I fought the slime again. In my new gear. This time was different. My fear was still there; I could taste it thick in my throat but this time I felt more confidant.
My sword danced, no it didn’t. Dancing implies grace that I lacked but it did move more fluidly than before. The cuts went where they were supposed to and there was a lack of flailing.
The slime glowed in the dim ever present light of the lair, its gelatinous body reflecting my distorted image back at me as I lunged for its centre. The goo slide off my blade without marring it, which let me relax into the tempo of the fight, some of my fear alleviated.
My range of motion was hardly constrained at all in the armour and the added protection made me take more chances. As the slime tried to slam me again, I pushed my left hand into the slick substance of its being, reaching for its core.
An extended tendril reached out to slap me away, but I blocked it with my sword. My reaching hand tightened around something slightly less squishy and the slime shuddered, going still as if stillness could save it.
I pulled the core free and the slime dissolved into light, just like the first. But this time I could feel the mana from the lair infusing me. An exhilarating feeling that almost overpowered the sense of victory. The rush of energy filled my veins.
And then another slime came into view, larger and greener than the previous.
I put the core away and stepped into the fight. Eager and not at all scared now that I was buoyed by more power.
I leapt into action, no longer holding back. My fist punched as my sword lunged. I stepped away as the slime swelled above me, it had to be seven foot tall. And then it came crashing down on me. I was slammed into the floor, as mass of goo weighing more than me suffocating me.
I sunk into the flesh of the slime, its acid stinging my exposed skin, and my lungs burning for air. I closed my eyes as I went deeper.
Moving by feel alone I was buffeted by blows from inside its body, its core moving around bashing into me. I lashed out with a fist blindly. It did nothing. My sword cut, but it was cutting through a substance thicker than water. It made no impression.
This could be the end, I thought. My chest felt like it was bursting with the pressure of holding my breath, and then I felt it. The song of the lair.
The mana of the lair was all around me in the body of the slime and in my own. Drums of war pounding in my head and chimes tinkled away as if in the distance.
It surged through, my limbs strengthened and my mind quickened. There was no smart option, but giving up wasn’t one either. I fought frantically, realising that if I didn’t no help would come, and I would just passively accept defeat and death. That wasn’t what I'd worked so hard for. This isn’t the end of me. I smashed my gauntleted fist against the slime, its insides working hard but I felt the elastic surface from the inside and applied my blade. Cutting my way out from the inside I emerged into the light, and the slime fell apart behind me as I crawled away.
The lair taunted me with victory music, and the rush of power from the conquered creature. Slime evaporated off my body, leaving no mark on the armour or the weapons but I could feel the burns on my face and neck. I turned to look over my loot, expecting another core, and was pleasantly surprised at what I found.
A single core, larger than the other, and a blob of green goo. It wasn’t much but given that it was only my second day it was enough.
I looked briefly toward the distant entrance to the next room, and turned back to the exit. I wasn’t ready for that. This was almost more than I could handle. No chance of me surviving the next room, just yet, but I would be back.
I pocketed the loot and left.
The guild accepted it and gave me coins, coppers but it was something tangible for my work. I could feel the skin on my face stinging all the way home as the wind brushed it. Hopefully it would be seen as a mark of survival instead of failure. But I couldn’t control that so I did my best to put it from my mind as I walked strode through the streets of town.
I saw people looking and children smiling. I was once that child. I idolise the adventurers that fought back the encroachment of the monster. Each lair defeated gained us another inch, and the war on the dungeons had been going on for millennia. Each life given to the fight was another child that could be born, and rare enough in lands cleared. But the kingdom was small, it was young, this part at least.
Home was just as dilapidated. But with coins in my pouch I felt better about it. I could change it.
“Granny, are you about?” I called out once I entered the door.
“In the kitchen, Graey. What’s the problem?”
“No problem. I have a few coins for you. You said you wanted to fix this place up.”
I stepped through to the kitchen to see Granny stirring a pot over the battered iron stove, the smell rising from it reminded me that I hadn’t eaten all day.
“It’s just vegetable soup. Meat is getting expensive again. So we may have to tighten our belts this winter, but coin is always welcome.”
“I’m sorry it’s not more, but low grade drops aren’t worth much.”
“You are just starting out. It’s enough. Don’t do anything stupid for me. I would miss you.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
“What happened to your face? It’s all red.”
“Slime. It tried to eat me. I killed it, but it burnt me.”
“Sit at the table; I have something that may help with that.”
I sat, there wasn’t much else I could do, and looked around while Granny bustled round the small kitchen seeking whatever it was she was looking for. The place was cosy, in a very run down way. Wooden planks, warped by the years and the changes in temperature and moisture that afflicted kitchens, covered the dirt floor, a legacy of her husband, I assumed.
The rack for the cookware that hung above the stove had seen better days, but then it all had.
Better days would come again. I would make them.
Granny brought a small earthenware pot over to the table, and stood over me.
“Look up,” she told me and then proceeded to smear thick greasy stuff all over the affected area. It was cold and stunk.
“Don’t turn your nose up at this. My husband used to swear by it. Made me make it up every week for him, and he did just fine. I kept in the habit, it’s not like it’s expensive to make, and I can sell the odd jar to occasional adventurers. Better for you, in the long run, than filling up on potions. That stuff will kill you quick, if you go overboard.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
She turned my face this way and that trying to get every reddish part of my skin. Then she looked at me, gently, all I could do was look back.
“You will do, Graey, don’t wash it off tonight. Now tell me about your adventure while I finish up cooking dinner.”
“Same place as before, that new lair outside of town. It’s not been getting much attention. Gisselle put me on to it for my testing. All I’ve seen there so far have been slimes, which is good. I don’t have the skills yet for something more. I need to grade up, but I don’t know how. Today I could have died. Yesterday, I could have too…” My words just evaporated as I realised just how out of my depth I was. Eventually I would be asked to do more than fight slimes when I felt like it. I could be called against an incursion or an army, or pretty much anything.
“It’s only your second day, it will come. My husband was a mage; did you know that?”
I shook my head.
“Well he was, not a great one, but he knew enough to get by. Before that he started like you, with nothing but a sword and a dream. He worked hard every day, step by step to make sure that he survived. When he retired we travelled for a bit, but we both wanted to come home, and neither of us were getting any younger. The magic kept us from having children but we were happy.” She stirred the pot, not looking at me, and I think, not really looking at the food either.
I stood and took over the cooking while she took a moment to compose herself, she was tough, that was all it took, a moment.
“I can help you plan your development. There are ways that don’t include the adventurer’s guild. People have been using the quirks of this land for our advantage long before the guild was even a twinkle in the eye of its founder.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean. Isn’t the only way to rank up with a card? And the only place that issues the cards are the guild?”
“No and yes. The cards aren’t the truth. Or at least, all the truth. You do know that much?”
“They are representative. Its grades, and there is some wiggle room in each one.”
“Yes, and give me back the pot. Go get the bowls and cut some bread.”
I did just that, quietly though, I didn’t want to miss anything she said, by distracting her.
As she was serving and we took out seats at the table she started talking again. “I don’t have a card. But I have Alchemy and Cooking as Skills.”
“How do you know without the card?”
“There are other ways. The church can scribe you if you make a hefty donation. But Skills aren’t the only things to change. Eventually most people grade up in some areas. Even without fighting in the lairs and dungeons.”
“How does this help me though? I need to get stronger, slimes are almost beating me.”
“You can learn skills the old fashion way with practice and study. Same as you can grade up with exercise and work. It’s not that complicated. You are an adventurer, you already have the mana channels, and it’s just a matter of working with what you have. Look at Wallace and Jessie, they are both skilled in their areas, almost supernaturally so. They have Skills too. Wallace is likely an A grade in strength and Constitution. Jessie is the same in Dexterity and Intelligence. You are starting worse than many, but better than others, you have people willing to help you, willing to teach you, if you listen. Cultivate that weave of people; it will serve you better than any weapon. Now eat your soup and think about what I have said.”
I did. She was on to something, if it was true. Not that it helped me right now, I didn’t have the time to slack off in the lair, we needed the money more and more. Everywhere I looked I saw something else that would take money to fix.
“Is this a well-known thing? Because I’ve never heard it mentioned.”
“You had your heart set on being an adventurer. You didn’t even consider other paths. If I had told you before you got your card, you would never have given it the thought you are now. It’s not the only method either but it’s the safest. I will teach you some things about Alchemy, which should help your intelligence.”
“Do you know what each of the stats on my card actually mean?
“I don’t know what stats you have on your card Graey. You likely have the basics so far, strength, agility and the like?”
“Yes. Strength, Agility, Constitution, Intelligence, dexterity, and wisdom.”
“They break down into Physical and Mental, generally, some have others but they are the normal ones, I don’t know all this for a fact, but that is what Gerry, Gods rest his soul, told me. Physical ones are the simplest. Strength is actually how strong you are, how hard you hit, how much you can lift. Agility is a fancy name for speed, how fast you are, but it has crossover with dexterity, which is how good with your hands you are. Constitution is how healthy you are, how much damage you can take and how quickly you recover. The mental ones are a bit different. Intelligence is how clever you are, how many ideas you have, and the quality. It can be increased with education and experience easily enough. Wisdom is a hard one to pin down. Its connected to judgement, how quickly you choose the right choice for you.”
“Huh, that’s more than I knew before. Does ranking up actually change anything? Would increasing my strength increase my muscles?”
“Some. It depends on a lot of things; there are some monstrous adventurers out there, grades A and S, that look exactly the same as they did at grade G. Others develop physically in response, they get larger and taller. You have to watch out for the mentally developed, they are leaps and bounds beyond you, and some of them gain strange skills and magics from it.”
“So there are actual changes, sometimes, and the clever ones are dangerous. Got it. I guess we will have to plan this out, but I can’t stop hunting. We need the coin.”
“We do. But you will be better prepared. The coppers you gave me should last a few days, that’s enough to get started if we don’t slack off.”