On their way out of the guild house they made several stops. One at the alchemy lab to make some potions and check in on Deacon’s apprentices. He managed to refill his potions and had a conversation with Anry about some sand he’d like to offer to the maker of their glass vials. They then stopped at Jacob’s office. He was more than happy to take the reins of the negotiations with the farmers. Jacob went so far as to offer a quest complete status for the team.
Quest Complete: Fiduciary Responsibility- Guild Master Jacob has asked you to continue to grow the guilds finances. This will help the guild grow and expand. Rewards; One thousand Guild Renown, One thousand Guild Points. New Ability- Midas Touch, Deacon only.
New Guild Ability Discovered: Midas Touch- This ability allows you to change a small object into gold once a week…Rule Breaker has activated. This ability allows you to change any object into any precious material once a month.
Of course upon the activation of Rule Breaker, Deacon grabbed his head as he experienced the sound of cannon balls smashing through a glass factory. To his surprise, the rest of the people in the room were also holding their heads.
“What in the ten hells was that!?” Typhus screamed.
“I don’t know but this isn’t’ the first time its happened.” Jacob said.
“You can all hear it too?” Deacon asked after it stopped. Getting a round of nods from everyone.
“Something you’d like to add, Champion?” Jacob asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“It’s one of my boons. It happens randomly and I can’t control it. Just now it happened to the new guild ability.” Deacon replied sheepishly.
“Share it with me.” Jacob demanded. Deacon did so getting a gasp from Jacob. He instantly stood up and started pacing behind his desk. Once he stopped to say something, pointed at Deacon, and went back to pacing.
“You can’t tell anyone the details of this ability. They are liable to throw you in a dungeon, drug your food, and only make you lucid enough to keep them rich. Do you understand? This conversation doesn’t leave this room. That goes for you too Typhus.” Jacob said clearly struggling to contain his worry.
“Is it that bad? Should we use the potions?” Typhus asked standing up.
“No, that won’t help. Deacon promise you’ll only use it somewhere private. The less people know about this the better.” Jacob replied.
“Sure thing boss.” Deacon replied knowing full well he’s going to use it to make a diamond tree or boulder. Something stupid big that he can put on display in Alfred’s dungeon.
“Here. Grand Master Pai Mei dropped it off for you.” Jacob said handing him a letter. Opened the letter and then handed it to Ralph. Ralph looked at him like he had two heads but took the letter anyway.
“He can’t read.” Typhus snickered.
“It’s not funny.” Deacon snapped at Typhus.
“For the love of…go to the guild shop and get a basic literacy tome. Should be relatively cheap for you.” Jacob said face palming as he sat back into his chair.
“Come on young ins, we need to get going.” Typhus prodded.
“I don’t understand, what just happened?” Tantus asked.
“Deacon disappointed Jacob, again.” Amanda said rising from her seat.
“Ha ha, very funny. Jacob loves me. Don’t you Jacob?” Deacon asked.
“Get out.” Was the only reply he received.
After a brief stop at the Guild Shop, Deacon walked out with two new skill books. One was basic Griffin Kingdom common literacy. The other was a regional atlas for his slate’s map. After the light show of him using the books was over, they were out on the main road on their way to Desentes Keep.
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“So you couldn’t read the shop signs this whole time?” Tantus asked.
“No, I’m only five months old and I came from another world.” Deacon answered.
“Five months?” Tantus asked obvious shock in his voice.
“Let’s not make a big deal out of this ok.” Deacon said.
“How do you read your slate messages?” Ralph asked.
“It appears in the language I’m most familiar with.” Deacon responded.
“That makes sense. I can’t imagine the citizens of the Vasilly Empire read their slate messages in Griffin common.” Ralph said.
“Of course the slates translate to your native tongue. You think the Deep Dwellers grow up speaking Griffin common. It’s a trade language.” Typhus scoffed, “They don’t teach kids anything anymore.”
They made a turn down another street where they heard the sound of raised voices. A man was arguing with a woman outside of a shop. It sounded rather heated. The others started moving to the other side of the street to avoid bumping into them. That’s when the man slapped the woman across the face. Deacon didn’t miss a beat lifting the man up in the air by his jaw with one arm and starring right into his eyes.
“I only want to hear an apology coming out of your mouth when I put you down. Blink twice if you understand me.” Deacon ordered. The man was batting uselessly at Deacon’s arm with his hands. He even tried kicking Deacon in the chest once or twice with no discernable effect.
“Is this man your husband?” Deacon asked.
“No, he is the man I rent from.” She replied with her voice quivering.
“What rental dispute requires a slap to the face?” Deacon asked as the man clawed at Deacons hand trying to break free from his iron grasp.
“Deacon, you have to put him down.” Ralph said.
“Why should I?” Deacon said getting visibly more angry and he began to squeeze.
“Because the guard is here now, and they can oversee this. You have other things to do.” Ralph counseled.
Deacon looked around to see a crowd was forming. He released the wretched man who flopped to the ground on his ass. The woman was already speaking with the town guard when Deacon looked around. He then leaned in real close to the man on the ground who was rubbing his aching jaw.
“I find out you hit her again, I’ll come looking for you.” Deacon said as he made his eyes flash with the pale green light of the Nether Plane. The man just nodded inching back into the gutter as someone dumped out their chamber pot. He then went over to the woman and pressed a silver piece into her palm apologizing for all the trouble. Satisfied, Deacon turned on his heel, nodded to the town guard who snapped him a salute, and caught up with the rest of his party.
It wasn’t long after that they appeared at the gates to Desentes Keep. Armand met them at the entrance to the keep proper. He wasn’t wearing his armor, but he did have the sword Deacon gave him on his left hip. After pleasantries were exchanged, they entered going straight passed the kitchen. Deacon stopped in the doorway to admire the smells. His right shoulder accidentally hit one of the pots hanging from a nail sticking out of a board along the wall. The chef greeted his party and offered a sticky bun to Deacon. He hungrily scarfed it down with Armand telling him to eat it more slowly. All the while the pot on the wall continued to swing back and forth like a pendulum. They could see the kitchens were a buzz of activity. Just as Deacon turned to leave, the pot finally fell off the nail striking a ladle sticking out of a stew pot over the fire. The stew hit Amanda square in the face. Not only that but the whole board it was hanging from shifted weight with everything else on it firing the original nail across the kitchen into the arm of one of the workers. It imbedded itself two whole inches into his shoulder. That forced him to drop the object in his hand to clatter onto the floor. It was a little brown vile of liquid that began pouring onto the floor. Amanda began seizing and collapsed to the ground. Typhus moved like lighting to grab the cooks assistant, while retrieving the bottle as well.
“Who is that!?” Armand asked the head chef who shrugged not recognizing the person.
“Amanda are you ok? Talk to me.” Ralph asked while she began to foam at the mouth. Deacon looked into the stew pot to see it was only half full.
“Did you already serve this?” he asked getting shocked expression from the chef.
“You are known. The empire will have its revenge!” yelled the now captured cook.
“The servants stairs lead up to the dining hall above but it’s a winding passage. The only other way there is the central stair at the end of the hall.” Armand gesticulated with his hands as he spoke. Deacon didn’t wait for him. He stepped up on the central island and jumped. He went intangible as he hit the ceiling clawing his way up. Luckily, the floors weren’t more than eight and half feet thick and managed to come up right under the table.
“Now I have waited for a proper meal like this for days. Where were you hiding the good food Desentes?” Asked Lord Pentecost as he lifted his spoon to dive into the recently delivered bowls of stew. Just then Deacon’s head and shoulders popped up through the table startling the Deep Dwellers, Wotan, Lord Pentecost, Lord Desentes, as well as Eobard Desentes. All the various breads and sundries on the table lifted into the air and were wrapped up in the tablecloth. The tablecloth was unceremoniously flung across the room into the wall with a clatter.
After all the shocked gasps had ended, Deacon was sitting cross legged on the table finishing up the last bite of his sticky bun. As the gathered assembly all turned toward Deacon, he looked at them and said one simple phrase.
“You’re welcome.”