BT - Book 1 - Chapter 70

The Jolly Porker was more a restaurant than a bar.  Maybe that was why their table was getting dirty looks as Trevor and Drekt took another shot of juusht.  Of course, it could be that Trevor wasn’t quite of age to purchase the alcohol that Drekt was passing him.

It didn’t help that they were drinking heavily over lunch with an obvious youth at the table Micah thought sourly as he sliced off another chunk of ham and put it into his mouth.  At least the food was good, if uncomplicated.

“By the Sixteen you can drink Trevor!” Drekt’s words slurred slightly.  “Are you sure that you haven’t invested in your body attribute?  You’re handling your liquor awfully well for someone with an agility build.”

“Experience,” Trevor wobbled slightly.  Micah bit his tongue.  When his brother decided to impress someone he always got like this.  Baseless bragging and inflated self confidence were his forte, but it seemed to work for Trevor.

Micah sipped his water.  Technically there was the barest hint of wine mixed with it in order to kill off parasites.  After all, the Jolly Porker wasn’t anywhere near a wealthy enough restaurant to have a spellcaster on staff to purify its cisterns and giving customers the runs was generally considered to be bad form.

“That hits the spot Silver,” Drekt leaned back in his chair, a satisfied look on his massive face.  “There’s nothing like a little juusht to get your stomach good and warm before a discussion.  Now, you said that you were going to introduce me to your mysterious master?”

Drekt turned to Micah, his eyes slightly glassy.  The big man looked him up and down, interest and confusion warring on his face.

“Does your master have some sort of magic or blessing that interferes with his appearance?”  Drekt asked, clearly unsure what to make of Micah.

“That’s not actually too far off,” Micah replied with an easy smile.  “It’s good to see you again Drekt, hopefully things will go smoother this time around.”

“Huh,” Drekt’s forehead furrowed as he stared at Micah.

“He’s unstuck in time,” Trevor supplied unhelpfully.  “Keeps jumping around.  Micah’s my kid brother but he’s actually a decade older than me.  He’s seen and knows a bunch of things he shouldn’t.  Me?  I just take it easy and do what he tells me.  It works out most of the time.”

Micah swiveled his head to Trevor, incredulous.  Since when did he ‘just do what Micah told him.’  Until recently, every training regimen had been a chore and a half with Trevor constantly complaining and trying to find ways to get out of his appointed tasks.

“Unstuck?” Drekt asked before reaching out and grabbing the arm of a passing waiter.  “Mr. Pilgrim, get me another round of juusht.  It sounds like the youth has a story to tell.”

“I don’t know Mr. Drekt,” the waiter’s forearm looked tiny in Drekt’s gigantic meaty hand.  “You’ve already had quite a bit and there’s no way I’m going to serve alcohol to someone that young.  Luxos would find out and we’d have a major attunement fine by the end of the day.”

“Come on William,” Drekt tightened his hand slightly, preventing the waiter from escaping his grip.  “Not for the youth.  Just another serving for Trevor and I.

The man pursed his lips looking between Drekt’s flushed face and Trevor’s slightly swaying form.  Micah did his best to not make eye contact with the man.  He was only here to try and reel Drekt in.  What the big man decided to do to his liver wasn’t really his problem.

“Fine,” the waiter sighed, rubbing some feeling into his arm after Drekt released him.  “One more round and then you’re done.  You’re too heavy to drag to the alleyway without hurting my back and the Sun isn’t even down.  You have to learn to pace yourself Mr. Drekt.”

“Trevor is mostly right if slightly inaccurate,” Micah stated, eyes watching the waiter walk away.  “Without getting too much into the details I have experienced the same handful of years multiple times.  Suffice it to say that there is a disaster coming.  I’ve tried to stave it off several times with mixed success, but even when I have managed to stop it the price has been too great.”

“What kind of disaster?” Drekt asked, the words sloshing awkwardly off of his woolen tongue.  Micah made a note to keep the man away from more juusht.  He might be huge and have a high body attribute, but juusht could be used to strip the paint from a house.

“In three to four years the Durgh are going to invade,” Micah set down his cup of water, locking his gaze on Drekt.  “At some point, the forces of Pereston are going to break honor.  I suspect that some idiot at Westmarch is going to violate the sanctity of a duel, but I can’t be sure.  At that point the invasion will change from a ‘raid’ meant to earn the younger generation experience and accolades, to a genuine invasion.  Basil’s Cove will fall and everyone we know here will die or worse.”

“I don’t know much about the Khan of the local clans,” Drekt frowned, trying to blink the glassiness out of his eyes, “but breaking honor would make things serious in a hurry.  Still, I don’t see why the Durgh would attack.  I thought Pereston had a treaty with the clans out past Westmarch.”

“They do,” Micah continued, ignoring the glazed and lost look on Trevor’s face as they rapidly waded beyond the young man’s depth.  “Unfortunately Ankros is going to issue an edict demanding conflict.  Apparently things have been too quiet for the God’s taste lately.”

They paused their conversation as the waiter returned, placing two small mugs full of vile alcohol in front of Drekt and Trevor.  Micah wrinkled his nose as his brother, wobbling slightly, reached forward to take the drink with both trembling hands.

Micah turned back to Drekt as the waiter left, taking note of the still full mug of juusht in his massive hand and the troubled look on his face.  Trevor on the other hand, had already quaffed his entire drink and appeared to be having difficulty both staying upright and keeping his lunch in his stomach.

“What are you going to do about it?” Drekt asked, fingers tapping the side of his cup.  “I’m assuming you have some sort of plan, but I really don’t see how you can stop the raid, and I also don’t see why you contacted me.  Of all the adventurers in Basil’s Cove, I wouldn’t single out someone who is only at level three.  Unless..”

Drekt trailed off frowning.  He took a sip from his juusht, grimacing at the taste of the harsh liquor.  Micah recognized that the man was trying to buy time to think, but he let him go.  Sometimes it was best to let someone come to their own conclusions rather than hounding them along without a moment to think..

“It must be because of my blood,” Drekt finished unhappily.  “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but despite my ancestors, I am not a Durgh.  They do not consider me such and I share their opinion. You won’t be able to secure any sort of advantage or sympathy from the clans on my behalf.”

“A cynical guess,” Micah smiled thinly, “but wrong.  I need someone I can trust that has the potential to be an asset in a fight.  In my first timeline, you were my team leader.  In later timelines I worked with you.  At this point, I know your character pretty well.  Your heart is in the right place.  More than that, you’re a trustworthy and honorable man Drekt.”

“Not to mention hot,” Trevor mumbled, eyes barely open and cheeks flushed.

“What would you have me do then?” Drekt asked, his eyes flicking to Trevor and then back to Micah.  “I appreciate your faith in me, but it’s disconcerting to have an absolute stranger tell you how much they know about you and trust you.  Honestly, it feels like you’ve been peeking at me while I’m bathing or something.”

“Wouldn’t mind that,” Trevor’s head pitched forward slightly before catching himself and jerking upright, confusion in his glassy eyes.

“I apologize for my Brother,” Micah replied, exasperated.  “He’s a had a bit too much juusht and apparently he’s besotted with you.”

Trevor looked blankly from Micah to Drekt before reaching for his cup and bringing it to his mouth.  Only after he tried to drink from the empty vessel did he stop and glare at it, perplexed.

“Regardless,” Micah continued, making a note to talk to Trevor about the abuse he was heaping on his poor liver.  “I simply want you to join up with Trevor and me for training.  I can help you wring every last iota of potential out of your body while also helping you level quickly.  In addition, I have some skill in ritual magic and enchanting.  I can provide you with some enchanted equipment and help you raise your affinities by one step.”

“Heesh really good,” Trevor was slurring now.  “C’mon Drekt itsh fun.”

Drekt opened his mouth to reply but stopped.  Instead he stared at Trevor while the man wobbled in his seat, beaming happily.

“Is,” Drekt began hesitantly.  “Is your brother all right?  He seems awfully intoxicated right now.  I don’t want him to hurt himself while drunk.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Micah responded sourly.  “I’m a healer.  I can clear the alcohol from his system with a single cast of refresh.  Of course, then he’ll immediately suffer from the righteous hangover that he’s earned for drinking well past his limits.  Really, that’s the only reason I haven’t done it already.  Him drunkenly making a pass at you is more productive than him curling up into the fetal position and demanding that I turn off the Sun or something.”

“He’s making a pass at me?” Drekt mumbled, quirking an eyebrow.  “I thought he was just being drunk and crass.”

“No,” Micah rolled his eyes.  “I’m not entirely sure why, but this is just who he is.  He’ll just keep saying this sort of shit until you sleep with him or shut him down.  Pick one.  I don’t really care which.”

“A decision for another day,” Drekt pushed the juusht across the table.  “Now you’ve told me what you can do for me Micah, but at no point have you mentioned what you expect back from me.  I will admit that I’m tempted, but I’m not going to simply march into an active volcano on your say so.  I need to have a plan that I can get behind.”

“Stop it Trevor,” Micah scolded, grabbing the mug of juusht and moving it away from his brother before he could snag hold of it.  The last thing Micah needed was Trevor getting even more drunk.  Micah rather liked his shoes and vomit stains really didn’t suit his aesthetic.

“What I need from  you is twofold,” Micah stretched his arm slightly to keep the juusht out of Trevor’s reach.  “First, I simply need another person inside the Lancers so that Trevor’s frequent requests for raid passes to high tier dungeons will seem less suspicious.  Right now, most of our plan involves leveling up as rapidly as possible by conquering difficult dungeons frequently with the aid of some associates.”

“Secondly,” Micah continued, noting the slow understanding nod from Drekt.  “Eventually I’m going to need to go into the Great Depths.  My plan is to challenge the Khan to an honor duel for the right to cancel the invasion.  Unfortunately, I suspect that we’ll need to fight our way through a fair number of Durgh to get to him.  I will have to fight the final battle alone, but I would like you to be part of our team to get me there.  The more I can preserve my resources for the final battle, the more likely I am to win.”

“Khans aren’t easy opponents,” Drekt replied with a frown.  “I don’t know your class, level or abilities, but I have to admit that I’m concerned about your plan’s chances for success.  If I thought you could win?  That seems like a cause and reward worth gambling on.  Right now, even if you had higher levels in the past, you just look like a fourteen year old to me.”

“I know,” Micah replied ruefully.  “I killed him in a past life, but not in single combat.  Formidable is an understatement.  I would agree that I have no chance at defeating him right now, but I have almost four years to train and develop.  We are not walking an easy road, but I am confident victory is possible.”

Drekt chewed his lower lip thoughtfully, glancing from Micah’s resolute face to Trevor’s swaying form.  Finally, he sighed, indecision getting the best of him.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you for some proof of your ability,” Drekt’s voice was apologetic.  “I know that Trevor is a bit powerful for his age and level, it’s why the Lancers assigned me to him, but there’s a world of difference between being powerful and actually fighting a Khan on equal footing.”

“That seems fair,” Micah agreed.  “I only ask that you don’t make this conversation public.  Right now I’m trying to track a rastgar back to its lair.  In a couple of days I’ll send word to Trevor and you can join me on my hunt.  Hopefully that fight will help put your concerns to rest.”

“Agreed,” Drekt said, smiling slightly.

The big man reached across his table to shake hands with Micah, his huge dark palm enveloping and consuming Micah’s in an instant.  They clasped hands tightly, but Micah’s body attribute didn’t lose out to Drekt’s in the slightest, bringing a warm smile and appraising look to the much larger man’s face.

“It’s a date then!” Trevor exclaimed before devolving into hiccups.  “I’ll just have to find something to wear and-”

“Refresh,” Micah didn’t even look at Trevor as the spell took hold of him.  The sudden stiffening of his brother’s body and pained groan told him everything he needed to know.