I want it.... I want it. I want it. I want it.

I FUCKING WANT IT!!!

It's not a fancy gun. Nor those magical potions and enchanted items. Not even the fucking 'Rare' quality magical sword calls to me like it.

A toolbox. A fucking toolbox. A complete toolbox for the complete handyman.

I. FUCKING. WANT. IT.

"You got a good eye there. It's one of our limited-edition 'Complete Craftsman's Toolbox'. It has every tool that any craftsman will ever need."

My Toolbox of the Craftsman is pushing me to just fucking grab it and run.

Calm down, big boy. We'll have it, sooner or later.

"How much for it?"

"For you my friend? It's free. A thank you for dealing with monsters that prey on us humans."

"Really?" Calm you horses, boyo. We already have it.

"Take it. It's yours."

And I grabbed the box.

Whoa boy, take a chill pill. Don't absorb it right now! We need to get somewhere secluded before we do that.

"Thank you. I've been looking for good tools. I've been meaning to take up crafting. This is perfect for my needs."

"A craftsman after my own heart. I see it in your eyes. I hope I'll see your creations in the future."

"You'll be the first one to see my creations."

"I'll hold you to that. Now...."

==================================================

"So Hardin has really done it." Caleb "Damn buggering hell! Only thing that saved the shipment is the client insisted on sending his people to guard it."

"Yeah. If not for them, we would not be here to tell the tale."

"By God... are you all right, my boy? Damn Hardin and his greed."

"I'm fine. I feel great... not even a scratch."

"Yes. I'm thankful to God that you three came back safe and sound. Bruce and Mike are injured, but they'll live. As for you, I'm glad nothing happened to you."

"Yeah well... I was not immediately mobbed by the gangers. That's a huge mistake on their part."

"It was dangerous, kid. I really don't want you guys fighting any of them. Especially with them carrying guns."

"I know, but still... we finished the job. And we have a very satisfied client. Plus, Hardin is now in hot water. The bobbies now have proof that he has contact with the... 'people' that attacked Westminster Abbey."

"The constable told me as such. Is Hardin not satisfied with the power he has? He had made bloody deals with murderers and terrorists. Not only that... those two men you killed? They have outstanding bounties on their head."

"Hardin now has one too. Buggering wanker had it coming. Now he learns that his actions have consequences."

"It was us or them. I don't want to kill them... but they forced my hand."

"Killing someone is a burden that will be carried in the soul forever. And you to experience such burden at a young age, I shudder at what madness grips our world."

"I regret killing them. But I won't regret the lives I saved by killing them."

"I know, Henry." Caleb patted me in the shoulder. "I know."

==================================================

With the 'Complete Craftsman's Toolbox' integrated with my Toolbox of the Craftsman, I now have the ability craft almost any item I can think of. I now only need a sturdy worktable with attached vise, a forge and an anvil, a rack for tanning leather, several vats for containing chemicals, and chemistry equipment. Crafting on the fly? Check. Craft and forget? Check. Portable crafting workstation that includes every manner of tool and equipment for crafting? No check yet, but it will be.

I'm still limited in my crafting capabilities. No metal forging or any crafting that requires very high heat. No elaborate chemical reactions. No processing of raw materials.

But... I can easily find the tools and equipment I lack. Some of the dockworkers know where I can find the bulkier equipment. Gerry has a contact that can sell me chemistry equipment.

Now I have access to several tools and consumables. Caltrops instead of glass and metal shards. A scrap wood and metal barricade that can double as a shield as replacement for the mattress. A container chest for carrying my inventory to replace my poor blanket. Molotov cocktails.

I also spent 10 Essence Points to upgrade my Pouch Belt to increase its bonus slots to 2. Now my Pockets of the Scavenger has 6 slots. First slot is my large chest that holds my inventory. Second is the scrap wood and metal barricade. Third contains my Whiptail. Fourth not has several caltrops for easy access. Fifth slot has my Molotovs. There's very few thing you can't kill with fire. And my last slot contains acid bottles. If you can't kill it with fire, melt them down.

And Aunt Marge's knocking already. It's a new day today. Got work to do.

==================================================

"You wanted to check out the warehouse where we store unclaimed shipments?"

"Yes. Isn't it a waste of space to just let those item stay and occupy valuable storage area? Or even sell them off and recoup some of the costs we incurred on transporting them."

"You're quite right about that. We could use the space and the losses we took when the clients didn't pay for the items is a small but significant hit on our profits."

"How about it? We get some of the guys to sort it out, check if the items are still good. Then sell them off. We could organize a clearance sale to dispose of them and make a profit."

"And if the items' owners came and complained about us selling their goods?"

"Then they either pay for the shipping and get their goods or forfeit them. We even sue them for not paying their dues. Even charge for storing their goods longer than expected."

"I like what you're planning, me boy. How about you, Caleb?"

"It is a fine proposal. Alright, get some call in some of day-off workers. Standard pay, they'll be jumping at the chance to earn some money. Henry, you're in charge of it."

"Can I 'reserve' some of the items? I would like to obtain some of the items. I'll pay for the value of the items I'll take."

"Of course, you can."

"Thanks."

HAHA! My Toolbox of the Craftsman is nearing completion! Only thing missing is the chemistry set from Gerry and some specialized tools that I can do without.

Oh my Toolbox is quite happy. Yes it is....

Great... now I'm talking to my own power. What's next, discussing my thoughts with imaginary people that somehow read my life story in a novel?

I really need to get some friends.

==================================================

The 'Lion and the Dragon' Pub. More like a den of hyenas and pit of vipers. If there is a Victorian Goth club, then this is it. Dreary atmosphere, dim lighting, furnishing are a bit on the drab side. Yep, it's a fucking Goth-themed Victorian nightclub.

I gave my password to the barman, who pointed me to a half-hidden door on a walkway to the left of the bar. The crowd is really unwelcoming, dirty looks and suspicious gazes followed me while I was in there.

"Get inside." A scarred face answered my knock on the door. Then I was led inside.

The room with nothing more than a large storeroom. There was no furniture expect for a large table and several wooden chairs. Lanterns dimly illuminate the room, casting shadows in the corners of the room.

I positioned myself in one of those shadowy corners. Can never be too careful.

The man who let me inside was something quite different. He's wearing an impeccable Victorian-era suit, but his head is clean shaven. No hair, no beard or mustache. Nothing. Only thing that covers his entire head... are scars. Cuts on his every part of his face, even on the bald dome of his head. And his neck my have a bite mark or two. I can't really determine due to it covered with the high collar of his suit.

"And that makes it thirteen. Quite a record we now have." A woman scantily clad in a provocative scarlet dress addressed us. Rosy skin tantalizing any male who gazes upon it. A body to die for... voluptuous breasts, narrow waist, wide hips, and long shapely face. Topped with a lovely heart shaped face. Luscious red lips, a straight and delicate nose, almond shaped eyes with emerald irises framed by long eyelashes. Gorgeous blood-red hair that reaches to her lovely butt. And a voice that oozes of sensuality and seduction, like a siren's call.

In short... a sex goddess on earth.

Down boy... we're here for answers, not whores.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen. You are here because you have seen things. Things that lurk in the dark. Things that should only exists in nightmare. Things that would make even a grown man cower and beg for his mother." The scarred man spoke.

"But instead of looking away, you looked even deeper. You have decided to keep your eyes open and seek the truth. Some more idiotically than others." The scarlet woman spoke and then glanced to ones of the females. A young girl with braided auburn hair and freckle-dotted face flushed angrily but kept silent.

"Now here you are. You can no longer keep silent. You can no longer ignore the things you have seen. You came here, seeking answers to questions that burn in your minds." The scarred man continues. "But be warned. This is your last chance to walk away. To turn your back on the things you have seen. To never truly know."

"If you continue on this path, then you risk your own lives. Even coming here is a risk. Leave and mingle with the patrons on the main area... with luck you might escape 'their' notice."

"I am Tasha. My companion here is Pierre. We are... agents of a 'organization'. The things we will now reveal to you are but the surface of a very deep... and very dark ocean. If you are weak of heart or soft of soul, then turn away. Once you gaze upon its surface, you can never unsee it. Only madness waits once you delve deeper into the abyss."

"Quite a speech there, luv. Poetic, even." a man replied sarcastically. His slightly unruly black hair and stubbly face made him come off as roguish in the lantern light.

Pierre the scarred man replied acidly.

"Then let me it less fancy. Once you're in, there's no turning back. The things we'll show you will haunt your dreams. And every answer has a price. You can't pay? Then fucking leave."

Then one of the men in seating around the table stood up. Huh... didn't see him there. He's an old man; a face full of wrinkles and hair as pure white as snow. He's wearing a black robe that looks like a cassock and holding a large, thick book. A priest maybe... but I see no white collar on his neck.

"I can no longer turn back... I have nothing to return to. Speak your secrets... I already have paid the price." He said. The entire group became contemplative. Silence filled the room. Even a few of them nodded at the words he uttered.

"Then you have accepted the price and had been warned. Very well then... if that is your choice then so be it." Tasha answered "Londinium... the world is not what you think it is. It's not once this reality that you live in. The world has layers, like the pages of a book. And in the lower layers... there 'they' exist. You have seen what these things are. Beasts that feed on human flesh. Monsters that slake their thirst with human blood. Human corpses turned into flesh puppets by hostile an malevolent spirits. Other people using the darkest of arts to sow mayhem and anarchy."

"The massacre on Greenwich Market?" One of the females asked nervously. Pierre grimaced.

"The flooding at the south market allowed some... creatures to move north. Drowned Men, specifically. Greenwich Market was too close to their new lair and too much of a tantalizing target for them to escape their notice."

Hmmm... Drowned Men. Zombies maybe or.... Lovecraft, you motherfucking sonofabitch. It's fucking Innsmouth, isn't it?

"Something that you will learn more about for later." Tasha interrupted. "But for now let us continue."

"The most common... and the dangerous threat to Londinium are the Boundaries. Unseen lines that mark the territories of the 4 most powerful faction of the supernatural. These four factions wage war with each other vying for control of London. Their purpose is doing so is unknown, but we intend to find out. Also, I have to be the bearer of bad news. Humanity is not one of those 4 main faction. We are not even a part of one of them."

"Because to them, we are worth nothing more than livestock to be consumed anytime they like.Or cannon fodder and sport for their armies."

The places we have any semblance of control are certain points and out-of-the-way areas of London. Even then... minor players in the game try to wrestle control of these places from us. And they're winning."

"I shall tell you more about the 4 main factions." Tasha interrupts Pierre once again.

"First, the Aragul. Fleshshapers. Their mastery of twisting flesh and perverting life is unparalleled. Their favorite forms are amalgamations of wild beasts and humans. They even make deals with humans and brand them with mark that allow them to take these forms. But there's price for this power. The transformation granted by these marks slowly corrode the user's mind, until they become nothing more than slavering beasts shackled to the Aragul's control."

Bloody Wulverns. The Aragul might be the source of those abominations. Have to ask Gerry and the Strange Voice in my Head for more info later.

"Next, the Vranitch. Servants of Chaos and the Primordial Evil. Very little is known of them. They appear mostly in the darkness of the night, but can also manifest in the shadowy corner where light doesn't shine. Their forms are even made of mist and darkness itself. And they hunt us humans for our flesh, since they can't completely exist in this layer without substance. And our flesh give them that substance. They seek to undermine this world by creating portals to their layer, allowing them to manifest unmolested into the waking world."

The monster who chased me on my first night here. It's a part of that Vranitch faction.

"Third is the Orkutz. The undead. They seek immortality through unlife. They spread death and plague. And they are willing to kill every living thing that exists. Because they believe that when all life is extinguished, then they will reach infinity."

Oh great... necromancers and their ilk. I'll need lots of Molotovs to deal with corpses.

"And last, but not the least... Wertiga." At this word, Tasha's face hardens. "Night demons, blood drinkers...."

"Vampires. Or so they claim. But they are very far from the legend they present. Beautiful men and women who lure others and then slake their thirst from their jugular. They are nothing but ugly misshapen being hiding inside the human skins of their past victims." Pierre interjected.

So those two wearing "Human Skin Disguises' are vampires. Either Tasha and Pierre don't know about them... or they'll serve as object lessons later.

This might turn bad. I better keep an eye out.

"Vampires... that makes SO much sense." A man with shifty eyes and slightly hunched posture scoffs. That sets Tasha off.

"Bet you're one of those people who will believe it when they see it with their own eyes. Good thing we have a demonstration for tonight."

And then she pulls out a MASSIVE warhammer from underneath her skirt.

WFT!!! What the hell are you hiding down there? That thing is huge! Its head is bigger than mine!

Now I'm both repulsed... and intrigued on what you're hiding down there.

The hammer glowed a bright blue. And then she point the warhammer at the women's side of the table. Right onto the... 'woman?'... that wore a 'Human Skin Disguise'.

The 'woman' let off an unearthly wail. Then her 'skin'... her disguise began to melt off her body.

Then other one who wore a disguise pounced on the girl... or tried to.

"LASSO!" I wrapped him?... it... with my Whiptail.

Now I only need a snazzy ninja outfit with mask and I can do a Scorpion impersonation.

Then Pierre pummeled it with his gauntlets. Gauntlets I didn't see where it came from. Gauntlets made with silvery metal.

Gauntlets that is now wreathed in silvery fire.

Oh fuck... the stench of burning monster is fucking awful!

"You missed one."

"I didn't. I want to check out Gerhardt's recruit."

"This kid the one who killed a Bloody Wulvern by himself. Quite impressive for a new recruit."

"Much more impressive is that he gave us a chance to recover an intact and unused Black Mark." Gerry interrupted. "Tasha, keep your specimen alive. This is a good chance to study a live Wertiga. Pierre, just the thing out of its misery. We're not monsters."

"This... things don't even have a year between them." Tasha replied.

"And how many live Wertiga do we have? Even newborns are important to researching their weaknesses."

"Fine. But you owe me old man."

"Pierre...."

"Ruining my fun, old man."

Then the flames on Pierre's gauntlet became much brighter and large, enveloping the Wertiga he's holding. I immediately released it from my Whiptail.

Nothing was left of the Wertiga. Except for dust. I'll have check that if anything's left for me to loot.

And the rest of the group nearly went into hysterics. Only keeping them calm is the perceived danger of pissing off the two.

Tasha then rushed to the Wertiga that she targeted earlier. She then slammed the monster down the floor and weighted it down with her warhammer. It writhed and flailed to no avail.

The beast was a horrible thing to behold.

Its body is thin and gangly, like a caricature of a malnourished baboon standing upright. Its skin is hidden under a thick layer of black matted hair or fur. The stomach is paunchy and bloated, quite a contrast to its body. Its hands and feet sporting long and sharp nails on each finger and toe. And the face... well, not even a mother would love that face. It looks like a vampire bat's face, only made larger and more humanoid. Huge ears jut from both sides of its head, sticking up top. A mouth that can open itself up to its ears, filled with wickedly sharp teeth. The nose is nothing more than 2 large holes in the middle of its face.

The eyes... they convey so much hatred and malice. Not even its predicament stopped its cruel stare.

I wonder if you'll still have that look when you're being flayed alive.

"Behold... a Wertiga. A new born one, it looks like. Not even a year old... no, mostly like a few months old or younger." Gerry spoke.

"You won't... interrogate it? the roguish man stuttered out.

"No need. They are fiercely loyal to their race. A very rigid hierarchy based on age. And even then, these are newborn. They won't sent valuable members on death missions." Pierre answered.

"We only allowed inside here as a demonstration. Only reason this one's alive is that Uncle Gerry here, wants an intact one for experimentation. Does this satisfy your disbelief, or I need to do more... demonstrations to prove our point."

"Where can we buy such nice toys?" The shifty-eyed man spoke while pointing at Tasha's warhammer.

"Join us and you may be able to get your own toys."

"You don't need to make a decision now. In three days we'll meet again at St. Giles. That will be a more official initiation than this. This meeting is a merely a test whether you can be recruited or not."

"And in what capacity can we be recruited. Do we need to fight like you?" The roguish man asked.

"Depends of what your skills and capabilities are. Traders or information brokers have minimal access or support, unless what you're selling is very important to the organization. Freelancers are welcome too. But they will not have access to the best items that the organization has. Members are for life. In exchange the organizations will provide them with the best tools and equipment on stock."

What is your organization's name?" The freckled girl asks

"We have many names through the millennia, but the first name that we have is...."

"Camelot."

"Wait.... Camelot... as in King Arthur?" I asked.

"Yes."

"So... the story of Canterbury Tales is...." I asked again.

"Incomplete. The truth of the story is that the first Camelot, our origin, was destroyed by a coalition of  all the 4 main factions and the other minor factions. The remnants were forced to hide and bide their time, fighting them in the darkness."

"Morgana?"

"Corrupted by the Vranitch. And Mordred is her misbegotten spawn by black magic."

"Lancelot and Guinevere?"

"A tragic tale of trickery and deception."

"And King Arthur?"

"Slain by the champions of the 4 main factions."

"So he exists. Caliburn and Excalibur?"

"We... do not know. What records we have says that those swords exists. But was never found after Arthur was slain."

Reminder to self: find a way to track down lost legendary weapons.

"Is that all?"

"Yes." For now.

"Very well then. If you are interested in joining us, come to St. Giles Church in three days at night."

"We shall see.... I am Garret." The roguish man replied.

"I am Blake. I shall see you at St. Giles. Or not." The shifty-eyed man answers.

"Lady Jillian. A pleasure to meet you all." One of the females speaks out. A more classical beauty than Tasha, but still... very nice.

Then most of the group left, including the maybe-priest and the freckled-face girl.

Only leaving me, Gerry, Tasha and Pierre behind.

"Gerhardt, your recruit did quite well. Stopping a Wertiga's charge, even a newborn one, is difficult." Pierre remarks.

"And he even has his own magic weapon. Quite surprising." Adds Tasha.

"I don't even know he has one. Henry, you are full of surprises." Gerry answers. "Can I see it? That weapon of yours?"

"Uh... sure, I guess." And then I showed them my Whiptail. "It's my best weapon right now."

"Marvelous. Quite an ingenious way of construction and enchantment. Can you tell us something about it?"

"Well, I call it Whiptail. It's a chain whip. And it has three special abilities."

"Reeler, which allows me to extend the whip up to twice its size. Lasso, which allows me to bind a target for a short amount of time. And lastly, Whiplash. When I use it, I can send a wave of energy that can slice anything on its path, depending on how tough it is."

"Remarkable. A magic weapon that already has 3 special function. Many magical weapons, even the most powerful ones, has very few abilities. Unless they are built to have them."

"But the construction... I can say it's not really great. I mean it's good enough for most purposes... but not that special enough like Tasha's and Pierre's weapons."

"Well... this is my first weapon of this level. I hope I can make it better in the future. Or make more powerful weapons and tools."

"That's the spirit, Henry! I'm sure in the future, you're name will be synonymous to the greatest magical items on Earth."

"I hope so, Gerry. I hope so."