The basement of this particularly fine establishment was Galin's tanning room. It was blessed with the eye-watering reek of ammonia among other foul scents which proved without a doubt that the paltry slatted vents across the tops of the rooms walls weren't up to the job they were tasked with.

"Christ, how do you work in this?"

"It needs airing," He grumbled. "I normally do that at night but I didn't have time before I shut up."

I shook my head, trying not to breathe too deeply as I dragged 17 deeper into the room, dropping him where Galin laid the Mage. Then I took in the room properly. The place was massive. Far bigger than the shop floor above. Stretching racks, knives, and cleavers took up one wall. The other three walls were taken up by barrels, vats and covered baths full of chemicals.

"I bet you got tons of stuff to get rid of bodies down here."

He grimaced. "Sure. Are you okay bringing the rest down while I get to work?"

"Sounds good to me. Quicker we're done with the clean up the sooner I can grab me an ale. I need one after this work out."

He didn't look up as he hauled the mage's limp body up onto a wooden table.

It didn't take me long to get all the bodies down and by the time I'd finished he had the arms and legs removed from the corpses of both the mage and 17. He was in the process of hauling up the next body up, but when I stopped to watch him, he paused and eyed me warily. "Is that them all?"

I nodded.

"You think you could do this one while I clean the floors upstairs? People are going to start asking questions if I'm closed for too long. I can get away with an early lunch but…"

"It's fine" I said holding my hand out for the cleaver. A brief flash of fear crossed his face, but he suppressed it and with hardly any reluctance at all he handed it over.

"It's alright, Galin. I'm not going to attack you with it. I far prefer using my hands."

"Thanks for putting my mind at ease," he said with the dourest expression I'd ever seen on man before he quickly disappeared upstairs.

I turned to my new task. "Well, well, well, 16. We meet again."

I'd never dismembered a corpse before and it seemed like a good thing to learn, so I stopped talking to it and brought the cleaver down with a satisfying crunch into the shoulder joint.

It didn't go half as deep as I'd expected and by the time I finally got the left arm off, I'd worked up a little bit of a sweat. By the time I got his right arm off, Galin was back, walking down the stairs. "I need some sand to soak the blood up." His eyes landed on my handy work and he grimaced. You're not in battle now, Joren. Give." He held his hand out for the cleaver then pointed at my most recent hack into 16's thigh. "Too low. You need to find where the muscles returns to the bone." He pointed a little higher up from where I'd attacked. "And while you want to use power, accuracy is equally important. He brought the cleaver down with far less speed than I did, but his technique meant it sliced deeper into the muscle.

"You can't just use brute strength if you're going to be a Leather worker it requires care."

"This isn't Leather working though. It's butchering."

He frowned. "I thought you had some brains in there, lad. You think leather workers don't have to butcher? It's an integral part of the job."

"Fair enough. Show me how you do the joint then?"

He made a couple more well-placed cuts into the muscle until the joint was visible, then he began working around the joint to clear it with deft precise cuts and an economy of movement I could only marvel at.

Once the joint was almost fully exposed, he moved to the guys foot. I watched with interest as he took a hold of it, with one hand. The muscle in his ham shank of a forearm rippled as he twisted and pulled, and the femur popped out of the socket. He wasted no time moving back around the body to bury the cleaver into the open joint. The remaining ligaments were severed and the leg came free.

"Okay, Galin, that was cool as fuck. I would have just kept smashing the fuckers hip bone till it came loose."

He nodded, grim faced. "I know. Consider that your first lesson."

He lay the cleaver on 15's chest, grabbed a pail of sand from the corner of the room and hurried off without another word.

I got back to work and despite working with far less physical effort, I moved through the rest of the carcass much faster and my second carcass went faster again. As I threw the second torso onto of the growing pile of processed dickheads, I got that funky feeling in my mind that heralded an increase:

Name: Earl Henshaw

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Title: ---

Level: 18

Class: Warrior / Tradesman

Stats:

Toughness – 34 +10

Mental Acuity – 21 + 5

Harmony- 0

Total: 55

Progress in Class:

Warrior Level 31: 16/310

Level 10 Boon: +10 in durability

Level 20 Boon: +5 in reaction speed – Mental Acuity. Bonus points not reflected in level.

Level 30 Boon: +5 in durability based Toughness. Bonus points not reflected in level.

Tradesman Level One: 1 Butcher.

Mage: 0

The speed at which I got the Butcher skill was surprisingly fast but I wasn't about to complain and with the point in Mental Acuity I rubbed my hands together expecting things to go a lot faster now. I wondered if I could get the rest finished before Galin came back down. I could hear him clomping about upstairs, the sound of the wet mop still sloshing around, so I set myself the challenge.

"Shit," I cursed as Galin came back down, having just started on the last body. He raised a bushy red eyebrow in surprise. "I see you can teach a half Grunir new tricks. Impressive, Joren."

"Aye, the wrong fucking tricks. What the hell is going on with me getting the butcher skill? You said it was part of Leatherwork."

"It is," he said taking his mop and bucket to the back of the workshop to pour down a wide chute. "But you'd need to actually work leather first. Once you start, the skill will switch over. Trust me."

"Nice. What if I decide to become a butcher later?"

He eyed me sourly. "Then you'll probably jump the first few levels of butchering if you keep developing at this rate."

"And lose Leatherwork?"

"What hole did you crawl out of Joren? Since when has that been how it's worked."

I grinned. "Think all the blood's gone to my head."

"I think so," he agreed, before upending a barrel onto its side. He then rolled it over to the pile of parts before righting it again. I watched with interest as he unclamped the lid and pulled it free. It was half full with murky gray water and smelled of pretty much nothing. Maybe a vague tangy earthy scent, but it was hard to tell with the other smells of the room.

"What's this?"

"Slaked lime. Good for decomposing bodies. Strip em, then put a pair of the waxed gloves on and start packing the parts inside. And make sure to pack em in tight mind. Push them right to the bottom so they're fully submerged. I'll finish off the butchering and then start a fire for their clothes.

"Any money on them we split," I warned as I threw the cleaver on the blood covered table.

His lip curled into disgust. "You can have it all, I want no part in robbing the dead."

I gave him a thumbs up. "You'll do for me, Galin." I said and got to work on stripping the dismembered limbs and torsos and tossing them in the barrels. As we worked, the bell to the shop rang. Galin shouted up through the floor boards. "Be with you in a minute." He glanced over to me, trying not to look worried as he stripped his gloves and apron off. His clothes underneath were immaculate still.

"How the hell did you manage to do all this and not get covered in blood?"

"The clue is in the Level 26," he replied more irritated than smug. Then lowered his voice to a whisper so whoever was upstairs didn't hear. "Just like how did you manage to kill seven people and were barely out of breath? Though I think your achievement eclipses mine by some margin considering your only a level eighteen warrior. Especially the part where you took fireballs directly to the face and showed no signs of pain or injury."

I flashed him. "Best keep that bit to yourself, Galin. It's a skill I'd rather certain people didn't find out about."

He blanched and stepped back toward the steps. Satisfied he'd gotten the message I got back to stripping body parts.

The sounds of mumbled talking filtered down a few moments later but it mustn't have been important as he was back helping me five minutes later, grumbling about time wasters.

By the time we'd finished I was tired and while I had no other points to show for it, I was pleased with the work. The blood had been washed away through the drains and the barrels all stacked neatly at the back of the room behind other barrels so you would never stumble on them accidentally.

"So will they totally decompose in there?" I asked grabbing my battered coat from one of the stretching racks.

"Not if I just leave them. They'll degrade a fair amount, especially with a good stir in a couple of weeks. More if I warm them up, but I'll probably just transfer what's left into the vinegar vats in a month or so. That should finish the job nicely. Grind up what's left and pour it all down the drain. That's how I get rid of most of my animal carcasses as it's a damn sight cheaper than paying for regular waste collection.

"Grim, but I like it."

"Aye. If I get away with it, you'll have saved me a fortune in the long run. Both stress and money."

"Will anyone miss them?"

"Aye. They were part of Dalgom's gang. Half-ogrid and dumb as a brick so he might believe me."

"A gang, huh? Like a proper gang?"

Galin frowned. "Depends on what you mean by a proper gang. He runs the streets in this area. Fights other gangs about the city and has about twenty men, or he did before today." He gestured to the barrels. "Does that meet your criteria of a gang?"

"I suppose it does," I muttered, my mind ticking into action as I headed for the stairs. "Thaks for letting me know. And if you have any more problems with this Dalgom, let me know."

"Hopefully he'll think the Haska or Raxors did it… You er, might want to leave that coat here. It kinda screams you've been in a bloody battle."

"It's all I've got and it's pissing down outside. That'll raise more questions."

"Right you are. I've got some things upstairs might fit you and I'll get your coat mended for tomorrow."

"You can repair this?" I said holding up the well-worn coat. Loosh had tried to get me to part with it for weeks now as it had been battered a few times and was starting to look real shabby but I'd refused. Getting it repaired was something that hadn't even crossed my mind.

He took it and held it up, grumbling as he inspected it. "Sure we can. It'll need patches for sure, but I can add them so they look like part of the design. Extra pockets if you need them?"

"Could look crap. Show me tomorrow before you add anything like that.

He frowned at my distrust of his skill and dumped the coat on his workbench before leading me upstairs.

Around four hours after entering the shop, I headed back out into the rain in a shapeless poncho of oiled brown leather. I wasn't happy with the lack of pockets provided, and even less happy that I'd had to slip my knives in my belt if I wanted to carry them on my person.

Loosh would be happy, as it had a hood and it wasn't the coat. Unless of course she'd already returned from the Perch and had been waiting hours for me. Then she'd probably be in one of her moods.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.