“Truly?” The bored man asked, eyes full of delight and leaning forward in his chair.

“What is the mimic class?” Garth asked as he tapped on his implant and opened up his holographic interface.

Steven watched as Garth waved his hand around the interface, presumably looking for the class in his tutor page. He had told Garth that he was a special type of Conjurer, and hoped that he didn’t feel a bit betrayed.

“It won't be in there until you upgrade to Professor,” the Great Sage said, joining the discussion. The old man was looking at his fellow elder with curiosity.

“It is a special class designed around internalizing monsters,” the bored elder said, no longer looking very bored, “the more aggressive the user, the more powerful they become. The class is incredibly rare, but not unique.”

“How do you know about it?” Steven asked the man. He didn’t like the attention he was getting from the group.

Taryn spoke up, “The heads of houses are usually a special class. This group is the exception right now however, due to recent events. There is a rumor that the Felqwurst family had a particularly powerful ancestor.” He looked pointedly across the table, waiting for the old man to explain.

“Yes, he was a mimic. Not a summoner like most have postulated,” he said. The old man stood and looked directly at Steven. “I, Grendo Felqwurst, offer sponsorship to Steven Reckker. The Felqwurst family can offer…”

“I decline,” said Steven, flatly, looking at Grendo. He glanced around the table seeing clear disappointment written on the faces of the family heads. “I won’t be a part of your collective. I already told you,” he looked towards Caireena, “that I won’t help you. Get one of your ninjas to take me to the nearest Red Eye. I assume you’ll have me followed anyway.”

Steven stood and went into the previous room, finding an empty bench to sit on and wait. He was tired, hungry, and annoyed. These people, who he didn’t even know, were asking him to join some collective of fugitives. They had already used high ranking abilities to identify him, and he felt that was a huge breach of privacy. He never thought once to use his identify skill on anyone in Serenity Springs.

It wasn’t long ago that he’d died in a freak winter car accident, and he discovered a place of magic and monsters. People had classes, attributes, and abilities that defied logic. Just when he was starting to get a handle on the situation, someone was trying to get him to pick sides in a pointless conflict. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the table, trying to clear his head.

Within a few minutes he heard the hard footfalls of a heeled shoe.

“What’s the deal with you and the Sarentons?” Steven asked.

“When I died and was brought here,” Garth said, “I chose the tutor class, because it was the only magical type class that I had been offered. It had a ranged ability, Light Shot, that made quick work of the low level monsters. I came to Serenity Springs before level five, and joined the Guild.”

Steven could hear Garth moving papers around on the table, probably snooping, before he sat. Steven remained silent, waiting to hear more of the story.

“I took to the guild like a fish to water. Support classes really don’t have much of a choice. After a few days of getting my bearings in the new world, I joined a low level party, to get some experience and mana. It was just me and two others. We took turns going through each other’s floors one at a time. Well, one of the other members was a Reilnaut. After we finished a floor each, we came back to the town and he introduced me to the Great Sage, who was chief advisor to the family head. After a series of questions and a few demonstrations, he offered me sponsorship to the family. I accepted, and eventually got a place teaching at the school the Sarentons ran.”

“And then you fell in love with the headmistress, to never enter into the dungeon again,” Steven concluded. He liked Garth, but the man was long winded. There was nothing other to do than talk while he waited for someone to show him the way out.

“Close,” said Garth, chuckling. “I never did go back into the dungeon until I escorted Mari through her first few floors. And I did get pretty close to Caireena. It was her who persuaded me to go back into the dungeon starting with her sister. And then all that other stuff happened.”

“You could have just said you had dated Caireena,” said Steven. “I’m ready to get out of here. Are you still going to uphold your end of the bargain?” He didn’t want to sound accusatory, but was unsure as to what Garth was even able to do now that the families had voted to start resisting the Emperor.

“It’s not a problem, we’ll go take care of your boss. But you’re right, you know,” said Garth, shifting his weight a little on the bench. “It isn’t our problem. It's the dungeon-born's problem. I decided to stay out of it and am no longer sponsored by the Reilnaut family. Not that it actually meant anything, the past fourteen years. Also, you could have left before I came out here.”

Steven looked over at Garth, who was pointing towards the other side of Steven.

“Ninja!” Steven exclaimed, when he turned to see a black clad huntsman standing there.

The hunstman escorted the two through a door and down a hallway into another room that held a Red Eye.

“You know, they don’t actually know what a ninja is,” Garth said when the huntsman left them by the eye. “We have also been given permission to use this site as an in and out from the dungeon. I wouldn’t normally be inclined to accept that proposition after declining the sponsorship reinstatement, but it does allow us to skip tithing at the transportation platform. And here.” Garth pulled a folded piece of paper from a hidden pocket somewhere in his robes and held it out for Steven.

Steven took the folded paper and opened it.

A mimic’s power is only limited by their imagination.

Grendo

He grunted when he read the note, not sure exactly what it meant. His imagination can only take him so far. A rat claw was just a rat claw, after all. But he didn’t dismiss the advice altogether, and placed the note in his pouch.

“I’m going to disband the party, and then send you another invite,” Garth said as he tapped on his implant.

A moment later Steven did the same, and accepted the new invite from Garth, who then tapped his implant to the Red Eye. Steven received a dungeon notification.

Noble's Catacombs node activated.

Guildhall Waystation node activated.

Party member had initiated transfer.

Teleportation in 10 seconds.

He didn’t remember there being a node at the waystation the last time he was there. Dismissing the message, he started, “Hey where are we…” The rest of his question was lost in the black nothing not-quite-a-vacuum of teleportation.

They appeared standing beside a Red Eye against the wall of a large lobby. Directly to his right, Steven recognized the door to his room, but everything else was completely different. There wasn’t a bar staffed by the voluptuous Matron, but instead a sit down restaurant containing thirty or forty tables attended by red and gold clad waiters and waitresses. The kitchen was barely visible through a doorway behind a small countertop. It reminded him of the restaurants he would see in an airport.

The rest of the lobby seemed more like a recreational area than a sitting room. The rustic decorations of the waystation in the lesser guildhall were nowhere to be seen. This waystation was bright with white walls upon which hung paintings of battles. He could even see a few portraits hanging underneath particular battles.

Steven saw pool tables, ping pong tables, air hockey, ski ball, even basketball games. Those were just the activities he recognized. He watched as a couple people were throwing spinning tops into an area covered with sand. Along the far wall were large glass doorways where patrons were playing tennis. It looked a bit distorted, likely from the magic increasing the size of the court, but it was undeniably a tennis court.

“Why would anyone go into the dungeon, when this could be their eternity. The only thing I can’t see are arcade games.” Steven said in awe of his surroundings. He tore his eyes away from the festivities and moved to the doorway nearby, fishing his key out of his pouch. “Oh! Matron said you haven’t paid rent. You’re welcome to stay with me, if you need.”

Garth shook his head and pulled out his own key. “There’s no need. The Great Sage forgave my debt, in return for a particular favor,” he said. “I’ll meet you here after resting up a bit, then we’ll go finish your floor. Does twenty hours from now sound good?”

“Time doesn’t make sense to me here. I have the timers and counters, but they can’t be right. Just come get me, or something. I’m in,” Steven inserted the key and 186,392 appeared above the keyhole, “that room.” He pointed at the number. He gave Garth a few seconds to memorize his room before opening the door.

Closing the door behind him, he expected the room to be different, but it had the same decorations and layout as the first time he used it. Making his way to the small countertop that contained the menu, he ordered a steak with mushrooms and mashed potatoes. The price had gone up a bit, but with a little under 600 mana he could easily afford the difference.

He watched his steaming plate of food rise from the magic table, still in disbelief. Aside from the dying and possibility of being stuck in a loop of endless pain and suffering, he decided this place really was pretty cool. As long as he stayed out of political messes, anyway.

“I’ll get back to the death and dismemberment later, but now, it’s time to eat!”