Lucid dreaming.

Initiating Stellar Dive: Dreamwalker Mode ~ Ulthar, the City of Cats
-Simulating Hypnos Delusion-
-Monitoring Schrödinger Paradox-
-Composing Advent Terminus-
-Initiate Ersatz Wakening-

John expected a shimmering wall of translucent glass-water to indicate the barrier he’d formed, or at least something he could walk through. Instead, as the spell faded, he found himself stumbling on dizzy feet. He felt completely drained. John stumbled over to the spinning chair at his desk and collapsed into it, eyes closing as he could no longer keep them open.

All this happened as another John watched from where the original had stood. He held up translucent hands, looking down at himself as the world around him warped and stretched into a colorless swirl of mana and energy. The ground beneath his feet gave way, liquefying into a black sea full of vivid colors. Aquamarine, orchid pink, blazing red, brilliant starlight white; an ocean of every possible reality.

He slipped under, leaving nothing but a ripple behind.

Desperately gasping for breath, John collapsed to his hands and knees. His fingers found and dug into the solid surface of a cobblestone street, nails dragging along the mismatched stones. A cough dislodged the phantom specter of water from his lungs and John inhaled deeply.

“Well, that was dramatic,” an effeminate tone utterly bathed in amused curiosity called out to him. “Something about you smells different from most dreamers, I do hope you aren’t allergic. Although, it is rather fun to watch you humans break out into hives.” The speaker’s voice was broken by a noise that could only be described as a purr.

John pushed himself to his feet, only to look up into the furry face of a beautiful, snow-white cat perched atop the wall beside him. It tilted its head to one side and ruffled the mane of fluffy hair around its throat with a lick.

“Uh… hello?” he asked.

In reply, the cat eyed him with surprising humanity. They stared at each other for a second before his suspicions were confirmed. “Not allergic then, likely for the best. Remember the law, dreamer,” it spoke again, with finality. John stared in slight disbelief as it, or more likely ‘she’, shook out her fur and started walking away.

“Wait!” John called after her. “What law?”

Leaping up onto a windowsill, she turned to affix him with with a piercing look, “Do not kill a cat.” Then she was gone, vanishing through the open window and into the first floor of whatever the building was. John considered going after her… but he wasn’t about to trespass in a city he’d only just reached.

He took a moment to look around and take in his surroundings properly. The buildings around him were tightly constructed in an unusual style he’d never seen before: a blend of medieval and Victorian architecture. Iron and stone intermingled with painted wood, the shingled rooftops were square instead of triangular and everything seemed to have a couple more windows than were strictly necessary. Many of them were conjoined or connected somehow, but there were archways between several to allow the street to continue wherever it led. A sign said ‘Hemlock Lane’.

John pulled his phone out and checked the signal status; to his surprise, it was picking up something. Using Gorbachev-Maps, he investigated where he was.

Hemlock Lane seemed to be a pedestrian street in the southern quarter of the city, whereas 1292 Sycamore Avenue was on the edge of the central ‘cathedral district’. The application told him it was just over thirty minutes away on foot. He confirmed the destination and began following along what was hopefully an accurate route.

Ten minutes later, John found himself leaving the back alleys and on a much larger street. Here there was enough space between the buildings to allow the bright sunlight through, and he had to shade his eyes with one hand. The blue sky above was filled with soft clouds and something that he wasn’t expecting. There were two suns.

Definitely not on Earth anymore. Alright then...

When he was adjusted to the brightness, John got a proper look at Ulthar.

The city was built upon a hill, with the buildings ascending steadily on one side towards a distant massive cathedral. On the other side, they stretched down and outwards, a sea of rooftops, spires and chimneys with the occasional visible street. Lampposts and benches lined the wall of the overlooking side, while bridges connected the tallest floors of lower buildings around him with the lowest floors of those above. It was a chaotic mess of a city that seemed to be unable to determine what century it was from. John… had no idea what to make of it.

Flags rippled in the wind from the tops of spires, birds nested among the tallest rooftops, smoke rose from a chimney here and there, and he could make out the distant sound of cartwheels on stone… but above all else, there were the cats!

Everywhere he looked, John could see at least a handful of cats. Some prowled along the lower rooftops, others lounged in the sunlight on one of the benches or along the disjointed bridges and balconies that kept everything together. A weather vane that stuck out of a spired roof was shaped like a cat and visible in a distant square...

Yep, that’s a giant cat statue.

At least he knew why it was called ‘the City of Cats’.

Ulthar was only part of the spectacle. John was high enough to be able to see past the rooftops. To his right spread a vast forest that was broken only by a single mountain that pierced the clouds. From somewhere within ran a river that crossed his vision, splitting the grasslands at the base of the city and curving out of view past the lower foothills of a range of mountains. Beyond that, in the far distance, he could see tall, black, spirelike towers. Even further was a shining glimmer of blue, an ocean.

John stared at the fantastical view, until he was distracted by a popup.

XIX - The Sun
Depicting the luminary wonder at the root of all life, The Sun shows there is always hope beyond even the greatest despair, no matter how dark a situation might be.

Incarnation: Radiance
Renew any number of targets within 30 meters, restoring 5% maximum hp per round for rounds equal to your character level.

The card descended to his outstretched hand, and John took it with silent reverence. It was a welcome addition to his skills, but there was undeniably something unsettling about the text that had accompanied it. Still… come what may, it’d be useful to have.

John dismissed the card and checked his phone again, refreshing his bearings and directions.

“He looks lost.”
“Who?”
“Perhaps he’s a novice, he smells like dirt.”
“The dreamer. The one just over there.”
“Thistle, don’t be rude.”
“Like you’re one to talk, Princess.”
“I think he smells rather nice, like spring ferns…”

Voices drew John’s attention to a cluster of cats to his left. Six, in various shades and patterns, were scattered about the sunlight.

“You should get your nose checked.”
“Shhh, you’re being rather rude. He’s looking at us.”
“Oh? Hello, darling. Just ignore us.”
“Apologies, my good dreamer.”
“Don’t pretend to be sorry if you aren’t, Harold.”
“Beatrice! I’m trying to be polite!”
“Well, you’re failing miserably.”
“Nobody asked your opinion, Pearl!”

It was impossible to follow the train of conversation as they interrupted and talked over one another, and the chaos only worsened when two of the cats started hissing at each other, a tabby and a silver persian, presumably Harold and Pearl.

“You daft biddy!”
“Don’t call me that, you’re not exactly a spring kitten yourself!”
“Why you little…”
“Both of you, you’re making a terrible impression.”

One of them with midnight-black fur got to her feet and sauntered over. She leapt up onto the bench beside where John stood and sat back on her haunches. Behind her, the fight escalated and managed to pull in a third cat as things became physical.

“Mollies will be mollies, and toms will be toms. You understand how it is. Charcoal,” the cat proffered a paw, and John gently took it.

“Pleased to meet you?” he managed.

“Likewise. Mind if I accompany you?” she looked back to the growing tumble of cats and sighed. “Anything’s better than being stuck with that lot.” John recognized her voice now, the one that had described him as smelling like flowers.

He shrugged, “Sure, I could use someone who knows the city.”

Charcoal flicked her tail, and her ears perked up. “You are new then?” she asked.

John wasn’t sure what to make of the cat’s apparent eagerness at that idea and considered lying to her. Only… what good would that do? He was an outsider, and it would be useful to talk to someone who knew the city.

“Yeah, is it that apparent?”

“A bit. The experienced dreamers don’t stare as much,” Charcoal climbed the bench and walked along it. “Shall we? I can show you some of the nicer parts of the city.” John didn’t miss the way the cat seemed to wince as she looked back at her tussling friends.

He checked the path again and put his phone back into his inventory, “Actually, I was hoping to go somewhere specific. Do you know how to get to 1292 Sycamore Avenue?

“They never came back?” John asked with discomfort as they walked over a small bridge. Beneath it, a trickling river fed a tall wooden water wheel and then fell as a waterfall to a lower district.

“No… it was years before the new dreamers arrived. Entire generations lived without meeting a single one,” Charcoal jumped down from a windowsill to walk over the bridge, having to rush a bit to match John’s pace. She spoke again once he slowed down to give her a chance to breathe, “While they were gone, we stayed. The city stayed as it was too.”

John stared at the stones of the nearest building as they passed by it. They didn’t look like they were hundreds of years old… “You mean nothing’s changed since?”

“For as long as I can remember, no.”

They both walked in silence for a little while after as John digested the what he’d been told. Sure, the streets had seemed empty of humans for a city this big, but he’d never expected the reason to be World War II… The ‘waking world’, as Charcoal described it, had more influence on the Dreamlands than he thought. Still, he wasn’t the only dreamer around. They passed another cluster of cats, piled on the lap of an elderly European woman who was sitting on a bench. She raised a hand to wave at them, and John returned the gesture.

“Ah! Here we are,” Charcoal stopped in front of a two-story building that resembled most of the rest on the street. Greasy windows obscured whatever was inside, but there was a hanging sign that depicted a mug with an x carved into it. Above was the word ‘Crossroad’ and below was ‘Tavern’. John’s deed was to a bar. Not what he’d expected… though he wasn’t sure what that’d been either. Hopefully it wasn’t as full of spiders as it looked.

The Crossroad Tavern has been added to the map!

John pushed on the doors, and they swung open on surprisingly well oiled hinges, revealing a dark interior. Dust hovered in the air, visible in the scant illumination that filtered through the windows and from the door. Clearly, the magic that sustained the buildings didn’t keep them clean…

Charcoal wrinkled her nose then sneezed loudly. She trotted over to one of the windows and perched herself on the sill, looking over at John. “I’ll stay out here. Have fun,” once she’d finished speaking, the cat rubbed the back of one of her paws against her nose to try and rid herself of the dust. It only made her sneeze again.

Alone, John ventured into the gloom, heading straight for the counter of the inn’s bar against the back left wall. He picked his way around a pair of tables and nearly stumbled over something in the dim lighting. Standing up, he propped up the stool he’d caught his leg on and brushed it down. Once he had, John sat on it and looked around his new property.

There were four tables on the first floor, three out front and one in the back, as well as seating along the windows that bordered the entrance. It was enough seating for easily thirty or forty people, and that was discounting the second floor. A set of stairs led above the bar, mirrored by a second set against the opposite wall, to an overhanging area just above it. It was too dark to explore up there without a light, but from what he’d been able to make out when he entered, John guessed there was probably enough space for a couple more tables at least. Behind the bar was a stereotypical rack of **** and two swinging doors that led to a room that he surmised was a kitchen. Another full door was placed behind the back table and led god knows where.

Standing up, John wiped a hand through the dust on the bar, revealing the faint outline of his reflection in it’s lacquered surface. He’d need to do a lot of work to get this place running again, but at least it seemed pretty fancy underneath the mess. Using his phone as a flashlight, John climbed the stairs above the bar, finding them a bit creaky but otherwise safe. As he’d surmised, there were two tables on the second floor, along with seating at a shelf along the overhang. There were also three closed doors. He tried one: locked. So, he had the deed to the building, but not the keys? Maybe they were behind the bar.

Or maybe someone took them, since it was pretty easy to just walk in here...

When he got back downstairs, he paused to stare at the bar. Perched not far from his propped-up seat was a bowl of… what looked like peanuts. A bowl that had definitely not been there a minute ago. He approached it cautiously and picked one up, half expecting it to bite or something. It didn’t. It was… just a peanut. A fresh one.

So… what? Haunted by a peanut-loving bar ghost or something? How did I even get this place again?

No matter how hard he wracked his mind, John couldn’t remember either how he’d acquired the bar or if the former owner had mentioned any kind of ghost problems. It was a mystery that he’d hopefully solve… someday. For now, he put the peanut back.

He paused as it dropped from his fingers and into the glass bowl with a clink. Above it, floating several inches away, was a prompt that flickered slightly.

Would you like to hire a Barkeep?
1 Soul Shard / $10,000 / No

Shit, that’s expensive...

John stared at the option, considering it. It was expensive, at least for his current finances, and there was no clear benefit to doing so. Yet… the window was there for a reason, and that was enough to give him some pause. He sighed; would it kill the Developer to explain some things?

Hiring a Barkeep will unlock the personal rooms of the Crossroad Tavern, upkeep the facilities and attend to the needs of guests. Profit from the tavern will be put first towards maintenance and expenses, but any leftovers may be spent on upgrades.

Huh. She must be listening… Uh, is that a good thing?

John made a mental note not to be overly antagonistic towards the Developer for a bit. If she was paying attention, who knew what chaos she could add to his already messy life.

Regardless, he had a new reason to consider the Barkeep. He leaned against the bar while he considered the benefits againsts the cost. Ten thousand wasn’t all that much in comparison to most of the other things he’d wanted to buy, but it was enough to set back his personal expenditures for a while… until he sold the rest of the hydra parts to make up for it. Surely that would cover the cost and leave him with leftovers to still go shopping on the auction?

To hell with it. If he had money but didn’t spend it, then it did him no good. John pressed the option to expend a Soul Shard and hire a Bearkeep. It blinked out of existence, and he looked around his surroundings, half expecting his new employee to instantly appear. Instead, candles along the walls lit up and cast a warm inviting glow about the place. Dust vanished from the tables and chairs and the grime on the windows evaporated, letting the summer sunlight fully illuminate the tavern. It only took a matter of seconds for the place to change from abandoned to vibrantly alive!

John tried to imagine what his Barkeep would look like as he waited for whatever came next. Maybe they’d be a grizzled adventurer, with scars and the kind of endearing gruffness that came with the position… or better yet, a curvy wench! A heavy footfall outside drew his attention to the door, which creaked open and was filled by the shadow of a large man.

The former then. Wait, hang on.

As he stared at the figure that entered his Tavern, John could swear he’d read the prompt wrong. The text had flickered a bit when he’d tapped on it, and there might’ve been an extra ‘e’ in the wrong place, but surely it hadn’t said what he thought… it... said.

Bearnard
Level 10 Bearkeep
<Definitely Human>

Fuck.

His employee fell to all fours, padding into the tavern. It sniffed at the air, towards him, then walked through the tables towards the bar. John froze as it nudged up the barrier to the bar, letting it rest against its back, then click down behind it once it was through. Once comfortable behind the bar, John’s bearkeep sat and hooked a glass off the shelf behind it with a single claw. With the other paw, it… he… shoved a cloth into the mug and twisted it around. Then he roared at John, softly.

Okay. I… ok.

He stared in stunned surprise at the bear, the literal grizzly bear, that was now tending to the bar. There were so many questions and no answers. John’s brain threw up one for an attempt at rational thought. The cats had spoken, maybe uh… ‘Bearnard’ could too?

“Um… uh… hello?” he managed.

Bearnard grunted back and sniffed at the air, turning to grab a bottle off the shelf with his teeth. With surprising dexterity, his bearkeep set it on the wood and uncorked it naturally with a claw. A glass was produced and filled swiftly, before being set in front of John’s seat. He looked at the bottle, unlabeled… but it didn’t smell like ****.

Fuck it.