I feel like I've been forgetful my entire life. Or was it that I forgot my entire life? I guess it doesn't matter, there's something freeing in being what I am. It's a fantastic possibility that I can be whoever I think I am or was. Sometimes I can remember things I don't even remember forgetting and vice versa.

Who are you?

-The [Amnesiac]

Monsters were uncannily difficult to deal with. They were a different breed from those that Jayke was used to. For him, horrors, abominations, and nightmares were the norm, the things that would have his throat and make sure he knew the entire time he was nothing but a meal. That was his norm.

Jayke would watch them endlessly through security cameras. If he wasn't doing something else, chasing a whim, maintenance or practice, then he was there in a chair. Watching.

He'd spent a year watching them roam across what he'd once called safe. A year that felt closer to a decade, in part that was from the solidarity, though the bigger part of it was his perception. He'd spent a lot of time in anticipation that something would happen, spent a lot of time practicing in those time-warping machines. Maybe he hoped he would be saved, maybe he expected to die.

To this day, Jayke wasn't certain what, if anything, he foresaw. He was a coward. He always had been. Ever since the apocalypse, he'd been running from everything. Even when he was safely nestled in the middle of the most defensible compound, one of the securest places he could've been holed up in, he ran.

Ran away from reality, disappearing whenever he could. Years and years he had disappeared for, into those machines, the false sense of security settled his addled mind. The physical exertion calmed his nerves. Happy chemicals to replace the sad ones, the gut-wrenching void. Even in the end, the very end, he had run.

He'd like to think it mattered, all that time spent there.

Monsters. Jayke had a hard time dealing with them despite all that useless training. They didn't merit defense turrets as some did, not that he had access to that. They weren't human opponents Jayke could manage, they were the only ones he had ever faced with his fists. It was an entirely different fight, one that Jayke was coming to decidedly not like. He'd been learning that you didn't go about punching monsters, it was probably the worst approach.

Its glinting eyes were Jayke's only warning before the stalking thing jumped from the tangled roots. Turning his head sharply, he caught it against a glimmering shield and muscled it to the wall. Unsheathing his sword, three bloody stabs to its torso and he let the creature die.

Oz was looking at him. "You don't even flinch." He was staring at the blood running down Jayke's arms.

He followed his gaze. He'd long been desensitized to blood. Pain as well, to some degree. "They're a lot different than the opponents I'm used to. My reflexes, at least, are still relevant." Jayke toed the corpse of the nimble creature, flipping it over. It flopped onto its back to reveal cutting teeth and dark stripes. "I can see why Sterext thought this might be challenging for us." He glanced up, squinting at random. Maybe the proctor could see him.

Oz leaned against the roots. They permeated the place, piercing through rock like sewing needles. Six corpses lay around them, ripped from the very roots against which Oz leaned. "Between the close-quarters and roots, we have our work cut out for us." He sighed. "Sorry, chasing those things into the roots with my slimes will do more harm than good. Most every slime had to be acidic to consume its food, if they stay in there too long they'll do more damage than they prevent."

Jayke waved his concern away. "It's fine." He frowned after, however. "If I can't react to them then my shields are pointless. And your slimes can't clear out the nests without dissolving the roots." He restated, sighing lightly. "That's probably the point though."

It had been nearly half a day since Sterext had shown them an entrance to the root system. The creatures, the dark striped lurking things, liked to nest within the deepest tangles of these roots. They ate away at the thickest supporting ones, carving it into their home. They'd only found that out after wandering too close to the roots.

The vicious creatures had an unpleasant tendency to jump out from the darkest tangles. 

The soft light from Oz's slime was little help. Jayke had been having trouble reacting with his shields in time. And since he was the only one with protection, Oz trailed behind him. The conundrum had become apparent after the first few encounters. Often times the creatures were numerous, ambushing them on their own terms. Because of that, they'd inevitably take small wounds. It wasn't a sustainable way to go about getting rid of them.

Eventually, the roots subsided and they were standing in an empty room carved from the very stone of the cave system. Perhaps once, it would've been a place of movement. Now it stood still while creeping greenery overtook it. There were definite hints at artificial carvings, the work of people long lost.

Jayke stopped, sitting on some of the ruined rock. He heard hissing chatter further down where the roots began anew.

"How's it coming?" He directed to Oz.

The blueish man was rather focused on his hands, or rather what he beheld between them. "The rapid genesis of a new slime is not a small matter." He said softly. "A slime mild enough to move through plant matter harmlessly, yet strong enough to triumph over those that lurk there. One normally equates acidity to success when slimes are considered. It will not be a short endeavor." Jayke had the peculiar hunch that blue man was employing many Skills despite his outward appearance. "And you?" He redirected.

"No luck." The consequence of exposure. Try as he might, he could envelop his hands. "Can't seem to get it right." Jayke stared at his arms, blood ran down them. 

Not all of it was his own, but certainly, some of it was. He had suffered worse injuries, these were superficial. All red and no harm. He wasn't focused on that, however. His hands were coated in grey-blue. Not the hard light he'd normally pump into a shield, but constant thin protection.

He frowned, feeling for the magic. The shield spread only up to his wrist. He'd been focusing on conforming it to his body. Maintaining a shield at this strength would only be optimal if only he could apply it fully. It was left unsaid whether it was self-sustainable. He couldn't know that yet.

He traced the flow of magic. The hardened will to protect. He'd instinctively been using his hands. Watching most of his peers, he found they did the same. But to protect yourself, one didn't necessarily use their hands, did they? Was the same applicable to magic?

He recalled shielding his foot in hard light. He'd done it unconsciously then, killing those Sand Rabbits, but there was something more to the technique if only he could grasp it. Beads of sweat, ripe from the exertion of constant awareness and battle, broke through his brow. Closed eyes repelled them, ignoring them.

He restricted the use of his hands and focused his entirety on his protective magic. There were fundamental similarities between this and code magic. He concentrated on those similarities, the willing of the magic should simply be will. But in part, for Jayke, it was also instinct and need, a natural intuition. He breathed, chest gently rising and lowering.

A sphere was the easiest form. A convex globe emanating from his hand. Then he followed the feeling to his wrist, up to his arm, his shoulders, and so on. 

Jayke opened his eyes. He looked at his hand, the only part of his body enveloped in the armor. "Just the hand still." He said to himself. He made a fist, resting it on his leg gently.

Oz was hunched over his slime. Oher plain grey slimes quivered at the perimeter of their stone cavity. He'd kept them purposefully from the roots, they were purely reactionary. The small slimes fared worse than Jayke did when ambushes happened. Oz was mumbling under his breath. Jayke realized it was a soft chanting, word overlapping in a way Jayke couldn't begin to fathom.

He breathed and turned inward. Sensing for something other than magic. Inputs and outputs. Functions. Processes that he knew of the human body. The threads of life. The organs that worked to create the organism. Muscles, bones. The nervous system. Movement. He knew them all in the abstract. He knew their totality, their generality. Was that enough to grasp the essence of himself? His mind strained lightly at the thought.

An indistinct awareness bloomed. A keen sense of self once he filled in the blanks that his [Lesser Data Sense] fed him. The sense of himself was incomplete, but he was himself. He had his own self-awareness to contribute beyond that. That detail only whetted that awareness further - that the subject of his study was none other than himself.

He calmly regarded himself as he created a thin shield around his hand. His eyes remained closed, seeing more of himself than he had ever before. An awareness rivaled only by his time in those machines he'd practiced with, a discerning understanding of his movements. He pushed those thoughts away and perceived the unmistakable movement of his actions, his magic. The alteration in data. He twitched magical muscles, finding the pertinent triggers, falling into the correct mindset.

Then, all at once, his arms formed thin magical armor. Strained minutes more, his torso followed. Then his feet, and lower half. His neck and head soon after.

The components of a full set of magical armor.

He released the magic with a lightheaded gasp before he could even behold himself. He'd just trained himself in the steps. With considerable effort, he knew he could feel his way back and reproduce the steps. The foundation was set. He knew it was within him to create the full set with the singular components. In time, it might even become natural. His head hurt.

He slumped on the rock, sliding down its sloped surface to rest his back upon it.

With nothing else to do, he watched Oz in quiet. They'd been going nonstop for nearly half a day. He hadn't known he had the stamina for it truthfully, but sometimes he could surprise even himself. Oz was nearly the same as Jayke in that regard, they'd only recently begun to flag. Oz only more so since his magical slime project consumed his attention. This was the longest break they'd had so far.

Jayke was determined to enjoy it. It had been two days and his body felt like it had gone through hell. Bruises on his arms and ribs inflamed further by the damage he'd accrue through these tests. His arms felt heavy with dull pain. His ribs were spared that, but if they recovered at all it wouldn't be in a day. Through that dullness, the blooming fire of his cuts and lacerations, though he knew they would eventually dull too.

He wanted to save the healberries. 

He resolved to look out for Healer's Stalk, Greenleaf, and Moon Lily. He hadn't recalled Terk saying anything about them helping his bruises, but he knew they'd help his superficial wounds. Apparently, they were supposed to be rather common herbs, in the sense they were usually native to a lot of environments.

Body and mind throbbed and Jayke just sat there. Waiting for Oz to say it was time to start moving again. 

----------------------------------------

His eyes shot open like he was caught sleeping outside the compound. He looked around frantically, propping himself up with his arm. He felt a weight. He looked down.

A viridescent slime, no larger than his hand. It jiggled on his arm. It was on his left bicep. He stared at it. Presumably, it stared at him. He tilted his head. The slime moved gently up his arm.

His body and mind weren't throbbing anymore. He wondered why then it registered that his arms weren't telling him he was in pain anymore. He looked down in surprise, bringing his arms up. His right arm was completely void of cuts and blood, hair too. His left was halfway to the same state.

He stared through the slime, seeing the large bite mark, the worst one he weathered. It was smaller than he remembered, only a cool sensation emanated from it. And through the slime, the bite wasn't bleeding.

Oz sounded like a tired smile. "You looked like a corpse."

He drew Jayke's surprised gaze. "What kind of slime is this?" The lively slime moved slightly up his arm.

Oz hesitated only a moment. "It's a [Healing Slime]. One of my proudest creations and most powerful Skills. They sustain themselves on injuries. It was pretty hungry when it saw you."

There was a show of trust in revealing that information. He didn't miss it.

Jayke took a breath and felt his arms rise amazingly painless with his unburdened chest. "Feel like I could take on a whole nest now." He said in real wonder. He'd experienced a similar feeling with the compound's serum, but never like this. His body felt naturally healed, not artificially repaired. "Thank you, I thought I'd have to do some foraging for healing herbs. You're saving me the trouble."

"Don't mention it." Oz shook his head.

Jayke didn't bother to hide his amazement at the little viridescent slime. Oz had thrown glowing slime against the walls and ceiling and the little slime caught the light with a transparent glint. Judging by how slowly it worked, he must've been out for hours. Had it gone under his clothes? His ribs felt fine.

"How long?" Jayke asked, his meaning implicit.

"At least two or three hours. I've been waiting for you to wake up before we move." He responded. "I needed the reprieve myself."

"What about that slime you were working on?" Jayke asked him. The blue man's project was gone.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"It's gone into the tunnels." He said simply. "It's cleared a few nests, slowgoing but absolute. We should be able to clean up the rest."

"Let's let the little guy finish up my arm then," Jayke said, gesturing to the healing slime. "Then we'll go."

The healing slime, or [Healing Slime] Jayke wasn't yet sure the nuance. With his magic, he knew that protection magic was presumably a field of magic, and [Protective Magic] was the proficiency Skill. But the healing slime was a little different, Jayke leaned towards thinking about it in the former manner.

It had bobbed its way back over to Oz when Jayke could finally consider himself healed. A quick check between them and they were ready to resume.

The emptied nests were apparent. The trail that the slime made was only apparent in the scarlet red of their targets. Bodies too were lying about, looking as if they'd been pierced and left to bleed out. Some of the corpses were stuck in the roots, their very home's defense working against their escape.

It wasn't so convenient that they had the choice to follow the thickest roots, they had completely blocked passage and so they were forced to wrap around, taking a carved tunnel. Jayke ran a hand across the grainy stone, worn down by who knew how long. He perceived the barest impressions in the wall, decoration maybe, sanded down by time.

When the roots returned, he diverted his focus to components he remembered, managing to envelop both of his arms. He focused on the torso, head, and neck, but found either task difficult without full concentration and composure. He held off on it, simply keeping both his arms thinly enveloped.

Jayke's reaction was fast. He cracked the first one against the wall and it fell to the floor. Oz's grey slimes launched themselves at it in its dizzied state. The second slashed at his arm, raking only a shield. Jayke missed it and it scrabbled up the wall, leapt over his head, and disappeared into the roots. Hissing chattering snapped at him from the tangled roots.

Jayke turned with sword drawn, but the first was already dead.

He never would've guessed how hard it was to punch such a small target. Especially one moving so fast. He'd got better. Slightly. But their extermination only went as far as the creatures allowed. If they stayed in their nests it would've been impossible to get to them. Luckily, it seemed their presence was felt as enough of a threat to be confronted.

"That's the fiftieth one," Oz added into the silence. "Plus the others." Referencing his slime no doubt.

"You're counting?" He looked at the bluish man.

Oz shrugged at him.

Their extermination continued. The biggest problem they had was when the creatures decided to retreat, never to emerge again. Jayke had gotten lucky a few times by sticking his entire armored arm into the roots and grabbing whatever vicious biter came at his hand. Then they were the easiest thing in the world to punch. Not all of them wanted a piece of him, however.

Oz assured him his slime would eventually get to them. He was more than happy to elaborate after Jayke asked him about the slime. It was apparently some kind of physical slime. One less permeable than an average slime. More durable instead. Its inherent ability was to manipulate itself into various forms. It was a primitive slime and young, so the least it managed were spikes. That was more than enough for these things though.

The scenery as they moved about was almost like a story. An underground village carved from stone. Every so often there were carvings and symbols that he assumed must've been writing. The language was lost to both of them. The stone village was abandoned and decrepit. Silent in its mission to hold its predecessor upon its shoulders.

Truly, he considered the myconid village above to stand on the shoulder of a giant. The stone village expanded downwards in some places, far beyond the scope of the roots above. Those tunnels were almost pitch black. Jayke was almost certain they'd lead to the Underways. Oz was inclined to agree.

Then an explosive chattering rang out through the roots. Louder and larger than anything Jayke had ever heard. Jayke and Oz went tense immediately. The staccato sound pierced the muffling quality of the roots and echoed among the stone.

It ended just as suddenly.

New Quest: [They're in the Roots!] (Unusual)

Rootgrimps are forest creatures that dwell under the greatest and oldest trees, absorbing nutrients through their roots. Rootgrimps are pack animals, usually all claiming a single tree or root system. Under the myconid village of Glow's Edge, a particularly large family resides. The eldest and largest of them have taken notice of the rapid extermination of their family.

Eliminate the Rootgrimp Elites by nightfall!

Bonus Objectives: Eliminate all rootgrimps by nightfall!

Rewards: EXP, Item

Note: Bonus Objectives affect preexisting rewards for the better. This effect generally presents itself in increases in quality or quantity but is altogether determined by the nature of the rewards. A small possibility exists that by completing Bonus Objectives hidden rewards may instead reveal themselves.

Jayke opened the prompt as soon as he'd noticed it. There were a number of others he left unopened, this one only bore his attention since it had appeared as soon as the chattering. It was immediately relevant.

"Did you get the same one?" Oz asked him.

"Rootgrimp Elites? Yeah." Jayke replied. "I would've gone with raccoon-beavers myself but my naming sense has always been terrible." He added.

Oz chuckled. "They do bear some resemblance." Jayke blinked at Oz's easy recognition. "I believe the System has recognized us as a party."

"A party?" Jayke gave him a sideways glance.

"A group of individuals granted the same Quest. Apologies, it's an ancient term." He said. "I'm more concerned whether that chattering noise came from those elites. They sounded quite large." Oz continued. "And-"

Echoing snarls in the distance.

"What's wrong?" Jayke asked quickly, recognizing something dark cross Oz's face.

"They've destroyed my slime." He said quietly. "We must prepare ourselves."

Jayke frowned, replaying the noise in his mind. Oz was right, they had indeed sounded big.

He might not have risked something like this before, but he found himself surprisingly unyielding here. The rewards were a nice justification. He imagined a [Sand Rabbit's Foot] only tailored to the forest or something similar. Partly, he was motivated by that. Some of that motivation was for the EXP too. The potential to become stronger.

Mostly, he just didn't want to run or hide. Not anymore. He wouldn't ignore opportunities as they came. He already had a backlog of regrets that stemmed from that. Sure, there was a fine line between insanity and opportunity, but he didn't think this was it. And yes, perhaps, part of him didn't want to fail Oz either. This test was their test after all. This Quest was theirs too. He had failed enough people in his lifetime.

Jayke turned back. "Anything?"

Oz shook his head. "I told you. My sensory slimes die before I get a read on anything. They're too fast." He explained. "The least I can tell you is where they perished."

The blue man had been using them as bait previously. After all, all they had needed was the location of the nests. Now, however, needing an actual grasp of their enemy, their capabilities were subpar.

"Where?"

"Left."

He was exposed. That much was the truth as he walked a handful of paces beyond Oz. He had to keep reminding himself to keep his muscles ready, preventing the stiffness he was sure would take hold if he otherwise didn't bother to. Turning left, he found a larger carved cavity. Stone rubble littered the floor, giving way to thick hairy roots.

Oz tossed a globule of slime that landed with a wet smack. Upon impact, it began to function like a glowstick, lighting the place in soft light, only accentuating the long shadows of the room.

Grey slime smeared across the floor.

Jayke stepped forward, cautiously keeping his attention on the still roots. He spotted the carvings of the long-ago village but paid them no mind, his eyes were for the roots. He kept his sword raised, having no particular experience with it, only of similarly weighted implements.

"This is the slime I sent out. The one that cleaned the nests." He grimaced, crouching near the smeared goo. "Fang or claw from those smaller rootgrimps shouldn't have pierced it."

"Must be the elites then." Jayke assumed.

Oz closed his eyes a moment. He pointed into the roots. "They all died there. The sensory slimes." He said, pointing at an eerie tunnel made of roots.

Jayke's eyes widened imperceptibly. His sword twitched, but his eyes focused on the roots. Not the shadows. Barely, just barely, the illumination of the slime had revealed the surrounding room. It was filled with the thick hairy roots that the rootgrimps liked to hide in. But also long shadows. Shadows taller than Jayke was.

"Oz." His voice was no different than usual, but the edge of his words were clear. Oz looked up at him, peacefully unaware. "It's behind you."

His face dropped. "What?" He said cautiously.

Jayke was looking at the roots. The wall to Oz's rear was in his peripheral vision but Jayke had always been observant. He wasn't at all looking at the shadows. He wasn't paying attention to them in the slightest. In fact, for all the world, it looked like he was peering into the tunnel of roots.

Definitely not discussing the potential dangers lurking behind his companion. Definitely not acknowledging the slight shift of a furry outline.

"Oz you need to move when I do." Jayke kept his tone neutral and unchanging. "You need to get behind me." He said. "That thing is near twice my height. It's standing right there in the shadows." Jayke's eye twitched despite himself, trying to rotate and look at the thing he was so focused on.

Oz looked at him. He was still crouching down by the slime. His legs were tensed. "Okay. I'll dive to your left then." He said simply.

For a very peaceful moment, nothing happened. Jayke stared at the roots. Oz crouched by the slime. And that thing stayed in the shadows. For a very peaceful moment, everything was still.

Jayke turned on a dime. Something shifted. The whole room erupted in painfully loud chattering. Oz dived to Jayke's right. His shield absorbed the impact and Jayke felt the impact through to his knees. His eyes widened as something long and lanky stepped from the shadows. Two legs. Two arms. Two big eyes. Stripes across its body broke up its outline.

Its mouth opened and closed three times. Each accompanied by a loud clack of sharp teeth.

"What the hell?" Jayke whispered, his neck craning upwards. 

"Jayke that thing is five times the size of the regular rootgrimps," Oz said quietly, staring at it.

It dropped down on all fours like lightning and lunged around Jayke's shield for his throat. Jayke sacrificed his arm and caught its mouth, immediately poured magic into his armor. The fangs ripped into flesh as Jayke's sword found its shoulder. 

He fell backward as its scrabbling limbs pushed him down. He kicked up at its body and it took its teeth away and reared its head chattering. Claws ripped at Jayke but he pushed with a shield and shoved the thing off of him. It scrambled to its feet and hugged the shadows, but Jayke didn't let it leave his sight.

"Bastard beaver-raccoon." Jayke spat. Blood dripped from his sword and the thing was favoring three limbs while it walked. Jayke carefully approached.

It hissed. Jayke paused. Then it rammed into him from the side. He gasped, catching its head between his arms, fangs biting and ripping at the air. He locked his arms around its neck, from under its arms. Its long limbs worked against it, but its entire body was flexible enough to squeeze through roots despite its size. Its body curled up and its legs were brought all the way behinds its head, it was going for Jayke's back. He was debating saving his back and releasing-

But then Oz was there, peeling the monster's body back down. He sat on it unceremoniously, getting around its kicking legs easily.

"Keep holding it." He said.

Then, as if to spit in Jayke's whole perception of the world, he began to punch it. Right in the stomach. Repeatedly. Jayke's one learned rule: Not to punch monsters. Rebutted.

It screamed, gasping up air between chattering its teeth. Its noises were unholy and loud, raw scrabbling desperation. Neither Jayke nor Oz let up. Oz broke something, Jayke squeezed its throat. He'd clamped down on the jaw when he realized the chattering might've been a call for help. 

The thing lasted longer than Jayke expected. It had kept up the fight until the very end, the pure primal instinct to survive driving it. Eventually, Jayke and Oz got there.

The blue man stood up. Pushing the corpse to the side, he offered Jayke a hand. He took it.

In turn, Jayke regarded the blue man. After a moment, "You know, you didn't flinch either, Oz." 

He looked at Jayke. "I know." He plopped a viridescent slime on Jayke's shoulder.

"Thanks."

What followed were a few hours of preparation. Long hours weathering small attacks from stray rootgrimps. Recovering, resting. 

When they finally decided to move it was with the knowledge of what lurked out there. For better or for worse, they knew now what a Rootgrimp Elite was. They followed the sensory slimes. That meant going down the root tunnel. In that, both Jayke and Oz were exposed since the rootgrimps could presumably strike from anywhere there was enough space.

They killed a number of the regular rootgrimps before they made their way to a clearing. A massive root shot straight down from above. Soil rather than stone surrounded it and all other roots seemed to afford the larger one space. It made sense, there were no other nutrients for smaller roots to absorb.

The tunnel subsided and they were surrounded with soil. The compacted soil had no support or stone foundations. It was like an ant colony in that regard, Jayke guessed the rootgrimps managed some type of method to keep their nests from collapsing.

He stared at his quarries. Knowing this was a trap. They'd prepared for it after all.

Two lithe creatures slinked from the large root. Jayke noticed the one clinging to the roots right where the tunnel ended. Rootgrimp Elites. Regular, smaller rootgrimps poured from the roots. As if they'd been waiting the entire time watching their progress. Another elite. 

"Oz," Jayke said. "Are you ready with that?"

"Ready." His voice echoed from behind.

"Four Rootgrimp Elites." Jayke counted. "A dozen or so regular ones." He hesitated, this might be that fine line of insanity. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." He repeated.

Jayke breathed. Full armor would've been nice if enveloping himself didn't take up so much of his concentration. Here, when he could see his opponents, he opted to just react to them. He took a single, very hesitant step.

Then the room erupted into chaos and Jayke forgot his inhibitions. Rootgrimps crashed against his shield with a chittering noise. He kicked out at them, slashing downwards. They were confused by the shield for only a moment before, like water, they rushed around it.

His sword met them.

Jayke impaled one. The other leaped at him. Mid-air grey slime impacted the things face, sending it flying into its friends. It pulled at the slime but the slime grew spikes and killed it instantly. Then it roamed and bobbed towards the next target. The rootgrimps recoiled.

Oz slung four more of those slimes into the rootgrimp pack. Jayke eyed the elites, slinking at the shadows of the room. One of them was missing. He frowned, looking around. Above him? No. Oz?

He twirled around and conjured a shield purely on a hunch. Oz widened his eyes and looked up at the grey-blue shield. The elite fell from above, fangs and claws outstretched right from above the blue man. It struck Jayke's shield with its full weight and Jayke strained against it. Oz dived out of the way immediately. The shield shattered, just as he felt rootgrimps at his legs. He kicked them off, slicing one open. He couldn't spare his companion the attention.

"Oz!" He yelled over his shoulder. 

The response was delayed, but after a moment, "I'm fine!" He yelled back. 

Jayke threw up another shield, another stray rootgrimp cracking its skull on it. Jayke stomped on its head, splattering its brains. He pushed the rest that bore down on him off with an effort of will and had a moment's reprieve. He turned, the elite that had tried for Oz had a slime stuck to it much like a sea urchin might stick into someone's hand. It chattered, overtaking the sound of the battle.

Jayke's attention had lapsed too long. He spotted the rootgrimps dodging away from the slimes, but between five of them, a number of the rootgrimps got caught. The battlefield was limited, and the nimble rootgrimps were getting caught in the slime 'mines'.

Jayke snapped his attention to the shadows just in time to see two leaping figures. He swung a shield hard to the left and caught one completely off guard. It hissed scrabbling and landed among the slimes. It howled in pain as the slimes began to rip into it. Two of the slimes found purchase and the rest were thrown off.

It punched Jayke in the face. Before he could even fathom the fact there were no claws involved, he dived to the right ducking lunging hands. The creature brought whipcord limbs down on him like a hammer. He managed to dodge out of the way, his feet kicking up soft soil. 

He stabbed the creature in the shoulder and it dropped to all fours moving like a cat. Lowering itself, it pounced to the side, then launched straight at him. He blocked its momentum with a shield, dropped it, then stabbed it in the face. Breathing hard, he took in the rest of the battle.

Corpses lay about.

Oz was carefully at the edge of the battle, muttering and directing the slimes to the best of his ability. The other elite that had initially gone for Oz was now nothing but a bloody pincushion. Another had succumbed to the slimes when Jayke had thrown it to them. One lay dead at his feet.

He was about to relax when he realized there had been four.

He ate soil. Face shoved hard into the ground. He tried pushing off but failed. Suffocating as something ripped into his back. He turned his hand over, forming a shield around his back only for it to shatter moments after. His sword slapped weakly against his enemy, unable to get a good angle. Weak. Helpless.

He heard faint yelling.

He screamed into the soil with every piece of flesh ripped out of his back. Flailing limbs did nothing but accentuate his pointless muffled screaming.

More distant yelling, like the sprinkle of rain in a thunderstorm of pain.

He felt it then, the irony. The cool comfort of safety. The absolute guarantee that he could fall through the door and into his [Safehaven]. Among the fresh lacerations and scarlet flashes of pain, that cool certainty rang like a bell. He could escape. Drop right into safety and forget this terrifying creature. He could do it, he knew he could with every passing second. Escape and eat the healberry. Forget the pain.

Run.

"Like fucking hell!" He hissed, soil in his teeth.

The weight fell off his back and he passed out.