Dug woke up slowly as was his habit. He woke to darkness but that wasn’t much of a concern. He was largely nocturnal after all. His diminutive form was dwarfed by the large bed he found himself in and he liked it that way. He had bought the bed off of a giant and it was like sleeping on a firm soft cloud. Some kind of enchantment. He could forget his old aches and pains while he was in his bed but sooner or later he had to wake up.
He sat up slowly, wincing as his old bones creaked inside his body. “Bah, dese old bones. Sick of dem I beez.” He slowly scooted over to the edge of his bed and put his feet down on a set of wooden steps leading up to it. As he did so he motioned and a gnarled old staff zipped over to alight in his right hand. Using the staff he carefully walked down the dozen or so steps to reach the floor of his abode.
Once firmly down on the ground, he patted his staff lovingly. It was a beautiful thing, especially when contrasted against his old hunched form. The wood twisted at the top into three spirals that contained a green gem, blazing with inner light. This central gem was accompanied by a latticework of smaller gems that traveled down each spiral as if the first had bled green.
It was his Obulwaag, the symbol of his status as a Shamaan. Turning to face the inner chambers of his abode he spoke out loud to his staff. “Come come Obu. Let usns see what da day holds hmm?”
Painstakingly slowly he moved deeper into his home needing no light other than his staff to see in the dark. His overly large ears picked up the sound of water coming from his garden and he made his way to it. As it came into view he sighed happily. Here was his greatest work. Every form of fungi in its proper place, from the common variety all the way to the demi-divine. He moved slower now, savoring his walk as he moved between the different paths.
Towards the back, he stopped before the carcass of some great beast. Within its chest cavity grew three clumps of vibrant orange mushrooms. Gently and almost reverently, Dug reached out and picked one clump. The mushrooms hissed and sizzled at his touch, but he calmly carried it to a small desk off to one side.
On the desk lay a book, simple in appearance but stained and worn from much use. Carefully Dug opened it with one hand while keeping the bundle of shrooms in the other, leaning his staff against the desk. Inside was a riot of intricate drawings and lines of script set out like works of art. The script was as harsh as it was beautiful with violent jagged strokes that evoked a sense of earth and nature taking its course.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Dug noticed the beauty but it was secondary to the images arrayed with exacting detail. Every page held an image of a mushroom or fungi of some kind accompanied by descriptions in the jagged script of his people.
Opening to a new page he carefully reached out and pricked his finger on a nearby needle set aside for that purpose. He then placed his bleeding hand on the page and with a flurry of movement, ate the bundle of mushrooms and swept up his staff in the same motion. The mushrooms scorched their way down his throat but Dug was not a minor Shamaan of some backwater bog. No, he was Dug Shardaal, Sporemeister of the Git Bog and no mushroom would be his end.
His eyes sparked as he activated his magic, his Waag, rolling up into his head as green flames took their place. The blood pooling on the page began to move, lines tracing their way across the page, forming a picture, then color, then script, whirling and shifting before flaring with a green flame that flashed before settling.
Dug opened his eyes and gazed upon the new entry with satisfaction. He leaned over the book and brought his staff close so his old eyes could see better. “Hmm, this’un beez a good one Obu! Strong, strong, took to the beastie corpse good and well methinks.” He looked at it once more before smacking his lips in satisfaction. “Tasty too!”
He cackled happily before making his way back through his garden. He was still walking through it when he felt his abode shake violently, a boom echoing down from the entrance. He frowned before making his way there. “Bah, some beastie no doubt. Why make trouble for Dug?”
Dug’s Mushroom -
Name: Daagomorti
Affinities: Fire, Necrotic (Earth/Darkness)
Rarity: Demi-Divine
Description (Normal): Daagomorti, translated as Dragon’s Death, is a fungus grown from the corpse of a dragon. It must be grown from the heart tissue and naturally takes on whatever element the dragon ruled over in life. Due to its nature however, the mushroom also has a strong complex Necrotic affinity that, when combined with the dragon’s natural affinity, spells death to another of the same species. It is rarely seen in the wild for obvious reasons.
Description (Dug Speak): Dis be Daagomorti. Dis a fungee dat be grown in a Daago’s corpse from dey’s thump thump, which lets da shroom absorb da Daago’s power. Because it be shroom, it also gain powers of morti too. Both together means Daago of same power die quick fast. Not very natural cause I make it grow good and proppah. Hard to do dat inna wild.