Lean Paul finished working on his latest project. The fingers he was using matched the rest of the flesh, but his box was almost empty. Procuring more raw materials shouldn’t be too troublesome. He’d have to put up a new guild quest to get more. There was a gentle rapping on the ceiling above him from his assistant in the office. Now was probably a good time for a break anyway. Paul slowly made his way up the stairs past all his previous projects displayed in the alcoves. Pleased with his work, he put his trademark frown on before appearing before his subordinates.

“You may speak.” Lean Paul said as he stepped into the room.

“Filthy Mike and the boys are back. They were unable to acquire their target.” Said the elf behind the desk.

“Not good. His lordship paid triple the going rate and we are expected to deliver his package. Didn’t I give you all that Tar Blood of the Deep? That stuff isn’t cheap.” Lean Paul said. He looked sternly at the three guild members arrayed in front of him. Filthy Mike, the leader of the team, was unsteady on his feet. The other two were practically holding him upright.

“Sir, the gloves worked. They kept him from slipping away but he did something to Mike. The potions didn’t seem to make a difference. Since the building was across the street from their damn guild, the response was fast. We hoped to take out some his party members with the tar but one of them was a dwarf and kept them out of the building.” Said one of the boys.

“Let me see. Eyes bloodshot and his pupil is expanded. Looks like a concussion. Give him here.” Paul said. Paul jammed his hand into the back of Filthy Mike’s skull. There was a loud scream from the man as Lean Paul rummaged around under his skin. Seconds later Paul removed his hand, and the back of Filthy Mike’s head was unblemished. It was as if nothing had happened.

The large man stood ram rod straight suddenly. He turned to Lean Paul and bowed deeply at the waist. He remained there as if he was waiting for permission to stand. The other two were shocked by what they had just seen.

“You may speak.” Lean Paul said.

“Thank you for healing me, sir,” said Filthy Mike.

“Do your damn job. If I have to go out there and get him myself, how do you think that would make me look.? Weak is how. We’ve trained you three past your specializations. Why is it so hard to grab one level fifteen?” Lean Paul asked.

“He’s not level fifteen, sir. He’s level eighteen.” Said the other boy.

“Fine, it doesn’t matter anyway. I have a new mission for you. Since you failed twice now, we need another strategy. Just grabbing him isn’t going to work. I’ve consulted with the client, and he has a much better plan. We’ll just be the tip of the spear. Get up Mike, you’re embarrassing me.” Lean Paul said.

Deacon stretched out his limbs as he got up from the bed. A full night of meditation uninterrupted by bickering gods, put him in a fantastic mood. Before he went downstairs to meet up with everyone else, he decided to read the letters the teller gave him. The first one was from Mentalba. It mentioned he now has a shop in the capital in the East District. People are intrigued by the designs, but few are buying. He suggests visiting may boost interest. Deacon wanted some new threads anyway so that was going on todays agenda.

The next letter was from Mr. Clean. It informed him that his agent would be on standby while he was in the city in case things went bad. He was really cryptic about it saying he would always be around, but you just won’t notice him.

Finally the last piece of paper was a deed and a signed contract. Deacon noticed the mark of The Bookkeeper on the page and just smiled. With this business in his possession he could make more money and mess with Lord fancy pants. He felt kind of bad about it now that they have called a truce but if he couldn’t take a joke that was his problem.

Deacon almost forgot that he leveled yesterday. That means he has a leftover attribute point to distribute. On that note, he pulled up his attributes from his slate.

Attribute

Score

Intelligence

27

Strength

55

Speed

47

Agility

23

Wisdom

35

Luck

300

His Agility was lagging behind, so he decided to put his new point there. Hopefully, it’ll make him less clumsy. When that was done, he took another look.

Attribute

Score

Intelligence

27

Strength

55

Speed

47

Agility

24

Wisdom

35

Luck

300

“Sir, your team members are waiting for you downstairs.” Alfred said jolting Deacon from his musings.

“Right, breakfast. I’ve got to get you a way to cook.” Deacon said.

“Interestingly enough, Philo didn’t do much magical cooking.” Alfred replied.

“Well he was a long dead corpse just running around. Guess he didn’t eat much.” Deacon pondered.

He got dressed and headed down the stairs. In the seating area sat Amanda, Ralph, Tantus, Typhus, and Elle. Deacon didn’t know how he felt about Armand not accepting his hospitality. He understood it well enough; Alfred was the creation of a long mad sorcerer. It was probably more about him not trusting Deacon’s judgement than the dungeon cube.

“Is the princess ready to get up and start his day?” Amanda scoffed.

“Ha ha. Very funny. Who knows how to get to the Eastern District?” Deacon asked.

“You head east.” Ralph replied. Ralph had become the most comfortable inside the dungeon. He was sprawled out on the furniture with one leg draped over the armrest of his chair.

“Ok so it’s like that now. We are going to start today poking fun at the guy who has to meet the king?” Deacon asked sarcastically.

“Lad, you make it so easy. Come on then, where too first?” Typus asked.

“Well Mentalba has a new shop in the city. I would like to get a cleaner outfit for my meeting. Then we should probably look into getting some new armor. Unfortunately, the gift you all gave me is filled with holes.” Deacon said.

“Better the armor than you.” Elle said getting to her feet.

Deacon liked having the majority of his friends in one place without the hassle of enemy combatants or having to save towns filled with people. It was just, nice. That thought was fleeting as there was a loud knocking at the door leading into the guild hallway.

“On screen.” Deacon said to Alfred who happily obliged. Outside the doors stood Portus Ren. He held some paperwork in his hand, and he was tapping his foot impatiently. Deacon looked around and everyone gathered in the center of the room. Alfred withdrew himself from the walls and ceiling. Deacon then placed the cube in his bag. They were all standing in single file in the room as Deacon opened the door.

“All night, not one of you left that tiny room?” Portus asked.

“Can we help you Guild Master?” Deacon said trying to move the conversation along.

“Right, I would like to talk to you about your class. Probably best if you come out here into the hall since there is no room for me in there.” Portus said stepping back from the door.

“Sure thing.” Replied Deacon stepping into the hall. The rest of the team followed suit. Shortly there after it was just Deacon and Portus with most of his team waiting at the end of the hall. Typhus and Elle went to get food.

“Something very odd came up in my review. You don’t seem to have a skill tree. Just a list of spooky sounding abilities. Care to explain?” Portus asked.

“Well I have a forgotten class. It didn’t come with a skill tree. I really don’t even understand what that is.” Deacon said honestly.

“Then how did you get all these abilities?” Portus asked.

“Well sometimes from skill books and sometimes they just spontaneously show up.” Deacon said.

“Some of these descriptions are like other known abilities but they seem to have a ghostly twist in your case. Also I see nothing that uses your stamina bar. For a class that is focused on melee combat, I find that odd.” Portus explained.

“I don’t have a stamina bar.” Deacon said flatly.

“You don’t have a stamina…How do you execute anything? I would find it hard to offer this class to anyone that would even qualify for the racial component.” Portus said scratching his head.

“Most of my abilities run off of soul energy. Can I go? There is a long list of things to do, and I’ll most likely get interrupted doing them by some jack asses.” Deacon said.