Name: Magnolia Rae
Class: Caretaker Warlock, Pact of the Forgotten
Race: Human
Level: 2
XP to next level: 60/200
Current quests:
Critical hit to table mimic: 10 XP
You attacked a toothless mimic and broke its leg. Not what I would have done but who am I to judge?
“Yeah?” I asked as I started walking after it. “What would you have done? Waited until it had your entire leg in its mouth to decide if it was going to kill you or not?”
No one answered.
Of course, no one answered. I was talking to myself.
I followed the trail of dust to a small side room but froze as I heard a mysterious sound coming from behind me.
“I thought I told you to-” A candlestick sat there. “You’re a mimic too?”
A long, slender tongue unfurled from its mouth, reaching almost the entire length of its body.
“Couldn’t you turn into something cool like a sword or one of those giant hammer things?”
It turned its back on me for a second before turning back around. I just stared until it repeated the action. Right. I turned away because obviously a mimic can’t change shapes if you’re looking at it. Everyone knows that. About a minute later a tongue licked my cheek. A purple-bladed sword with tentacles coming out of its hilt stood next to me. I was eye-to-eye with a creature that tabletop RPGs told me I should want to kill but I felt no danger from. Why would I be in danger?
Silly me.
“Nope, no sir.” I stepped away from it. “We are not going to be going around licking people or I’ll find a real sword and remove that tongue of yours.”
Bad sword, don't lick people? What was wrong with me? I was leaving Willow alone in a strange place with a house cat to protect her and why? It had to be done?
No, it didn't.
I needed to protect Willow.
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Look after them and they'll protect you.
“Class information,” I said on a whim.
Class: Caretaker Warlock
Congratulations! You have stumbled into a momentous responsibility in your life: you have been entrusted with the care and upbringing of a magnificent and powerful creature. If you nurture and safeguard this creature, it will reward your kindness by sharing some of its impressive strength with you as it grows.
My eyes moved to my new sword friend.
“My warlock patron is a fucking dungeon, isn't it?”
It just stood there watching me with its one eye in the center of its hilt.
I loved Dungeons and Dragons as a kid and teenager. I watched people play it as an adult. I watch anime and read stories where heroes went on grand adventures delving into dungeons. No one was ever on its side. But it made sense. We walked into a dungeon, apparently, and I prayed for help. The dungeon answered. It also explained why I wasn't scared of the mimics. They weren't going to hurt me and something in me knew it. Maybe.
“Well,” I said to it. “Are you going to lead me to your friend so I can try and fix things or are you just going to follow me around?”
It moved in a small circle and almost seemed to sniff the air before picking a direction.
The room must have been some kind of storage room. Boxes and dusty crates were haphazardly stacked against the walls, some of them spilling their contents onto the floor. A musty smell hung in the air, mixing with the scent of old papers and decaying wood. Cobwebs draped across forgotten treasures and memories, connecting the manor’s past to my present. Every step kicked up clouds of dust, swirling in the muted light like specters of the past. The creaking of rusty shelving added to the eerie atmosphere.
The sword led me to a box I definitely would have been able to pick out on my own. It was shivering.
“We got off on the wrong foot,” I told the box. “Why don’t you turn back into a table and let me take a look at that leg?”
Nothing happened.
“You scared me. You’re the first friendly mimic I’ve ever met. Actually, you’re the first mimic I’ve ever met period. Are you even called mimics?”
The sword nodded. Well, it bent at its hilt a couple of times.
“Swordo says you can't change when I'm looking at you so I'm going to close my eyes but if you try to attack me he's going to attack you. Aren't you Swordo?”
Another sword nod.
I shut my eyes. After a few minutes, I heard a gentle rustling, and then everything returned to silence. “Look at you, you handsome fellow.”
He looked like any other antique end table with one major exception, the one tentacle leg. I reached out and touched it.
Skill acquired: Mending
Maybe next time don’t attack things you’re meant to protect.
Oh shut up.
Warmth spread from my touch. I felt the wooden “flesh” of the fake leg unsplintering, if that was possible. It stitched itself back together and Luci’s claw marks filled themselves in.
“All done, I think.”
XP: 80/200
What do you call a room full of mimics? A nightmare obviously but do they have a name like a murder of crows or a flock of sheep? Because a lot of things in the room suddenly had eyes. Eyes that were on me. The paper, the goblets, and the rug rolled up in the corner; all had glowing eyes.
“Right well.” I backed out of the room. "I will leave you to heal in peace."