Robert’s eyes widened as he watched the mud-covered creature ‘stand.’

Maybe ‘stand’ wasn’t apt, as the creature didn’t seem to stand on its own power. Instead, the dozen or so muddy tendrils extending from its back lifted the creature into the air. The rest of the creature hung limply, its head askew and its eyes glazed over, a slimy stream of mud dripping from its gaping maw.

Everything in Robert’s other scenes told him that the creature was dead, yet…

Is it some kind of undead?! Robert thought to himself?

No… that couldn’t be it. The undead were rare to begin with, and those that did appear always produced a sickening miasma. As if the Spirit Energy itself were… rotting.

This thing — whatever it was — produced no miasma at all. In fact, the only Spirit Energy Robert could sense was the remnants of the creature’s own as they slowly faded into the aether.

What manner of creature was this, then?

However, his questions would have to wait for a later time, as the next moment, the creature silently charged Bert. It was a wild, flailing charge that reminded Robert of some kind of deformed spider as it moved.

Bert dodged out of the way of the wild charge and swung his massive fist at the creature. To everyone present’s surprise, the strange being suddenly shifted its momentum, throwing itself upward as Bert’s fist soared harmlessly underneath it.

Several tendrils shot upward and embedded into the rocky ceiling, while several others lashed out like spears to impale the large man. Bert dodged backward, striking out at every tendril that approached, splattering them in all directions. Yet, for each tendril destroyed, two more seemed to take its place.

Bert’s strikes came faster and faster until his fists became a blur and the air within the cavern a whirlwind.

Yet, even with this, Robert could tell that Bert was struggling. Every time Bert tried to strike the creature’s limp body, it suddenly jerked out of the way with odd, violent movements. Robert was certain he had even heard several of the creature’s bones snap from the unnatural angles it would move in.

The fight was becoming a battle of attrition, with the tendrils unable to pierce Bert’s expert defense, but Bert likewise unable to land a solid blow.

If something didn’t change, who knew which of them would wear down first.

Said change came in the form of a screaming hobgoblin.

“RAAAAAOOOORR!” The woman they’d come to save let out a bellowing roar and jumped into the air, her axe raised, just as the creature dodged one of Bert’s strikes.

Whatever mechanism the creature used to dodge didn’t seem able to keep up with both strikes at once, and as she flew past it, her axe took one of its legs with it.

Not that the creature reacted or even seemed to notice, really.

Instead, a thick, muddy sludge poured out of the stump and sealed the wound. Watching the scene, things finally clicked for Robert.

“Garrelt!” Robert turned to the other man and yelled.

“I saw!” came the response. Garrelt instantly knelt down and began to carve something into the hard stone floor underneath him.

It all finally made sense. The ape creature appeared dead because it was dead. What wasn’t, was the strange muddy slime-like creature apparently puppeting its body. Robert had heard — mostly horror — stories of such creatures roaming the deeper, more dangerous part of the Deep and the Crimson Mountains, but never had he encountered one himself.

They were astoundingly rare — if they even existed in the first place. To have encountered not just one, but two, in the brief span of a few moments. What were the chances? More importantly, what did that say about the place they were headed?

While Garrelt worked, Robert jumped into the fray alongside the hobgoblin and Bert. His shining blade cut tendrils into pieces and even carved a few gashes into the dead ape’s side. Yet, despite being caught off guard by the hobgoblin’s first strike, the slime proved adaptable.

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Even with all three coordinating attacks, they barely made any headway against the creature. And unlike Bert, the hobgoblin and Robert didn’t have an endless supply of stamina.

Thankfully, they didn’t need it.

A few moments after Robert joined the fight, Garrelt stood.

“It’s ready! BERT!” he called out.

Robert shared a look with Bert, and they nodded to each other.

Bert roared and charged at the hanging creature.

As he did so, Robert took a forward stance, his sword held out before him.

He took a deep breath, raised it above his head in a two-handed grip, and slowly breathed out.

With an oddly slow strike, Robert then swung the blade down through empty air.

[Ten Thousand Blades!]

A gentle ripple flowed through the air. The next instant, all the muddy tendrils fell to the ground, cut into thousands of pieces. Thin lines also formed on the dead creature’s body, but its thick fur protected it from most of the attack. Even with a living soul to augment it with Spirit energy, a Deep creature’s fur was still more durable than most mundane substances.

With all of its tendrils destroyed, the dead creature’s body limply fell from the ceiling. Before it could fall more than a few feet, however, Bert lept through the air and caught it in his arms.

The creature’s reaction was instant, as hundreds of thin spikes erupted, pushing their way through the various cuts and wounds dotting its body.

Bert’s eyes widened, but a quick application of Spirit Energy prevented any spikes from piercing his skin.

Before he’d even landed, Bert heaved and with pinpoint accuracy, threw the creature’s body toward the array circle Garrelt had finished carving into the stone floor.

As soon as the creature’s body rolled to a stop in the middle of the circle, the array activated with a flash of Spirit Energy.

As it did, a wavering pillar of superheated air formed inside, shooting upward until it struck the ceiling.

Inside the array circle, the spikey tendrils writhed, appearing like hundreds of tiny worms wiggling on top of a corpse.

With each passing moment, more and more tendrils dried out, hardening into earthen clay that crumbled away. Even the ape creature’s body began to feel the effects of the superheated air, as its fur shriveled while its exposed skin blackened and cracked.

When at last no more tendrils moved, the three adventurers let out a sigh of relief. With a thought, Garrelt released the array, and the signs blinked out, leaving nothing but the charred corpse.

Robert, Garrelt, and Bert looked at each other and smiled. They were tired, dirty, and confused, but also proud of the battle. They had fought a totally unknown enemy and emerged as the victors with barely a scratch. Such a thing was rare for Adventurers, as it was almost always the unknown that finally did them in.

Their smiles quickly dropped, however, as they noticed something strange.

Spread out all across the cavern were tiny globs of mud from where tendrils had been destroyed or the creature injured. The three men hadn’t paid much attention to the dirt, as their focus had been on the much larger treat.

Now, however, they could see that these tiny patches of mud were… quivering.

“Well… hell,” Garrelt whispered.

As if triggered by his words, these thousands of tiny pieces of mud moved as one. With surprising speed, the mud converged on the charred corpse, slowly building into a bubbling mass.

The three Adventurers slowly backed away, taking defensive positions.

“Nine Hells, this is ridiculous!” Bert yelled.

“It’s using the body as a shell to protect itself from the heat! Some part of its central mass must have survived!” Garrelt responded.

“How are we supposed to kill this thing?!” Robert asked.

However, before any of them could respond, the fourth person in the room rushed forward.

The hobgoblin reached the charred, bubbling corpse just as it began to push itself up. She then raised her leg and kicked out at such speeds that her leg blurred, and a cone of wind formed in front of it.

When her foot made contact with the corpse, it shot across the cavern at high speed before slamming into the far wall on the other side of the still pond, taking up half the cavern.

The corpse practically splattered across the wall with a sickening crunch. What remained hung there for a moment before finally peeling off and falling into the still waters. The pond erupted into a chaotic frenzy as the creatures below the water’s surface rushed to claim their piece of the cooked roast so kindly delivered to their front step.

Soon after, the waters stilled and once more returned to their mirror-like sheen.

All four stared into the pond with bated breath. But when nothing emerged after several moments, they all sighed and relaxed. The Adventurers turned and grinned again, patting each other on the back.

The hobgoblin continued to stare at the pond, breathing heavily. Just as Robert turned to call out to her, she threw her arms up into the air and yelled,

“YES! I GOT UM! VICTORY FOR BOARSLAYER!” then slowly toppled backward, her arms still raised. She fell to the ground with a thump, and Robert could tell the woman had passed out.

The three adventurers slowly walked over and looked down at her in silence.

Not looking away from the woman, Garrelt spoke.

“Hey… Bert… that last kick she used…”

Bert, too, didn’t look away from the unconscious woman,

“Ya… I saw the way her Spirit Energy moved. The lass actually copied my [Galefist] after only seeing it once.” Bert grinned from ear to ear as he responded.

He reached down, picked the hobgoblin up, and threw her over his shoulder.

“Come, gentlemen. Let us report our success to Mr. Antchaser and see about getting Ms… Boarslayer? some care.” Robert turned away and started walking down the tunnel they had entered.

—————————————————————

When the Adventurers had disappeared around the bend, the pond stirred slightly, and a fist-sized glob of mud pushed itself out of the water. It clung to the side of the cavern wall and quivered slightly.

//Attention: Overseer Signal Detected. Reestablishing Connection… Connection Successful… Resetting Home Location. Returning Home…//

The glob of mud then quivered once more and began moving deeper into the caverns.