“I just feel like we’re wasting time right now,” Kat opined, slouching against a stone column next to Kaleek. “The entire galaxy is descending into flaming chaos around us, and here we are shopping.” Kaleek didn’t even open his eyes, instead flicking his whiskers as he leaned against the pillar. Around them, the huge stone hall bustled with dozens of different alien races as they talked with each and haggled. Twenty paces away, a huge ball of white fur with eyes on tentacles sprouting from its top sold a menagerie of monster parts to a featureless grey being working in a wooden booth built into the stone walls. To their left a pair of beings covered in iridescent chitin sifted through a table full of weapons, picking up swords and maces in their gleaming pincers. Kat couldn’t quite make out their sharp voices as they chattered with each other, periodically interrupted by the stand’s merchant. The creature, that looked for all the world like tiny brontosaurus wearing a tophat, gestured excitedly with its neck as it tried to upsell the potential customers on more expensive gear. “That might be true,” Kaleek finally answered, eyes still closed. “But it doesn’t change the fact that we are running low on consumables. You might be able to heal us after combat, but that doesn’t really help us in the heat of the moment. Worse, your magic is our number one ranged damage dealer. Burning all of your mana on healing means you won’t have any left for your gravity magic.” “But why can’t we do that either before or after we raid a dungeon?” Kat asked, shifting restlessly. “We’ve got a full night in front of us, I don’t get why we’re kicking rocks here rather than trying to get another dungeon award.” “Because the nearest iron tier dungeons are in the midst of a monster migration,” Dorrik interjected, approaching the two of them. “There are several wood tier dungeons within range, but I will not weaken our builds by stooping to their use. It won’t be safe for us to delve into the deep mists for at least a couple of days.” “I have no idea what that means,” Kat shrugged, her back shifting against the stone bricks of the pillar. “But it certainly doesn’t sound like it's all that good.” “It is not.” Dorrik nodded their head. “The great beasts that stalk the mists are not something to be trifled with. Even avatars six levels above our own would struggle with defeating one, let alone those seeking dungeons.” “We’ve snuck past a couple of them.” She shuddered, ice water trickling down her spine. “They certainly aren’t anything I want to tangle with, but between the three of us we’ve been pretty good at spotting and avoiding them so far.” “An acceptable risk to date,” Dorrik agreed. “Unfortunately, reports currently indicate that they are moving through the mists in great numbers. Despite millenia of study, we do not fully understand the ecology and habits of the mist creatures.” “It’s hardly like they sit around and answer questions,” Kaleek chuckled. “I’m pretty sure they’d just mutilate any xenobiologist that tried to get anywhere near them. They’re awfully efficient at that sort of thing.” “Regardless,” The big lizard continued, glaring at Kaleek. The oversized otter just ignored him, whiskers twitching around a self-satisfied smile. “Some have traveled down several levels and made the effort to catalogue the behavior and habit of the dreamscape’s monsters. We do not know what causes the migrations, but when they happen, traveling through the deep mists is all but impossible without running into one or more of them.” “Could we simply go to another village?” Kat asked, gesturing vaguel toward the hall’s exit. “If the good dungeons around here are inaccessible, maybe it would be better if we just moved on.” “There is one village per mountaintop.” Dorrik shook their head. “Traveling to another mountain would be possible. Indeed, it would grant us access to a new set of dungeons. Unfortunately, we would need to spend a prolonged period in the deep mists between the mountains. Such a journey would be even more dangerous than seeking out one of the nearby iron tier dungeons.” “Crap,” Kat grunted, pushing herself away from the pillar and straightening. “So we either weaken our avatars by challenging an inferior dungeon, or we cool our heels around town and wait for the valleys to clear themselves.” “And that is why we shop,” Dorrik replied. “We must spend marks to replenish healing and mana draughts as well as the assorted short duration protective enchantments we use to weather specific dungeons. Half of our success to date has been a factor of knowing each dungeon’s speciality and preparing for it.” “Maybe we’re just good,” Kaleek replied with a shrug. “Don’t get me wrong. I prefer being prepared to the alternative, but I’ve found that hitting a monster with a greatsword enough times tends to fix any sort of deficit in planning.” “Not always,” the lokkel shot Kaleek another glare. “For example, we finished the Molten Tomb on the fifth level in under an hour. Without potions of stilled breath and draughts of heat resistance, we would have suffocated or cooked before we made it past the second room.” “Regardless, Much of our equipment is in need of repair,” Dorrik continued. “It is true that it could go weeks without seeing a craftsbeing, but the three of us have been rough with our armor and weapons. If we push our luck too far, our gear will fail on us when we need it most.” “That’s fair,” Kat agreed grudgingly. “I’ll feel naked without my weapons on me while we wander around town, but it makes sense to have someone look at them.” She stopped talking as the two rainbow-exoskeletoned aliens walked past, pincers clicking as they chatted quietly with each other. For a handful of moments, an awkward silence fell over Kat’s team’s pillar as they waited until the aliens were far enough away to continue their conversation. “Yeah,” Kaleek said, pushing himself off of the stone column. “I’ve had a sword break on me in a fight before. It wasn’t exactly fun. Honestly, we should look into backup weapons while we’re at it. Even if something doesn’t manage to destroy our equipment, it’s only a matter of time before some monster manages to disarm one of us.” “I do need to actually pick up a crossbow,” Kat replied appraisingly. “If we’re going to be stuck doing nothing but shopping, I might as well find something compact that I can use as a more reliable ranged attack. I might as well put that throwaway skill stone to good use.” “I still think you should have sold it.” Kaleek shrugged. “There are plenty of other more useful combat skills that you could have bought with the proceeds.” “No.” Dorrik shook their head. “A hand crossbow is about perfect for Miss Kat. Her throwing knives are quick and accurate, but their range and penetration leaves something to be desired. Crossbows are easier to enchant. Plus, once Miss Kat reaches the second tier of her skill, we can look into a specialty stone that will truly improve her combat role. I specifically have my eye on Spell Infusion.” “Ooh!” Kaleek’s eyes lit up. “Good point. Spell Infusion would be an amazing fit for Kat. That didn’t even cross my mind, but it would add so much versatility to her build.” “I’m standing right here guys,” Kat cut in, brow furrowed. “If you’re going to map out my future skills and abilities in front of me, I’d appreciate it if you at least let me know what your plans are.” “I apologize, Miss Kat.” Dorrik inclined their head, crest flattening remorsefully. “I did not want to bore you with minutiae, and we never had a proper moment to sit down and talk about The Tower of Somnus’ higher levels.” “Well here we are,” she chuckled, motioning expansively with her left hand. “Stuck inside due to the big bad monster migration. Now is as good a time to fill me in as any.” “As you are undoubtedly aware,” Dorrik’s voice slipped into ‘professor-mode’ as they began their lecture, drawing an audible groan from Kaleek. “Nope,” the otter cut in. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it at a bar. I’m all for making sure Kat knows what she needs to know, but I’m not sitting through a speech on iron-tier evolutions sober. I don’t care what they’re fermenting on this shitty hellscape, but I plan on drinking it.” For a second, Dorrik looked nonplussed only to shrug, crest wriggling in amusement. “Fine,” they replied. “There are a number of nearby establishments where you can explore your avatar’s poison tolerance while Miss Kat and I engage in actually useful conversation.” The otter cheered and bolted toward the exit, startling some of the nearby patrons and forcing both Kat and Dorrik to break into a jog to keep up with him. It seemed like Kaleek had some familiarity with the local nightlife because he didn’t bother to stop for directions, instead leading the two of them right to a modestly appointed bar and restaurant a block and a half from the adventurer’s hall. By the time Kat and Dorrik sat down, the desoph was in the middle of an animated conversation with the bartender, a dragonfly-like being that towered over him. Kat shot Dorrik an amused look, and the big lizard just shrugged back. “Kaleek is good at making friends,” the lokkel chuckled. “If we weren’t rushing you toward level twenty four, I can almost guarantee you that half of each level would know of our presence as he sampled his way through the local bars and restaurants.” Kat thought for a minute before nodding back. When she spoke, the words came out slowly as if she was measuring and weighing each one. “I think I’d like that Dorrik. Everything on Earth is so hectic right now. Dozens of stallesp are collaborating with and supplanting political authorities all while I have a target painted on my back. I’ve never really lived a life of leisure, my family was born too close to the razor’s edge of poverty and getting exiled to the Shell for that, but even my early days as a petty criminal are starting to look rose colored in retrospect. I need a vacation.” “Once we hit level twenty four and resolve this crisis with the stallesp,” Dorrik agreed decisively. “From watching Chrome Cowboys I’ve learned that your species prefers hot springs for relaxation. I have the perfect place in mind on level eight.” “What?” Kat flinched. “No, that’s just a trope. I’d be perfectly happy with-” “Perhaps a beach then?” The big lizard mused, tapping their chin with a claw. “I am unsure where I will be able to find some of the required items such as a watermelon, volleyball, and the flimsy cloth coverings that humans insist upon when near water, but I am sure I can think of something.” “This is on purpose isn’t it?” Kat groaned, sinking into her chair. “All of these ‘cultural lessons’ you’re learning from Chrome Cowboys have to be on purpose. There’s no other explanation.” “I have no idea what you’re speaking of,” Dorrik replied, cocking their head as their crest fluttered with confusion. “Chrome Cowboys is the most ubiquitous piece of popular media on your planet. Of course I would study its intricacies in order to understand more about your race. Already I feel that I have learned much about who you are and how you operate from a close examination of the Digital Desperado arc where Jenny-” “Just tell me about specialization stones,” Kat interjected, head buried in her hands. “As much as a horrified part of me wants to hear how you’ve psychoanalyzed me through the lens of a soap opera, I’m not sure I’m emotionally ready for that revelation.” “Of course,” Dorrik responded agreeably, nodding to Kaleek as the desoph slid three mugs of something frothy and vaguely yellow onto the table. “ “As you are aware.” The lokkel lifted the drink to their mouth, taking a sip and grimacing. “First tier skills stop progressing at rank twelve. After that, they require further stones to evolve them.” Very deliberately, the big lizard put down their cup, sliding the overcarbonated and hissing liquid away from them with their lower pair of arms and toward Kaleek. Without a word, the desoph cheerfully scooped up the drink and took a long pull from it before slamming it back on the table with a satisfied sigh. “Kaleek’s awful taste in alcohol aside,” Dorrik continued, squinting at the grinning otter, “you should have some experience with skill evolutions from leveling up your magic in the iron-tier dungeons. For magic, evolution is fairly straightforward. You simply gain access to new spells, and improvements related to the power and mana efficiency of those spells.” “Martial skills are different.” They turned back to Kat. “Most first tier martial skills grant incremental increases to the weapon used along with one subskill or perk. At the second tier, their evolutions are fairly different. Namely, you can acquire up to two specializations for each marital skill, each of which has a much more powerful, albeit narrower application than the skill itself.” “Spell infusion is a good example. It is a specialty available for most ranged skills that allows a spellcaster to use the projectile as the source or starting point of a spell. Each level of the specialty increases the efficiency of the spell until at level twelve, spells cast from a projectile are indistinguishable from those originating from the caster.” “So you’re saying that I could cast Gravity’s Grasp from a dagger I throw at someone?” Kat asked, gingerly picking up her mug. “Yes,” Dorrik nodded. “Any spell can be cast from the projectile. That’s why Crossbow I is such a good skill for you. It has significantly more range than your daggers. Beyond the obvious use of Overpressure or Gravity Spike to directly attack an enemy, it can be used for crowd control with Dazzle or Gravity’s Grasp, or to remotely trigger traps with Pseudopod.” “That sounds fairly useful in real life too,” Kat agreed, pausing the fizzing surface of her drink a handbreadth from her mouth. “I can see why you’re pushing for me to learn it.” “I’m mostly interested in the specialties you pick up for your knife,” Kaleek slurred, slamming a second empty mug down on the table. “I personally think Bladestorm and Exsanguinate are the best fit for you, but Dancing Blade, Rend, or Cleave all would work too.” “That’s a lot of words that I don’t even begin to understand,” Kat replied. “Honestly, if I’m going to make an informed decision on this, I will need to know a whole lot more about what my options are for specializations.” “That is fair Miss Kat.” Dorrik responded agreeably. “I will look into compiling a list of bladed and concealable weapon specializations. It might take me a day or so to recite them to you, but I agree that full knowledge is preferable to-” “Distill it down to what you think might actually be useful,” Kat shook her head to stop the big lizard. “I’m not sure if I can even process a massive list. Just break it down to the top ten or twelve abilities.” “Ah,” Dorrik nodded. “Much more reasonable. We will have plenty of time to discuss your build while our gear is repaired tomorrow.” “Great!” Kat took a pull from her drink and immediately gagged. It was tart beyond belief, like someone had fermented lemon zest and added a strong note of sulfur for good measure. “What in the everloving fuck was that?” Kat glared at Kaleek, barely choking down the sour concoction. “Why in God’s name did you order something so unbelievably vile? There’s no way you can enjoy drinking this crap.” Kaleek just winked at her, swaying slightly in his chair as he reached for the mug, slurring his words. “Easy. More for me.”