Unchosen Champion

Coop’s routine was interrupted even before it started. Jett was gone before he woke up and none of his companions were interested in joining him, not even Sunny! Inside the fort, The Clumsy Shark was closed to customers, and everyone was busy diligently preparing, from the contracted residents closing their shops to complete commissions, to the phantoms and the residents applying new professions or old skills to work on last-minute projects. Everyone was filling a role. Everyone except Coop.

The Champion was repeatedly shooed away from the open air kitchens that had spawned in the grassy area behind the cafe and Vronk’s bakery. An assortment of enticing smells drifted across the fortress, but Coop wasn’t allowed to offer his taste testing services or sous chef expertise. The residential apartments overlooked hundreds of tents, like there was some kind of food festival setting up in the open grassy areas of the courtyard. The area hadn’t been developed because it was demarcated for future residential development or greenspace and Marcus was deciding whether or not to use system construction or human development based on the options offered after the next settlement upgrade.

Citizens, human and phantom, were hustling back and forth with massive crates of ingredients, while others mixed them in enormous specially purchased cauldrons, wearing aprons and not just a few chef hats. Apparently, several residents had taken cooking related professions and used their windfalls from the siege event to commission profession specific gear with unique bonuses. Overnight, the Ghost Reef atmosphere had shifted from one that concentrated on class levels to one that honed profession levels with equal seriousness.

Coop wanted to help, but everyone he spoke to insisted that they had it under control, and some even suggested the Champion stick to his own lane, which the consensus agreed was grinding monsters.

“The skills are transferable.” Coop insisted to Emmanuel, who had been conscripted into protecting the workers from any busybodies, which seemed to be Coop and a few curious Chosen animals, all attracted by the delicious aromas.

“Of course they are.” Emmanuel gladly agreed. “Still can’t let you in there, though.” His perfunctory followup statement came dryly.

As they approached the first big party, they were all working hard to complete last minute preparations. Laurie’s wedding planner friend had coordinated the entire settlement into a frenzy, and they still had time before the event. A party with around 8,000 guests was a massive undertaking and required significant preparations. It was only now that they bubbled up to the surface. Orders and preliminary setup for the materials they would need for the physical venue as well as the ingredients for the food had taken place over the last two weeks while Coop had still been on vacation, casually grinding monsters while catching up with various residents.

Coop was naturally attracted to the flurry of activity, but when he tried to sneak his way into the process for the third time, he received a ladle to the forehead as his comeuppance. The ladle was fine and the message was received.

Coop wandered toward the entrance of the fort, where another batch of assiduous workers were hammering and sawing. The woodworkers were busy creating foldable picnic benches, enough for thousands to be seated, since they planned on hosting the entire set of returned phantoms. They also had no need for Coop’s interference, even when he offered his prodigious strength for hauling materials.

Hana’s father, the principal of the new school, was among those sweating in the sun as they labored on the seating. “Nuh uh!” He warned as Coop moseyed in his direction, waving a single finger at him. “We’ve got it all handled.” He promised and pointed to the stacked piles of completed and folded tables lined up against the fort’s inner wall. Balor’s deep laugh followed as Coop left with his tail between his legs.

The completed party materials were neatly stacked around the edges of the repaired iron gate, all along the interior walls. There weren’t only tables ready to go, but there were also hundreds of kegs filling the shaded interior patios. Brewbot was gingerly adding another one before the robot resident returned to the brewery with a quick bow, acknowledging Coop but too busy to chat.

Instead of lingering on the fringes of the settlement’s activity, he mistjumped up to the ramparts, where the only other groups of excluded residents were busy patrolling, on guard duty. The phantoms nodded at him and a few smirked, knowing what Coop had been up to as they observed from their perches among the battlements. At this point, they had all been equipped with the Ghost Reef Standard Issue gear. The armory was so full of the slick gear, they almost had enough to completely regear the entire phantom army as soon as they returned.