Master Chaplin entered the room behind the pair of men with the battering ram. They dropped it to the floor and drew swords from their sheaths as men poured into the office to confront the unarmed Goblins. Master Chaplin was staring at the empty transport cart in horror. He gulped as he noticed Dink watching him calmly.

“Master Chaplin, how polite of you to knock first before entering,” Lady Estra said dryly.

“Apologies, Lady Estra. I was beginning to become concerned for your safety after hearing sounds coming from within. We thought perhaps…” Master Chaplin replied to her chastisement.

“Thought what?” Lady Estra demanded.

“Ahem, that perhaps they broke free of their cage to have their way with you,” Master Chaplin replied after clearing his throat.

“I can take care of myself. Thank you for your concern. It was unnecessary,” Lady Estra replied curtly.

“Uh… yes,” Master Chaplin swallowed back what he was about to say. How she had been defeated by the Goblins in the arena only that afternoon.

“I believe my attendants' items are still being held in trust with the arena in the event of their deaths. I was surprised to discover my pack being kept in your personal office after the battle. I trust that you refrained from searching its contents. The tracer spell was undisturbed aside from informing me of its location. You must have been very confident that I would survive that battle to return for it,” Lady Estra said coldly.

“I’ll have them here immediately. You, go and collect Lady Estra’s attendant’s items. The arena sweepers will have completed processing them by now. Also, have them deliver their packs to my private suite upstairs. Lady Estra, I suggest that we move to a location more appropriate for our conversation,” Master Chaplin invited, looking toward her with a pleading expression. He regretted barging in only to be berated in front of his men.

“There’s no need. We will be leaving post haste. Have all possessions brought to me here,” Lady Estra declined.

“You heard her. Why are you still here? Go!” Master Chaplin instructed his subordinate impatiently. He looked relieved after hearing her intention to leave.

“Wait!” Dink commanded.

The men all gripped their weapons tighter as they tensed at Dink’s words. Master Chaplin looked to be the most anxious, hurriedly leaving the room to escape Dink’s range.

“What can I help you with… Dink?” Master Chaplin asked, even including his name.

“A mage needs a focus, I’m sure that you understand this. I propose a trade. The Attuned focus sword for the arcane focus Goblin staff. The trade is extremely favorable to you and we have no need for a Human focus. Do you accept?” Dink offered, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Yes, of course. If Lady Estra agrees,” Master Chaplin quickly responded after seeing Dink’s body language. Looking toward Lady Estra in supplication.

“She agrees,” Dink said. He was enjoying toying with his most recent master.

He inhaled deeply, the room was filled with the invigorating aroma of fear. He surveyed the men arrayed in front of him. Sweat beaded their brows as their hands trembled with uncertainty, looking at Master Chaplin in annoyance. They wanted him to hurry and accept, not wanting to stand between him and a merciless killing machine like Dink. Master Chaplin was aware of their displeasure, giving Lady Estra an apologetic smile before speaking.

“Then the matter is settled. An Attuned sword focus for a Goblin staff. I accept your trade,” Master Chaplin said with false friendliness.

“Good. Deliver it to the main entrance. I want to use my newfound freedom to experience walking among my adoring fans before I leave. Lady Estra, shall we?” Dink instructed as he began walking toward the door.

The men barring his path dropped all pretense as they lowered their weapons and quickly moved out of his way. The master looked like he wanted to object, but self-preservation overrode his concern for the crowd’s safety, bowing slightly in acquiescence.

“I apologize, I forgot that I have another appointment. I will leave the men to escort you. Excuse me,” Master Chaplin said weakly as he began to escape the hallway.

Master Chaplin went through the armory entrance, disappearing up a flight of stairs leading to the surface. The men nervously followed behind Dink as he led Lady Estra and Murkuk into the armory. They were intercepted by a pair of arena sweepers carrying packs and heavy armor. They hurriedly presented them to Lady Estra. She accepted the packs while the men continued to hold the armor.

“Take these and distribute them however you like,” Lady Estra said as she gave the packs to Dink.

“Thank you,” Dink accepted, placing the packs on the ground.

Lady Estra started channeling mana, hovering a hand over each set of armor and boots still held by the arena sweepers. Dink ignored the itch on his neck as an arcane Sigil appeared in the air, illuminating the heavy armor with light. Specks of shimmering light began to erode the armor until the arena sweeper’s arms were empty. The light flew into Lady Estra’s hands, disappearing under her skin as the arcane Sigil faded away.

Dink began unpacking the leather bags, tossing clothing carelessly on the floor. He found some basic travel rations, biting into the smoked jerky with relish. He tossed the remainder to Murkuk who hungrily devoured it in moments. Dink found a pair of cloaks among the clothes. Dink grabbed a dagger from the nearest weapon rack. Using it to slash a pair of holes in the cloak for his arms to go through, and cutting it shorter, creating a long, ragged vest.

He equipped the vest without tying it closed as he raised the hood. The vest covered the entire length of his body, which left his muscular blue-black torso exposed. He gestured to the pile of clothes at his feet, turning to speak to Lady Estra.

“Any chance of making these more appropriate for Goblins of our stature?” Dink asked.

“Yes, it’s an easy spell. Why didn’t you include your cloak? I can still fix it,” Lady Estra responded, crouching down to hold her hands above the clothes.

“No need. I have an image to maintain,” dink replied jovially with a large, fanged smile.

An arcane Sigil appeared in the air as the clothing pile began to writhe on the floor, shrinking in size until it could fit the pair. Dink bent down to retrieve a pair of trousers, pulling them on. He tossed a shirt and pants to murkuk while gesturing for him to put them on. The Goblin mage mimicked his action of pulling on trousers, but looked confused when it came to the shirt.

Dink sighed, as he took the shirt away from him. He fed each of his arms through before buttoning the shirt closed, leaving the top two buttons undone. He reached up to his collar and flared them up before rolling the Goblin mage’s sleeves to expose his hairless forearms. Next, he took the cloak from the floor and draped it around Murkuk’s shoulders. He expertly tied the cloak closed, picking at it to let it fall with a flourish. He retrieved a pair of coin purses on the ground, looking at their contents before attaching one to each of their waists.

Dink stepped back, admiring the Goblin mage’s appearance. Murkuk shifted in the foreign clothing, pulling at the heavy coin purse in discomfort. Dink slapped his hand away before grunting in satisfaction. He looked very fashionable in the simple clothing.

“Too bad that we don’t have any appropriate boots that wouldn’t be destroyed by Goblin claws. But this will have to do. People won’t know how to react after seeing a clothed Goblin. I can’t wait to see their reaction. Panic most likely,” Dink said with a dark chuckle.