Dirt. There is something about dirt that was soothing to Treks. He loved to smell it, to feel it between his claws, to burrow through it. Mostly because he was a sentient mole, albeit one the size of a human, but dirt was good. In his mind, everyone should love to be buried in dirt. It only made sense to utilize his natural affinity to augment his combat style.

Currently, he was beneath the dirt, easily pushing his way through while keeping track of the battle on the surface. His whiskers picked up the vibrations from the combat and gave him something of a three dimensional picture of what was above. Sensing that he was just behind his target, he sharply turned towards the surface. He broke through and using both his muscular, clawed hands and powerful feet launched himself out of his tunnel into a jump. He swung and his claws scraped across the armor of his target, a fellow adventurer trainee here at the Portal Trading Company.

The lights were quite bright, so Treks focused more on feeling the vibrations through his whiskers than relying on his sight. It was not as effective as when he was in the dirt, but it worked well enough. He continued to swipe at his opponent, who had turned their own attention to him, with his claws. Since his race had such pronounced claws on their hands, they were practically incapable of utilizing fine tools and many weapons, but they were sharp enough to be almost as good as mithril blades. With the combination of his burrowing and claws, Treks was training as a melee assassin type fighter, a rogue if you will.

A sharp whistle sound echoed through the chamber, signaling the end of the sparing duel. Treks lowered his claws and tugged the corners of his mouth upwards to initiate the equivalent of a smile, which with his proboscis-like snout did not come naturally.

“Ou dodgen me ag’in,” Treks said to the human man.

“It isn’t easy with the way you can just pop out like that. You almost had me,” the man replied with a laugh.

“O’ll git ou nix toyme for sures.”

With that, Treks walked over to the rest of the adventurer team he was a part of. Or rather it would be said that he waddled, since while his legs were strong, they were incredibly short.

Treks and his team were going through new employee training for adventurers to cover a myriad of situations that could potentially occur and lead to combat scenarios. It was considered to be a standard thing since many new recruits brought in had never used either manufactured weapons, innate weapons, or magic before. Manufactured weapons were everything from swords and bows to guns and cannons. Innate weapons were things like pincers, stingers, teeth, or claws.

There were four other members to Treks’ team. First there was Rumble, a being of living stone that was held together by magic. Underneath the tough exterior, Rumble was supposedly just as fleshy as Treks himself, though Treks had never seen the pile of rocks injured to confirm this. Second was Kik, a large ant-like being. Kik’s name was actually much longer and consisted of multiple clicking sounds that could only be produced with mandibles, so he went by Kik for everyone’s ease. Kik honestly looked very tasty to Treks, but he suppressed the urge when they were working together. The last two members of the group were Nalsa and Werri, who both were female dwarves. There was not much to say about them, but unlike Rumble, Kik, and Treks himself they could not dig through the dirt easily. Werri was good because she fixed Treks’ wounds when they occurred.

A PTC adventurer team had five general roles, thus why they had five people. There was a bulwark, who would protect the group and lure foes in. A fighter was second and covered anyone who operated in melee attacks, like Treks. There was a mage, who was the primary operator of magic in the team and tended to be the strategist as well. The sniper was a ranged attack specialist who split other duties with the fighter. And latest there was the medic, who patched everyone up but also offered other supportive items or magic. The medic also tended to be a team’s speaker. Looking at Treks team, Rumble was their bulwark, Kik was the mage, Nalsa was the sniper, and Werri the medic.

After having a brief meeting with his teammates about their strategy during the duel, they each went their respective ways. Their next training session was tomorrow, and they still had another three weeks to go before they were to be evaluated. Treks left the training field, one of many here at Headquarters, and made his way to the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was a massive space filled with a variety of tables and chairs to accommodate any race or species in groups of one to one hundred. Numerous lines around the edges offered various dishes from across the many worlds connected by PTC, giving everyone any food option or diet they could ever need or want.

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Treks waddled excitedly towards one line in particular, smelling a dish he had come to love since joining PTC. He could not help but rub his paws together in anticipation. After waiting in line behind some sort of tall, shaggy looking bear-person that only seemed to roar, it was his turn.

“Ot tubber zoup!” he said enthusiastically.

“Hello, Treks. Coming right up,” replied the human woman.

Briefly, Treks wondered how she had been able to understand the bear-person that had been before him. The thoughts were quickly put aside as the large bowl of ‘hot tuber soup’ was handed to him on an even larger tray.

“Tenks!” he said as he carefully walked away with the food.

He also stopped at another line to pick up something a little livelier to add to his soup while ordering a large tankard of a honey mead that he found enjoyable. Scanning for a place to sit, he sensed someone he had never sensed before sitting alone nearby.

“E’cus me? Mae Oi joinin ou?” Treks asked after arriving.

Now that he was closer, he could actually see the fox beastfolk girl sitting there. She was rather scrawny and had been nervously scanning the cafeteria as she ate. He had seen several people of a similar demeanor in the few months he had been here so far, and was able to guess that she was not only a new hire, but had likely been a slave.

“Sure,” she replied, though he could smell that she was unsure.

“Oi can leef ifin bee betterr.”

“No, it’s fine. You can stay.”

Treks set down his tray and took a seat across from her.

“Oim Treks. Oi loike meetin new peeble.”

He held out a clawed paw for a handshake, something a lot of the more humanoid races and species did. It was still an odd custom to him, but he did not think about it too much. She carefully took his paw and shook it.

“I’m Vixie. And I guess I am new. It’s a lot to take in being here.”

“Ore ou and’venture? Ore ore you partoff ‘taff?” he asked.

She took a moment to process his words, something he had grown accustomed to when talking with others since he could not pronounce many words as clearly as others.

“I’m supposed to be part of the staff. But this is only my second day here. I’m supposed to get a checkup today and start lessons tomorrow.”

Treks nodded in understanding. Adventurers and staff had a similar start in the first month of training, but then it diverged between the two for another three months.

“Um, Mr. Treks?”

“Hmm?”

“Are those worms?”

Treks glanced down at his tray. The ‘livelier’ addition he had picked up were indeed live earthworms. He nodded.

“Wat one?”

“No, thank you.”

He shrugged and picked up the bowl of earthworms, which was a little difficult because of his claws, and dumped the entire thing into his larger bowl of steaming soup.

“Gud ‘tuff,” he commented as he picked up the soup bowl.

Being that he lacked the fine control necessary to use utensils, Treks usually brought food as close to his mouth as possible. He bit through the red colored broth and picked up some of the contents to chew on happily. Hot tuber soup was a stew of root vegetables, primarily potatoes and carrots, that was seasoned with a spicy chili-like powder to give kick and heat. Coupled with the earthworms he added, Treks was a happy mole. As he set the bowl back down in between bites, he noticed Vixie looking at him strangely.

“Did Oi ‘pill?” he asked.

“No… it’s just… nevermind.”

Treks shrugged and took some more bites.

“Mr. Treks? Do you like it here?” Vixie asked.

“Gust Treks,” he replied, setting down his food again.

He paused as his mead was delivered.

“Why ou askin?”

Vixie seemed nervous.

“This is just… a lot to take in. I’ve never seen a lot of this stuff before and I have no idea what it is or what it does. I have a room to myself, with hot water and soaps and a soft bed and… well everything that nobles do!”

Treks tilted his head in confusion. He had heard of these nobles before from some of the other people he had talked to and they were mentioned in those early lessons, but the concept still confused him.

“Why’sin a probem?”

“I was a slave two days ago. Probably destined to be some nobleman’s… toy. Or a lady-of-the-night if I got lucky. But instead Mr. A showed up and offered a job to me. I don’t even know why.”

“Ee dun ‘ee sumtin in ou. It be lottum perkis ta orekin ere, butin it be nought asin eezy asin it be lookin. Ou gotum nenjoy um.”

Vixie was silent for a while, so Treks enjoyed his meal as she thought.

“Mr… Uh, Treks?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“Oure willcome. Ou surre ou dun be wattin a worm?”

“No, thank you.”