The Daily Grind - Chapter 402 (Patreon)

"That's right fuckers!  It was a love rhombus all along!" -Owl Criticism, Your Least Favorite Person's Favorite Book-

_____

“Fresh!  Fucking!  Air!”  James’ hands were raised over his head at full stretch, his back arched as he let the cool rays of the February sun mostly fail to reach his face through the clouds.  But it was trying, and the cold was crisp and clean, and the gravel underfoot only a little bit sank into the mud that lingered after the rain a couple days ago.  “After ten thousand years, I am finally free!”

”It was three days.”  Anesh told him with a sleepy blink.  “Now.  You are my best mate on this planet, with two meanings to that word.  I love you, James.”

”I like where this is going.”  James said as he took another breath, trying to purge the lingering gross feeling in his mouth and lungs with the outside air.  The cold was already starting to bother him, and he wondered if in his time in seclusion if anyone had discovered a purple orb that could make him feel less chilly.  Then, he caught up to his own mouth, and corrected before Anesh could keep going.  “Actually, wait.  Anesh I love you too.  Let’s not talk to each other for a week.”  He said, smiling back at the iterations of his partner, setting one hand on Anesh’s arm in an ancient gesture of companionship.

Anesh nodded, face exhausted, dark circles under his eyes.  “You’re the perfect partner.”  He told James with a relieved sigh.  “I’m going home.”

”I’m going to go take a six hour long bath then go on a dungeon delve.”

Anesh didn’t even consider being shocked.  At this point, why bother?  James was James, and he loved him for it, and there was a high likelihood that if he just let this particular boyfriend do his thing, that there’d be some new commonplace magic soon that would revolutionize the science of metallurgy or obsolete the concept of a refrigerator or something.

“I’ll tell Alanna you’re off doing something daft.”  Anesh said, before clearing his throat.  Their girlfriend had been checked out earlier in the day, as had Arrush, both of them a little embarrassed by how eager they were to get the fuck out of the prefab quarantine barracks and back to home, and their less quarantined partners.  Even Zhu had left earlier, abandoning everyone and catching a ride with Myles back to Townton for what Zhu described as ‘some kind of culture thing’.  “I wonder if Keeka is… around.”  Anesh said, flushing darkly as James was already chuckling at the comment.

”I’m not laughing at you!”  James defended himself as he watched a farm truck roll up toward them from two acres away, the open air back of the thing with its rough wooden benches coming to deliver the latest group who had been medically released back to the logisticor point so they could make their way home.  “I was just thinking I might go see how TQ’s doing, though I’m having less sex with him so it’s not quite the same.”

”Good lord shut up.”  Every Anesh present buried their faces in their arms, hoping against all odds that none of the others standing around them on the wet gravel had overhead James.  “And I’m assuming he’s spending time with Arrush anyway.”

”We talked about this!  Arrush likes you!  Just go climb in bed with them!  Alanna’s tactic works perfectly as long as… several dozen obfuscated conditions are met…” James trailed off with a grin that he kept in place despite his admission of how bad of a plan that was.  A grin that also hid his thought about how, technically, his advice applied to himself as well, given how things had generally gone with Keeka over the last year.  “Okay nevermind.”  He said out loud.  “Do you ever wonder if we might be bad at relationships?”

”No.” An Anesh snorted.  “I’m excellent at relationships.  My time management is peerless.”

The comment was so dry it took James until their ride was pulling up to realize Anesh had just slipped a razor sharp joke into the conversation.  He let out a delayed chuckle as he stepped back from where the truck’s muddy tires crunched at the pathway as it came to a stop and the knights that had just finished their three day anti-vacation started climbing into the back with a mix of exhaustion and eagerness.  “God I love you.”  He muttered.  “And I’m so damn glad you’re alive.”

”Love you too.  Now shut up.”

_____

First things first was something James held a deep reverence for, built up over years of doing this kind of thing.  Magic.  Not the kind of sculpted selected magic in the form of picking spells for his limited slots off a menu, or using his allocation to add another purple orb into his increasingly inhuman body, but the kind of magic that had sucked him deeper and deeper into Officium Mundi in the first place.

The very first thing James had realized about the yellow orbs, way back at the start, was that they were all the delight of rolling the dice with none of the downside of losing a gamble.  At worst, you got a silly story to share.  At most, you ended up knowing something life-altering, in a way that no one could ever take away from you.

Pylon Motoric and Verdigris Venture were cool in their respective ways, especially in how they interlinked, but both sides of their magic became a conscious choice over time as the Order explored the magic deeper.  What spells did you equip, and what spells did you specialize your links into?  Even what coins you used, as they found and learned about more specialized ones.

The Compiled Wastes gave something totally unique, a whole personal world, but the Order was still trying to figure out how to make it so people could pick and choose what ended up in that world, even trying to extrapolate for later floors so that James himself could aim for certain categories of upgrade.

Winter’s Climb was arguably the worst offender of all, with finite spell slots and complete information on all the spellbooks they had available.  Though he’d heard there was something about that he’d get more details on when he didn’t have a post-battle post-quarantine headache.

Even Officium Mundi, his darling first dungeon, fell into the same thing with absorbed orange orbs being carefully checked by volunteers that were cool rolling the dice, and then put into that big database of things the Order could pick and choose from.  Magic selected based on utility and need, not on whimsy.

It was a big part of why James still loved picking up random yellow orbs from the allocation counter from time to time.  It was why he loved the Ceaseless Stacks where that kind of planning and optimizing hadn’t crept in yet.  And while he knew that optimizing was the correct way to approach things, since fucking around and goofing off when the world was threatening to end was a stupid idea, he still liked it when things were just a bit silly.

So it was with mixed emotions that he was presented with a deliberately labeled and secured row of Underburbs crystals.

The joy of random chance, the thrill of chasing a potential big hit, the opportunity to be surprised.  And it was wrapped up in little jagged-edged glassy stones from a dungeon that had just barely been rebuked from a nuclear bomb’s worth of mass murder.

”None of these are power crystals, right?”  James asked Reed cautiously, reaching out with one finger to poke the first crystal in line.

”Some of them probably are.”  The Researcher told him without any of the hot emotion James thought should come with that statement.  Her eyes flicked in the way that indicated skulljack use as she folded her arms in her modified lab coat.  “We picked up a lot of these.  The ones that you brought back from the enemy delver torture house?  Those we have marked off, and we’re slowly using the iLipedes we have to identify the victims so that we can…” Reed’s voice went tight, and she didn’t raise her head to look at James, just going still until she sucked in a breath and kept talking, “Until Recovery can do something.  These ones come from all over the place, and they’re definitely at least eighty percent skill crystals.  But I can’t promise anything, and we only have so much identification time with our weird magic, and also…”

And also, some of the people who had been captured by the enemy delvers, who had survived their imprisonment and torture where their friends or family hadn’t, had made it clear to the Order that if they got any kind of next-of-kin privileges, then the power crystals from their dead family should be put to use to make sure this never happened again.

So that was a whole new can of worms to worry about..

But right now, there were just skill crystals.  Mostly.  “You know there’s people with more points that could do this too.”  James pointed out.

”I don’t think that’s true?  How many do you have?”  Reed asked with a scrunched up muzzle.

James didn’t exactly have a precise count, but he’d tracked enough to have an estimate.  “Nine hundred, ish?”

”No one else has that many.  Start touching the magic quartz.”  Reed ordered him.

”This assertive side of you is new!”  James laughed, trying to drag out a small distraction so he could come to terms with whatever his emotional interaction with the Underburbs magic actually was.  He didn’t touch the magic slightly shining jagged yellow gems, though. Instead, he just kept looping his thoughts back to the idea of how easy it would be to justify them.  Even now, he was probably going to end up with at least one power, and yeah, this was probably more efficient than just waiting three months for their backlog to get worked through, but… “I feel like I’m being told to give in to the dark side.”  He told Reed. 

Reed made a bizarre sound as she tried to replicate some kind of human scoff and ran muzzle-first into her new biology.  Flushing green and hoping James would ignore that, she started rapidly talking over her choked noise.  “That’s definitely not how the dark side works, you’re not giving in to some unhealthy emotion or ambitiously seizing power.  I know you didn’t want to call yourself a Jedi because you’re not me, but it’s not evil to check the skill crystals.”

”I didn’t want to call myself a Jedi because I feel like I don’t like the focus on the light side as the only valid expression of the Force in the Star Wars universe.”  James countered, not-so-secretly grateful for the delay.  “I mean, and the general copyright thing.  Do you think Disney would sue the Order?”

”Disney is currently actively releasing hunter killer droids to find both of us, sure.”  Reed nodded.  “But you’re wrong about Star Wars!  A lot of bad fanfic, like some of the new movies, miss the entire point of the Force.  The whole point of the dichotomy of light and dark and the desire for balance isn’t that you need equal parts of both!  It’s that light is balance, while dark is a forced subversion.  ‘Restoring balance’ shows up a lot in the legends timeline as an indicator of either destiny or some kind of divine mandate from the Force itself, and a lot of the Sith complain that it’s just stagnation or a status quo which I know you love to shoot but it’s not really.  Because the dark side wants stagnation and a horrible status quo too, they just want to be in charge of it.  So balance is more about a kind of communal peace, and protecting that peace against dickheads.  The Jedi are weird as hell, but I won’t stand for this ‘both sides’ slander.”

”…I said your activation phrase, huh?”  James chuckled.  “Wait, so, what about the… grey Jedi?  That’s a thing, right?:

”Short answer yes but also no!  How much time do you have?”  Reed asked with a fanged smile that James found more threatening than some of the monsters from the Underburbs.

”I,” James said with deliberate poise, “would love to talk to you about Star Wars.  But I have to touch all these crystals.”

Reed leaned forward, her long lab coat swishing around her legs.  “That’s right you do.”  She told James.

James felt like he was kind of friends with Reed, even if they didn’t really hang out that much.  They’d played some board games in the Lair, bantered about magic sometimes, and James had been one of the first people Reed told about her official transition.  Which, now that he said that in his head, made it sound like they were a lot closer than he’d assumed.  But either way, it was an almost totally different version of Reed he was talking to now than he was used to, and James kind of wondered when the transformation had started.

Maybe it was the lab coat.

Either way, James took a breath, and made a decision.  Maybe this was just justification, but the Order needed information sooner rather than later.  Things were getting scarier out there, and knowing what skills were available now could save lives if one of them was good.  He measured the guilt over taking advantage of a potential power rank, against the guild he knew he’d feel if there was a skill in here that they only identified in a month after someone who could have been saved by it died.  And James knew what his answer was.  He’d known the whole time, honestly, he was just mired in the constant doubt that he was a good person, according to what Alanna had told him on day two of quarantine.

James felt that was tough but fair.  He was working on it.

[+1 Skill Rank : Astronomy - Planetary - Sol System]

[+1 Skill Rank : History - Military - Cavalry]

[+1 Skill Rank : Music - Alt Rock - 2000s]

[+1 Skill Rank : Medical - Optometry]

[+1.11 Skill Ranks : Entomology - American]

[+1.05 Skill Ranks : Labor - Excavation - Coal - European]

[+1 Skill Rank : Marketing - Data Analysis - Audience - Media]

[+1 Skill Rank : Agriculture - Cotton]

[+1.3 Skill Ranks : Labor - Digging]

James went down the list, going over skill point costs as he did.  Most of them were at three, though the ones for learning about Jimmy Eat World or coal mining were both five for some reason.

”I know my Library ranks are messing with some of these, but it’s weird to get fractional ranks.”  James told Reed as he paused between chunks.  “Though it’s cool that it’s clear when they’re having partial effects?  Like okay, the shovel rank I have is obviously going full tilt at leveling up digging, sure.  Got it.  But I have… one rank in moths?  Why is that worth eleven percent of an entomology rank?”

“You just gonna keep glossing over the optometry skill crystal?”  Reed asked as she kept notes, already formatting the report in her skulljack braid.

”Yes, because I lack vision.”  James said, tongue poking out between his teeth as he waited for a reaction.  “Next batch!”

He was getting into this.  Nine down and no emotional consequences.  And James was reminded this was the kind of magic he loved, and thrived off.

Also yes the optometry crystal meant that their ability to run their own health care program just got a big shot in the arm.  But Recovery could handle that later.  For now, he was down thirty one skill points, and had ninety five percent of his stockpile left.

[+1 Skill Rank : Labor - Writing - Pen - Ballpoint]

[+1 Skill Rank : Weaponry - Thrown - Javelin]

[+1.01 Skill Rank :  Ranching]

[+1 Skill Rank : Mathematics - Algebra - Basic]

[+1.03 Skill Rank : Carpentry - Furniture - Bed Frame]

[+1 Power Rank : Security Penetration - Digital]

[+1 Skill Rank : History - Manufacture - Paper]

[+1 Skill Rank : Weaponry - Firearms - VSS Vintorez]

[+1 Skill Rank : Statistics - Civil - Traffic]

He should have known when one of them kept drinking down skill points.  By the time it hit ten, James was starting to feel dread, but then, ranching had taken nine points anyway, so maybe it was just a big skill.  At eighteen, when it clicked into place, he got confirmation.  “This one.”  He said, tapping the power crystal.  He took a breath of the refined air of the basement room, and then shook his head.  He refused to feel guilty.  Instead, he tried something else.  “Thank you.”  He whispered to whoever that had once been.  “I’ll put that to good use.”

”What was it?”  Reed asked with a subdued chitter after a moment of silence.

”Digital security penetration.”  James said.

”As a… power?”

”Yeah, I’m not sure what it means.”  James frowned.  “My computer science Lesson is actually right on the cusp of leveling up, and it didn’t, so I don’t think I learned anything… I’m just not sure what the hell this… does?  If I release a virus is it going to work better?  Questions for the ages.”

Reed opened her maw, then closed it again.  She already had four different experiments she wanted to run, but James didn’t need to hear about that.  “Any of the others good?”

”Javelin throwing maybe.  Ranching is kinda neat, though I again note the singular percent of bonus to it.  It feels like the crystal is looking at all the potentially applicable fauna ranks and just going ‘I dunno you fucking figure it out’.  Which I’m fine with.  Confusing the Underburbs is my hobby.”

”I thought your hobby with the Underburbs involved fire.”

”That’s Terror’s hobby.  I’m more refined.”

”Sure.”  Reed gave a long blink of her lopsided eyes.  “Last batch?”

”Sure.”  James took a breath, and got back to it.

[+1.02 Skill Ranks : Construction - Commercial - Flooring]

[+1 Skill Rank : Service - Hair Styling - Dye]

[+1 Skill Rank : Music - Instrument - Flute]

[+1 Skill Rank : Medical - Drugs - Analgesics]

[+1 Skill Rank : History - Warfare - Iranian]

[+1 Skill Rank : Geography - Antarctica]

[+1 Skill Rank : Engineering - Design - Refrigerator]

[+1 Skill Rank : Brushcraft - Navigation]

[+1 Power Rank : Power Amplification - Flight]

James almost stopped on the last one.  It was only a stray thought that made him finish putting all thirty four points into the thing that it needed.  That someone should remember.  That, even if he’d never use it again, they had to make sure.  And, ultimately, that there was a difference between what was pulled from the debris of a tragedy, and what was hunted for.  He’d never use the power crystals from the Underburbs predators that he’d helped assassinate, but this?  This wasn’t something with a perverse incentive attached, and James needed to face that head on.  This was just… something horrible that had happened, that could maybe help him make it never happen again.

And when the power clicked, it was also an answer.  An answer as to how in the hell the predators could have been so weak.  Because yeah, it was clear they didn’t share magic and keep neat notes like the Order, but they were still in there for a long time.  And this?  This gave James a key piece of information.

”It’s a meta power.”  He told Reed, who stared back at him with a sharp clicking intake of air.  “And it’s useless.  That’s why - well, one reason why - they sucked at everything!  The biggest skill point sinks are meta effects that might not even do anything!”

”What’s that one for then?”  Reed asked.

”Flight.”  James said.  “Magical flight, I guess?”

”Magical flight, like, maybe, Altitude Adept?”

James paused and took his own long breath.  “Could be.”  He said slowly.

”James… we’re going to have to actually talk about this one.  This isn’t just throwing knives anymore.”  Reed whispered.

”Yeah.  I know.  And… I know.”  James shook his head.  “Is this all of them for today?  I’ve got a thing I want to do to clear my head before yet more mess.”

Reed nodded, stepping back nervously.  “Yeah, yeah.  All for now, we’re still sorting through everything.  How many skill points are you still at?  Oh!  Did you hear that Amelia caught one of the headache-inducers, so we can sort of farm points now?”

”…Red?  A woman who wasn’t at the battle, and who is… what, seventy years old?”

”No the navigator.”

”Oh that makes way more sense.”  James caught up to the more important part.  “Also that’s terrifying.  Also no, I still have at least several hundred left.  Actually, before I go, I’m gonna double on a lot of these.”

Some of those were useful skills.  Anything that gave him biology Lesson points, obviously; he needed over twelve thousand for his next point of Endurance, and by the time he’d gotten up to the limit of three ranks per crystal in everything that helped it, James was still only sitting at just a hair over four thousand.  That included the medical ones, too.  He also grabbed more ranks in brushcraft, because that could be useful, traffic stats, because of the whole ‘building a city’ thing he was still participating in, and writing, because his handwriting sucked and maybe he could fix that the easy way.  Oh, and rifles and javelins because James got in too many fights to leave those sitting idle.  And for all the ones he’d maxed out, he left them ‘full’ of skill points for the next person who probably wouldn’t have the same bounty of the things that he did.

Two hundred and fifty skill points spent.  Probably over five hundred left.  And while James wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t actually find this fun, even with the anxiety about the loot drops from people…

He really wanted some magic that didn’t come with sprawling headaches as it unfurled into long term projects.

And now he had even less of an excuse for shying away from trying out a set of wings.  He knew Alanna was gonna get on him about this later.  And the worst part was, she was gonna be right.

_____

“So I might be getting wings later.”  James said from the porch chair on TQ and Cheha’s balcony.

The camraconda’s apartment in Townton was one of the Order’s experimentations with using orange totems to tell physics to sit down and shut up for a while.  The interior had been remodeled at some point, the growing construction industry here having made it to their spot on the list, to have half its counters and shelves lowered to camraconda range.  It had a hallway that looped, leading to more rooms than two people really needed, but that made it feel like an almost opulent home to James’ eyes.

It was no mansion on a hill, but Cheha had her own little den decorated with rope lights and posters, where she spent a lot of time gaming, and TQ never had trouble navigating the doors, and when guests came over there was plenty of space for them.  It felt like it was somewhere lived in, played in, and ever in the process of growing.

It also had a balcony, where James had let himself through the sliding glass door the manual and non-magical way to sit next to TQ.  The spatial effect in play here was trippy, too.  Sitting in the middle of the porch on either side of a little glass table, James and TQ could look up and see the grey sky overhead and the thick drizzle coming down.  But that water never hit them, because there was another balcony… overhead? Overtop?  Something like that.  And that other porch from someone else’s beautiful expansive home suitable for a family to grow in was still visible if they moved to the edges of this one and peeked upward or over the railing.  Structural material fizzing in a person’s vision as it warbled in and out of view, perfectly reachable if you dared to take a jump in a direction that wasn’t one of the normal ones humans dealt with.

“Finally!”  TQ hissed in delight, the batlike camera drone sitting on the table wobbling from side to side in empathetic agreement.  “How many other things will you be fixing in the process?”

”I don’t… what?”  James’ laugh slipped into nervous anxiety as his mind raced through whatever TQ actually meant by that.  It was rare for anything the camraconda said to him to come across with any kind of static, but right now, he wasn’t sure what he should even say.  “I’m not fixing stuff, I’m just testing… you know.”

”Yes.  Testing a form you are more comfortable in.”  TQ said with a slow nod.  It wasn’t as energetic as he usually was, but it was almost painfully encouraging to James, watching the guy he liked move again without pain.  “Because you do not like that one.”

Rubbing at his arms to ward off the chill of the February day, James pulled his legs in closer and subconsciously hunched forward.  “Did you talk to Sarah or something?”  He asked quietly.

”Of course, everyone loves Sarah.  But not about this.”  TQ’s lens focused with an audible whir as he looked at James.  His vision was still mildly blurry, but it was back, and his plan of sleeping through the intensely painful reconnecting of his version of optic nerves had worked swimmingly.  “You make jokes about it.  Often.  But I know you, and I know that you are attempting to use humor to dull the sting of feeling alien to yourself.”

”It’s not that bad.”  James said with a sad smile.  “It isn’t.”  He insisted with a laugh as TQ stared at him.  “I actually think this body is kind of cool, in the sense that it lets me be a paladin at high speed.  I do think I could come up with one I’d actually love, but I don’t hate being me.”  He said, looking through the wooden pillars of the railing and down to the street below where a bunch of umbral were doing something he couldn’t see.  “Wait, what other things did you think I’d need to fix?”

TQ’s tail tapped against the slats of the porch from where he had it dangling off the side of his chair.  Looking up at the mass of clouds, he hissed in thought.  “Any number of things.  Species, gender, size, number of limbs, amount of fur.  Oh, number of wings, clearly.”

”Wings are limbs.”  James pointed out with a coy grin before the camraconda rounded on him with a flat stare.  “Okay, okay.”  He laughed.  “Also I could change my gender whenever I wanted.”  He muttered.

”Fascinating.”  TQ sounded like he didn’t believe James even a tiny amount.  “I will allow you to deflect however.  Tell me about the wings.”

James shrugged.  “I’m not gonna grow my own or anything, I’m talking about using Altitude Adept for it.  Since we’ve got a bunch of wands.  And we don’t have enough shaper substance to go around right now.”  That was something that bothered him.  It was a twisted thing to think, but they kind of needed more Akashic Sewer, because the Order didn’t ever find enough shaper substance to keep up with the people who needed it.  Ratroaches, mostly, but others too.  “I told Sarah about this, but I’m not gonna cut in line from someone who needs it just because of a vague dissatisfaction with my skin.”

“If it is any consolation, I like your skin.”  TQ said, and James was halfway through opening his mouth to say thank you when the camraconda kept talking.  “When you exchange it, I will make use of any leftovers.”

”…Ah…” James felt like he’d just hit the conversational equivalent of a spike strip.  “Do… not do that!”  He said with a wheeze of laughter.  “Absolutely not!”

TQ hissed back in his own laugh.  “Just joking.  Though I am curious.  What side of the buffalo  wings debate are you on?”

”I… like chicken wings…” James said slowly, sensing a trap.  “But that’s not what you mean, is it?  You know buffalo aren’t what they’re made of.  That’s not a question, that’s a statement, I know you know, I can see it in your face.”  It was fascinating how good he’d gotten at reading TQ.  And really useful for this moment.  James leveled a finger at the camraconda across the glass table.  “What debate?”  He demanded.

”Whether it is appropriate to use shed Altitude Adept wings as a food supply.  I have heard that it is technically vegan!”  TQ answered cheerfully.

”Are you vegan or… no, you aren’t.  I know this too.  Also no don’t eat people!”  James threw his hands in the air, wincing at the sudden motion pulling at the last remnants of the stitches in his side.  He’d gotten through the whole Underburbs thing without that injury getting worse, but now he nearly hurt himself.  “Why would anyone do that?”

”I believe it is largely Evan’s shield team, and an attempt to induce heart failure in Nate.”  TQ replied.

James lowered his arms slowly.  “That checks out.”  He said easily, curling in on himself a little more, this time just out of the growing chill.  “And actually beyond my instant reaction, it’s a cool question.  I guess… it kind of is safe meat that’s consensual, huh?”

“Unless it is one of my kind!”  TQ said.  “Then it is merely consensual, as the wings tend to contain the same material as our settlement.  And I do not need wings to consent.”  He finished smugly.

”To being eaten, right?”  James asked, knowing the answer already as TQ smirked at him.  God, smirks looked so weird on the camraconda face, but he kind of loved it from TQ.  His friend’s wit had always been kind of pointed, and the more time he had to live, the more clever he got, it seemed.  “Anyway.”  James laughed again.

TQ nodded, looking back down at the drone on the table that was settling down in a relaxed position.  ”What form of wings would you want?” He asked.

”Good question, actually!  I know the semi-joke answer is moth, and that would be rad, but I kind of want to actually be able to fly and I think the spell only helps, so stronger wings are still better.  So I guess… maybe bat?  Like, if I’m thinking about what I want to be, eventually, when there’s time and magic aplenty and I can make myself the body I really want… I guess bat wings would fit.  Kind fuzzy, you know?  I might have to adjust what percentage giant lizard I want to be though.”

With a low trill of a surprised laugh, TQ looked back up at James, shifting forward in the deck chair he was only half on.  “You could get lizard wings, like Cam has.”  He suggested.

”Cam is special.”  James retorted.  “And I mean that literally.  Cam is the only one with dragon wings.”

”Dragon wings?  No.”  TQ corrected him.  “Dragons do not have scales.”

”What?  Yes they do!”  James bit at his smile, waiting to see how this trap played out.

TQ shook his head with deliberate slowness at the temporarially human person he had fallen in love with.  “Name one that we have encountered please.”  He challenged.

Opening his mouth to answer, James racked his brain for all the different dragons they’d found in all the different dungeons.  And then… closed his mouth, his face twisting in a thinker’s frown as he stood up and started pacing by the railing, feeling some of the rain as he watched the Townton street below.  Terrorbytes were metal and chunky, and Pendragon’s species was paper so that didn’t really count.  The Climb dragons were lawnmowers and wood.  Horizon’s were like eastern serpent dragons, and were also metal.  The Climb and-or Pylon made something like a construction crane mixed with a moving hanging garden, which meant it was also mostly metal and plants.  And the most recent one they’d found in the Underburbs was part road part sewage system.

None of their dragons were just dragons.

”Holy shit I need to talk to Clutter before she grows up with the wrong idea about what a dragon should be.”  James said with a faux-worried exhale.

”You are the one who is incorrect about the truth of dragons.”  TQ reminded him.

”I’m making you watch Reign Of Fire when I get back.”  James threatened.

The molted patterns of the camracondas cords shifted as TQ reared back to stick his tongue out at James, a quiet laughing hiss coming from his mouth.  “Where are you going?”  He asked as the two of them both sat smiling in the frigid February afternoon.  “How many places could there be that need your help?  I will guess two.”

”More than two.”  James kept the smile but lost some of the ease to it, turning to stare back at the grey sky and the hills on the horizon that led away from Townton and toward a perfectly normal American highway.  “Still haven’t heard from the Tyrannies, as far as I know.  Still not sure what to do about them…”

”Because they are doing what you want but impolitely, yes, I understand the conflict.”  TQ bobbed his head down, letting the drone that was on the little table crawl onto his cabling and latch onto him after it waved its rotor wings up like it wanted a lift.  “I think you should speak with them.”

”I tried that, I-“

”No.” TQ interrupted.  “Speak with them as if they were paladins.  As if they were you.”

James didn’t understand where his friend was going with this.  ”…why?”

”I have a suspicion.”  TQ replied.  “That they want what you want.  What we want.  But where you took the time to shape us into citizens of your vision, they did not have that option.  But the ideal is there.  I can see the shape of it, in the Rogue reports and conversations.  They want to be good.  And so I suspect they know they are too powerful.  The friction between what they want and what they are doing must be very painful.”  He slowly swung his body around to face James over the arm of his deck chair.  “I think they would be more welcoming of a peer than either you or they know yet.”

That sounded entirely too reasonable, which meant it couldn’t possibly be true.  But still, James rubbed at his arms as he considered it.  “I think we should make you an official diplomat.”  He told TQ.

“Do not.  I would resist.”  TQ’s fangs poked out of his mouth.  “Effectively.”  He added.

James felt a small chill at the word that had nothing to do with the cold.  “Well,” he said, “I’m going on a delve tonight.  Just a small one, to the Stacks.  It’s been a long time since I’ve been there, and I want to see… I guess I just want to feel normal for a while.”  He said, feeling silly about it.  TQ didn’t say anything, just watched him, waiting for the explanation that he knew was coming.  “The Underburbs weren’t devastating this time,” James offered, “but they still made me feel… off.  Gross, maybe.  And then there’s the thing in North Smiths, and the stuff with Europe, and whatever’s going on with the federal government, and the Coalition that I guess JP wants to fake a fucking alliance with, and the pillars, and…” he jerked suddenly, remembering to breathe.  “It feels overwhelming.  It is overwhelming.  And I just want one day to feel normal.”

”The day you get out of quarantine.  Before you have gone home?”  TQ inquired.

”I went home to change.”  James defended himself.  “And to pet Auberdeen!”  And also to get rapidly typed at by Rufus, who had a new Magic deck he wanted to play, which James legitimately kind of loved.  It was cool the little guy had been infected with one of his own hobbies.

”And you are going into a dungeon to feel normal and I am realizing as I speak that this makes perfect sense for you.  Yes.  It is a good plan, and I assume it will bring you a measure of inner peace.  I would be happy to attend, thank you for inviting me.”

”I did not do that!”  James laughed.  “No way!”

”Way, indeed!”  TQ retorted.  “My lens itches!  I need a distraction!  And I can mostly see again and the Stacks are safe.”

”I’m telling Cheha.”  James threatened, ignoring the lie about the dungeon.

”She is busy.”  TQ said with the instant voice of a camraconda who was trying to counter James’ perfect plan.  “There is a tournament she is participating in.  She would not appreciate interruptions.”  He paused just long enough to lull James into letting his social defenses down, and then added, “Also she would tackle us both.”

“You could get hurt.”  James said in his more serious voice, and he saw that actually got through to TQ.  Not the risk of injury, the risk of worrying the people he loved.

TQ had a counter to that too.  “We could invite the new Camille.”  He offered.  “She is trying her best, and it may be good for her.”

”Is her name just ‘The New Camille’, because that’d get hard to say.”  James asked.

”No, her name is Mili.”  TQ said, and watched as James went through the process of realizing what had been done, before he gave another nod that was slow enough to dislodge neither his drone friend nor his own brain.  “She is trying her best.”  He told his friend.

“Well, who am I to judge.”  James sighed.  “I dunno what I’d pick for my name if I had the choice.”

”And you will when you eventually change!  I am told it is tradition!”  TQ hissed happily.  He moved forward, bumping the table lightly as he slithered out of the chair and landed on the freezing wood of the patio with a thump of his settlement.  “I will need to prepare.”  He said.  “And perhaps nap.  A good coterier cannot be tired on a delve.  Shall I meet you somewhere tonight?”  He asked, turning away from the patio door as he started to head inside.

And he was met by James, kneeling on the deck, grabbing him in a hug that only didn’t enfold his head because the living drone using him as a nest protested against being crushed.

Human arms that were warm despite everything wrapped around his body, pulling him close in a tight grip that made TQ’s heart race.  James’ head was leaned in next to his own, getting long hair in TQ’s lens, but he didn’t care.  He just pushed back, on reflex, curling his whole body around as he was held.

”Is there an occasion?”  TQ asked, fumbling his own jumbled thoughts as James started to pull back.

”Nah, just happy we’re both alive.  I kinda like you, you know?”  James told him with a smile inches away from TQ’s own face.  Suddenly on the other side of being socially disarmed, TQ did the only thing he could think of and flicked his tongue along the human’s nose, and James’ smile cracked into a laugh.  “I’ll see you tonight.”  James told him, standing up and sliding the door open.  “Oh, and if Cheha has you tied up or something, I’ll just cancel the delve and we can hang out.”

”A good contingency!”  TQ said as he followed the human into his own apartment.  “She is very proficient in rope work!”

The verbal riposte worked perfectly.  TQ got to see his human out with a look of perplexed curiosity on James’ face.

And then he had the whole afternoon to sort out his own feeling of elation.

_____

James was heading through Townton on a somewhat inefficient route back to the logisticor platform.  Because he wanted to see more of what it was turning into, and he didn’t get to be down here enough.

There were more umbral around, the shadow people entirely unconcerned with the cold and often just hanging out on the benches and other outdoor gathering places.  There was a heady emotional field from the chanters that extended well past the part most of them lived in, a complex mix of thoughts that had less and less fear in it as days went by.  There was what seemed like an endless press of construction going on as old buildings were either dragged back to life or torn down entirely, and also as the world’s most confused civic plumbing company redid the entire water network with the help of people who could peel the street apart like an orange.

There was life going on.  Lots of it.  More than James could keep up with, but also more than he needed to keep up with.  Townton’s government was an evolving thing, and probably always would be, but they had a working system now for allocating resources to the people who wanted to manage facilities and services.  It wasn’t perfect to have every restaurant essentially be a government backed public service.  But a big part of Townton’s core mandate was streamlining systems wherever possible, and no one in the population really needed to be overexerted to get the work done that they all needed to thrive.  And James also knew these early days were excellent practice for a larger future.

He watched a necroad drift by, skimming the street as it curiously checked out the outside company that were mostly being good sports about laying pipe for a place that was predominantly nonhuman.  James did wonder about the necroads a lot.  The things were capable of learning language, but there were still thousands of them spread across Old Townton outside the secure perimeter of the space the Order had reclaimed.  Sometimes, they formed up into packs that were excessively violent to anything that they spotted, including sometimes other necroads.  But other times, they would wander in to Townton, one or two at a time, drifting through the checkpoints without incident and passively hanging around indefinitely.

They really needed to do something about that, James realized.  The necroads were obviously people-adjacent, and the Order needed to do more than just casually accept them.  Occasionally feral necromantic constructs they may be, but they deserved the same kind of deliberate and focused approach to development that everyone else got.  Some kind of focused introduction and education plan was required, and James knew just the department to put that on.

He’d bug Juan about it later.  Recovery had gotten off too easy for too long, he lied to himself in his head as he walked.

The walk wasn’t that long.  Townton was being rebuilt, and filled with more and more people every day, but they didn’t actually cover that much territory.  The way the Order was rebuilding often involved using orange totems to blossom out a lot of extra space within living spaces, so even with more businesses and third spaces coming into being, Townton was still dense.  The chanter’s multi-block stretch of park, damp and lushly green despite the season, was one of the largest singular spaces in the city, and while it wasn’t going to stay as the core of the map as the first logisticor plaza really started to become a hub of activity.

And yet his walk was still long enough for someone to triangulate his route and hunt him down before he made it to the escape point.  James knew he shouldn’t have stopped to chat with the half dozen people who were settling in and looked like they needed a pleasant bit of socialization.

”Hey!  Hey hey hey!  Paladin!”  The voice was a warbling cry as a dark form stumbled over a curb and kept jogging toward him, arms waving.  “Yo!  Hey I need a minute!”

James took a deep breath, and turned to look at the figure coming his way, putting a smile on his face as he wondered who it actually was.  An oilslick, clearly, their face and bits of their body that poked out of their clothing were just rippling black oil and not flesh.  But James had zero context for how to pick their species apart from each other.

”Oh, wait.”  He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling like an idiot.  “Three Oh Six, what do you need?  Also, wait, no, I’ve got a question first.”  James motioned to her coat and pants.  “How the hell do you not just have a horrible time with clothing?  Shouldn’t your shirt be covered in oil?”

”Okay, fucking rude.  I don’t ask you if your underwear are covered in flesh, do I?”

”It’d be… it’d be skin, but sure, I guess.”  James didn’t like how this had turned around.  “Anyway.  Hi.  What’s up?  Also why are you still here?  I thought you were going back to the Pylon?”

Three Oh Six gave him what he was pretty sure was an incredulous glare, the flowing lines of eyes on her liquid face widening like she was trying to unlock her latent superpower of setting people on fire with her mind.  “Are you fucking with me?”  She asked.

”…no?”

”I want to go home!”  She yelled at him, getting some looks from a few of the people sitting under a building awning nearby.  “You left me here, you dickhead!”

”…No?”  James was more confident this time.  “I gave you time to think about things, and you said you were going to need to go talk to your people and-or home dungeon.  Then I was in fucking quarantine for several days.  Have you been in Townton the whole time?”  James asked.

”Of course I have!  How the hell am I supposed to get to Utah from here?”  She challenged him.

James started ticking off options on his fingers.  “Car, bus, train, airpla… okay not airplane that one’s off the table right now, but, telepad maybe?  Just ask someone?”  He squinted at her.  “Three Oh Six you’re a shapeshifter, you could have just hitchhiked and probably been fine.  Wait, you respawn, you have the easiest way to teleport back!”  James pretended he was unaware that her respawn clearly wasn’t perfect; or at least, she definitely thought so.

She jabbed at his chest with a long oily finger, leading James to note that despite obviously being liquid, her poke sure fucking hurt like she was made out of something bony.  “How was I supposed to know that?!”

”I refuse to let you be indignant about this.”  James crossed his arms with a firm frown.  “You absolutely have no shame, you could have asked anybody.  Did you seriously not talk to anyone in the last week?”

”I did!  I was just… talking about other things!”  Three Oh Six pivoted to defensiveness so fast James felt like he was getting whiplash.

”Sure.”  He sighed.  “Look, I’m going back to the Lair right now, but I think there’s a group teleporting down to reinforce Alex later.  If not, we can just requisition you a telepad.  Come on.”  He jerked his head toward the logisticor platform, where a pair of people were in the process of starting the final call for boarders.

They made it on with time to spare, Three Oh Six sticking close to James as he leaned on one of the railings to watch the spectacular sight of the whole world sliding away and into somewhere else.  He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of the way the spatial bubble looked from the inside.

The oilslick next to him mimicked his posture, leaning forward next to him but with an exaggerated arch to her back.  “So…” she said, and James looked over to see her face in the process of rippling and shifting into pale skin and human features instead of pure oil.   “…you gonna ask what I decided?”

”I’m curious, yeah.”  James shrugged.  He was also curious if she’d been comfortable without the disguise on.  If she was changing now because she didn’t feel like anything other than an infiltrator in the state she came from, or if he was reading too much into it.  But he kept that to himself.  “What’re you planning to say, if you don’t mind?”

”Well.”  She said as the warning bells sounded to alert everyone to get the fuck away from the edges of the logisticor warp.  “I think we should say yes.”  She kept staring out at Townton from their elevated platform.  “You know, your harshest critic down here is still a guy who says you’re heroic?  He just whines about it.  Also he vanished, did you kill him?”

”I’ve met Terror, yeah.”  James nodded with a suppressed grin.  “And he’s not dead, just… you know, whatever he has going on.”

“I just gotta know.  What happens if we do?  I mean, I could join up no problem.  But… for home.  And for the Garden too, they’re way too close to ever give each other up.  I mean come on, we call it pairworld for fuck’s sake.  How do you plan to handle that?”

James sighed.  “Well, moving a dungeon might be hard if the Garden and Pylon want to live here.  Bit of a challenge.  We do know it might be possible, though, so if that’s what they want, we’ll figure it out.  I’ll be honest, when I said ‘join the Order’, I didn’t have a clue what that would actually look like, though.  As people made of a smaller scale of matter, the rest of us have pretty defined responsibilities and perks, you know?  I don’t know where a dungeon fits in our organization.  That’ll be a learning experience for all of us.”

”You’ve got a dungeon, don’t you?  Someone said you were roommates with one.”

”Okay, technically that’s true.  But they’re like a kid.  We take care of them, we don’t ask anything of Clutter.”  James pointed out.  “Anyway.  Whatever happens with the dungeons themselves, all your people are welcome here.  I know… I know Townton isn’t a paradise made for you, but…” he shrugged.  The way that Three Oh Six had described her home made it hard for James to actually feel like he had a lot to offer there, even if he did love Townton a lot himself.

Three Oh Six shuffled her feet backward, stretching out with her hands braced on the railing as the logisticor started its work, a creeping line of elsewhere rising like a curtain.  “Nah, but it’s cool enough.  You’ll get people.  Not just like me, either, since you’re cool with the gobbos, so you’ll probably take anyone that’s enough of a person.  Even if it’s only barely.”

”Stop that.”

”Myeh.  So, what happens if homeworld can’t move?  Assuming it says yes to your insane offer.”

”Then… well, then we probably take North Smiths.  Probably loudly.”  James said.  He didn’t specifically mean conquer it.  There was a ton of abandoned property there that they just didn’t need to think about, and the Order had a massive budget they could use to buy up even more.  It wouldn’t be out of the question to secure a quarter mile buffer zone around each dungeon entrance, especially with the dungeons working with them, and then turn that space into…

Well, into another Townton.  Not exactly the same, but he imagined what they could do with a chunk of city built around a dungeon that was allied with them, and that wasn’t destroyed by violence and fire.

Three Oh Six stopped trying to pose sexily at him, not exactly giving up on it but more just shocked into straightening up.  “You’d do that for us?”  She asked, her face showing surprise on the mostly-human features she’d put on.

James smiled up at the slash across the sky as two different colors of grey were kept divided from each other by a thousand miles of distance and one piece of dungeontech.  “I think you’ll find that when people show up and tell me they want to join me in bettering the world and creating a beautiful future, there’s not a lot I won’t do for them.”  He said.

”We didn’t do that though.”  Three Oh Six said with muted words after a moment, not paying attention to the scene of their bubble of space suddenly being elsewhere.  “I know you guys are… what you are.  But homeworld isn’t like that.  I don’t think.”

James looked down, the view of the teleport over, with a smile on his face.  “Three Oh Six,” he said with placid confidence, “you’re gonna learn, if you do stick around, that the easiest way to make people ‘what we are’?  Half the time it just takes giving them a chance, some breathing room, and an achievable goal.”  He took a long breath of the fresh Oregon air, the flavor of it more full of pine needles than where Townton was.  After three days in quarantine and one before that where he basically never took off his mask, James was happy to keep taking long deep breaths all fucking day.  “I have no idea what your home is going to become.  But I bet it could be something really cool.  And it already shares the cool stuff with you.  It’s not a huge jump from that, to sharing it with more people.  That’s all utopia is; all of us sharing the coolest things we have with each other.”

”That sounds like hippy bullshit and I think you’re missing a few steps.”  She accused him.

”Oh, yeah, absolutely.”  James nodded.  “So the Pylon can be a paladin with me, and you can go to the accounting department and work with Karen telling us that we have to tone down our ambitions to fit the budget.  Sound good?”

”No!  No it does not!  What is wrong with your brain?!”  Three Oh Six half-shouted at him as James started to head toward the ramp leading down to the Lair’s ‘parking lot’.

James called back over his shoulder.  “I’m kinda distracted and in a good mood, I have a date later!”  He told her.  “Now come on, let’s get you flung home so you can harass someone that’s not me for a while.”

Three Oh Six put her fake face to use scowling at him, deliberately ignoring the cluster of mostly ratroaches and humans that gingerly cut between her and her target as they disembarked.  The presence of other passengers made it annoyingly hard to feel like yelling loudly at her new nemesis was a good idea, but Three Oh Six could adapt to that.

Hopping off the side and letting herself pool on impact, she skipped the line and took off after James.  Hoping to at least get some kind of ribbing in before she caught a teleport back to North Smiths.  A thing that was apparently an option this whole time.  Which she definitely would not be informing anyone in home about.

There were limits to how much teasing she wanted to put up with, and Three Oh Six was quickly reaching them.

_____

The strangest thing about the Ceaseless Stacks delve that James went on was who showed up to it.

Okay, no, that wasn’t true.  The strangest thing was probably in the dungeon.  But it was still a shock to see Simon there.

”I thought you were in Uruguay.”  James pointed out as he helped TQ affix the blue-refitted helmet over his precious and vulnerable cranium.  “And by ‘thought’ I mean I know you were.  And are.”  He settled back on his heels, looking up over the edge of the table of staff recommended books sitting at the top of the real world library’s staircase to peer at where Simon had arrived with his coterie.  “Did you clone yourself?”  James asked, only kind of joking.

Simon met his eyes, so James knew he’d been acknowledged, but then the other paladin just kept sweeping his gaze around the room, eyes landing on the other two humans here.  “Hey Vadik.  New person.”  He motioned to the two standing behind him, one of them looking around uncertainly.  “This is Mark and Drak.”

Vadik gave a smile that was nervous for unrelated reasons as he walked over and offered a handshake to the umbral first, then the human that took it on ancient politician reflex.  “Nice to meet you.”  He paused.  “Which is which?”

Mark erupted with a gale of laughter.  “See, that’s funny!  I knew humans could be funny!  Why can’t you do that?”  He flicked Drak in the shoulder with one of his smooth tendrils, the appendage bending down with surprising flexibility to annoy the older man.

”Decorum.”  Drak shot back.  “Hello there.  Drak Silverson, at your service.”  He told Vadik with a smooth voice that put him absurdly out of place in his hiking boots and camping backpack.

James watched as Vad’s face went through the suspicious squint of someone who was trying to figure out if he was being messed with, before he shook his head and just accepted the name.  “Okay.  Uh, I’m Vad, this is Martin.”

Noticing the wide eyed stare that Martin was aiming at the umbral, now that he had another target aside from TQ, James stood and dusted his knees off.  “Vad, is Martin new new?”  He asked.

”Yeah, sorry, he’s a… not a friend, what’s the word for extended family that won’t leave?”

”Barnacle?”  James suggested.

”Hey!”  Martin found his voice.  “I’m telling your sister about this!”

Vad crossed his arms.  ”I don’t think you will.”  He said.  “Anyway he harassed me until I let him come.  Please don’t let him die.”

For a moment, James wondered if maybe he should veto this.  But while Vad was joking around, he didn’t seem worried about the new guy.  James did alert Simon, shooting the paladin a quick skulljack message to use his authority to double check whether the new person was a person, and that they weren’t mentally compromised.  Simon’s answer that he’d already done so was kinda reassuring, though it did sort of imply a worrying level of constant suspicion.

James still wondered why Vad was nervously fidgeting; not just messing with his gear, the guy was at this point an experienced delver and he was nominally ‘in charge of’ the Stacks delvers.  He knew how to wear armor.  He might not know it himself, but he was incredibly capable and had fallen eagerly into the role of continuing to explore and poke around in the Library dungeon.  But right now, he looked like he was on edge, and it didn’t seem to involve his… James was gonna guess brother-in-law?… at all.

“So, Simon.”  James made small talk as the others kept checking their gear or getting to know each other or, in TQ’s case, tried to figure out where his drone companion had flown off to.  “How’s paladin things going?  Assuming you’re not a clone and the answer is just ‘cool’.”

”I’m not a clone.  And it’s going good.”  Simon nodded, before giving James a look the other paladin couldn’t parse.  “This isn’t a dress down, is it?”  He asked suddenly.

”…Whyyyyy?”  James asked with narrowed eyes.  “What did you do?”

Simon didn’t shrug, because as far as James could tell he’d sacrificed the habit at some point, but he did raise an eyebrow.  “More what we didn’t do.  And it’s the Underburbs.”

That explained it.  James gave a quick “Ah” before he shook his head.  “You’re fine.  Look.  The point of growing is that we don’t need to commit everyone to everything, right?  You had a job, which I am assuming you were doing.  And we got through this Underburbs okay anyway.”

“That’s results-based thinking.”  Simon challenged him.  “If I’d been there, maybe fewer people would have gotten hurt.”

”That’s not how this works.”  James snorted as he watched TQ slither off into the sci-fi shelves, the camraconda calling out for his helper.  “Anyway.  What have you been up to?  Actually.  I’m curious.”

“Talking to people in Uruguay’s government.”  Simon said.  “I’m trying to make it clear that I’m not trading favors, but a few of them think they owe me favors, and it’s… it feels messy.  I’m just kind of solving problems while we’re in talks.  But the last official meeting went well, and their senate voted to formally invite the Order to open a branch there.  Which it took them way too long to tell me we could have just done by getting a foreign-owned business license, and actually they didn’t tell me at all, Mark just figured that out on his own.”  Simon shook his head.  “It’s not nothing, but I think Spire did more than me.”

”…You have an entire country formally accepting the Order?”  James asked with disbelief.  “What the hell did Spire do?”

”Got the umbral to agree to give us access to their dungeon.”  Simon said blandly.  “But pretend I didn’t say that so it’s a surprise when she tells you.”

”Kay.”  James head spun.  “I was gone for four days.”  He pointed out.

”We’re paladins.”  Simon said simply.

James stared at him.  “God damn that sounds so fucking good when you say it.  I can’t say that without feeling dumb.”

”Maybe you’ll get an orb for it.  Come on, it’s about time to head in.”  Simon told him with a small smile on his slightly sunburnt face.

He walked off, pausing near Martin and giving a big sigh directed in Vad’s direction before he started talking to the new human.  Presumably giving him advice, maybe telling him to stick close and not touch anything with teeth.

James shook his head as TQ slithered back into view next to him.  “You good?”  He asked the camraconda.

”Exceptionally.  And I am prepared as well.”  TQ answered with a happy hiss.  “Oh, Cheha says that I am only to do puzzles that do not require climbing, and that you are required to die to protect me.  I believe she was joking.”

”Bet she wasn’t!”  James laughed as he watched Vad push the back stairwell door open, inflicting a sudden sense of confused awe on Martin, before they shoved the new guy over the threshold and everyone moved quickly to get started while they had plenty of time dilation left.

The Stacks wrapped around them with iron light and warm paper, and James instantly remembered why he loved delving so much.

_____

The Ceaseless Stacks was the kind of dungeon that could, if you were particularly unaware, feel like the thing that it was mimicking for a surprisingly long time.

Even after you cleared the initial outer shell of shelves and the swarms of point defense books that nested there, when you got into the shelving units that went on for hundreds of feet, got to the landings with bizarre computer hardware and the balcony view of layered levels of library floors, got to the nonsensically sized reading areas, the dungeon didn’t stop providing moments where it just felt normal.  Deliberately cozy, yes.  Huge, certainly.  But more than once James found the group moving through an area where he could look around and think to himself ‘this looks like a library’.

Not the Library, just… a library.  Plenty of books, a blanket of quiet over everything, diffuse lighting, and sometimes, somehow, the distant sensation of a librarian narrowing her eyes.  The kind of place James had spent a lot of his childhood.

He’d been about to say that, then they’d been attacked by a swarm of punctuation ants, and that had kind of killed that line of thinking for a while.

The punctuation ants were super cool though.  Or at least, James thought so.  They didn’t seem to be individual creatures; instead, each of the little things, shaped like commas, semicolons, and sometimes question marks, rolled over the flat carpet of the empty conference room that they’d encountered them in like a blanket.  They left behind lines of shining ink as they moved, and while they weren’t fast exactly, the group had decided to not touch them when Vad had curiously tossed a piece of chicken from his packed dinner into the swarm and it had been reduced to bone, and then not even that, in seconds.

So they were sharp, angry, and hungry.  The perfect combination, if the goal was to make movie-style piranha.

The problem was that they were trying to explore a particular area of the Stacks, and the little meeting room with its blank whiteboard and windows that let in fake sunlight from somewhere that definitely wasn’t outside was the checkpoint they needed to get through.  So they’d taken some time to investigate the ants, going through the process of seeing what they would and wouldn’t eat while keeping distance, and even capturing some of them in a jar to examine up close.

James found that he did not like doing that.  TQ could be as enthralled by them as he wanted, James felt like they moved too much like earwigs and he had a shuddering revulsion at holding them up close to his face even if he did know they were trapped in the jar.

Eventually they maneuvered enough that Simon slipped past and found where the punctuation was coming from, which turned out to be a cardboard box full of half-shredded books that the little abominations just never stopped crawling out of.  It felt a little bad to destroy it, but the carpet of punctuation ants was closing in on Martin, who had gotten himself stuck on a chair that was being steadily eaten out from under him, and it was generally bad manners to let someone get eaten on their first delve.

The box dropped a pretty large yellow orb, and all the little ants withered into smooth and solidified ink dots in a wave as their source was taken out.  A blanket of periods to symbolize the end, James supposed, shortly before he almost slipped on them, the remains like tiny ball bearings and a new tripping hazard to try to get one last attack in.

They took a little time in the meeting room to rest up before continuing, with Simon, James, and Drak going around and looking at the various things scattered around and humming to themselves as they sorted through the small mess of the place.  After a while, just before they left, they managed to put enough chairs and the projector screen back in the ‘right’ places, and got rewarded with a red orb as well.  Which James was really excited about; career ranks, or whatever it was, were almost totally new to the Order and he wanted a million of them.

The group also had to collectively stop Martin from tapping on the blindingly bright windows that led to… well, no one knew.  But dungeon windows, especially those that let in ‘natural’ light, were always a problem.  They could investigate those when they had a fully armed strike team and time to fortify the space, just in case.

They kept moving, exploring the shelves and nonsensical book titles.  Occasionally, something tried to eat them, and they handled it, but for all that they were going a couple kilometers into the dungeon, they weren’t actually hitting any of the real challenges.  Intentionally skipping the places where they knew the midnight countesses hung out helped; the Order had a lot of those mapped out by now.  Also occasionally, they’d find something of interest that they’d pack up with their growing collection of orbs.  Knowing to look for blue and green orbs in nests and water features helped with that just as much as knowing where to steer clear of to avoid harder fights.

The worst they encountered was a catalogue that they engaged in mutual startling with, James and TQ rounding a corner at the same time as the cat made of thick paper.  The dungeon creation from a species normally passive if not outright friendly was not happy with the situation, and James got to be extra glad that their armor was pretty much perfect for small wounds like the ones it tried to claw out of him before the catalogue kicked off his chest and bounded back into the shelves, turning to hiss back at him at a corner for just a moment before vanishing from sight.

It could have been worse.  A few scrapes on his bracers and a bunch of stuff on the rigging of his armor needing to be put back in the right spots was basically nothing compared to how bad that would have gone if this were the days where delvers went in with no more armor than a heavy coat and an assumption of good luck.

Eventually, after a few hours, they did reach what had been their goal.  The group today wasn’t going to keep pressing on, they were just mapping.  But now, the Order’s maps had a reasonably clean route through to something they’d only chanced on a couple times during the longer expedition delve.

What they’d found was a round metal hole in one of the walls.  Low to the ground, only about four feet wide and with a locked metal grate over it, the pipe led… somewhere.  The metal itself was dry, but the sound of water in the distance indicated that this was part of a whole other biome of the Stacks that they’d never gotten the chance to explore.  And given where the Order usually found purple and green orbs, it was an area they were eager to get a handle on.

Just… not today.  Not with a new guy, and an injured camraconda, and the small delve team they had going on.  Mark wasn’t even sure he’d fit in there, though James tried to remind the umbral that he was perfectly capable of making himself close to two dimensional and was in turn informed that Mark wasn’t going to risk some kind of dungeon waterslide in that form.  Which, well, fair.

Vad’s general focus for most of the delve had been on mapping, and he was, in fact, good at it.  The language of the dungeon’s layout was something he’d started to really internalize, and more than once he’d informed them they were coming up on stairs before they’d been in sight, which was cool.  His maps were a lot of symbols and shorthand, and not perfect topography, but even with drone help they just wouldn’t have time to perfectly chart out every shelf in here.

But as they turned to head back for the day, and Vad’s mapping stopped with the tricky part of the delve over, he went back to being fidgety and nervous.

James was having a great time though.  He’d climbed a mostly empty wireframe shelf to retrieve a blue orb from an abandoned nest that was way too big to belong to an ink crow.  He’d diverted their party a little bit to carefully chip off a series of audio devices from one of the computer crystal formations.  He’d even gotten to get really excited with TQ as he offered marginal help to the camraconda in solving a cypher puzzle carved into the soft wood of a crescent shaped table that had popped open a hidden compartment with a dull silver key in it.

That one they didn’t know what to do with.  It was shaped like a modern house key, but sized like it was meant to go in some kind of fantasy era trapped chest.  James wanted to say it was obviously important, but knowing this dungeon?  It could just be that the prize was a cool metal trinket.  Either way, into the cart it went, along with the few other red orbs they’d managed to get from study rooms and one particularly clever reconstruction puzzle involving a purse hidden under a library counter.

It was when they were just over halfway back and kind of picking up the pace, avoiding further distractions and opportunities, that Vad finally broached conversation with James.

”Before we leave…” he said slowly, still sweeping his eyes over the ends of the shelves that they were walking through just in case one of the lamps tried to set them on fire or one of the books exploded or something.  “I’m worried about my boss.”

”Your Order boss, or your library boss?”  James asked, still impressed that Vad was keeping up on his mundane world job at all.

”Library.  Mr. Shoemaker.”  He said.  “I’ve been watching him ever since… well, ever since he met you, I guess.  Or I’ve been trying to.  I think something is weird about him.”

TQ overheard and slithered forward to James’ side.  ”Yes.  He is intelligent, but blind to statistics regarding the dungeon he works on top of.  It is strange.”

”Okay, yeah, so, that was my first thought!”  Vad said, keeping his voice down even as he obviously got excited.  “That it was some kind of antimeme, right?  We deal with those all the time.  Heck, the Stacks has some, even.”

”Wait it does?”  James did not like the sound of that.”

”Kinda.  I’ll tell you later.”  Vad brushed it off.  Which James made a mental note of, and then set a timer on his skulljack for that note, following proper infohazard protocols.  “But I don’t think it’s that.  Not for Mr. Shoemaker.”

James frowned, sharing a quick glance with TQ.  “Okay… so, what, he’s just being weird?  Look, I’m gonna be honest, we’ve gotten way too lucky with people not being weird about dungeons.  Finding the first guy who’s… dungeon racist?… it’s not that startling.”  He said ‘first’, but James knew there were plenty of people in Oklahoma right now that had the same viewpoint.  He’d talked to too many of them in his time down there.  Though many of them were just regular racist too, which had been a consistent friction point. 

”That’s the thing.”  Vad said slowly.  “He sometimes shows up to talk to delve teams going in about how horrible it is, about how everyone always stops coming back eventually, that kind of vague threat thing, right?”

”He did that to you!”  TQ reminded James.  “I do not believe he knows how dungeons work.  Or how we work.  Or both!”

James snorted as they paused in a six-way intersection of heavy aisles through the shelves, his eyes straining at the way each of the shelves seemed to line up in perfectly straight lines even though that wasn’t possible.  He looked up while Vad double checked their maps with Simon, and was rewarded with a collection of hanging lamps that felt like they would show him a picture if he looked at them from the correct angle, but only looked like visual static that also strained his eyes with every tiny shift in positioning he made.  It annoyed him that his modified avian eye didn’t seem to help him in this case, instead helping the dungeon with its optical illusion by making it all seem sharper and more colorful.

Sometimes it was really easy to remember this was a dungeon.

As they continued, so did Vad.  “Yeah, so, after the third time he showed up and tried to sub-threaten Jesse, I realized something.”  He told them.

”Your boss is a jerk?”  James asked.

”No.  Yes.  Sure.  No, my boss is always here.”  Vad said.  “He’s always here when we bring in new people.  He’s around when we do normal delves.  He just… lurks.”

James frowned, but then shook his head.  “I mean, if he thinks the dungeon is killing people and wants to convince us to fuck off…” he said, understanding at least where Shoemaker was coming from.

Vad shook his head rapidly.  “I also thought that.”  He said as their group ascended a long staircase, taking a mental break from their alertness.  Stairs were always safe in the Library, for some reason, unless you led another problem to them.  “But when I say always, I mean always.  I’ve been trying to track when he’s around, when he goes home, that kind of thing.  He’s always there.  Always.”

”Hence why we’re talking about this here in the dungeon?”  James asked.

”Yeah, well, that and I think he’s psychic.”  Vad said.  “He knows everything that goes on in the library, and I don’t even think he notices anymore!  Things he really should not know!  Also, he doesn’t even own a car!  I keep tracking down who’s parked in the lot, thinking I’ve found his, but there’s nothing!  He lives at the library or something!”

”Vad are you telling me your boss is a vampire.”  James said with eyebrows threatening to escape his forehead.

TQ hissed a laugh.  “Finally.”  He exclaimed as the team behind them hauled the loot cart up the steps to the now-familiar landing with its information desk and ‘staff picks’ table full of books that this week were all titled Grim Thoughts Regarding Basalt.  “It is time!”  The camraconda declared.

”…I’m gonna regret this but time for what?”  James asked.

”Time for him to win one of the pools.”  Vad explained as if that helped.  “We’ve got one for vampires.  But sorry TQ, I don’t think Mr. Shoemaker’s a vampire, I just think he’s some kind of psychic library spirit.  Maybe a projection?  I don’t think he’s a ghost, but I don’t know.”

”I’m gonna cry.”  James said, closing his eyes and considering leaving them that way.  “Vadik, you’re a great delver, the Order is glad to have you, but you cannot give me another mystery.  Not today.  This is supposed to be relaxing for me.”

”I’m really sorry.  That’s why I waited until now.”  The librarian said apologetically.

The fact that he genuinely sounded sincere made James like Vad a little more.  Like he’d actually considered that, and it was cool of him.  James sighed and opened his eyes again to see TQ and his drone friend both staring up at him with concern.  “You know what, that’s a good point.  Thanks.”  James told Vad.  “So, what do you actually think is going on?”

”I don’t know.  All I know is, I’ve never seen Mr. Shoemaker leave the library - the real one - ever.  I think he hides or… heck, maybe he dematerializes or something, sometimes.  But he’s always there, and always watching it.  I think he has some kind of powers, maybe.”

James paused, and had a thought, and then clamped down on it before he could keep thinking it or say it out loud.  Instead, he forced himself to say “That’s weird.  But not illegal.  But I should talk to him at some point and maybe ask him what’s up.  We know that Blitzkrieg has been around this area before, if he’s gonna live in the library no matter what he happens to be, he should at least be warned about that.”  James sighed.  “For now… I dunno, I get that you’re cautious and worried, so maybe don’t just go challenging him on it.  But keep an open mind, yeah?”  He told Vad.

Vad jerked a thumb back over his shoulder to the umbral behind them.  “I keep a plenty open mind!”  He said, shifting to point at TQ.  “I hang out with you weirdos!”

”Yeah, you’re actually pretty good at that.”  James admitted.  “But right now, we’ve got loot to sort and ship off, a diplomatic paladin to catapult back to South America, and I have a date to go get dinner with and then hopefully spend the night cuddling.”

”A date which is, unfortunately, likely not me.”  TQ shook his head slowly.

”No, it totally is.”  James said with a toothy smile as he took one of the empty duffel bags from Simon and the two of them knelt by the cart to start packing up their haul.  “Now come help me with this and we can get to that part faster!”

That was, it turned out, amazing motivation for TQ.

And the playful flirting did a good job of keeping James’ mind off what he was forcing himself to not think about until they were clear of the Library.  And also the library outside, which was, according to their dungeon detectors, part of the Ceaseless Stacks.

And it was only then that James allowed the thought to slip in.  That he knew of one other cryptic and confusing person who had a strange relationship with dungeons in particular and magic in general.  That, as often as they could, lived inside of something dungeon-esque.  That definitely had ‘some kind of powers’, as Vad had said.

The thing was…

James called that person Rhonda.  And the world itself called her the Chain Breaker.

And maybe he didn’t want to be inside the library when he had that conversation with Shoemaker.  Just in case.

But that was a mystery for either tomorrow, or for other people.  He made damn sure to document it and share his theory internally, and James knew he’d probably be the one handling it in the next few days.  But for now, he had something that felt much more important to get to.

Dinner with TQ.  And then sleeping in his own bed.  Possibly for a good twelve hours, also possibly with TQ.

And for all that Vadik had swooped in to complicate things, James did feel like this was a great form of post-quarantine recovery.