Epscot Roosgerald's Big Book of Monsters 56-57

SLIMES

(Also known as blobbies)

Rarity: Common

Threat Level (S.A.M.): 1

Epscot’s Overview:

What is there to say about slimes? On the surface, they seem like simple creatures. The prevailing wisdom of the matter is this: they eat, they grow, and if they’re lucky they eat some more. Not terribly interesting, if I say so myself.

However, this view of slimes is shortsighted and foolish. In my decades as a [Monsterologist], I have seen enough of these wonderful creatures to know that there’s more to these transformers than first meets the eye.

I myself saw a slime for the first time when I was nine years old. My friends and I were pretending to be members of Embermane’s Legions – Lest you judge me harshly, dear readers, let me remind you that this was decades before the Bloodfire March, before the continent discovered what a monster Embermane truly was – and a small blue slime approached the clearing where we dueled with sticks and pebbles.

We were young and foolish, cruel in the way that only small children can be, and we immediately changed our game. I led the charge, pretending that the slime was a fierce dragon that my friends and I needed to kill. Our blows were enthusiastic, but completely ineffective. You see, slimes are incredibly resilient against physical attacks. Impact damage does virtually nothing to them unless you manage to destroy their core, and the wounds created by pierce damage are rapidly healed thanks to the slime’s innate regenerative properties. Magic is effective, but we lacked any semblance of it at that age (and thanks to a lifetime of research, I still can’t cast a single spell skill.)

Though we failed to kill the poor, curious slime that day, we chased it away and thought ourselves mighty warriors. Ah, to be young once more!

As I grew older and dedicated myself to my work, other monsters caught my eye. I didn’t pay much attention to slimes for the majority of my career. I spent years studying kelpies, living statues, pig-shamblers, elementals of all kinds, various offspring of draconic heritage, bladed bugs, griffons, crabships, and too many others to list here. However, as I entered the twilight of my professional endeavors, I found myself curious about the mysteries of the slimes that are still unsolved.

- What are the specific triggers for growth? Some slimes eat thousands of tons of food without growing at all, while others will quintuple in size after eating a single tree’s worth of apples.

- How do slimes decide between different transformation options? Is it tied to what they eat, or is there a deeper set of rules than we can understand?

- What is the origin of their remarkable capacity to heal themselves? Could it be distilled and turned into a potent curative that would alleviate the burdens placed upon our [Healers]?

I’ll admit, this last point is the one I was most interested in as I began my research in earnest, as it has the greatest potential for human benefit.

Burning with an urge to learn that I hadn’t felt in years, I traversed the continent, trying to see as many types of slimes as I could. You see, due to their ability to consume and digest almost anything, there are an almost infinite number of variants, and I would need more lifetimes than the one I’ve been given to catalogue even a respectable amount of them.

However, in my travels, I’ve learned these things, and my sincere hope is that future generations of [Monsterologists] will follow in my humble footsteps and broaden our understanding of these magnificent creatures. I apologize in advance if some of this information is vague or generic. I also apologize for the fact that my studies are primarily focused on slimes in the wild. Those in captivity exhibit different behaviors than their counterparts, and some of the things I mention in the following pages are likely not accurate for cultivated slimes.

But enough apologizing, there are only so many pages available to me within this volume, and I have other monsters to catalogue as well.

Origin and social structure:

I do not know the origin of the first slimes, and I suspect that until someone develops a class or skill that can sail across the vast sea of time with ease, no one else will discover it. Thankfully, it is not important for us to know. Leave such matters to the [Priests], [Theologians], and [Philosophers] of the world. Suffice to say, they’ve likely been around as long as we have, if not longer.

Wild slimes do not form societies like some monsters do, but they tend to congregate in groups that we [Monsterologists] collectively refer to as “oozes”. Don’t blame me for such an unimaginative name, dear readers. I was not consulted on the matter. Captive slimes tend to be lumped together in “herds”, which is a term I’m not fond of.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Oozes tend to gather in places with large quantities and varieties of food. Though slimes will eat anything, they have a preference for organic material. Plants, insects, things of that nature. As a result, they tend to gather around mountains, forests, riverbanks…you get the picture. So long as there are lots of tiny living creatures for them to devour alongside a healthy amount of vegetation, they’ll be content and will thrive.

However, there are some oozes, such as the large one living in the depths of Dulo’s Peak, that don’t conform to this idea by living in a cramped cavern with nothing to eat but precious metals. It is my personal belief that there are other reasons for that, and I will not discuss that ooze further here.*

Slimes are generally peaceful, though I’d agree with those who say that there’s functionally no difference between something trying to eat you maliciously or simply because you’re nearby. For what it’s worth, I was only chased away from a handful of oozes during my research. If you see an ooze out in the wild, don’t be afraid to get a bit closer and take a good look at the slimes for yourself!**

There are two ways that slimes increase their numbers. The first of these is by splitting themselves into multiple parts. Technically, a slime can do this by choice, but it’s much more commonly a response to being attacked and suffering irreparable core damage. Much like starfish, a single piece of a slime’s core can regenerate itself, forming an entirely new slime. Sadly, this miraculous trait is taken advantage of by unscrupulous farmers and corporate interests, who shatter the cores of their slimes in an attempt to rapidly increase the size of their herds.

Though I find the practice offensive and distasteful, I cannot argue with its efficacy, as privately-owned slime herds have increased substantially in size since the practice was taken up in earnest.

However, I maintain that it’s far more ethical to allow an ooze to grow naturally as the result of a Royal Slime’s efforts.

Royal Slimes are six to eight feet tall on average once fully grown, and they’re easily identified by a large protrusion on their back that looks like a crown. These crowns vary in appearance, but I don’t believe there are any differences in effect.

Older specimens will grow a “cape” as well. This cape is a membrane that trails behind them and helps collect every scrap of food they leave behind as they move. Royal Slimes are active, but not particularly nimble. They’re clumsy eaters and since they tend to travel around an ooze more than other slimes do, it’s likely that they’d starve themselves without their cape.

Royal Slimes reproduce asexually, and their offspring are called “simple slimes”, “basic slimes”, or “plain slimes”, depending on which part of the continent you’re in. My own preference is ‘plain slimes’, so that’s the term I’ll be using.

I won’t pretend to fully understand the underlying rules that govern which slimes transform into Royal Slimes; they seem to change depending on the ooze location. In some places, the specimens that eat the fastest transform first, while the opposite is true elsewhere. [Slime Ranchers] I’ve spoken with say that it’s random, and I’m not sure that I have enough information to reliably disagree. However, my gut instinct says that few things in this world are truly random, and there must be some sort of catalyst we don’t fully understand.

Many [Slime Ranchers] report having upwards of a dozen or more Royal Slimes within their herds. In contrast, during all of my travels, I never saw more than three Royal Slimes in a single ooze. Should one be killed (by a natural predator or disaster, dear readers!), another plain slime rapidly transformed to take its place. However, no matter how large the ooze grew or how many slimes it contained, there were never more than three. I believe that this discrepancy is the key to understanding what causes this all-important transformation.

Unlike plain slimes, whose coloration is largely defined by what they generally eat, Royal Slimes tend to be a shade of blue, red, or purple. The darker their coloration, the older the Royal Slime. The oldest slime I’ve personally seen was almost black. It looked like it was made out of tar!

Variations:

In addition to Royal Slimes, there are three major categories that most slimes I’ve seen fall into.

Armored Slimes: By consuming masses of durable objects (rock, wood, metal), these slimes tend to be bigger than the rest of their respective oozes, and their outer bodies are covered by the material in question. Armored slimes tend to be more aggressive than their counterparts, and seem to serve a protective role within an ooze.

Refining Slimes: These slimes look like snakes, and they consume a single food source (usually a plant) to the exclusion of all else. Over time, they break this food source down into a liquid that they leave in pools for reasons we don’t know. Throughout history, these reserves were known as “Sobs” among [Monsterologists]. Certain types of refining slimes (such as those who consume gold or silver), might be partially responsible for the “replenishing mines” phenomenon.

Elemental Slimes: One of the most fascinating types of slimes and extremely common. If fed enough of an elemental, a slime will transform and become an elemental themselves. In nature, these creatures function almost like enchanted storage crystals, albeit poor ones. Had it not been for a lava slime that I came across in the Mountains of Vash, I might have perished from the cold.

Please note, this is far from an exhaustive list. There are plenty of variants, such as the acidic slimes one can find in the bayous of Lons, that don’t fit into these categories neatly.

Epscot’s Closing Thoughts:

Dear readers, [Monsterologists] of tomorrow, I implore you to continue learning about these creatures! Seek them out and study them in their natural habitats! Go outside, get dirty, and push the boundaries of our knowledge ever further!

There are so many things we don’t know about slimes. I know it can be daunting to set out on a research adventure without knowing what you’re looking for, so here’s a list of some things I’d like to know. Maybe they'll help spark your own curiosity.

- Do slimes form emotional attachments with each other?

- Can slimes form bonds with people?

- Can a slime develop magic or skills on its own?

- Are there hidden dynamics to their society than we can't easily see?

Remember, those who seek to understand the world enjoy it best! Should you find an answer to one of my questions, please let me know!

- E.R.

*If you’re interested in a more thorough analysis of that ooze, dear readers, I suggest you find a copy of my colleague Dernest Lemingsay’s book, Silver Caverns, also published by Wingheart Books. It’s a wonderfully comprehensive guide!

**The publisher does not recommend or condone this action and is not responsible for any injuries or mishaps that occur as a result of taking Mr. Roosgerald’s advice.