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Cadium
DO NOT ASK THE LIZARD WHY SHE HAS BREASTS!

DO NOT ASK THE LIZARD WHY SHE HAS BREASTS!

Chapter 17

The next morning, the group was startled awake by a familiar yet jarring alarm sound. Pierce leaped out of bed, instantly alert, only to realize the source of the cacophony. Ignis, chuckling, pulled his phone from his pocket and silenced the blaring "RED ALERT" morning alarm.

"Time to go to the market," Ignis declared.

"WHAT IN THE BLAZES, JERKFACE!" Flint exclaimed, rubbing his eyes and hitting Ignis playfully on the shoulder. "I was dreaming about a particularly alluring elf, and you interrupted the most tantalizing part!"

"Ah, you know what they say," Ignis said with a mischievous grin, "the early bird gets the worm. 3:35 AM is when I procure the finest meats, fruits, and vegetables for the restaurant. Seems I neglected to stow my phone in my inventory." He offered a sheepish apology to the group.

"Everyone, right now, I want you to retrieve your phones and silence all alarms and notifications," Pierce commanded, already pulling out his own device. "I'm not interested in instigating a brawl because someone's virtual axolotl egg hatched in some ridiculous Roblox game." With a determined air, Pierce proceeded to meticulously silence all alarms, notifications, and sounds within his phone's settings.

"Weird, my phone is still at 90% and I haven't seen a charger in almost two days," Evolon remarked, mirroring Pierce's actions.

"It seems your Cadium Inventory functions much like a bag of holding," Pierce observed, checking his own phone's battery percentage. "Anything placed within appears to exist in a state of stasis or temporal freeze, even affecting the degradation of phone batteries."

"Grok, does food expire or lose its temperature within the inventory void?" Ignis inquired, turning to the Orc.

"Grok has Stew in inventory from years ago, still hot, still good," Grok responded, pulling a small pot of steaming stew from her inventory before seamlessly returning it to the void.

"Alright, let's plan our day, everyone," Pierce declared, launching into his morning routine as if he were leading a team of administrators through a network outage. "We're not on Earth, so there's no restaurant to run, no work to attend to, no dreaded 'Monday blues,' no afternoon naps in the car, and certainly no post-work ride at the Castle. What are our priorities? What do we need? What do we desire? And how can we achieve these goals as efficiently and effortlessly as possible?"

"First, coffee. Then food. Then meeting," Evolon declared with a determined glare.

"Ignis, you're the cook, and you're an early riser," Pierce pointed out. "If we need to establish watch shifts, I vote you get the last one before dawn. That way, you can prepare a meal just like in D&D." As Pierce spoke, Ignis efficiently produced a camp stove, coffee, and the necessary accessories, setting them up on a table just outside the bunkroom.

"Our initial priorities were stealth, secure communication, the ability to disguise our appearances, gathering information on the captive humans, locating portals off this rock, and, of course, finding a way back home," Pierce stated, reviewing his handwritten checklist. "We can check off a few of those and establish new priorities and goals for today."

"We're running low on jerky," Flint complained, his gaze fixated on the sizzling eggs and bacon at Ignis' workstation. "Not a top priority, but if we could acquire some travel rations that don't make me want to vomit, that would be greatly appreciated."

"Provisions are on Ignis," Pierce acknowledged, adding "provisions" to his list. "Now, what else, everyone? There are no stupid answers."

"Find and save as many captured humans as we can. Find a way home, and get them there," Evolon declared, the weight of countless faces they were unable to save during their time hunting on Earth heavy in her voice.

"Find and kill the asshole that dared fuck with Earth," Flint growled from his forge, the rhythmic pounding of the bellows echoing his words. "We need to 'Enders Game' his ass so hard no one will even think of going there again."

"While I'm not a proponent of genocide," Pierce conceded, "I'm certain we can find a way to deliver a suitably… impactful response." He added "retribution" to the list with a grim nod.

"Money," Grok interjected.

"We need money for information, goods, and services," Pierce acknowledged. "I have an idea about that, though. Grok, do you know any information brokers in the city who might be willing to work with us, and against the… entities that invaded Earth? I understand your clan was involved, but I'm hoping to find someone who wasn't directly complicit."

"Grok left Clan Zotto when Bromli was the only Drake left in the stables, but Zotto has been on the decline for many generations. We were once great rulers in Dunblag, but are now relegated to low-level invasions on magicless worlds. In the decline, many have left, and many spies for competing clans have tried to poach Grok. Yes, Grok can find information for The Donner Party," Grok said, a sadness clouding her features.

"I understand how difficult it is to go against your family," Evolon said, placing a comforting hand on Grok's shoulder. "I was disowned by mine because I refused to follow the family business. I enjoy the outdoors and have so many ideas on how to improve the things we use to explore and enjoy it. I simply couldn't sit in courtrooms all day, or endure those interminable meetings about how to keep a billionaire from paying taxes."

"Dude! Having an Asian mom sucks and all, but Grok here was literally sold off to invade a planet over some glowing rocks," Ignis exclaimed, handing Evolon her coffee.

"Guys, suffering is not a competition. Our families all equally suck," Pierce interjected, steering the conversation back on track. "Money, Information, Humans, Portal, BBEG. Can we all agree on these items and their priority?"

The entire team confirmed the list as the grinding of stone on stone echoed from the hidden door.

"GOOD MORNING, my friends! I trust you slept well, and what is this… this divine aroma?" Gustavo exclaimed, sniffing the air near the coffee press.

"Oh, I forgot how Grok first reacted to coffee," Ignis chuckled, pouring a fresh cup into a ceramic mug for Gustavo. "Here you go. Sugar? Cream? Both?"

"He looks like a 'four lumps and heavy cream' kind of guy," Flint observed, sizing up the cat-man merchant with a grin.

After adding the sugar and cream as requested, Ignis handed Gustavo the steaming beverage. The entire group fell silent, anticipation building as they waited for Gustavo's reaction.

Gustavo took the cup, pulling it close to his nose to deeply inhale the aroma of freshly ground coffee mingling with the sweetness of the sugar and the delicate scent of cream, artfully poured into a heart shape. A genuine, wide smile erupted across his face. Taking his first sip, Gustavo's eyes widened in surprise. "I must know everything about this drink," he declared. "Your items can arm a few hundred warriors, but entire planets would sell their grandmothers for this!"

"Yes, it reminds me of the ceremonial drink at the pre-battle feast!" Grok exclaimed, sipping from her own mug. "It awakens the spirit and body for the day."

"That would be a great Folgers Crystals ad!" Evolon chuckled.

"It's no Starbucks, but I guess my spirit is sufficiently awakened," Pierce joked.

"STARBUCKS?!" Ignis exclaimed, his voice rising with the cadence of someone who has repeated this sentiment countless times. "Burned bean garbage! I taste and source each bag of fresh beans, personally roast them to perfection, then grind them before pressing. My beans won the 2021 World Barista Championship, and placed four other times since I embarked on my quest for the perfect coffee!"

"You must show me to your supplier," Gustavo declared, greed gleaming in his eyes as he savored the steaming drink. "This beverage could ignite an economic boom on this planet."

"You and Ignis can work on bringing Earth's food and drinks over to Magicland later," Flint grumbled, slapping Gustavo on the shoulder, causing a small amount of hot coffee to spill. "Could you imagine the rest of the group sitting here and listening to these two take over the world with pizza, hamburgers, coffee, and ice cream? It would be so excruciatingly boring, I'd rather take a hammer to my own head."

"Is it… weird that he's drinking the coffee like a normal person?" Evolon asked, tilting her head in confusion.

"Do you expect me to lap it up like some common beast?" Gustavo retorted with a scowl.

"Regardless," Pierce interjected, "I had a few questions for you, Gustavo. We need information, and I was hoping for an advance on the auction proceeds to get some things done today."

"How much of an advance?" Gustavo asked, his reluctance evident.

"We need some information before we can determine the exact amount," Pierce replied.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"Ahhh, the information brokers in this city are notorious for overcharging and under-delivering," Gustavo chuckled, handing over a dozen tickets to the auction. "Here, this should suffice. Just let them glimpse a low-grade enchanted blade or breastplate, no more than two tickets per broker, and you'll know the Grand Chief's mistress's favorite meal in no time."

"This should work," Pierce agreed. "I think Gustavo, Evolon, Flint, and Ignis should go acquire provisions, while Grok and I gather information."

"Bro, I love you, but you know the cardinal rule: never split the party!" Ignis exclaimed, pulling out an extra plate and serving Gustavo a generous portion of eggs, bacon, and toast. He then neatly plated the remaining breakfast and stowed it away in his inventory.

"This isn't D&D, and there isn't some evil DM trying to kill us," Pierce remarked. "We're just normal people exploring a new place. What could possibly go wrong?"

"He said the thing," Flint exclaimed, slapping Pierce on the back. The force of the blow sent Pierce's yolk-soaked toast flying, leaving a streak of yellow across his cheek. "Now things are definitely going to go sideways, and you'll probably end up with some absurdly overpowered magical ability."

"Everything will be fine," Pierce assured the group, trying to calm their nerves. "Just be careful, keep a low profile, and absolutely no unnecessary fighting! If things go south, meet back here or at the storefront where we first met Gustavo."

"We're doomed," Evolon groaned, sinking back into her chair.

"The last time you said that, we ended up swimming in a volcano," Ignis chuckled. "That might actually be okay now, with my newfound resistance to fire."

"Finish up your breakfast, Grok," Pierce instructed, pulling out a pair of sunglasses and sliding them onto his face. "We're off to gather some intel!"

"Grok like your eye mask," Grok asked, eyeing Pierce's sunglasses with interest. "Do you have an eye mask for Grok?"

Evolon, with a mischievous glint in her eye, pulled out a pair of oversized, star-shaped Elton John glasses. "I have an extra pair for you, Grok!" she declared, handing them to the Orc.

"Do they make Grok look sneaky?" Grok inquired, adjusting the glasses with a tentative hand.

"You look fabulous, darling!" Evolon exclaimed, bursting into laughter.

"If the tickets don't work," Gustavo said, handing Pierce a small pouch of gold coins, "take these with you."

"If I'm not back in three hours, just wait longer!" Pierce declared, crouching low and humming the Mission Impossible theme song as he exited the hidden room with Grok.

"Drama Queen!" Evolon shouted as the door began to close, plunging the passageway into near darkness.

Grok led Pierce through a series of winding passages that eventually opened onto a circular set of stairs that seemed to ascend endlessly. After fourteen dizzying revolutions, they finally emerged onto a short rooftop, the two-story building dwarfed by the towering skyscrapers that hemmed it in on three sides.

Without hesitation, Grok leaped from the second-floor landing, landing with a soft thud in a pen filled with squealing, bright red pigs. Pierce, taking a deep breath, followed suit, jumping from the two-story building into a small pile of hay. He felt a slight sting in his heels as he landed, instinctively rolling to dissipate the impact.

"Why fall like that?" Grok inquired.

"I learned to take a dive during my mountain bike training," Pierce explained. "Rolling like that spreads the impact force over a longer period, allowing for a longer fall without sustaining significant damage. Though, it seems unnecessary here."

"Cadium-reinforced bodies can withstand much more than that," Grok commented through their mental link. "Stay close, stay silent, and move with the shadows."

Taking off at a sprint that would have made Usain Bolt jealous, Pierce realized the rest of the party had been moving at a normal human pace. He suddenly became aware of a newfound agility, strength, and flexibility. He effortlessly leaped over a ten-foot rock wall without even breaking stride, a grin splitting his face. Lost in the exhilaration of his newfound abilities, Pierce reveled in the sheer joy of movement, leaping over obstacles and navigating the urban jungle with an almost supernatural grace.

After what felt like only a few exhilarating moments, Grok's voice returned to his mind through their mental link. "We are here. Trunagl is the small Orc there selling the Lockfruit. We approach together. I do the talking until we are alone."

"What is a Lockfruit?" Pierce inquired, curiosity piqued.

"The orange fruit," Grok explained. "When cooked, it opens like a mouth. You scoop out the insides and eat. When it cools, the mouth slams shut, sometimes locking onto the arm of the slow eater. Is much fun around the campfire."

Pierce chuckled, imagining the chaotic scenes that must unfold around a campfire with these mischievous fruits.

"Killer pumpkin, got it," Pierce muttered under his breath as they approached the fruit vendor.

"LOCKFRUIT! TEN FOR ONE GOLD!" the orc, a full head shorter than Grok, shouted to the passing crowd.

"How much for the lot?" Grok inquired, her voice firm.

"Ahh, a bulk order," Trunagl said, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You must be feeding a sizable clan. Come, come, let us discuss the details." He gestured towards a rounded doorway leading into a mud hut nestled behind his fruit stall.

Moving through several rooms, each door closing silently behind them, they finally entered a windowless room furnished with a small table and two chairs. Grok and Trunagl took their seats, while Pierce glanced around for a third chair, only to find the room was surprisingly spartan.

"What can I get you, old friend, Grok of the Zotto Clan?" Trunagl asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"It is now Grok of the Donner Party," Grok corrected, yielding the floor to Pierce.

"We wish to know more about the invading party of Earth," Pierce began, "who financed it, where the Humans that were taken are, how to procure them, and the means of getting them back home."

"Is that so?" Trunagl squinted at Pierce, his eyes narrowed. "A difficult one is this. I can do this, but it will not be cheap."

"Inspect this," Pierce said, holding out the sword hilt for Trunagl to examine.

The small orc carefully scrutinized the hilt, his eyes widening. "Over 40 total damage. This could wipe out half the city in a warrior's hands." He sized up Pierce and Grok, a flicker of apprehension crossing his face before disappearing.

"One ticket to the Auction of 6 items of this quality or better later this week," Pierce said, handing over a yellow token. "If we like the information you give, a second ticket could be yours."

Trunagl's eyes widened again. "Ahhh, so that's what Gustavo has been up to," he muttered, the apprehension replaced by a greedy glint in his eyes as he accepted the ticket.

"I guess he does know a thing or two," Pierce remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Tell me," Trunagl inquired, his eyes narrowing, "what do you know of the Doombringer?"

"Dungbringer?" Grok scoffed. "The Councilmember that failed upwards so many times through sheer luck and treachery?"

"That one," Trunagl confirmed. "Word is he was about to be demoted from the Council permanently when the Seeker reported about some Cadium on a zero-magic world in the middle of nowhere."

"What about my people?" Pierce interrupted, cutting off the two Orcs who seemed to be on the verge of regaling him with humorous anecdotes about the incompetent invader.

"Doombringer had them all exported to his planet for interrogation," Trunagl explained. "He paid quite a bit in taxes and extra charges to skip the stockyard and auctions."

"Bribes," Grok clarified.

"My information stops at the Doombringer Portal," Trunagl explained. "As little has come back this way since the invasion failed. They were very worked up about losing their portal masters and the connection to this Earth. Also, coming back empty-handed means their desperate play was at a heavy loss in prestige and gold.

"It seems old Dungbringer financed the invasion based on promises of a percentage of the Cadium gained to the leaders of the Zotto clan, who were poised to become Council Members themselves. The Zottos are working themselves up into a frenzy, but we all know it's suicide to enter their planet with millions of undead waiting to add more to their collection."

"Thank you for the information," Pierce said, holding the second ticket in his hand. "I hope you don't mind us confirming it before you get the rest of your payment."

"I would never tell a lie," the short orc exclaimed, feigning shock with a theatrical flourish.

"Come, we now go to his competition to see what they have to say," Grok growled, her voice low and menacing. "Either he gets paid, or he loses a limb."

Grok and Pierce navigated the bustling bazaar, eventually stopping at a stall run by a lizard man who was busily grilling meat on a stick.

"This is great!" Pierce exclaimed, pulling the last piece of tender, juicy meat off the stick. "What did you say this meat is?"

"Grilled Human," the nameless lizard man barked, a hiss accompanying his words.

"He is joking," Grok interjected. "Human meat is much more expensive, and fattier than this. I suspect Linax meat."

"If you say so, Warrior," the lizard man replied, unconcerned, as he rotated the other sticks over the grill.

"Where would you have gotten this Human meat from, I wonder?" Grok asked, fixing the lizard man with a chilling glare.

"This way, let me show you my stock," the lizard man said, barking an order at a smaller green lizard woman to take over the grill. "SSASSRRAA!"

"Wait, did that female Lizard have breasts?" Pierce asked over the mental link, his mind boggled. "How does that even work? Lizards are cold-blooded, not mammals..."

"DO NOT ASK THE LIZARD WHY SHE HAS BREASTS!" Grok roared over the mental link, clearly exasperated.

"I guess this proves the whole Snitty debate once and for all," Pierce announced over the Donner Party's shared mental chat, much to the amusement of the others.

The ensuing mental conversation quickly devolved into a heated debate about how and why snakes would have breasts, how they would feel, and whether or not they would require bras.

"Are all humans as obsessed with milk glands as you four?" Grok asked dryly, clearly bewildered by their sudden fascination with lizardian anatomy.

"YES!" the humans all chorused simultaneously over the mental link.

Heading back across the bustling bazaar, Pierce paid the small Orc his ticket before returning to the hidden underground room.

"How did the provisions go?" Pierce inquired, settling back into his chair.

"So good! I could spend a month in that market!" Ignis exclaimed, pulling out racks of smoked meat, exotic fruits, and other delicacies from his inventory.

"I had to stop him from tasting everything," Gustavo complained with a huff. "He offended half the vendors, calling their meat rotten or their fruit overripe."

"That's my chef alright," Pierce chuckled. "Well, I have good news and bad news. The good news is I know where we need to go. The bad news is it's a land of undeath ruled by an idiot edgelord."

"Lead the way," Flint growled, flexing his massive arms and brandishing his hammer. "I'll smash 'em!"

"After the auction, I can arrange safe passage through the portal," Gustavo explained. "We have a hub of offworld portals, but Doombringer is not a popular location, so precautions will need to be made."

"Fine, I'll do this 'EBAY' thing," Flint grumbled, "but then promise I'll get to smash things!" He pulled out his massive hammer, a predatory glint in his eyes.