Dungeon 2 – Belt Buckle Ballet

  Chapter 15 – Cat’s Pajamas

  Olivia

  Dawn’s first light peeked through the circular window in Olivia’s one-room residence, but she already stirred, for sleep had not come easy. Today marked the first day of her new job, and while, yes, the nerves contributed to the lack of rest; what had really kept her awake was the fact that she hadn’t removed her hardened leather armor for two months.

  This had made sleeping terribly uncomfortable. Also: everything else.

  Olivia, age twenty, was a cat-folk. Unlike many of the other beast-folk of Beast Islands, those of the feline persuasion had difficulties with armor. Balance was a delicate thing! One could not expect a cat to be graceful in layers of hard metal or stiff cowhide. It was nothing that couldn’t be overcome with practice, but Olivia wasn’t practicing wittingly. In fact, she felt desperate to take it off.

  The armor was black, a good black – very deep, with dark brown belts attaching the various sections of boiled and treated leather. Chest piece, pauldrons, faulds; all were there, including custom-cut vambraces and boots for her tiny footpaws. She’d been waiting patiently for the smell of the tannery to leave it, but if anything, it had gotten worse. It certainly didn’t seem appropriate for her new, non-adventuring position either. Despite all this, Olivia knew what would happen if she tried to unbuckle any of those belts. So, she kept her paws clear of them as she gathered her things to leave.

  There wasn’t much gold left for decorating her townhome after buying the goose feather mattress. Really, the mattress had cost just about everything she’d allotted to make her place livable, but she’d always wanted to sleep on the kind of thing a noble would! A frame for it could come later. As could pillows, or sheets perhaps. She really wanted a mirror, too, like – a proper glass one – but the merchant wouldn’t even tell her the price. She had at least managed to hang a polished disc of speculum by the front entrance, to which she glanced on her way outside.

  Well, the armor still looked nice on her petite frame.

  Unlike the larger Leonine or Tigera clan cat-folk, Olivia came from the Felis clan – the smallest. Similar to their domesticated animal cousins, they were known back on the islands for guarding granaries, napping in sunbeams, napping outside sunbeams, and being wholly unable to roar. When standing upright on her pink toe-beans, she was an unassuming five foot four inches. Orange-and-cream fur covered her slender build, forming a striped pattern toward the end of her tail that curled up from the armor’s rear faulds. Her wavy brown hair, cut just above the shoulders, framed her whiskered pink nose and amethyst eyes in a striking manner. Two orange-cream cat ears pointed up through the curls.

  Olivia gave herself an uneasy smile and said: “oh, this? The armor? Yeah, I got so used to wearing it that it feels like second fur. I didn’t even realize I had it on!”

  Look at that natural smile! Friendly eyes, too. Definitely not exploding with anxiety, she could at least convince herself. Holding several variations of the lie in her head, Olivia began her walk.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  Olivia had been particular about the cutting of her boots: the beans must be exposed, otherwise, she would miss important things, such as how smooth and cool the stonework of the residential area felt in the morning. The sun had yet to fully rise beyond the eastern wall, so the orderly grid of tan brick townhomes still sat in shadows around the orange glow of street lanterns. Naturally, other people were already outside, congregating in groups around the common cooking areas to socialize over breakfast. From the smell of it, someone was getting into bacon – clearly an attempt to make Olivia late, which she bravely resisted.

  Other folks, like her, walked along the main road between the grids, bound for the stately arch that led to the north bridge. Unlike her, they were not necessarily dressed for battle. They wore various city clothes in the latest fashions, or uniforms bearing Woodpine’s brown, green, and gold colors. She walked among their idle banter and focused on her own footfalls to quell the butterflies until she reached the bridge over the Crescent. This one led to the administrative and noble districts of the city, while the south led into Metalworks Square, and beyond that, the docks. Thankfully, someone dressed like an adventurer on their way to the guild headquarters wasn’t too strange, she didn’t get any weird looks crossing the even fancier arch at the bridge’s end. One of the armored guards even gave her a friendly nod!

  Down the main road, all of Woodpine’s major guilds and unions had headquarters stationed in large, post-war construction buildings draped in flags bearing their sigils. Olivia had a hard time believing that it had been a battlefield at one point, but, the story went that the devastation was so total that the only choice had been to build completely anew. Most of the city was that way, only a few areas of the outskirts still had signs of older construction being repaired and kept up by the locals. She approached the building that bore a green flag with the symbol of the Adventurer’s Guild: a gold hawk diving with talons outstretched, behind it, a grand brown tree.

  Tap, tap, pause.

  The front entrance was a grand affair: an oaken door, shut tight and latched; two sconces, trimmed in silver; and four decorative pillars that hoisted a curved pediment over the door. A mural on the pediment depicted Terrans of all races wielding weapons and tools in regal poses. Olivia admired the way the rising sun brought out the shadows in the stonework – also just, how nice it all was. It was so nice here!

  Okay, the guild manager had said she needed to use the clerk’s entrance. She didn’t see a second door from the main road, so she started down an alley that led between the guild and its neighboring building. Lots of crates and barrels, and just kind of – stuff – no door though. Olivia rounded the corner and felt as much relief as anxiety. Someone was here! A human man, broad with brown hair, wearing the clerk’s uniform: a tan robe with green-gold layering, a split-brim green hat, and a bronze hawk pin on his lapel. He arranged sacks next to a smaller, modest door.

  Um, should she call out before approaching? She supposed so.

  “Hello there!” Olivia called, coming closer. The man settled a sack down and glanced at her.

  “Adventurers go to the front,” the man said, taking one look at her armor. “And we’re not open for another half an hour or so.”

  “Oh, I’m a clerk!” Olivia chuckled entirely out of nerves. “Erm, it’s my first day?”

  The man’s demeanor changed, seeming to recognize her: “you the cat Lady Delacroix said was starting? Why are you in armor?”

  “It’s just one of those things,” Olivia said. Panic. Panic. How did that line go? “Um, like, without realizing it, I kind of came here wearing it, hah! It was like – like a second skin!”

  Big smile.

  The man stared at her, his eyebrow raised.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Oh, scales, he wasn’t buying it at all. Olivia’s tail curled up, fur bristling out.

  “What was your name again?” he asked.

  “Olivia!” she blurted.

  “Surname?” he asked again.

  “Knoh!” she clarified.

  “So, no surname then? I thought cats-” he began.

  “No no no,” Olivia gestured, “it’s Knoh! I’m Olivia Knoh. Funny story about that actually, my profile for adventuring says I have no surname because-”

  “Right, right,” the man held up his hand to stop her. “Well Olivia, I’m Stephan Calhoun; since I’m the paperside manager today I guess I’m the one getting you your uniform and showing you around.”

  “Hiya Stephan!” Olivia chimed and held her leatherbound paw out for a shake.

  Stephan gave her gauntlet a dubious look and did not shake it so much as grasp it momentarily. Afterward, he led them inside to a small nook with two hallways branching out toward the front of the building. To their left, a narrow staircase, which Stephan immediately ascended.

  “Down those halls are the initiation and support booths, but we’ll show you processing first,” Stephan said, “that’s where everyone starts. Probably worth asking: you read, right?”

  “I went to all my years of common school!” Olivia said with pride. She couldn’t help feeling a pang of disappointment, though, and said: “how long until I can interact with the adventurers?”

  Stephan laughed in response, climbing the final stair. A grand open room awaited them, with windows allowing beams of morning sunlight. There were five rows of desks that spanned the length of the room, each of them with tiered shelves bearing inkwells, quills, and seals. A few other clerks were already here, though they were currently gossiping and having tea.

  Stephan finished laughing, gave her a second glance, and said: “ah, you were serious?”

  Olivia nodded earnestly, responding: “I really liked the person who helped me initiate my first adventure!”

  “Most people don’t like that rotation,” Stephan smirked, “but it’d be up to Lady Delacroix.”

  “You keep saying that name,” Olivia said, “is that my boss?”

  “No, I’m your boss,” Stephan said, “today, at least. She’s my boss.”

  “So,” Olivia wanted to make sure, “that makes her my boss too!”

  Stephan stared at her.

  “Right?” Olivia smiled, feeling like she should maybe have her tongue removed.

  “You can use my office to get changed,” Stephan sighed, leading her through a door to a side office. The already cramped space was made even harder to navigate by the many crates piled up from floor to ceiling. Stephan had apparently left himself a path to his desk, as well as to a pair of wardrobes in the corner. He opened them to reveal sets of the clerk robes and hats, then quickly moved back outside.

  “I have to wrap up what I was doing,” Stephan said, “so come find me when you’re done.”

  He closed the door, leaving Olivia to gaze at the collection of robes, then down at her armored body.

  Oh, she was fucked.

  “Don’t panic,” Olivia reminded herself.

  Alright, maybe since she needed to take it off, the thing wouldn’t happen.

  Slowly, gingerly, perhaps even respectfully, Olivia raised her right paw and found the gauntlet’s buckle with her left. She pulled on the brass, coaxed it up, gentle now –

  A high-pitched giggle emitted from her chest-piece!

  “Oh no, I’m sorry!” Olivia apologized immediately, but it was too late.

  A ball of pink light flew from the gap between her neck and the hard leather, bearing two luminescent wings. It giggled once more before forming into the shape of a small feminine sprite, which dove at Olivia’s hand.

  “Eek!” Olivia cried and tried to jump away, but the sprite was too quick. It latched onto the buckle, re-fastened it, then caused her to wiggle back by flying at her face!

  Tap-tap tap-tap tap-tap!

  Olivia meowed in surprise, bouncing backward to avoid it. Thankfully, the sprite only kept it up a few seconds before fluttering back into her chest-piece to disappear. The cat-folk waited a few moments longer to ensure nobody was coming to investigate, then lowered her hands with a long exhale.

  Nobody had heard, but she was still faced with a problem: she needed to put her uniform on. Olivia stared at the robes, feeling a renewed sense of outrage. It wasn’t fair! She’d only been on one adventure, and it was really scary, and she’d gotten this stupid forever curse! The first adventure was supposed to be like a learning adventure, not – whatever the heck that was. Why didn’t anyone warn her about the Fae Wilds? Now she got spooked every time she tried to take off her armor, and it was the worst!

  So itchy! So hard to sleep! So – just – bad bad bad!

  Through her self-pity, she came up with an idea.

  Soon, Olivia strode from the office. She wore an overlarge robe draped over her pauldrons, making her figure positively lumpy. Plus, the hat. She slouched, hoping it would look a little less ridiculous. The gossiping workers paused to give her looks from across the way. All Olivia could think to do was flash them a thumbs up and ask: “where’s Stephan?”

  The pair pointed down the nearby stairs, so Olivia peeked around the corner and heard Stephan’s voice from the floor below, talking to someone. She took several steps downstairs until Stephan came into view, as well as who he spoke to – a noblewoman! Eek!

  Olivia reflexively danced back up the stairs out of sight.

  That had to be Lady Delacroix. Her thick Rhodean accent added a judgmental tone to her already purposeful speech. The noblewoman carried elf blood: ears thin and pointed, frame tall and slender; though, her skin betrayed more time in the sun than most of the other nobles Olivia had seen. Her long, orange-blonde hair sat curled into several meticulously positioned ringlets, with a purple lotus-shaped band holding them in place. She wore a fine deep blue dress with purple layering, and subtle makeup to add a sharp ferocity to her golden eyes. An amulet sat prominently on her chest, a silvered iron dragon sigil with wings outstretched and tail curled, claws clutching a great mace.

  Olivia realized she was pressing her back against the wall near the top of the stairs like she was hiding. She glanced at the other confused workers, who were clearly not afraid. Well, they just didn’t understand! She’d totally get thrown out on her butt if that noble saw her. She was already messing everything up! Eep – they were coming upstairs!

  Stephan and Lady Delacroix walked into processing, still having their discussion. Somehow, they both missed seeing her; instead turning away toward another larger office on the opposite side. They paused, exchanged a last word, before Lady Delacroix disappeared through the doorway.

  Stephan adjusted his hat, turned, and spotted Olivia. He Frowned. Shook his head. Approached.

  “Look, I know armor can make you feel safer, but,” Stephan bit his lip, clearly at a loss.

  Olivia scrunched her face up, and meekly said: “sorry, I-”

  “You know what?” Stephan held his hand up. “It’s fine today. Come on, your desk is over here.”

  Stephan showed her to an empty desk in the back corner. The first elevated tier over the desk contained drawers of writing utensils – on the right side. The second tier held stacks of parchment – also on the right side. On the left side, directly in the way of where a left-handed person might want their arm to be, was a small tier that held a lantern, currently snuffed.

  Olivia sat at the desk, fidgeting to position her tail down the side – this wasn’t a beastfolk chair, with a nice opening at the back.

  “So, today you’ll be verifying certified adventures,” Stephan explained. He plopped a heavy stack of parchments on her desk, all of them with a similar structure to their writing. He put a separate sheet down that explained all the criteria and exceptions for the various forms, as well as how to mark them down and seal them. After walking her through the process, he motioned to two small boxes on the top tier.

  “If it all looks good, it goes in the left box,” Stephan concluded, “and if it needs review, it goes in the right. If you’re ever not sure – just come ask!”

  Olivia nodded, desperately latching onto every word of his explanation.

  “Okay, lunch is in three hours,” Stephan said. “Welcome to the team, Olivia!”

  * * *

  Olivia had moved all the writing tools and everything to the left, but this was still just so awkward. The desk assumed a right-handed worker – so, she had to turn her chair diagonally to hold her quill left-pawed and write without knocking off the lantern. Despite this, she dutifully stacked her just-completed verification form into the “good” box. She smiled – this wasn’t nearly as hard as she’d thought! In the first hours, she’d only had to send one into the “bad” box.

  However.

  This next initiation form had a problem. Maybe? Um.

  Was it a problem that it was written in purple ink? The I’s were dotted with hearts. But – everything was correct? The pre-adventure parameters were like, really vague, but the debrief was incredibly specific, and all the signatures were there. Her guide sheet didn’t say anything about the color of ink, so – y’know what? Let’s ask Stephan!

  Olivia took the sheet and found Stephan in his office, writing a letter. He looked up as she approached.

  “Hey, is this one okay? It’s uh – purple,” Olivia asked, sliding the form to him. Stephan took it and furrowed his brow.

  “I have never seen that before,” Stephan remarked. “Magister, huh? It’s probably fine, but that’s a Demi question.”

  “What’s a Demi?” Olivia blinked.

  “Sorry, Lady Delacroix,” Stephan corrected himself. “Do me a favor and bring it to her?”

  Olivia’s stomach did a flip.

  “I’m not allowed to talk to a noble!” Olivia exclaimed. Stephan shook his head and laughed.

  “This isn’t the war anymore,” Stephan said, “she’s fine, just – y’know – respectful and all.”

  When it was clear that she wasn’t getting out of interacting with that fancy lady, her shoulders drooped in defeat. With a nod, she left Stephan’s office, fully expecting not to make it through her first day.