Asher had already planned on bringing the fight to the assassins based out of Dormaul, and the second attempt on his life in as many days proved that he'd made the right choice. Luckily for the caravan, it seemed whatever skill the assassin possessed that allowed him to turn the wooden wagon into a whirlwind of shrapnel was rather localized, as nobody had been harmed other than himself and Samantha. As such, once Samantha had claimed the assassin's fallen shards and freed Brian from Brant's wagon, the three of them were relocated to one of the empty wagons, and the caravan continued on its way.

When asked if he was planning to do something about this attack, Brant had merely shrugged.

"What do you want me to do, exactly? I guarantee you that man won't have any records of being in any of the official guilds, and he probably isn't even a registered citizen of Dormaul. I could complain to the guards, but it's not like that will do anything. You and I know he was an assassin, but the Guild is largely a myth, despite the fact that all the higher ups know of its existence. This will be treated like a rogue attack, as though a bandit had come at us out of nowhere. I'll get some shards for a new wagon from the Caravan Guild, but that's about all that will happen."

While Asher wasn't a fan of that answer, he certainly understood. There was only so much people could do when the nobles running the city all but protected the Assassin's Guild in order to use it.

No, if anyone was going to do something about the Guild, it was going to have to be him.

"Just be careful," Samantha reminded him, giving him a quick kiss and pulling him in for a tight embrace as he prepared to leave. "At least until you replenish your potions."

"I will be," he said, returning the hug before turning and nearly having the wind knocked out of him by Brian as the twelve-year-old slammed into his midsection. Brian didn't bother to say anything, simply squeezing him with all the strength in his young arms.

"I'll be fine," Asher laughed, ruffling Brian's hair. "I'll be back for dinner!"

Seeing them both nod, Asher focused on the mark he'd left at Helpha's shop, and the world shifted around him in the blink of an eye. Unsurprisingly, the shop appeared to be completely empty, and the torches along the wall had been snuffed out. Based on what he'd heard from the other merchant about how Helpha spent the vast majority of her time mining or forging in different locations, he figured he should get used to the shop being empty whenever he showed up.

Seeing as he was planning to use her shop as a landing point for the entire city without even asking, he supposed that actually worked out pretty well for him.

Alright, even if Owl is continuing to follow the caravan, that should give him the slip, Asher thought, slipping out of the store via the astral as he tried to decide his next move. Samantha was going to stay within the caravan the entire time he was gone, pretending as if the two of them were simply spending the majority of the trip relaxing inside with one another. Hopefully, that would prevent Owl from discovering his disappearance.

Otherwise, he had a feeling the deadly Knuckle might have something to say about his plan to decimate Dormaul's Assassin's Guild.

Though he had some problems he needed to solve before that happened. Such as figuring out where on Earth the Guild even was in this city.

Asher frowned as he merged with the flow of people wandering about the third level. In a way, he felt as if he was back to where he'd started in Whikoga. He needed to find the whereabouts of the Guild, but he had no idea where to even begin. Only this time, rather than nobody knowing he was even alive, the Head had already put out some form of hit on him. He could simply wander around and wait for the next attempt on his life, but he preferred being a bit more proactive than that.

Suddenly, an errant thought struck his head, and he paused, ignoring the grumbling people who were forced to walk around him as he stood there.

I might not have the skills required to find the Guild… But I bet I can find someone who does.

Back in Whikoga, he'd had the thought of trying to hire Rulfar the Hound in order to track down the Guild's whereabouts. Sadly, the idea had been a bust after learning that the man had left the city for greener pastures upon learning Loratta's gang had been wiped out. While Rulfar had made his dislike of the gang leader clear, she had made up a significant portion of his work, and the professional bloodhound didn't have too many other options available to him. Asher had briefly contemplated reaching out to some other random tracker for assistance, but seeing as he'd been trying to lay low and not reveal he was still alive, he'd decided it was probably for the best that he didn't involve any strangers in his hunt for the Guild anyway.

This time, however, the Guild was already well aware of his existence. Other than a few shards, he had quite literally nothing to lose bringing on a stranger with a more appropriate skillset to help him out.

"Excuse me," he asked one of the nearby guards, getting a grunt of acknowledgement in return. "Do you know where I could find a bloodhound? Is there a guild for that or something?"

"You need a seeker?" the guard asked, giving him a cautious look. "Finding people is all well and good, just be warned that if you have any nefarious intentions, hiring a seeker beforehand all but guarantees you'll be hit with a harsher crime for it being premeditative."

"Understood, thanks for the warning. Even so, could you point me in their direction?"

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

In the end, it turned out there wasn't any sort of official seeker guild. However, the guard confirmed that they occasionally hired trusted individuals to help them find specific criminals, and he was able to give him the name of a few taverns where said individuals tended to congregate. Asher thanked him for the lead, before hopping onto one of the ziplines and shooting down to the fourth level.

The first tavern on his list didn't pan out, but the second, a slightly seedy looking place known as The Broken Pickaxe, was exactly what he was looking for.

Asher strolled through the crooked doors, ducking under the quite literal broken pickaxe hanging from the ceiling as he did so, before straightening and looking around. While it wasn't the worst tavern he'd ever seen, he could tell at a single glance that this was not a place for the faint of heart.

Large men and women were drinking heavily at the bar, and rambunctious laughter permeated the air from all corners of the room. A quick sweep with Identify and Judgement working in tandem told him all he needed to know about the rowdy crowd.

Still, nobody had the assassin class, which was a good sign.

Walking over to one of the tables containing two men and a woman throwing dice, he cleared his throat. "Any chance one of you is available for hire?"

The three strangers paused their game, turning to look him up and down. Each of their gazes were hard and sharp, and Asher could practically feel their assorted skills straining to try and break through his Hidden Presence. They wore odd assortments of heavy clothing that concealed bits of armor here and there, and each one of them looked more than capable of handling themselves in a fight based on their multitude of scars and weapons kept at the ready.

[Tracker] - 2/3 Elements

[Seeker] - 2/3 Elements

[Tracker] - 1/3 Elements

Identify - Lvl 27

"That depends," the tracker with two elements said slowly, annoyance clear on his face when his skills failed to give him the information he wanted. "What are you looking for?"

"Not what, but who," Asher said, turning his gaze specifically on the seeker. Unlike the two trackers, who both had rather questionable, splotchy auras that felt almost uncertain, the seeker had a reddish-gold aura that looked like a thick chain wrapped around him. Asher got the sense that this was a man of conviction, someone who would never go back against a client who had hired him. "I'm looking for the companions of a man who attacked me yesterday. An assassin."

The moment the words left his lips, the tracker with only a single element shook her head, pushing her chair back as she got up and left without a word. Clearly, she understood what Asher was asking, and she wanted nothing to do with the Guild.

Smart choice, in his opinion.

"You want someone to help you track down the Guild?" the remaining tracker asked, smirking at him. "You're hilarious, kid. Why don't you go run off and try your luck at the mines? Less likely to have your throat slit down there."

"Do you feel the same?" Asher asked, staring down the seeker who had yet to say a single word. Despite being a tad smaller than his two companions, the seeker felt almost like a coiled spring, ready to strike. He had distinctly fewer scars and signs of old injuries than the other two, but Asher didn't know if that meant he was less experienced, or was simply better than the trackers.

"He doesn't speak for me," the seeker said, his fingers drumming on the table as he stared Asher down. "What's your end goal? I need to know if I'll have to flee the city afterward."

"My end goal is my business, but yeah, fleeing the city would be a good idea," Asher admitted, deciding to be honest.

"That will cost extra," the seeker said, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. "Names Miles. Seeker. But I bet you already knew that."

"Asher. Assassin," he said, earning a surprised look from his newest hire. "I'm from out of town."

"Not my style to ask about inter-Guild business," Miles said, holding up his hands. "Also not my style to talk business in the middle of a bustling tavern. Follow me. I'll bring you to my office, and we can nail down details there. But I'll tell you right now, if you don't have enough shards and are planning to waste my time, we're gonna have a problem."

"Lead the way," Asher smiled, taking a step back and motioning him forward.

Miles grunted, but the seeker did exactly that, heading out into the crowded fourth level and shouldering his way through everyone with little care for being polite. Asher followed along behind him, trying to be slightly more gentle as he made his way through the crowd.

While he, Samantha, and Brian had spent some time zipping around the fourth level on those entertaining boards, the city was large enough that they hadn't explored even a fraction of the entire level. As Miles led him deeper and deeper into the fourth level, Asher quickly discovered Dormaul had its own slums just as Whikoga had.

Buildings were ramshackle and decrepit, holding themselves together by little more than hope and prayer. People looked disheveled and dirty, and he saw more than one group of injured miners sitting around, lamenting their woes as they drank their afternoons away. The occasional child ran past, their keen eyes sweeping the ever-thinning crowd for easy targets. Whenever they spotted him and Miles, they quickly made themselves scarce.

Nice to see the flaws in this kingdom just never end, Asher thought, frowning at the sight of an older man nibbling on a rat he'd just caught. In a way, Dormaul's slums were even more depressing than Whikoga's, as a large part of them didn't even get any natural sunlight. Only half of the fourth level was open to the fresh air, and with the overhead sun blocked by the upper levels, a large chunk of the slums was shrouded in shadows, poorly lit by the infrequent glowing gemstones attached to the ceiling far above.

Finally, just as he was beginning to wonder if Miles was planning on leading him into some sort of trap, they reached their destination. "In here," Miles said, pulling out a key and letting himself into a small building that was little more than a secure shed. More curious than anything, Asher followed him inside, looking around as Miles locked the door behind them once more.

The building was in fact a single office, one that largely reminded him of the old black and white private eye movies from back on Earth. The fact that Miles collapsed into a seat behind his desk and began smoking something that looked like a twisted cigar didn't help.

"Take a seat," Miles instructed, blowing out a corkscrew of blue-tinted smoke of all things while waving at the only other chair in the room. One that was distinctly smaller and less comfortable looking than his own. As Asher did so, Miles leaned across his desk, tapping his strange cigar against the wood as he gave him a hungry look.

"Now then, let's talk business."

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