Aliens milled back and forth, talking and checking out wares at the small stores filling the inside of the adventurer’s hall. Dorrik stood just behind her, silent as a pillar as Kat looked through the stack of scrolls on the counter in front of her.

The shopkeeper, a green amphibious quadruped, sat on a couch, keeping a close watch on Kat with one eyestalk while the other blinked slowly. Quietly, she looked through the stone plaques in front of the creature’s wares before tapping her finger on the wooden counter in front of one of the scrolls.

“Hardening,” Dorrik said, leaning forward to inspect the product. “A good choice. It isn’t terribly useful against piercing attacks or concussive blows until you have significant experience with it, but it’s useful against scratches and slashes immediately.”

Kat let out a disgruntled sigh, reaching up to brush some hair from her face as she kept looking through the display. Finally, she separated three of the scrolls out from the rest of their cohort, placing them in a line in front of herself. Wordlessly, the shopkeeper extended an off puttingly long and jointless green arm, scooping up the remainder of the spells.

“Hardening, Poisonguard, and Counterspell,” she spoke slowly, tapping a finger on the plaque of each scroll as she read their names. “I suppose these are the best spells available, but still they all seem a bit overly specific and underwhelming. There’s nothing here that will even slow down a bullet.”

The shopkeeper snorted, weaving all four of its sticky limbs together into a lattice that somehow radiated disapproval.

“If you can find a wood tier ability that will touch a pulser round,” it said, its voice a surprisingly deep, smooth and pleasant tenor, almost as if it spent its time outside of the tower as a late night entertainment channel announcer, “let me know. If I can get a copy of that, I’ll be able to sell it to the scion of a rich clan and retire. Until then, come back to me when you’ve hit the silver tier. I might be selling magic, but even magic isn’t THAT special human.”

“I don’t need to stop a pulser,” Kat replied. “Only a couple people have access to magnetically propelled bullets. Everyone else is usually chemical chemical propulsion.”

The shopkeep blinked its eyes slowly before letting out an overly dramatic wet cough. As best she could tell from context clues, the sound was what passed for a disdainful sniff from the rather sticky merchant.

“Armored Raiments might do the trick,” it said dismissively, “but that is an iron spell. You aren’t going to learn any energy fields until you hit silver, but Armored Raiments can harden the clothing you’re wearing until it’s as tough as steel. That said, I have no idea what sort of ballistics we’re talking about here. Maybe steel isn’t enough to stop bullets on your planet. I know it’s barely a hiccup to a pulser or a plasma torch.”

Kat sighed, picking up the scroll for Counterspell. The shopkeeper bobbed its eyestalks at her, acknowledging her choice even as its rubbery limbs scooped up the rest of the scrolls. Once the counter was tidy, it extended an arm.

“Level one arcane spell, uncommon rarity,” it said cheerfully. “That will be two hundred marks.”

She grumbled to herself, feeling a sight pang in her chest as Kat touched her hand to the limb and transferred the marks. Their team earned plenty and barely spent any time on recreation so spending a little money here and there shouldn’t be an issue, but arcane spells were uncomfortably expensive. Still, Dorrik encouraged her to keep buying them, saying that no mage ever went to their grave complaining about having too many spells.

“Say,” Kat remarked as she tucked the scroll into her backpack. She would absorb its magic and later, away from the crowds of the adventurer’s hall. “Do you know if anyone around here sells specialization stones?”

“Reemok and Dran,” the amphibian replied, its two eyestalks swaying independently in the direction of nearby merchant stands. “I would avoid Reemok though, the man is a swindler and a pirate. I swear by the gardeners that he bases his prices off of how fancy someone’s weapons and armor are when they walk into his shop. If you look wealthy, which you do, you’re going to end up paying every mark you own.”

“Plus,” it continued, throat and chest bulging as it let out a satisfied croak, “Dran has a better selection. No specialization stone is going to be cheap, but she probably has twenty four to thirty six of them at any point in time. If you can’t find what you need at her store, maybe then you check with Reemok, but I’d be sure to save up a thousand or so extra marks before you give it a shot.”

“Thanks,” Kat responded with a wince before turning to Dorrik. The lokkel nodded at her, but she couldn’t help that their crest was fluttering rapidly despite the relatively calm environment of the adventurer’s hall.

Sure, the avatars of twenty different species were walking around the merchant stalls, shopping for weapons, armor, and consumables, but that was a fairly regular occurrence. Kat had seen fights break out over prices, beings challenging each other to duels. Hell, she’d even been hit by a frostwave from when a physical fighter used a skill to deflect a magic user’s spell.

None of that was happening. She couldn’t even hear anyone arguing. At least at the moment, the entirety of the treetop village that the three of them had set as their home base on the floor was placid with nothing more exciting than a drunk laughing too loudly at her friend’s jokes.

“Interesting choice, Counterspell,” Dorrik said absently. Kat frowned slightly. The lokkel’s arms were crossed in front of their chest, fingers rapidly tapping against the scales of their biceps. “What made you pick it over Hardening? You sounded interested in having a spell that would increase your physical defenses for a bit there.”

“It would be useful,” Kat replied, “but at the same time, It sounded like the spell is designed to enhance existing armor. Beyond that it’s only really good for punches and falls, and if I’m falling despite my gravity magic, things are already so well and truly out of hand that another spell won’t be fixing anything.”

“Counterspell at least lets me potentially disrupt another caster,” she continued. “If my other arcane spells are any indication it will take at least a couple days of progress before I can use it at all. Once I can actually cast it, it’ll probably take a couple of weeks before it’s actually combat effective. Until then, most spells are slow and uncertain things, taking too much time and focus only to fail half the time before I can finish them off. That said, being able to disrupt a caster sounds like an ability that can help the three of us out a lot in the long run.”

“Yes.” Dorrik nodded, their eyes scanning the crowd as their fingers continued tapping incessantly. “That does sound helpful.”

“I’m also thinking of switching my main weapon to a harpoon,” Kat said, her tone airy. “They just seem like a more interesting weapon than knives, and they would certainly penetrate armor much better.”This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Of course,” Dorrik responded. Their fingers were clicking and clattering faster against the dark, armored scales of their arms. “I believe that you should do what you think is best, Miss Kat.”

Kat stopped, cocking her head to look at the giant lizard for a second before punching Dorrik in one of his right shoulders. The blow wasn’t hard enough to do any damage through their thick scales, but it was more than enough to shock him out of whatever stupor had come over them.

Dorrik turned and looked at her, eyes finally focusing on Kat even as their frill went wild.

“Hey,” she said with some concern. “Is everything alright? It’s not like you to space out when someone is talking about battle strategy. I half expected a twenty minute speech on the best way to optimize and balance my arcane spells and elemental abilities.”

They sighed, closing their eyes for a moment before fixing a rueful smile on their face.

“I am sorry Miss Kat, I have been a bit distracted.”

“Tell me about it,” she commanded, her voice softening. “You and Kaleek have helped me through so much, the least I could do is offer a sympathetic ear to whatever space lizard problems are troubling you.”

“I would prefer if Kaleek does not hear about my concerns,” Dorrik replied, a sour expression settling on their muzzle. “He is a dear friend, but he lacks tact. I worry that any anxiety or concern I express to him will simply result in him making light of the situation or making an off-color joke.”

“Where is he anyway?” Kat asked, looking around the adventurer’s hall for the tell-tale signs of their boisterous and furry companion. “He wasn’t here when I went to bed, and I don’t think I’ve seen him aftward. Do we know if Kaleek is doing all right?”

“Most likely,” Dorrik said, motioning with one of their arms toward the exit to the hall a second before they began walking out. “At the end of our last session he indicated that there was a project in his laboratory that would probably run late today. I do not know if he is asleep and in the tower yet, but I indicated that we could have a rest and shopping day. He seemed to be enthusiastic about the prospect of spending an entire night searching vendors in order to find new and tasty flavors of fried meat on a stick.”

“That sounds about right,” Kat replied. “As enthusiastic as he is for battle, I think the only thing I’ve seen him more excited about is food. Seriously, I don’t even know how the man can eat that much in one sitting. It can’t possibly be healthy.”

“Many use the dreamscape as a realm to try out unhealthy activities.” Dorrik pushed their way past the crowds of players and toward the huge wooden door to the hall. “Those individuals usually do not advance far in the tower, but it is not unheard of for the children of prominent families to spend their time experimenting with severing their own limbs or eating potentially poisonous dishes.”

Kat felt her face darken. Hedonism. The idea was almost alien to her as the spike covered centaur with a snake torso and head that had just walked past her. She had grown up with so little that the idea of wasting something ran completely counter to her nature.

As a runner, every credit and favor counted. Spending money on excess and frivolity just rubbed her the wrong way. If Kat was being honest with herself, that was part of the reason why Emma was in charge of most of her internal budgets and spending. She just couldn’t spend money on herself. There was always a part of her whispering that she needed to save whatever she had for a rainy day.

The two of them stepped out of the adventurer’s hall and onto the platform of woven branches that the city rested on. Foliage clogged her view of the sky, but enough light filtered down that the town didn’t have to make do with torches, a good thing given that almost all of the buildings were crafted from wood.

Dorrik paused for a second, surveying the elegantly carved structures before leading the way toward the town’s culinary district. Evidently the monsters of the floor were considered delicacies by many species and a number of chefs had paid experienced warriors good money in order to rush past the floor guardians so that they could set up restaurants amidst the arching branches.

After walking in relative silence for almost five minutes, Kat gave up on waiting the lokkel out and spoke up.

“Do you honestly think that if you ignore your problems long enough that I’ll forget about them?”

“Honestly,” Dorrik rumbled dryly, “I was hoping that avoiding them long enough would make me forget about them too. Unfortunately, it does not seem that I will be having any such luck.”

“Then talk about them,” Kat pried. “I might not have the most experience with galactic society and norms, but you can at least get your concerns off your chest and let me respond with some well meaning but empty platitudes. At least let me have that.”

Dorrik stopped abruptly, forcing Kat to shift past them to avoid running into their giant scaled back. Their crest fluttered, a testament to their nervous indecision. A moment later they reached up to their head, massaging the area above their brow ridges for a second or two. Finally, they shrugged.

“Fine. Follow me, Miss Kat.”

They led the way to the edge of the city platform. Kat wasn’t terribly afraid of heights, but still she avoided looking down as the lokkel plopped themselves on the edge, their legs hanging off into the abyss. She joined them, leaning back slightly with both of her arms behind her, elbows locked as she stared off into the canopy.

“I have mentioned that my coming of age ceremony will be happening soon,” the lokkel stated the words matter of factly, not looking over at Kat as they gazed off at the massive trees surrounding the adventurer village.

“Yes,” Kat replied. “Many times. It’s clearly been on your mind, but other than talking about how important it is and the location, you haven’t actually talked all that much about the specifics of what’s happening.”

“You and Kaleek will be part of my honor guard,” they responded. “Since I will be forced to an incredibly difficult foe without outside help, it is considered customary for a team of close friends and allies that are around a candidate's level to escort them to the sight of the battle and ensure that there isn’t any outside interference. That way I can avoid expending any of my resources until the time of the actual battle.”

“That makes sense,” Kat said, her head bobbing in a quick nod. “Plus if things get out of hand, we can swoop in and distract you from the floor guardian.”

“You may not.” Dorrik sighed unhappily. “The ritual is considered more important than this avatar. If I die in combat, it will be a blemish on my honor. Starting over from level one won’t entirely remove that stain, but it is considered the bare minimum.”

Kat winced. She didn’t say anything, but at the same time, she didn’t need to. Dorrik could clearly see her displeasure and discomfort with their response.

“The lokkel are an ancient people,” they said helplessly. “Our traditions are older than many races in the Consensus and they are very meaningful to us. It is important that I follow in the steps of my ancestors, but the specifics of what my clan has requested are quite difficult.”

“Skill can make up for a lack of physical ability,’ they continued, feet kicking into empty space, “but as you ascend the tower, the floor guardians become much more powerful. If I were forced to defeat a guardian on the first or second floor on my own, that would be a simple matter, but we have climbed too far. Even with a team of three, it wouldn’t be an easy fight.”

“Then we polish you off first.” Kat slapped a hand on their shoulder, smiling up at the lokkel. “Make sure you beat every iron dungeon possible en route to becoming the most powerful version of yourself available. Then we load you down with consumables and scout out the floor guardian in question. Maybe fight some practice battles with it until you have a good idea of its attacks and patterns. It might be bigger and stronger than you, but if you know its every move before it makes it, you should be able to handle this.”

“Except my time is not my own,” Dorrik said quietly. They snapped a twig off of the city platform and tossed it off the edge, watching it flutter out of sight toward the forest floor below. “Neither is my course.”

“What do you mean by that?” Kat asked, watching the stick until it disappeared into the eternal gloom of the undergrowth.

Dorrik sighed, turning to her with a weak smile upon their muzzle.

“My clan is going to set the date shortly. Once the timing is announced, it is set in stone and we will have no choice but to accelerate our timetables. Worse, they plan on sending me ‘help.’ To ensure that I can clear my way to the floor guardian in time.”

“Help?” Kat questioned. “How is cutting your training short after setting you an incredibly difficult task helpful?”

“Additional warriors,” they replied unhappily. “Another three to fill out our team and work with us. They should make the coming days easier, but still. They will not have any experience working with the three of us, and that has the potential to turn them into liabilities rather than a boon. The clan elders must know this, and yet they insist. There is something about the entire situation that makes my crest stand on end, even if I can’t quite identify the exact cause.”