Reflect carefully upon your memories, for when we gaze upon them at our convenience, they are oft inclined to present themselves in a manner most flattering to our own desires.
- From the Analects on Quassian Discourse.
I gingerly prodded the remains of Gersal with my weapon to make sure things were absolutely safe before I approached for closer inspection. Most of the soft parts of the corpse, the unprotected places, had been eaten, leaving behind a rotted thing best placed in the realms of horror. Time, the damp air, and scavengers had left behind a mystery as to what exactly had authored Gersal’s death.
And where were his companions? Why had they left him here to die alone in the dark? In my mind, it served more as a warning than a mystery. Still, I could not help but to allow my hands to search around for anything of value.
After removing his bevor, I looted his roughly cut ruby necklace, with a tarnished silver chain, from around what remained of his neck. Lucky me, I thought to myself as Larynda silently assisted me with this grisly task, showing no signs of horror or disgust. This led me to believe it was not her first experience looting a corpse. Together, we found some notes and assorted coins of various denominations. I also discovered a red potion which, after confirming with my magic, turned out to be a minor Health potion. I gave Larynda the money and the potion as her share of the loot, while I kept the necklace for myself. It might serve as a useful gift, or could be traded later.
Beside Gersal’s corpse lay a cracked and rusted sword, the blade pitted and the scabbard rotted. More intriguing, however, was the massive shield next to him, which, in the dim light, I had initially mistaken for a trap door. It was a spiked tower shield, constructed from tough wood and reinforced with dark metal bands. I ran my hand over its rough surface, toying with the idea of taking it, but ultimately decided against it, since I already had my own. For a fraction of a moment, I felt something stir in recognition from within, but the sensation was fleeting and soon left me.
Just as I was about to tell the girl that it was time to depart, there was the glooping sound of sludge falling somewhere in darkness beyond the sentinel light of our Zajasite. The sound repeated itself, becoming a promise of something dread. The hackles of my neck rose in response, the primal part of me knowing that danger was close at hand. I had become nigh immune to environmental concerns such as heat or cold, yet I felt a single bead of sweat make its way down the nape of my neck. This could not be fear. Must not be fear. Nonetheless, the next few words came out of my mouth.
“Move back slowly. Something comes,” I commanded somewhere between a hiss and a whisper, hoping that I was able to hide my momentary weakness. “And when I say so, run.”
It was not fear. Most definitely not. I was just being sensible.
Behind me Larynda nodded mutely, eager to leave. With her better eyesight, undoubtedly more so perhaps than even I. Slowly we edged backwards, moving away from whatever horror was amassing beyond.
“We really need to be moving a little faster… there’s a big lumpy thing and it’s getting bigger I tell you… an’ faster,” she suggested worriedly in a whisper.
But this suggestion, rather than spurring me to greater efforts of flight, instead sparked a most contrary feeling. It made me realize my pathetic current reality. The great Gilgamesh, Herald of the Goddess, waltzing about in the sewers on a quest to kill mere rats. It made me irate and rebellious. I had stood before creatures of legend and prevailed, who was I to be afraid of what lay in the dark?
“Whatcha doing?” the little girl behind me hissed as I stopped, standing my ground.
“I would first see what stands before me before turning tail,” I stated with all the bravery of a youth who has been slighted.
“Dun’t know why you can’t see that oozy thing already, probably old like… nah, that’s not the point! We got to get out of here! Please!”
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Ignoring her, I cast Identify into the direction ahead of me, willing the magic to find what had caused me to feel anxious, and not give me some useless information on the state of a random stone tile. The voices in turn soothed me, promising me victory with their sibilant whispers. I drew a slight breath, grinning to myself as it gave me the information that I sought.
Quiverings - [Slime lvl.18]
Health: 351/351
Stamina: 41/41
Mana: 2/2
An eager smile played about my lips as I drew my crossbow, placing a fresh iron bolt upon it. It would be interesting to see how this glorified slime, this Quiverings, reacted to fire damage.
I swiftly cocked my weapon and fired an Inferno Bolt at the location of the Quiverings. A flare of light shrieked through the darkness, illuminating an alien yet horrifyingly familiar creature for a fleeting moment. At first, I doubted my eyes, thinking they deceived me. Before us was a wall of living ooze, a quivering, tentacled blob inching towards us. The impact of my bolt on its gelatinous body gouged out a sizable chunk of its Health, hissing as it burrowed its way into its mass.
The monster emitted a primal screech that resonated with its fury. An extraordinary feat, considering it had no mouth. The Quiverings began to vibrate, its amorphous, slimy body rippling. Bright circles of runes emerged, slowly intertwining to form a spell construct that hinted at flow and communion.
“Stay behind me!” I cried out to the half-elven girl as I fired another fiery bolt, determined to interrupt its arcane incantation.
The quarrel of burning iron smacked against the creature, releasing its potential energy, but I had been too slow.
Despite the additional damage inflicted by my fiery bolt, the odd creature completed its spell. Twin lances of dark, watery sludge formed, spinning rapidly before hurtling towards me with alarming speed.
Behind me, I felt Larynda’s presence. The girl, despite having urged me to flee earlier, had obeyed my command and was still firmly stuck by my side. Were I alone, I could easily dodge the magical sludge coming for me, but I had to protect my ward. I had to stand my ground. That was my conclusion as I knelt and summoned my Mimic shield, even as twin balls of dark water mysteriously flew past me on a course to intercept the dark sludge.
In mere moments, threaded vines of organic matter flowed disturbingly from my arm, digging into the stone floor. A wall formed of thick wood, banded iron, and steel spikes that blocked my vision. A mimicry of Gersal’s oversized board, a tower shield.
The Mimic truly lived up to its name.
I was grinning inanely at this discovery even as the spell smashed against the new form of my shield, a great jarring impact that rattled my bones. I had expected to have been knocked off my feet or pushed back, as the laws of physics dictated before, but instead, I had merely been forced down to one knee. My shield was still firmly rooted to the ground, a strong bulwark against attack, but it blocked my vision.
I needed to see what was happening. Now.
Waves of confusion crashed against my consciousness as I felt something opening. For the first time, a new eye opened and the Mimic saw the world around it, and through it, so did I. Painted in blurred shades of gray, it was a stark picture of the world, no better than my own. No worse, really, even than my own sight, I realized. Almost immediately after, new notifications from the game momentarily clouded this new vision.
Your Entropic Mimic has learned Adaptive Defense (lvl.3)
Your Entropic Mimic has learned Shield Form (lvl.3)
Your Entropic Mimic has learned Absorb (lvl.1)
Your Entropic Mimic has learned Perception (lvl.1)
I saw then that the Quiverings was writhing, its advance slowed as my bolts were still eating into and causing damage.