Somnus IV - Chapter 16 (Patreon)

The din of the restaurant swelled around Kat as she struggled to keep a smile from her face.  Waiters, fuzzy simians with hairless hands that barely reached her shoulder scurried back and forth across wooden ceiling beams holding platters of food and drinks.  Occasionally they’d stop and hook their tail around the support in order to lower themselves to a table and serve the ordered meals.

Between the clamor of the dozen or so alien species enjoying their meals around her and the constant movement of the restaurant employees created a sense of barely controlled chaos.  She could barely hear Dorrik fretting beside her, let alone what the snake-creature a table down was saying to their toad-like conversation partner.

“They aren’t here yet,” Dorrik noted unhappily, their drink and meal untouched in front of them while they wrung both pairs of hands together.  “They were supposed to be here at least ten minutes ago.”

“And you’ve said the same thing at least five times in the last ten minutes,” Kaleek replied, sauce covering the fur of his face as he ripped a chunk of meat from a barely cooked rib.  “Maybe they met an acquaintance on the way here or they weren’t sleepy last night?  Things happen.  There’s no use in turning a ripple into a tsunami, at least until we know there’s actually a problem.”

“He has a point,” Kat said, letting her barely restrained smile slip out.  “Your friends will get here when they get here.  Until then, we should all just try and enjoy our food.  After all, nothing we eat in the Tower will actually impact us when we wake up.  It’s the perfect opportunity to try out meals that we might otherwise be allergic to in the real world.”

She lifted a spoonful of soup to her mouth, blowing on the steaming broth before taking a sip.  A wave of spice spread through her body, causing her eyes to water almost instantly as one flavor profile melted into another.  Their waiter, a small fuzzy alien named Bluz, had assured her that the stock was made from stewing over a dozen types of fragrant and edible tree bark together.  The actual noodles and meat used in the dish were less important, mostly serving as texture counterparts to the tapestry of flavor exploding in Kat’s mouth.

Kaleek chuckled, the bone he was eating clattering onto a pile heaped atop a wooden platter.  He grabbed another, whiskers twitching as a smile blossomed upon his sticky face.

“It seems that you’re turning a bit red Kat,” he remarked, gesturing at her with the chunk of meat in his hand.  “I warned you that dimgar could be a bit hot.”

She carefully paced her spoon back in the soup, sweat beading on her forehead as she reached the pitcher in the center of their table and poured herself another mug of water with shaky hands.  As much as Kat wanted to toss a retort back at the smug otter, her throat was so dry that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to choke the words out.

Next to her, Dorrik stood up, a forced smile on their face.

“Jaalin my old friend.”  The words sounded forced even as Dorrik pushed them out.  Their crest was rigid, standing straight up in a display of extreme stress and discomfort.  “It is… good to see you.”

A trio of lokkels pushed their way through the crowded restaurant floor.  All three of them had the darker gray-black scales that marked them as members of Clan Ahn.  More importantly, their weapons and armor reminded Kat of her own.  Well-maintained and clearly crafted from top of the line materials by skilled artisans.

Most of the aliens in the restaurant were well armed.  There were clearly some merchants and artisans amongst their number, but anyone that could climb past the sixth floor wasn’t a slouch.  By now, most of them had at least a couple pieces of equipment fashioned from rare woods and monster parts, but it was rare for any of them to have even a single article that was well put together as the lokkel-made equipment.

“I am unaware that we were friends Dorrik,” the lead Lokkel replied.  “I thought you hated me because I was the only person from our age-cohort to beat you in a sparring match.”

“That hardly counted,” Dorrik said stiffly.  “You were two levels higher than me and had conquered a half dozen more dungeons.  I could hardly be expected to-”

“You were the one who demanded the duel.”  Jaalin snorted, her crest flat against the back of her head as her muzzle remained set in the reptilian equivalent of a poker face.  “I also seem to recall you stomping off after I won and training in isolation for a month or so.  Only for you to blow my inbox up with demands for a rematch.”

Behind the female lokkel her two companions shifted uncomfortably.  The larger of the two, a bulky warrior with a pair of greatswords strapped across their back, waved weakly at Kat and Kaleek, but the lizard didn’t make eye-contact, instead doing their best to develop an invisibility skill while tensions simmered.

“I used our sparring match as motivation,” Dorrik replied primly.  “Before I fought you I defeated a number of challengers with higher levels than me.  Losing that session was a shock, but one that I could convert into fuel to push me to new heights.  It was unfortunate that you could not make time for a follow-up spar.  I was certain that I had honed myself sufficiently to make up the difference in our levels.”

“Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t” Jaalin responded, her voice noncommittal.  “I had better things to do than sit around on some jungle moon waiting for you to finish a training regimen so that I could offer you a nonsensical rematch.  You’re a talented warrior with nothing to prove.  Even challenging me to a duel was nothing but an exercise in arrogance, but I was on planet while my ship refueled so I didn’t see a reason to turn you down.”

Dorrik blinked at her, their crest practically vibrating with agitation.  They took a deep breath, closing their eyes for a second as they let it out.  When they reopened them, Dorrik had forced an uneasy smile onto their face.

“That makes sense I suppose,” They said.  “Thank you for coming.  I know that Clan Ahn didn’t give you much notice, but these are my companions-”

Dorrik began motioning toward Kat and Kaleek only for Jaalin to cut them off with a wave of her upper right hand while her lower hands pulled out a chair and took a seat across from them.

“Katherine Debs, human, competent in combat and surprisingly tolerable personally.”  Kat blinked as Jaalin’s words washed over her.  “And Kaleek Tikorrok, desoph, acceptable in combat but his aggression is a liability.  I’ve read both of your dossiers and I have some idea as to your capabilities, but obviously words on a page and a couple clips of you training isn’t enough for me to truly understand how you fight.”

“The Clan has sent Toorvu and Stekat to assist me in rounding out your team.”  Jaalin continued, motining first toward the large lokkel to her left with two greatswords strapped across his back.  “Toorvu is a thug for the moment, but they are working toward an uncommon agility based class evolution. As you can see, they specialize in large swords, but as best I can tell they have some aptitude with most weapons.”

“Stekat.”  Jaalin paused after the word, letting the slimmer lokkel to her right raise a hand and nod.  “They are a tamer.  As you know, most tamed monsters can’t transition into dungeons with an avatar, but they are adept at using poisons and their crossbow to weaken and take control of any monsters we might encounter.  It makes progress in a dungeon slow at first, but having a couple of sacrificial pawns can greatly speed the rest of our progress.”

“As for me.”  She reached across her chest and tapped a bandoleer of metal rods encrusted with gems.  “I’m an arcane caster.  The benefit of four arms is one scepter as a focus for each of my major specialties.  Alteration, Force, Protection, and Illusion.  Obviously they also work as bludgeoning weapons, but if it comes to that, it probably means that the rest of you have screwed up somehow.”

“Protection?” Kat asked, perking up as she looked more closely at the lokkel.  “I just picked up protection magic.  If you have any tips, I would appreciate it.”

“If we have time,” Jaalin said dismissively.  “But the one thing we don’t have is time.  I don’t particularly want to be here and I doubt you want me here Dor.”

Dorrik bristled.  Kat had never seen their crest stand entirely on end before so she couldn’t know precisely what the reaction meant, but from the way the big lokkel’s muscles all tensed and their lower hands practically dug furrows in the wood of the table, she doubted they were thrilled.

“I am not sure what you mean,” they replied stiffly.  “It is good to see you again after so long even if as you say, I would prefer to handle the preparations for the ceremony with my own team, but-”

“I am not blaming you Dor,” Jaalin cut them off with a wave of her upper hand.  “I know the clan is foisting us on you, but given the timelines involved it makes sense.  Clans Trubbok and Rahl are both watching our actions, and their scales are itching to find an excuse to take us to task for the way our clan agitated against the stallesp.  You are one of the premier faces of Clan Ahn’s younger generation.  I’m not sure that taking on a lesser trial or gardeners forbid, failing your trial, will directly result in an issue, but it certainly won’t help the situation.”

“Wait,” Kat interjected, leaning slightly across the table as she locked eyes with the female lokkel.  “The other clans are against the war with the stallesp?  That hardly makes sense.  With everything the moles have done, it’s ludicrous that anyone would give them a second chance let alone the benefit of the doubt.”

Jaalin cocked her head slightly, shooting Dorrik an inscrutable look.  A second later she shrugged, black scales rippling sinuously as she replied.

“Dor, you need to keep your friends better informed.  Only a handful of out of touch lokkel are against the war.  Trubbok and Rahl are upset that Clan Ahn had the information to call for the war first, meaning that Ahn took a leadership role in the conflict and will end up reaping most of the honor from our inevitable victory.  If possible, they want to supplant us and take over the war effort so that it is their ships and warriors landing on the mined out husks that the stallesp call hive worlds as we seek to bring them in line.”

Kat leaned back into her chair, forehead furrowing as she processed the lokkel’s words.  They made a sort of sense, but at the same time it was all a bit alien to her.  Every boardroom or planning council she had participated in with humans was an exercise talking as much as possible without actually committing to spending any money or resources.

“She is right,” Dorrik said grudgingly.  “Clan Ahn is the largest and most powerful faction in lokkel society because we find worthy causes and commit to them early.  Our reputation and honor are something that the other clans are envious of.  If we show weakness or a hint of mismanaging the campaigns against the stallesp, they will all demand to take a lead role in the war.”

A clatter of bones on the table punctuated Dorrik’s statement.  Kat and the four lokkel turned and looked at Kaleek as the desoph popped one sauce-covered finger after another into his mouth.  Finally, the otter reached down to the wooden bowl of water placed by the side of his plate and wetted his fingers before rubbing them over the silky fur of his muzzle.

“Okay then,” he grunted.  “None of us trust or like each other, and we all would rather be doing other things, yet here we are.  So.  What’s the plan?  I’m not going to skip any dungeons.  That’ll weaken my build and cause more problems later.”

Kat found herself nodding along as Kaleek spoke.  As annoying as the situation was, they were all in the same boat.  Whether out of friendship or by force, they all needed to work together to help Dorrik, but it was important not to sacrifice long-term potential for the sake of short-term speed.

One of the other lokkel, Toorvu, stirred in their chair.  Their voice came out in a low rumble that felt like the thumping bass of one of the neon underlit cars that prowled Chiwaukee’s streets.

“I trust Dorrik.  Serving as part of their guard during the coming of age ceremony is an honor.”

On the other side of Jaalin, Stekat nodded along with the sword wielding lokkel’s words.

“It is an honor,” Jaalin admitted grudgingly.  “An inconvenient one, but an honor nonetheless.  I am busy, but I am here for a reason.  As for our plan, ultimately it is up to Dorrik, but I have a suggestion.”

Before anyone could acknowledge her or ask Jaalin to continue, she pushed onward anyway, untroubled by any concerns or questions that the rest of the table might have.

“The three of us have traveled down a level.  We will still be able to help in dungeons once you ascend, but until then your group will be on their own.  That means we can help you to and from your dungeons so that you can conserve resources, but more importantly we can help you with elite monsters.”

“I am missing a few abilities that would round out my skillset,” Dorrik replied thoughtfully.  “It would ordinarily take a lot of fighting to hone them, but with a little overleveled help the road would be much smoother.”

“Good,” Jaalin said, leaning back into her chair.  “We have plenty of skills that we need to polish off as well.  Some combat experience against elites until you get what you need suits us as well.  After that we’re going to have to push hard.  There isn’t a lot of time and the elders have high expectations for you Dor.”

“Of course,” Dorrik agreed with a nod.  “I have high expectations for myself as well.  So long as we get some lucky drops, I think that my task might actually be possible within the time limit provided.”

Jaalin stood up, nodding her head curtly at the five other individuals at the table.  “Then there is no time like the present,” she said with a tight smile.  “It looks like your friends have finished their meals, and none of us are hungry.  The sooner we take down a dozen or so banshee gliders the sooner we can get the three of you back into your dungeons with enough perks to blow through them.”

Around the crowded table four other chairs scraped across the floor as Kat and her companions stood up, leaving only Toorvu still in their seat, staring forlornly at the half full plates of food.

“I was hungry,” they mumbled, almost to themselves as the rest of the group prepared to venture out into the great forest.