“Corporal you, and your squad are relieved. Report to the city barracks for reassignment at once,” barked a Deep Dweller commander. His beard was thick and grey matching the hair on his head. He wore a commanders set of shaped steel armor and was obviously a son of the five great houses.

“Yes sir! Commander Hascavir, sir. Should I leave my reports for the next squad?” asked Corporal Necho.

“That won’t be necessary Corporal. In the century that we have guarded the gates to the Deep Cavern, none have dared to trespass. We even have a memorial with the last two War Golems facing the doors. You should have seen them in action. They smashed through wave after wave of those hairless Dwarven bastards counter offensive until they just stopped coming. No one has that class anymore and the devices are so old I doubt even a Jinkbon could get them working. All that said, they took a knee when the fighting was done, and they’ve been there ever since,” replied Commander Hascavir.

“Everyone pack it up. We’re leaving,” ordered Corporal Necho.

Deep within Commander Hascavir’s mind he screamed at his outer self. Ever since he was given that amulet by his great grandniece, he’d lost all control of his body. The dishonor of being a warrior that was at the last battle to abandon the Monument to the Fallen. Scandalous! But the cursed object around his neck was controlling his every action. He could only rage at the prison of his own flesh.

“Should we not wait until the relief squad arrives, sir?” asked a private with his arms full of gear.

This one was smart. Perhaps he would see through this breach of protocol and the potential disaster it brought. Maybe his brothers in arms would see he was acting irrationally and bring an end to his torment.

“Private! You heard the commander. He said at once. Move, move, move!” screamed Corporal Necho cracking a small riding crop at the privates back.

The commander noticed from the backseat of his mind that the privates beard had barely grew in. He wouldn’t be prepared for the monsters that could boil forth from the depths of the cavern. Commander Hascavir had never felt so impotent.

Typhus Bloodbeard waived goodbye to his friends as the ghostly hands pulled at the edges of the gateway until it snapped shut. The ceasing of the arcane energy allowed the gate’s materials to slosh to the ground. While the heavy rain had finally stopped it was still drizzling. Typhus pulled his cloak tighter around his head and shadow jumped over to their captives.

“Now tell me everything about this contract you’ve taken. Who’s the client? What’s the reward? Is there a time limit? Every detail you can remember, and I’ll let you go,” explained Typhus as he loomed over them.

“You’ll let us go? What kind of trick is this? Bloodbeards leave no witnesses,” scoffed Avish Hascavir.

“Because I’m not a murderer. Unlike you, I don’t get sent out to kill people for money. I discover new things and find treasure. That’s what an Adventure’s Guild member does. Now talk,” spoke Typhus in a threatening tone.

“But you are a thief, you gave that mage my staff. I saw that. You owe me a staff—” was the last thing Avish Hascavir said before Typhus socked him right in the jaw. Avish’s head bobbled left than right before he slumped down being held up by his bonds alone.

“Would anyone else like to talk?” Typhus asked cracking his knuckles.

Deacon emerged from his ability into a bright sunny day at Iron Mountain Plateau. The gravestones were all dry and some of them had thick leafy growth on them. The many mausoleums stood stoically. There was warm breeze that caressed his face and Deacon almost felt like he was home. That’s when Tantus spun his newly acquired staff in a half circle catching the mercenary that fell through the portal under the chin with a loud crack. The merc’s head snapped back and the sword he was brandishing clattered on a nearby grave marker. Amanda spit something in his face and he damn near clawed his eyes out before falling limp.

“Paralytic. I’ll take him to the guard and meet you at the guild. Is there anything else I need to know before doing this? I do not want to miss my ride back to the Shattered Sky,” inquired Amanda.

“Good point. What does everyone need to do? I know I want to stop by Mentalba’s for a new outfit. Maybe get some grub at the commissary. I also need to check on my holdings. Tantus?” asked Deacon, before everyone’s eyes swiveled to the mage.

“I don’t want to visit uncle Verus if that’s what you’re asking. I’m supposed to be learning runecraft with the gnomes. Maybe check in with Alfred and see if he’s alright,” shrugged Tantus.

“I’ve never been to Iron Mountain. I suppose I’ll give a report to the local guild about my whereabouts. Yes, that seems like a fitting thing for me to do,” chimed in Hani.

“You don’t know your way around. Better come with me. No dancing,” warned Amanda.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear,” replied Hani before she took out one of the vials at her belt pouch and affixed Hani with a cold stare.

“I need to go back to Shattered Sky and check up on Ralph. Don’t do anything stupid. That goes for all you!” Amanda practically yelled.

Deacon was worried about Amanda’s mental state. The deadline for her Vendetta was fast approaching. They needed to get into the Deep Well and find Ruby. He thought he could use a hand with that. Now Deacon had an idea. He would need to send a message from the guild. For now, he was off to Mentalba’s after that a quick trip down to the newly created temple to Chimera or horse track. Whichever Frankilo ended up making it into.

The group split up at the gates to the cemetery commenting that they would meet at the Adventurer’s Guild for dinner. Deacon gave Alfred over to Tantus so he could set him up in his room at the guild. Then Amanada and Hani took the paralyzed mercenary to the town guard. With all that settled Deacon took off toward Mentalba’s.

Mentalba’s Textiles was the new sign above the door. His shop now encompassed half the block, and he had a sign that said deliveries in the back. Deacon wondered where there was a back to this long mercantile street. He shook off his errant thoughts and strode straight for the door. Upon opening a small bell rang and young, attractive elven woman approached him immediately. Looking around Deacon saw what used to be four tables with some enchanted sewing needles was now almost warehouse sized with people stationed at tables from wall to wall. He shook his head at the sound of feet pushing down on squeaky pedals that moved fabric across the tables while skilled laborers twisted the substance into various patterns.

“—is around the corner. This is the employees entrance,” said the Elven woman.

“Oh, what? Sorry I’m business partners with Mr. Mentalba. I’ve been out of town,” said Deacon dumbfounded. The industrious nature of the place did not feel right. Something was up.

“And you are?” asked the young lady.

“Where are my manners? I’m Deacon, Champion of Chimera,” he said with a big toothy grin.

“The Deacon? The man who single handedly created a boom in textiles. How could I verify that?” she asked.

“Is Mentalba in? I will just go talk to him directly,” Deacon said as he walked right through her and headed toward a set of stairs that lead to an office area.

“You mustn’t disturb him. He’s in his creative womb!” she yelled.

Deacon pushed open the door to Mentalba’s office startling the sea Elf while he was definitely in a womb. It just wasn’t the creative kind. More like a normal kind. Mentalba was lying on his desk, bare as his god made him. There was a beautiful Elven woman straddling him running a thin needle and thread through the outermost layers of his skin. Deacon began a slow clap.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Mentalba… eep!” shrieked the elven woman that initially greeted Deacon as she turned and ran back down the stairs.

“Well I’d like to say it’s nice to see you Deacon but I’m right in the middle of something—” he started before being interrupted.

“You sure are, nice to meet you ma’am,” Deacon said and inclined his head. She quickly covered herself and hopped off of her paramour, putting the desk and chair between her and Deacon.

Mentalba quickly grabbed a nearby swathe of fabric to cover his dangly bits. He then spent the next few moments getting his partner something to put on as she complained in a language Deacon didn’t understand about the situation.

“If you wait at the bottom of the stairs, I’ll be right with you,” Mentalba told Deacon through gritted teeth.

It was then Deacon realized he’d been standing in the doorway staring the whole time. He then slammed the door shut and jumped down to the bottom of the stairs. Deacon shook his head not knowing what came over him. He’s not one to leer at a pretty woman no matter how storybook beautiful they were.

‘This world certainly has some fine looking concubines,’ came the voice of Sun Wu in Deacon’s head.

“Was that you? Did you make me stand there and stare? Gross. We need to set some ground rules passenger,” chided Deacon.

‘Your opportunity for that was back in the prison. That sounds like a you problem,’ replied Sun Wu.

“It’s an us problem if it interferes with my money. You ever heard the term, cash rules everything around me?” Deacon asked.

‘C.R.E.A.M,’ answered Sun Wu.

“Yes. Now listen to that song in my head on repeat and be quiet. Daddy’s busy,” Deacon said.

A few minutes later Mentalba joined Deacon dressed in a sharp black and white suit at the bottom of the stairs. After a lengthy tour of his new facilities. Mentalba brought Deacon into a back room and displayed some new designs. It seemed the overalls Deacon had sketched last time were a huge hit. So much so an expansion of the operation was required. It wasn’t just miners and farm hands that wanted them. Anyone that owned a business where they employed laborers wanted a sturdy yet cheap uniform for people to wear. Even going as far as to make it part of their compensation. They get a set of clothes and a job. This was remarkable in a society where having more than one set of clothes meant you had money. It was slowly changing the economics of the region from iron mining to tailoring.

“It’s all thanks to you and your genius ideas. I of course add the no how, but I must admit, I’m starting to sour on the monotony. Would you by chance have any new ideas?” Mentalba asked with hope in his eyes.

“What would you change?” Deacon asked back using an old corporate tactic. Trying to get the audience to see the same thing differently.

“Well I’d like to go back to custom suits. I always felt that a sharp dressed customer elevated our brand. The overalls are fine, and they’ve made us a lot of money, but they aren’t stylistic,” answered Mentalba.

“You’ve answered your own question. Custom overalls. You can always go back to suits anytime but offer a modified version of the overalls. Some denote status within an organization. Something like that. I’ve actually come to bring you something new,” Deacon ended while pulling the monks robes, he got from the dungeon out of his bag.

“Monks robes? That’s as basic as pants and a tied up tunic. Are you serious?” asked Mentalba.

“Look closely,” Deacon said and handed them over.

“Bonuses to Agility and Speed. Eikerland silk. Fine craftsmanship. I’ll give you ten silver for the garment,” Mentalba said switching over well-trodden merchant instincts.

“I’d like you to learn from them. Maybe incorporate the bonuses into what we sell. For a premium of course,” Deacon guided. Then it was like a light bulb went off in Mentalba’s head.

“I have all the materials; give me a day and I can probably replicate this. Not replicate, improve upon. In the meantime I have a backlog of your weekly hoodies and pants. I didn’t know when you’d be by pick them up as per our contract. So I had them sent to the Teller at the guild for safe keeping. That’s one happy Leprechaun. I’m not sure what you did but he’s been singing your praises to anyone who’ll listen,” Mentalba explained.

“Yes, well I have a few questions for him as well. Alright then I’ll leave these with you. I need to stop by my property at the foot of the plateau. I’ll stop by tomorrow on my way out of town. Thanks again,” Deacon said as he exited the building.