Day 6

Phelain Starr

It was almost time for the party. There was a meeting to get through first, but Phelain was excited. Such events were a rarity in his life. The few his gaming company threw in celebration for work finished were always more business than pleasure for him. A business owner was never off the clock. There was always something that needed to be done or an important person to schmooze. In the Pit, he had few obligations. Phelain was ready for a good time.

He cupped a yawn while taking a seat at the same table from last night. A knock at his door had been Phelain’s wake-up call and there was still the residue of sleep to shake off. The only one who looked wide awake was Malachi. He was cheerfully arranging a sheet-covered object to his seemingly high standards. The whole table stared at him. When their leader saw the curious looks, the bearded man only winked. A few more shifts and a check under the sheet, then he was done.

There was a spark of joy in his eyes as Malachi took a seat at the table. “The clock looks better than expected,” they began. “I will hold off revealing it until all of the Sixty are here.” The mirth in his voice dimmed and the hardness of authority returned. “First we have a few things to discuss. Primarily, how the raid went. I’m looking for any concerns or observations that need to be discussed. After that, a quick conversation on how we are giving out the cores.”

“Then we party!” declared Clarissa confidently.

Smiling and rolling his eyes, Malachi agreed with her. “But first, business. Overall, I would say our first major push was a success. We brought in a nice haul of cores, and most importantly, no one died. What do you all think?”

There was a hush as all of them took a moment to consider what to say. Phelain was no different. There are definitely things for myself that I would like to do differently, thought the aspiring warrior. Watching Hector in action made me realize that I needed to focus on my defensive role in the group. I wanted the accolades of the kill a little too much. I have to remember to guard my team too. I can’t just leave it to Hector.

“Maybe I shoulda said something durin’, but I got a question for ya,” drawled Warner. “I ain’t gonna say it was the wrong move… just wanted to know your reasoning.” His grin was currently lazy, but the eyes of the big man were hard. “Why’d we burn out those spawners? I much prefer fighting the bigguns, but the smaller bastards might have been an easier feast.” Phelain rolled his eyes at Warner's attempt to undercut Malachi. He wasn’t the only one to react the same. It was starting to get beyond reasonable how often their leader was questioned in this constant show of defiance.

The sword acolyte didn’t seem bothered, just expectant as he answered. “There was a lot to consider when I came to that conclusion,” explained Malachi. “I could have consulted you all, maybe I should have… but you made me your leader, by choice and acceptance. I eliminated the sphincters because it was in line with our purpose here. Could we have farmed the young Ratsins? Yes, but only in line tactics. That would have been bad training and experience for all of us. No space or time for one on one experiences. I also took issue with one core value per rat thing as it was lower than I wanted. Ultimately, those were just passing thoughts to me. I made the decision to ease our passage to rise higher in this dungeon. This isn’t a game to me... I want to see the sky again… We have to fight our way out of here, and I will always act for two reasons. For the safety of us all, and to see us free of the Pit.”

Warner seemed surprised at the flood of words and nodded almost hurriedly to agree with the answer given. Malachi was expecting to be asked that question, Phelain decided. Moreover, I think he was ruminating over that decision. Torturing himself over it even. He looks relieved to get the explanation off his chest.

“A noble thought,” said Harken. “We mustn’t forget the Purpose placed upon us. To rise is our duty. On a practical note, I would add the fights with the bigger monsters allowed the Sixty to really stretch our abilities. The push forward was rewarding to us in many ways.” Phelain had been a little surprised that the priestly man had been woken up to participate with the council. The gaunt man had joined them for the brief meeting last night, but that hadn’t seemed enough to signal a joining. I suppose he has made an impression with Sixty the last couple of days, thought Phelain. A real boon to our morale. Even Vincent took note of the man’s words. Until called upon, the swordsman normally looked bored and distant during these meetings.

“I certainly got more testing experience out of the open area over the tunnel,” added Damian. “I am quite glad we pushed forward.”

“Hey now, I wasn’t saying it didn’t work out,” sputtered Warner. “I just wanted to know the why of it.”

“Yes, yes,” said Clarissa, waving off the brawler. “Just asking, we know… Anyways, let’s get focused back on the raid itself. The only improvement I would like to suggest is to work on some signals and phrases for quick communication. We all worked pretty well together, but if things get harry, then we need quick words with lots of meaning. Plus, I imagine, soon we’ll be taking others up there to get some first-hand experience. Be good to give them some combat protocols to learn. We’re making this stuff up as we go, but we can set up a system foundation, y’ know?”

There was another moment of silence, it was one of surprise this time. It was understandable when the archer had set herself up as the darling fool. Still, good advice is good advice thought Phelain and said, “That’s a good idea. That is something we should work out. I struggled at times when leading my party to explain a plan or enact changes on the fly. Be nice to have some sorta understanding to rely upon in those moments. So, um… I guess I second that.”

“Vincent, Warner, Reuben,” called Malachi. “As our resident combat experts, let me call on you to put something together. Start out simple, and then we can add, modify as needed. Make sure it is solid before presenting it to the rest of the Sixty. We’ll table that until we have a foundation to work from. Good idea Clarissa.”

“Of course, I’m amazing,” grinned the redhead.

“Is there anything else to discuss?” asked Malachi moving on.

“There are some minor lessons I would like to go over, but that is something I can do on an individual basis,” offered Vincent. “As a group, we kicked some ass. Once we have our full numbers up and running, that open area will be ours to dominate. We’ll be turning it into a farm in no time.”

“That is the hope,” said Julia. “As I see it, we can train people on what comes up from the other three tunnels. Eventually, they’ll be strong enough to clear the bigger ones while we push upwards.”

“Meanwhile, we clear the big ones ourselves to gather the cores to get outfitted,” interjected Malachi. “I want everyone properly armored and supplied before we take the ascending tunnel. My gut says that it gets more dangerous up there.”

“Do you think that’s because it’s a floor change?” asked Harken.

Phelain was taken back for a moment and said, “I imagined... that a floor change would be more dramatic… like another door or something.”

“In truth, we don’t even know what constitutes a level or floor do we?,” put forth Molly.

“I think it would be safe to say it ain’t a floor change,” stated Warner. They all looked to him for an explanation. “My reasoning is pretty simple, this place has a flair for the dramatic. I’ve been involved in politics long enough to notice when someone is putting effort into laying down a sense of grandness upon their work. If this was considered a new floor, I say we’d know beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

“That seems likely,” agreed Malachi. “Regardless though, we’ll need to be careful. I would like us to refrain from entering that tunnel until everything is ready.”

“An increase in danger would suggest another change to the Ratsins,” proposed Damian. “They are strangely mutable creatures. I wonder how they will alter next.”

“However it happens, I doubt it will be pleasant,” grimaced Phelain. “Those things were hideous when small, but somehow they get worse. Cores aside, they're monstrous enough to feel like a good deed slaying them.”

“And they spawn endlessly,” pointed out Harken. “I wondered how that happens and where they go. It would seem something must affect their numbers, or they would flood the world, devouring it.”

“That isn’t a pleasant picture,” said Rueben sourly. “Of course, I don’t think anything could be when related to those ugly bastards… Ya’ll got to fight ‘em plenty, but I got some observations in. Separate from you. Saw some interesting things too. After the party, I am going to take another look to be sure of it. There’s a pattern to their behavior and I think I’m starting to get a hang of it. I’ll write up a report after.”

“I look forward to reading it,” said Malachi. “Is there anything else anyone would like to bring up?” Clarissa glared about preemptively to silence anyone who did. Warner looked like he considered saying something, but the glares of several people supported the redhead in this. Phelain was pleased to see the shoulders relent with a shrug.

The next part went quickly, as Malachi turned the meeting over to Julia. The tiny brunette stood up with her notebook in hand. She quickly dolled out tasks to get the party ready. Vincent and Clarissa were given the task of waking and gathering the rest of the Sixty. Since Malachi was pooling the group cores in his account, he was put in charge of the punch and cookies. Phelain and Warner would help and also set up a banquet table. Keeping the lines orderly was given over to Rueben and Damian. Julia would take Molly and Harken to help out with dividing up the cores.

The swordsmen and archer left first debating over a bet on who would bring the most over. Julia took her team to the core pit, while Phelain followed Malachi and Warner. The three of them picked out a rectangle table to pull into an open area. The glossy wooden table didn’t touch, but was shifted next to one of the stalls. There was an open arc around it to allow people to grab off it and easily return to the living area. By design, it was mostly couches nearby.

With the table ready, it was time to order. Malachi went to the screen. He shifted through the menus with sure strokes. All Phelain saw was a blur of lines and color. “Alright, let’s see,” thought Malachi out loud. “We can pick out three barrels of the punch and three platters of cookies. Chocolate chip and sugar sound good?”

“What else do they have?” asked Phelain, feeling his sugar tooth raging for true sustenance.

“Um, the other options are oatmeal raisin, gingerbread, and some with nuts,” answered Malachi. “Every one of them has subcategories too. I was planning to set the chocolate chip and sugar as varieties so we could see what the different types were like.”

“Well, maybe gingerbread and the nut ones could be added if we can do only a few,” suggested Phelain. “No reason to do a platter of weird cookies in case someone has niche tastes. That type of platter always ends up sitting around untouched.”

“No oatmeal raisin?” asked Malachi, with what could have almost been genuine curiosity. The edge of distaste in his tone gave him away though.

“Who likes oatmeal raisin?” scoffed Warner. “Just pick some cookies and let's get on the punch choices. If beer ain't an option, I want something I can at least tolerate.”

“Alright, alright, we’ll get there,” placated Malachi. Humming to himself, their leader’s finger swished about the blurred-out screen. “Alright, so apparently there is a percentage wheel for bulk items like these. Spread across the three platters I have: Chocolate Chip(Variety) at 40%, Sugar Cookie(Variety) at 30%, Nut Cookies(Variety) at 20%, and gingerbread(Variety) at 10%. Sound good?” They both nodded in agreement. Phelain’s was with excitement and Warner’s dismissively.

“For punch flavors… all of them use the same liquor… something called Gold Dew…” said Malachi as he read. “Ok, the flavors are Ambrosia, Citrus, Melon, and Ginger. Of course, we have to pick Ambrosia. What should we pick for the other two?”

“Ambrosia is a no-brainer,” agreed Phelain quickly with a grin. “I would say Melon and then maybe Citrus?”

“Why “of course” ambrosia?” asked a bewildered Warner. “We don’t even know what that will taste like!”

“Yeah, but can you live with yourself if you didn’t taste something with that name?” returned Phelain fervently.

“I can, ‘cause I’ve tasted the vileness that is ambrosia salad,” argued Warner. “At least with the other three, we know what they taste like!”

“Maybe you just haven’t had good ambrosia salad,” countered Phelain. “Plus this is a magical world, how could a punch called ambrosia not be excellent?”

“First of all, there are horrible monsters in this world, so not everything is good here,” growled Warner. “Second, that’s a terrible assumption.”

“Well, what do you want?” asked Malachi grinning. He had been keeping out of the argument and enjoyed the show.

“I, uh, was gonna say the other three,” answered Warner.

“So, if we choose... say Melon and Citrus, then you’re good right?” proposed Malachi.

“Yes…” said Warner, a little deflated.

“Good, cause two votes for ambrosia had already cinched it,” stated Malachi. “Ok, picking those, and order!”

“Wait, how will all of that fit in the container?” asked a worried Phelain. The image of everything compressed together as a giant mess was a sad one.

Nodding to himself, Malachi responded, “Let’s find out.” The blue lightning raced across the black container. A beat later they opened it to reveal that the container had altered to three shelves. On each was a silver platter of cookies with a clear cover over. Each platter had around the diameter of two feet. The cookies themselves were the perfect size to cover the palm of your hand. Neither too small nor large enough to worry about crumbling as you ate. Their leader took a look at the screen where something blurry flashed. “Hmm, it seems we are instructed to empty the container for the rest of the order. Guess it teleports in more after you close it up with everything removed.”

They each took a platter and brought the cookies to the prepared table. Malachi closed the door with his foot as both hands were needed for the platters. They were heavy with cookies. The blue lightning went off behind them. When they returned, each with a cookie in hand, the container was ready to be opened again. This time there was one shelf and a big open space with a barrel with a spout on top. On the shelf was a disassembled frame for the barrel to sit on. In black paint, the word ambrosia was placed over the spout. Warner tried to grab the barrel on his own, but was unable to lift it without Phelain stepping in to help. Malachi rushed over to the table with the frame.

Together all three of them got the barrel upon the table in the right position. They rotated jobs to get the other two barrels in place. A second table had to be grabbed for the sake of the space. In the end, the cookies were on one table with a single barrel and the other table held two barrels. Once the cups were procured, everything was ready for the party. Malachi ended up picking out ceramic cups that were an earthy green color with strange flowing designs like tree rings. Each cup was unique. Malachi let them know that they could return the barrels and platters to black containers for a small refund. It’s good to know that stuff wouldn’t just be clutter to toss to the side after being done with them, thought Phelain.

During their preparations, a gathering had formed in front of the sheet-covered clock. Warner and Phelain joined Malachi as he took up a place by the hidden clock. After conferring with a smug Clarissa and grumpy Vincent, it seemed all of the Sixty were there. Phelain noted that Malachi took a deep breath before speaking. It seemed odd that the bearded man needed the extreme moment to talk to the crowd. He had never seen their leader seem hesitant before. Perhaps I just wasn’t looking, thought Phelain. I have only been watching him closely since the raid. I want to be good as him, or at least half as good. Malachi’s confidence gives every impression that it comes with ease for him, but maybe it is an effort for him too. The aspiring warrior got lost in thought as the sword acolyte began speaking.

“Hey everybody, thanks for coming,” said Malachi smiling gently. “I wanted you all here for a couple of things, so sorry if we woke you up. First, we have cores to divvy up to everyone. Julia will be giving them out to each person in turn. Everyone gets seven gray cores and one color. Those that went out on the raid will get an additional color for their efforts. We do have a surplus and those will be used for everyone. That brings me to my second purpose for calling you. While most of the cores are to be used for emergency potions for everyone, we, the council, have used a few for a little party. After you collect your cores, please join us for punch and cookies. Very PTA of us I know, but well, they were cheap. Luckily we aren’t the PTA so the punch has booze. Enjoy that! I promise we’ll do bigger banquets as we have more access to cores.

“Finally, there is this object beside me.” Malachi’s hand caressed the sheet causing it to flutter and pull attention. “Without a sun, we’ve kinda been thrown off a set cycle. So I have purchased a clock for an official Dungeon Standard Time. DST for short, of course. And without any further ado…” Malachi pulled at the sheet at a specific spot and the whole thing came down with showy ease.

The clock was made of wood and carved in intricate patterns. Painted was used to accent the images and show off the beauty of the dark wood. The front of the clock had a glass window that looked in on a golden pendulum. The face of the clock drew focus to the door that was placed above the twelve. Pressing a button, Malachi declared, “I dub this moment officially as nine o’clock am!” The doors opened up and a purple dragon popped out spurting green flames. It came out nine times. The pendulum began to swing back and forth as the clock began to tick out the seconds. Chatter and smiles filled the Hall. It didn’t feel empty any longer.

Phelain smiled and felt a release of tension. He had not realized how much lacking a way to tell time could stress you out. The crowd passed by him to collect their cores and the aspiring warrior thought to himself, Time to celebrate.