When Vee had been five or six years old, he’d cooked up a scheme to steal sugar cubes from the family kitchen. Knowing that they were tucked away on a shelf where his little hands couldn’t reach, Vee had recruited Alforde, one of the family’s armorsouls, to assist him in the endeavor. It took some whining and wheedling, but eventually he’d convinced the quiet and bookish armorsoul to take part in his plan. It’d been his threat to cry that finally succeed.

The newly-minted partners waited until after the last of the [Cooks] and [Maids] went out to take their afternoon break before beginning their dinner preparations, and then Vee led Alforde inside and pointed to his target.

“Lift me up there,” he’d said with all the confidence of a young child getting into mischief.

Alford had balked, but ultimately obliged when Vee threatened to cry once again. Setting the young boy up on his right pauldron, the armorsoul reached forward and opened the cabinet. Dry goods and spices filled the shelves, but Vee only had eyes for the glass jar on the far right shelf. With a grin as wide as a door, young Vee had shoveled sugar cubes into the small sack he’d brought along, stuffing even more into his pockets and the fold of his shirt when the sack got full.

Alforde pointed out that such a large number of missing sugar cubes would most certainly be noticed by the staff – probably before the end of the day, in all likelihood – but Vee insisted it would be fine. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought that far ahead and simply wanted as many delicious treats as he could get his hands on.

The plan worked flawlessly, until Vee’s mother, who hadn’t grown up with servants and never truly got used to having them, snuck into the kitchen to brew herself a cup of tea. At first, she’d been shocked at the sight of her precariously perched youngest son stuffing a pair of sugar cubes into his mouth as he reached for more, but her surprise was short lived.

”VEE VALES, YOU GET DOWN FROM THERE THIS INSTANT,” she’d shrieked as she bolted across the room, grabbing him to make sure that he didn’t fall. “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, YOUNG MAN?!”

That’d been the worst spanking Vee ever got, and as the [Dungeon Master] stared at Rortenferry’s furious expression, he felt an uncanny sense of déjà vu. The older man was mad.

The [Professor] folded his arms across his chest.

“Are you even aware of what you’ve been sending out into the ethereal?” When Vee shook his head, the [Professor] steepled his hands and closed his eyes.

“Of course you aren’t,” he said with a defeated sigh. “Allow me to show you, then.”

A vermilion tide of fear, frustration, and loneliness crashed through the ethereal, snapping and snarling like a wounded pig-shambler as it filled every corner of the room. Its spiritual weight was so great that Vee was forced back a few steps until he could properly collect himself and brace his will against it.

Though the demonstration didn’t last for long, Vee found himself more than a little embarrassed when the energy finally dissipated.

“I’m sorry, I had no idea,” he said. “That must have been extremely distracting.”

Rortenferry shrugged, and his temper seemed to wane a bit. “It is what it is, lad,” he said. “Most [Ghost Maestros] tend to be unaware of their impact on the ethereal. It’s reasonable for you to be the same way. However, I do find myself growing weary of having to recalibrate my tools twice a day or more because of your inner turmoil. So tell me, what exactly is it that has you all bothered, my boy? Perhaps this old man can be of some assistance in fixing it.”

And so, Vee told him what’d happened. His voice was shaky and halting as he went through Reginald’s first warnings about Alforde and the changes to his friend’s behavior. He finished with the description of his fight with the armorsoul outside the city gate, and found that there was a tiny lump in his throat at the recollection of losing his temper at the end. He swallowed hard, and it went away. Mostly.

Thankfully, Rortenferry was a good listener, never interrupting, and he gave Vee a fatherly clap on the shoulder when the [Dungeon Master] finished his tale.

“You have my sympathies,” Rortenferry said softly. “For however much they’re worth. You two have been bonded for most of your life, right?”

“Since I was five or six,” Vee said, thinking once again about the aftermath of stolen sugar cubes and his mother’s stern disapproval.

“Well, in that case, I’d suggest trying to make up sooner than later,” Rortenferry said. “So long as you approach him honestly and respectfully, I’d be surprised if you didn’t make some degree of progress toward repairing your relationship. After all, a wound like the one you’ve described is easy enough to fix, provided that it’s not given time to rot and fester.”

“Yeah, I was planning to go and try talking to him after today’s runs,” Vee said. “But I don’t know what to say.”

Rortenferry’s lips curled, but the expression wasn’t really something that was suitable to be called a smile. A bittersweet acknowledgement was more fitting, perhaps.

“That’s the tricky part, isn’t it?” he said softly. “Truly, finding the best words at any given time is a skill few people have. However, I’ve always believed that for things like this, the simple act of trying is enough to make up for any deficiencies in execution. Say whatever you can, Vee. It will probably be enough. Best of luck, lad.”

The other [Ghost Maestro] left as Reginald’s voice echoed out from somewhere in the dungeon. The hat announced that the day’s runs were starting, and Vee sat down at his desk. He had no interest in handling the traps or using [Boost Drops] that day, wanting only to distract himself until the adventurers were all finished.

His isolation was surprisingly cathartic, as he poked at some ectoplasm that he’d left stretched out on one of his desks. Originally, he’d intended for it to be a piece of armor for Mr. Chills, but he found that it was stiff and brittle. He wasn’t entirely sure why. However, instead of being supple and bending in his hands when he applied pressure to its sides, the piece of ectoplasm snapped.

Honestly, it was kind of a satisfying sensation, and Vee broke the sheet into even smaller pieces, not caring how they cracked as he did so. Taking the broken pieces, Vee stacked them atop one another until they formed a tiny tower. He stared at it for a moment, trying to imagine a use for it in the dungeon. Ultimately he came up short. The ectoplasm was interesting, but it was far too brittle for any practical purposes. He set the creation aside. Maybe it’d find a use elsewhere. One never knew with such things.

The hours ticked by, and Vee did his best to avoid paying attention to Reginald’s announcements as the adventurers completed their runs. Instead, he tinkered with some of the other experiments in his lab, forcing himself to make a few dozen lesser ghosts to replace the ones that’d been destroyed by the adventurers. He gave them minor elemental resistances, and also worked on incorporating another type of attack into their sigilmancy orders. The ghosts were crude, but they’d be more of a threat than the ones he bought from the union and good for filling out packs with some more variety. Plus, the practice was good for his ambition for improving Mr. Chills, so it came with an added bonus.

Though he still felt vaguely nauseous when Reginald’s voice echoed through the lab and announced the day’s final run, Vee forced himself to get up and head down to the dungeon. It was time to talk to Alforde.

Standing outside Crestheart, Vee heard Reginald’s jibes and banter as the adventurer made her way through the rooms and halls. Despite his nerves, Vee couldn’t help but chuckle at a few of the hat’s barbs while he waited.

“And that’s it!” Reginald cried. “Mr. Chills has defeated another adventurer! Excellent effort out there! Come on back when you’ve gotten a little stronger!”

A little bit later, the hat’s voice came out through the speaker near the door.

“Alright, Boss. It’s all clear in there. Good luck with the big guy, and try not to lose your temper this time.”

“I know,” Vee said. “Thanks.”

Taking a deep breath, Vee opened the door and walked inside.

Though he’d seen the debris that followed runs many times from up in the tower, he was still shocked at the sight as he walked through Crestheart. Truly, being up so close was an entirely different experience. The walls were a mess, and there were bits of bone, slime and ectoplasm all over the floor. Beyond that, there were fractured pieces of frost elementals and patches of wet ground from where various traps had melted, too. Vee’s shoes crunched and squished as he made his way down to the champion’s arena, and the [Dungeon Master] felt a fresh appreciation for his [Dungeon Maintainers] with every step. They really outdid themselves, keeping Crestheart so neat between runs.

The door to the arena seemed even bigger and more forbidding than it normally did, and Vee took a deep breath as he pushed it open. Or, well, tried to push it open. At first, it really didn’t want to budge, but Vee dug in and pressed harder until it moved, happy that he didn’t have to resort to using [Walking Walls] in order to get through. That would have just been embarrassing.

Alforde was sitting cross-legged on the floor on the far side of the room. His helmet was tilted up and he was staring at the ceiling, with Slammy a few feet away on the platform. At the sound of the door creaking open, he jumped to his feet and snatched up his weapon, only to stop and look mildly disappointed – and somewhat relieved – when he saw that it wasn’t a challenger.

“What are you doing down here, Vee?”

“Hi to you, too,” Vee said as he strode into the room. Tucking his hands into his pockets and willing himself to stay in control of his temper no matter what his friend said, the [Dungeon Master] walked across the thin bridge leading to the platform in the center and looked up at Alforde.

On the way down to the arena, Vee had thought up a bunch of ways to start the conversation, but of course not a single one of them was to be found in the moment, so he simply said, “I think we should talk.”

Alforde shrugged and lifted Slammy to his pauldrons. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

Well, that wasn’t much help in getting the conversation ball rolling, but it wasn’t outright hostility either. Vee decided that he’d take it.

“I’m not going to mince words. These last few days have sucked,” Vee said. “Big time.”

“Yeah, they have,” Alforde agreed. The armorsoul seemed to relax a little bit, his pauldrons sinking, and Vee felt the tension in his own shoulders ease ever so slightly.

So far, the ultra-direct approach was working, somewhat, so Vee saw no reason to abandon it.

“Have you thought about what I said the other day?” Vee asked. “I probably could have phrased it better, but I stand by the points I made.”

After a moment, Alforde nodded.

“I have,” the armorsoul said. “but I’m not sure what I think, yet. I’ve been looking back on the past few weeks, and there have definitely been some moments that seem unusual in retrospect. However, I don’t know if unusual is inherently bad. My instincts have gotten sharper, and in many ways I’m a better [Dungeon Champion] for it, but there have also been moments where I didn’t entirely feel in control of my thoughts or behavior. My situation is...complicated, and I’ll continue to consider it in the days to come."

His voice softened. "While I’m not sure I completely agree with you yet, I don’t think you’re dead wrong anymore, either. I know that you meant well when you brought it up.”

Vee ran a hand through his hair. Alforde’s statement wasn’t the absolute forgiveness he'd secretly hoped for - or even much forgiveness at all - but it was something. A step in the right direction at the very least. The bond between the [Ghost Maestro] and his [Right Hand Man] flickered to life for a moment, but faded soon after, and Vee decided that there was nothing to gain from pushing the matter any further. Alforde would carefully consider the situation, as he did. Eventually, he'd come to a decision on his own.

“Well, when you want to talk about what you’ve decided, let me know, okay?” Vee said.

Alforde’s eyes brightened and his helmet slid forward a tiny bit.

“I will, Vee. Thanks.”

[Leadership +1]

With the conversation over, the pair left the arena and brought the day’s earnings up to the office. Vee counted the coins mechanically, adding the nearly seventeen hundred silver fleurs of profit to the vault. Tomorrow was collection day, and Vee was starting to feel a little nervous about the speed at which the fee was increasing.

He hoped that the dungeon would be able to keep up.

Main Character Sheets:

Main Character Sheets:

Vee Vales

Primary Class: Ghost Maestro (Locksmagister University), Level 28

Secondary Class: Dungeon Master (Oar’s Crest), Level 18

Tertiary Class: Guy-Who-Takes-Things-WAY-Too-Far (Self), Level 5

Might: 12

Wit: 31

Faith: 21

Adventurousness: 7

Ambition: 14

Plotting: 18

Charisma: 12

Devious Mind: 22

Leadership: 16 (+1)

Guts: 13

Intimidating Presence: 9

Citizenship: 20

Public Relations: 6

Determination: 1

Alforde Armorsoul:

Primary Class: Hammer Afficionado (Self), Level 21

Secondary Class: Right-hand man (Vee Vales), Level 11

Tertiary Class: Dungeon Champion (Oar’s Crest), Level 14

Additional Class: Glaciernaut (Sacha Silverblade), Level 4

Might: 39

Wit: 12

Faith: 26

Adventurousness (Bound – Vee Vales): 8

Endurance: 19

Intimidating Presence: 12 (-1)

Heart of a Champion: 5

Citizenship (Bound – Vee Vales): 8

Vigilance: 6

Vanity: 3 (-1)

Reginald:

Primary Class: Core Spirit (Unknown), Level ???

--~%@(%[email protected] &% (*$ #&#e !i$$ (#$%#$%#[email protected]!)~--, #[email protected]& ????

Secondary Class: Loudmouth (Self), Level 38

Tertiary Class: Majordomo (Vee Vales), Level 15

Additional Class: Announcer (Vee Vales), Level 8

Might: 1

Wit: 32

Faith: 12 (+1)

Ambition: 27

Greed: 22

Deceptiveness: 27 (-1)

Manipulativeness: 36

$#&*[email protected]!!

Loyalty: 46

Patience: 9

[#&%%%@%!#@__--#%]

%^(@#!! @#[email protected][email protected]#

Citizenship (Bound – Vee Vales): 7