”

“Sure, sure, but take a look at what I’d like made.” Deacon said as he held out papers, he worked on at The Tellers counter. Mentalba took a long hard look. He began pacing back and forth from the mirrors to his counter. The strange looking elf lifted his head and walked back over to Deacon.

“This is nothing like I’ve ever seen in these lands. Where did you see these clothes?” Mentalba asked with wonder in his eyes.

“They are styles from my home plan…. where I’m from.” Deacon replied.

“I would very much like to make these. I have been in such a rut lately making the same old styles that every tailor in the kingdom makes. I have been craving a challenge. There is no passion left in the industry. May I purchase these pages from you?” Mentalba asked.

“No. but I will make you a deal. Give me a discount and I will sign a licensing contract with you. Any other designs I can remember will be exclusive to Mentalba’s Clothier. You will be the only one that makes these exclusively. If you are still on the fence about the idea, if the clothes don’t become popular you’ve lost nothing, and I become your only buyer.” Deacon laid out with his biggest car salesman like smile.

“Such a thing has never been done before. What would you get out of it?” Mentalba asked.

“Well for starters I won’t be walking around in a potato sack anymore.”, That got a chuckle out of Mentalba, but Deacon went on, “I’d like ten percent on any sale made with the designs I supply you including variations on theme. You’re an honest man, right? For my part when I’m asked, I will tell everyone where I got my clothes. Complete with directions to shop.”

“What makes you think anyone will ask you, at least with enough interest to look into it? It’s not like this is a general goods store.” Mentalba asked.

“Have you heard of Mulvaria?” Deacon asked.

Twenty minutes and some fierce negation later, Deacon was talked down to five percent on every piece based on his designs, two full outfit replacements a month, and an agreement to bring all clothing designs directly to Mentalba. With the business stuff out of the way, Deacon commissioned three full suits, pants jacket and vest, a hoody with a front pouch, and finally some silken sleep wear.

“Your garments should be available in a day or two my Lord. Please take any shirt and pants combination you see hanging for now. Your total cost will be three silver pieces, that includes the discount we talked about. Are you sure this “Teller” can be trusted to handle your account?” Mentalba asked as three of the four sewing tables lit up with activity. They all had a magic sewing needle that went to work as soon as Deacon handed over the three silver.

New Bargain Struck- You have entered into a licensing agreement with the Sea Elf merchant Mentalba. Your fates are now connected. If either of you are not true to your word, you will face the wrath of the Fates.

“Don’t worry, he is more than capable. I just hope all his counterparts are. I’ll bring some more sketches by tomorrow when I come to see what you’ve got so far, so long partner.” Deacon said as he exited the shop donning his new shirt and pants.

“What was all that? You just convinced a shop owner to give up some of his profits to make clothes? I’ve never heard of that before.” Sophie asked.

“It’s called licensing. You obtain permission from a company or person to manufacture and sell one or more of its products within a defined market area. It’s just business where I come from. I was hoping there was a system in place to manage said agreements and I was not disappointed.” Deacon said with a huge grin on his face.

“How can you be so sure people will want to wear those designs?” Sophie queried.

“I’ll put it this way, does everyone in guild know who I am now?” Deacon asked.

“Most do who were at the guild yesterday. Those who were out on missions I’m sure got the notification, but it didn’t say who.” Sophie said.

“Well, if being in this world has taught me anything, everyone will know who I am sooner or later.” Deacon said.

After ten minutes of walking Sophie turned them down a side street that smelled like fresh bread and pastries. Deacon followed his nose ignoring Sophie's tug on his new shirt. Once she finally got his attention, he realized they had turned off the actual street and were in an alley. There were three young men staring at them, one sitting on a crate flipping a dagger.

“That’s him. He’s the one going around to all the tailors flashing coin. Can’t miss that puff ball of white hair.” Thug number one said.

“Are you sure about this? She looks kind of tough.” Thug number two said.

“Give us your silver and nobody need get bloody.” Thug number three said.

“Sophie, I just bought these clothes, do you want to handle these losers?” Deacon asked, but when he got no response, he turned his head to see a fourth thug holding a rag to Sophie face. Completely shocked by what he was looking at he hardly noticed the knife jab into his side. At the same time thug number two started yanking on his satchel, he must have thought it would come free but found himself yanked off his feet.

“Listen boys, I don’t want to hurt you. Just release my friend and let us go.” Deacon said in as calm a voice as he could muster. He sorely wanted to beat them featureless, but they were just kids.

“What gives, no blood.” Thug number three said.

“God damn it I just bought this shirt!” Deacon roared blooming his aura. His first target was the one chloroforming Sophie. If he didn’t know what he was doing he could kill her. He spun on his heels and bounced off the closest wall narrowly avoiding thug number one trying to tackle him to the ground. Thug number two tried to get back up but started to slip on the ice forming from his aura. Thug number four seeing an angered Deacon heading toward him put a knife up to her throat stopping him in his tracks.

“We are Mountains Shadow, one more step and I paint he alley with her blood.” Thug number four said confidently.

“What do you think happens if you do that? You want to start a guild war?” Deacon asked.

“Shut up, I’m in charge. Drop your bag and step back.” Number four said.

“No.” Deacon said starring daggers at him. He felt two of the thugs coming up behind him, but they were having a hard time on the ice. What number four didn’t realize is Deacon got close enough that he’s in his aura’s range. He began cycling his hands focusing on the area just behind number four’s shoulder blades. He released his Ice Sickles right into number four’s back. With a yelp number four dropped Sophie who began to stir groggily. The two behind Deacon grabbed him and began to furiously shanking him in the back but the knives were mundane and did no damage.

“Enough!” Deacon yelled pitching forward flipping both thugs into the wall. He then prepared to freeze thug number two in place with a Nether Beam but saw he was already sprinting down the other end of the alley. He pointed his right hand at the two he tossed into the wall and blasted a spot where their limbs were close enough together to keep them in place. Sophie managed to get her back to a wall. She somehow wrapped thug number four up in a spiders web.

“Won’t last long. What happened.” Sophie asked.

“You tried to warn me about the thieves, and I wasn’t paying attention. It will not happen again.” Deacon said as he picked her up to walk her out of the alley. There was an old man out in front of his fruit stand starring at Deacon with wide eyes. He was short with a long white beard growing from under his lip and a long white mustache hanging from either side.

“You mind controlling that aura of yours? Its all over the street.” Said the old man.

“Excuse me?” asked Deacon as he released Sophie. Seemed she could walk on her own now.

“You’re damned aura. It’s like a fart that fills a room. Have you no control?” replied the old man.

“Now you listen here you old coot…fuck!” Deacon yelled as the old man flipped him onto his back from five feet away. When Deacon looked up, the old man was in a fighters stance with his right hand held out grasping nothing. That nothing just so happened to be the edge of his aura.