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Dungeon Diaries: Confessions of a Mimic
1 - The Journey of a Thousand Meals

1 - The Journey of a Thousand Meals

Sir Alduous the Brave trekked down the winding stone stairs of the dungeon, torch held before him as he went. The flickering flame sent shadows dancing across the ancient walls as the stairwell let out into a large chamber.

Long abandoned banquet tables spread out across the space with skeletonized dwarves still propped up in ornate chairs before their last supper. Plates and platters once heaped with delicacies had long turned to dust and cobwebs. A black snake slid through the gaping eye socket of a long dead dwarven lord and disappeared into his ribcage beneath a golden robe.

Sir Alduous noted the iron sconces around the banquet hall and placed his torch in one, then lit another torch and did the same on the other side of the room, creating an aura of light. With his hands free he reached into his satchel and equipped his Dowsing Rod of Magic Detection.

Holding the rod aloft like an orchestra conductor, the hero probed the dark corners of the hall, searching for a signal. As he approached the western edge of the room, the tip of his rod began to glow a faint blue. Sir Alduous’s pace quickened.

There was an open stone archway leading into an adjacent room. The closer the hero walked, the brighter the glow became. Silhouetted by torchlight, the brave adventurer’s elongated shadow fell across an ornate treasure chest. The glow of the dosing rod was nearly blinding. Sir Alduous licked his lips in anticipation and eagerly reached for the chest.

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That’s when he met me. And that’s when I ate him.

I belched loudly and licked my lips.

The only thing left was a silver locket lying on the dungeon floor. It was open, and I could see a painted portrait of a gentlelady and a small child. Sir Alduous’s family.

I ate the locket too.

*

Hello. I am a mimic. My pronouns are It / Its.

I bet you have a lot of questions! So did I.

My earliest memory is coming to in a gloomy cave. It was dark, dank, slimy–I loved it.

Even then I knew, intrinsically, that I was a mimic. I didn’t know how I got there. I didn’t know whether I was born, bred, or created. I didn’t know my name, or if I even had a name. I didn’t know if other mimics were as devastatingly sexy as I was.

But I knew I was a mimic.

How did I know?

When I concentrated, sitting there in the darkness, a crystalline knowledge seemed to coalesce within my consciousness.

[common mimic, unremarkable]

[creature]

[Level 1]

So there you have it. I was self-aware. Awakened. And as somebody somewhere once said, ‘I think therefore I am… hungry.’

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