Among the great cities of the deep, the one oft whispered by land-folk is Heraful. The treasure city. Aquatic peoples of all races gather there. A foothold for expeditions into the Depths. A place vaster than even the Uncharted.
- The Great Cities of Aez
Oz woke up refreshed and lax. His clothes were neat and tidy again, clean for the first time in weeks. Truth be told, Oz didn't like traveling. He was much more the bookish sort so he'd never traveled outside of his father's library until a year ago. As a result, he had never experienced anything like an onsen in his entire life. The combination of [Purifying Waters] and [Restorative Waters], for all he cared, could've been named [Soul-Healing Waters] and he wouldn't have begrudged the name.
Oz's mind, as it did, drifted to slimes. He actually had something similar to both of those Skills. A purifying slime and healing slime. The former had helped with his hangover. Slimes. He and his father's passion. He stared up at the ceiling and sobered even more at the thought of his father.
His father had been an accomplished [Slimologist] and [Great Sorcerer] one of the rare individuals who rose above Level 40 in a Class. The Great Slime Mage Supreme, Ozzeop Slim - as he liked to announce himself - was as eccentric as his self-given title might lead someone to believe.
Oz gave a small smile despite himself, bittersweet. More sweet than bitter, no matter how hard he tried to feel sad about it. His father had that effect on him. He'd given Oz his passion for slime magic, an admittedly niche brand of magic that was as adaptable as slimes themselves. With his father's research and talent with magic, it was no wonder Oz developed it.
His Class was only one of the many things that he was thankful for from his father. Jayke had been as close to a correct guess as he was far from it. Oz was no mere [Slime Mage]. He was proud he took after his father in this sense - he was a [Slime Sorcerer]. For him, he lived and breathed slimes. He loved them.
As a Level 19 [Slime Sorcerer] he was fairly certain he could've managed [Runic Skies] as Jayke did. Though he was surprised the human was actually capable of hunting there. Nothing against the man, but Oz found it initially implausible until he remembered the human's other magic. He may well have had the tools, Oz just didn't realize it.
Someone's total levels reflected their life experiences whether that meant through craftsmanship, suffering, enlightenment, study, war, or just living. Jayke was an oddity. The human held himself in combat as someone who'd experienced danger many times but not necessarily been in combat. Like Oz, the man didn't even freeze or flinch in most cases. For all that, he was terribly naive socially. Oz had caught him staring at people unabashed - a gesture likely to have caused hostilities if not for the fortunate happenstance that most places they had been in were understanding about the stepping on cultural and racial toes. It was truly the makings of someone from deep within the Uncharted. He wondered what the tribe of pureblood humans Jayke had come from was like. It was obvious that whatever tribal order dictated their society, Jayke was within those closer to attuned humans given his knack for magic. Oz hadn't done much reading on humans recently. Judging from Jayke's apparent mental disorders and from what he'd overheard before, Oz wasn't too sure they were all still alive.
If he'd have to guess, Jayke's total levels should be somewhere between twenty or thirty. It was an easy estimate to make. The man had some kind of [Shield Mage] Class and another undetermined one. And he knew danger and wasn't shy in the face of it, so he knew war and battle - to an extent. But neither was he sporting the tangible aura of a high-leveled individual. Though, Oz did concede he may not have one - not all high-leveled people were obvious. All that led to his estimate, a level-sense so to speak. His was usually accurate.
He cleaned himself up before leaving the room. He, Ercur, and Jayke were to meet up later tonight for dinner. Oz found himself getting comfortable with the two. He hadn't had friends before. Oz was usually perfectly fine by himself. He found he didn't mind their company. His books and readings could always wait for him after all.
He exited his room once he was presentable. He took a minute to admire the view out his window. The downward slope of a city resting on a floating mountain overlooking an endless sky. Then, promptly, he took a step out of his door and got slapped with a floppy hat.
"Mmpmhph"
"Oh, Oz! Morning." Ercur was holding a hand to her eye, she greeted him with a cheery groan. No doubt the after-effects of their night drinking. She was wearing a despicable floppy hat. Somehow, sometime, she had gone and bought it. Oz dropped his gaze from her hat down to her.
"Morning. Why are you wearing that, Ercur?" He said exasperated.
"It looks good, doesn't it? Ugh, nevermind I can't." She opened her door and threw the hat back inside before she shut it.
Oz reached into his robe. [Slime Pocket]. And pulled out a purifying slime. The white speckled slime enacted a slow process on contact with the skin, pulling away toxins and impurities passively from the body. The magical process was penetrating and was of no discomfort to the user. Oz had long ago studied the painless tendrils that reached into the body. Harmless to everything but poison and impurities.
Gently, he tossed the slime on Ercur's face. "Mpmshpm!" She squealed.
"Purifying slime. Should help with the hangover." Oz grinned.
Oz had been planning on seeking out some names in Nubilum today. Old friends of his father. His father was a famous man for being the foremost expert in his field. That was, of course, slimes. If anyone needed anything remotely related Ozzeop Slim was the person to go to.
They wandered down to eat breakfast, finding most of the patrons of the inn doing the same. Late drinkers who were late risers like them. A slight breeze combed through the room as a result of open windows. The entire eating area was enveloped in the sound of faint wind-chimes. They might as well have been hammer strikes on an anvil to some of the seated patrons. A group of men groaned, leaning over their tables. A woman called for more water.
It was apparent that Jayke had already left the inn and so Oz was left with Ercur. He didn't mind though. She was a curiosity that Oz had taken to pondering.
She was almost as strange as Jayke, truthfully. The dryads were a whimsical race. A magical one. Tied to their trees, they could be as old as their partners. And trees could live quite long, he'd studied Tree Slimes before. Certainly, Oz detected that whimsical nature in Ercur, but more, she was tied to mortality. Half-dryads didn't have trees, nor did they need one.
What was odd was the fact she was traveling. As far as Oz knew, which was admittedly not much on the topic of race, half-dryads tended to stay happily in their forests. Ercur was here on a floating mountain. Neither rooted to the ground nor particularly filled with trees, sure trees were around the mountain, but as it was both of them were currently in the heart of the city.
She, unlike himself and Jayke, Oz assumed to be high-level. A [Gambler] of all things. He supposed that matched the playful description of dryads. She did have an aura, one Oz suspected but couldn't really prove.
"Your father's friends?" Ercur asked him.
"Correct," Oz pulled out a parchment, though he'd long memorized the names on it. "Friends of his in Nubilum. In the Practioner's Coterie he was looked down upon. Such a great mind, wasting his talents on the study of basic slimes - so they said." Oz scoffed. "They know nothing. His real friends lie without. He wanted me to find them. For that, well therein lies the mystery."
Ercur raised a green eyebrow. Her eyes seemed to shimmer with emerald curiosity. "Sounds like a Quest."
Oz looked at her with a calculating gaze. He found nothing in her visage that was dishonest. He was cautious. It was good practice to keep one's Quests private. Doing so revealed one's goals and such details could be telling to the wrong person. Especially Personal Quests.
"Yeah," Oz answered her.
Personal Quest: [The Legacy of the Slimologist] (Rare)
In his passing, The Great Slime Mage Supreme, Ozzeop Slim, entrusted his legacy to you. The absolute fruits of his research as a [Slimologist], the pinnacle of everything he had ever worked for. The singular crowning achievement he could call the result of his entire life's work. All that's left is to find it.
Rewards: Unknown
Ercur perked up. "Can I tag along? I have nothing to do and I need a break from gambling until the regulars feel lucky again."
Oz looked at her. "You really do just live in the moment, huh?"
"What other way is there to live?" She looked like the picture of life.
Oz regarded the faint happiness that she wore and found himself envious. He answered quietly, "In the past and the future."
A year and a half since his father's death and he still had the same reaction to the page of his Personal Quest in his System-book. First, a smile to the fact that the System had recognized his father's silly title. And second, the memories. Oh, the memories, he braced himself.
"Ozlipp." He called. "My greatest work, my research - it cannot die with me, it cannot stagnate, it must go on. You must find it, seek out my closest friends." The blue man coughed hard, blood on his hands. The healing slimes around him cleaned the spatter. And yet... his health, still unstable.
Oz had never left his father's side, not even with all the slimes nearby. He couldn't. He wouldn't. "What is it, father? Can you not simply tell me?" Despite his calm voice, tears ran down his face. "Please."
And his voice was so soft. As soft as the smile that alighted on his face like the most elegant Butterfly Slime. He smiled, miraculous in the fact that no weakness overtook him, no coughing fit or groan. "And what would the meaning of it all be? If I were to simply hand you my legacy for you to continue it's meaning would be lost. It is an adventure Oz, the likes of which I embarked on at your age. Do you trust me - that it is worth it? Even if it took decades, do you trust me?"
"From the very center of my being," Oz said solemnly. The truth pulled out of him so easily. "Why then? Why make me do all this? You might still get better." The words were faint, even as a memory. But in that, they were the brightest emotion. "Don't give up hope." A whisper.
His smile was painfully rueful as if his death was already a certainty. "It is all my life's work, Ozlipp. I have not lived for a short time, my legacy must mean something else I will fade from the world. Fade from your memory. There are things with slimes you've never even dreamed of, things to still discover, things even I have not fathomed." The healing slimes wriggled around Ozzeop, a bed of softly glowing emerald. They wriggled through his beard as if stroking its length as his father had always done in vitality. It might've been his father's doing, an inside-joke, subtle and hilarious if not entirely explicit - the type of joke that was so painfully typical of the man.
Emotion wracked Oz, forcing the edges of his lips downward. "I don't want you to die," Oz remembered his father's face then, that unflappable happiness - falter. He saw the gears turn in his father's mind, finding a solution as he always did.
Ozzeop cocked his head with a sudden thought and smiled. It healed Oz's heart for but a moment. It was the look Oz knew to associate with great fun, experiments, discovery, epiphany - bouts of his father's genius. He knew it too well - it struck his heart with sadness as much as happiness. Even here, his mind shined like the core of Light Slime.
"Consider this... my last adventure, Ozlipp. One last experiment we can do together. Father and son."
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Oz breathed slowly, looking through the window of Wind Rest inn. It's been a year and a half since then. "Why did he have to put it like that?" He said to himself. He found Ercur staring at him and realized he was talking aloud, to himself. "Sorry."
"Caught up in some memory?" Ercur asked him, strangely accurate.
"How'd you figure?" Oz rubbed his arm, remembering the loneliness. The emptiness of a vast library even filled with slimes. It had never felt so hollow in his entire life.
"Just lucky." She winked. Playfully deflecting her moments of acuteness. Typical of her, Oz concluded.
He breathed and steadied himself. "After... everything, I found this parchment among my father's things. I have it completely memorized. A list of people and their corresponding location. That's it. I know it was meant for me, his study was always tidy to the last scroll. He wouldn't leave one out if not for exactly this."
"He seems fun."
"Who?" The response caught him off-guard.
"Your dad." Ercur giggled. "He seems fun. The type of old bastard who'd do everything in his power to send his kid off with one last game. One last hand of cards to beat."
Oz smiled despite himself. "One last experiment, yeah." He relaxed. "He was always like that. An eccentric. He was... fickle. Everything to me."
Ercur looked envious. An emotion that Oz hadn't seen her display before. "You're lucky there. For parents." She said simply. "So then? There's someone on the list here in Nubilum right?"
"A Gallal Undercut. A blue and yellow feathered ava. That's all it says." Oz recited it from memory.
Ercur's eyes burned with curiosity. "Who was your old man anyway?"
"The greatest man I knew."
"Well, he was definitely something. Gallal Undercut isn't just a name on your list. He's a name." Ercur managed to deliver the words with equal parts nonchalance and intensity. Something about her emphasis gave him pause.
"What do you mean? He's a friend of my father's." Oz's eyes alighted with confusion.
"He's also got the seedier parts of the Floating City in his pocket," Ercur said curiously. "Your dad has some interesting friends. Don't look at me like that, you hear a thing or two when you're gambling." She shrugged suspiciously. "You expect the highest stakes to be up here close to the sky? No, the best games are in the mountain. That's where Gallal probably is."
"In the mountain?"
"It's a giant city on a floating mountain. Of course they're gonna build into it."
Oz narrowed his eyes. "Why are you suddenly knowledgeable about the city. You were just as in wonder yesterday. The city was new to all of us."
"Oz my Class doesn't exactly frequent the lawful areas of cities. This isn't my first time in Nubilum, but it is the first time on top of it. I've never seen wisavs up close. Those things are beautiful." Her eyes sparkled.
"Then where-"
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Ercur Tychus anticipated the question. No luck involved.
"Cloudsurf." She said with some measure of grandness. "The city under the mountain." The words were delivered with some significance.
Ercur didn't expect Oz to even recognize the name. It was the antithesis to Nubilum. Technically, the two were part of the same mountain and technically they were the same city, but each place had their uniqueness. No matter the fact they were connected. Nubilum floated above the clouds. Cloudsurf, well, surfed them.
"It's not a safe place, Oz," Ercur warned the blue man, immediately finding his gaze set. She found him oddly similar to the blue-skinned ice-walkers but the man didn't radiate frost nor did he even use ice magic. Slimes. Crazy. "[Thugs], [Criminals], and all manner of lowlife Classes frequent it. The tunnels of Cloudsurf are perfect for organized crime. It's strength above all down there."
"And you do just fine?" Oz said with sharp intelligence.
Ercur would give him that if nothing else. The man was more aware of her than Jayke was. Not that either needed to be. [Mages]. "It's as much home to me as your library is to you." She shrugged, grinning.
"The best [Gambler] whatever side of the Uncharted, right?" Oz sighed in askance.
"Be a pity if I couldn't navigate my way to the table, no?" Ercur laughed. Genuine, like most of her.
"I suppose so." Then he looked at her, light brown eyes, filled as much with intelligence as determination. "Can you show me how to get there?"
Ercur blinked. He wasn't asking for her help. "Hey, I can help you, you know?"
"I can't ask that."
"Don't be stupid, I'll help you. I told you I wanted to tag along right? Quests are always fun." Ercur leaned back in her seat and juggled the various ways to Cloudsurf in her mind. "Maybe we'll get lucky."
Oz looked skeptical. A healthy caution, but he was intending to go there with or without Ercur. And it wasn't as if she didn't have business there herself. It was, after all, the entire reason she came here.
To gamble, as per usual.
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Among half-dryads, Ercur was an oddity.
For one, she was exactly as old she seemed. Twenty-one. She was tied to her mortal coil more closely than her relatives. But that didn't make her unique, just uncommon. What truly set her apart was the fact she was traveling at her age, no matter how young. She'd left when she was sixteen.
Half-dryads tended to stay within their groves. Content to live off the land and extend their lives through the vitality of the very forest they nurtured. Not Ercur.
Unbeknownst to her, she shared many sentiments with Oz's father. A long life was meaningless if you did nothing with it. She had learned that very early, much earlier than a dryad would normally come to the realization - and they always did. It was the only reason that her magical half even had a mortality rate, they realized eternity was a pointless endeavor.
Ercur found that life was exactly meaningless if you did exactly nothing with it. It was the very same reason that led her to her Class, her calling ever since she left her grove. No more was there Ercur the [Grove Tender], she had lost the Class in its entirety. As a result, her [Gambler] Class had risen much faster to match her being.
More, Ercur was the only dryad person, half or full, that she knew to be just as comfortable in crowded tunnels and city scaffolding as she was in the forest. In fact, she dared say she was more accustomed to the former.
That was what made Ercur Tychus unique.
She breathed in the musty lit tunnels, cloaked figures moved about. Hooded people, wearing thick clothes braced themselves against the cold blasts of air that circulated through the tunnels. The stone surroundings were chilly to the touch, a result of non-exposure to the sun or otherwise.
"I would've never known," Oz said to the side of her. He was surreptitiously glancing around. It was understandable, the people down here were markedly more diverse. You would rarely catch a flash of colorful feathers, for example.
"Prosperous cities lead to underbellies of crime," Ercur said. "It's not all crime here, mind you. Just easier to get away with it. The tunnels attract the races less accustomed to the sunlight or wind. The caven, shadshin, really any of the dwellers of the Underways probably find it more comfortable down here."
Ercur's eyes were a sharp green in the dim lighted tunnels. Light crystals were affixed to the ceiling and tunnel. They were, in fact, valuable fixtures but [Thieves] needed light too. Anyone with eyes needed them, so anyone with sticky hands were often dissuaded. Weak light encompassed the tunnel, brushing against wild ferns finding life among the cracks.
They walked through a large tunnel. It was what could be considered one of the largest in the tunnel-system in that it connected other smaller tunnels leading to various points under Nubilum. Particular sections of the literal underground were guarded by [Guards]. These, more often than not, led to tunnels that came under above-side establishments.
"Where are we going?"
"The gambling house," Ercur responded.
They took a turn into a medium tunnel and a number of eyes settled on both of them. They flicked from Ercur to Oz. "The gambling - why?" Oz asked suspiciously.
"It's as good a place as any to find Gallal. There's a lot of places he could be, but trust me when I say my hunches are usually right." And she wasn't lying. A combination of some of her Skills could point her in the right direction.
She'd put money that Gallal was at the gambling house. It was one of the most frequented establishments by the big names in Cloudsurf. Not just for gambling either. That was just an excuse to get everyone with power, wealth, and influence in the same room.
As such, it was a fair chance someone who knew where Gallal was would be there. So Ercur determined. She hadn't been to Cloudsurf in months.
They passed a pair of young shadshin youths. The rat-like whiskerish people that were often associated with [Thieves]. Ercur felt for them, slightly. Dryads were usually stereotyped as dumb and airheaded. Some knew her people as they were - wise, generous, and kind souls. But those were the few. The pair of shadshin youths scurried off into the darkness, their dark-vision allowing them the advantage in moving through the tunnels of Cloudsurf.
Silly kids.
Ercur gave them a cheery smile as they watched her from the darkness. He could see beady eyes in shock.
Oz rose an eyebrow at her. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, nothing. Just letting the kids know we know we're marked."
Oz looked around. "Where?" That was the thing about both her companions. They were oddly accustomed to danger. Was that a [Mage] thing? Or simply an oddity of her group?
"Calm down, Oz. They're gone already. They thought we were new here." She explained to the slime enthusiast. She chimed. "Good thing I'm not."
"They really would have tried to rob us?"
"They try to rob everyone." Ercur laughed. "At least, in this section of Cloudsurf. Come on now, I see the gambling house."
Dim lit tunnels touched with damp greenery gave way to entire caves full of actual buildings. Ercur had always liked the aesthetic of the place, even though she knew her ancestors would probably have a heart attack borne from claustrophobia. Buildings were carved from the very stone around them. An entire network of stone, one of the hearts of Cloudsurf - the Stone Web.
A building plan that was carved away inch by inch. It formed, as its name implied, a web. A web of interconnected buildings and structures that held one another up. A series of connecting stone pillars which could act as a base for buildings or contribute to the structural integrity of the web as a whole.
Ercur was only interested in a rather large building suspended high above them by rocky pillars and the connections to its neighbors. Lanterns hung from the supports surrounding it, throwing the whole thing into a warm glow.
"It's not a terrible walk," Ercur assured the blue man. She was grinning, however, knowing how she took the place her very first time. In some ways, this was just as magnificent as Nubilum. "Man, you should see the look on your face." She laughed. "Welcome to one of the hearts of Cloudsurft. Stone Web.
Oz was looking agape at the entire structure.
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The fact that Oz was left speechless was not surprising. He was a semi-quiet man to begin with. And despite all his studies, all of his worldly knowledge, Oz was well aware that he was, in fact, not well-traveled. Nor was he worldly himself. He was sheltered. And he knew it.
It was why he couldn't help but pause at the view. Like a petrified spider web that had caught entire buildings. Only, rather than the regular two-dimensions of spider patterns - three. Everything carved immaculately out of stone. He wondered how such an excavation could leave the mountain stable. Ercur had waved him off - that he'd find out soon enough.
Not for the first time, he couldn't help but applaud his father. It was... well, he'd lost count of how many times the understanding of his father's last wish was hammered into his mind. This was why. To give his son the chance to experience this.
He missed the man.
He walked behind Ercur. They were climbing steep staircases or ladders across the support pillars, slowly making their way higher. A fall from this height was surely lethal for a regular person. Ercur moved fearlessly, nearing the shadows or rounding corners without hesitation. She wasn't even breaking a sweat, let alone panting. Oz was no slouch himself but the exertion and steepness of their climb-walk was nothing to scoff at.
It was obvious many of the Stone Web's supports or connections were thicker to accommodate foot traffic. And there were people moving about. In fact, some people hopped off the path altogether and climbed around the houses or loitered among unreachable stone pillars. The dwellers mostly, the hunched nimble caven or scurrying shadshin.
Ercur didn't seem to mind their watchful eyes. In fact, it looked as if they were watching for something else. Oz ran his hand across the stone railings of the path, immaculately carved. Perfectly uniform banisters. And entirely in one piece. Cold to the touch and damp, he'd almost forgotten they were in a cave, very much entertaining the idea of them being in a spider web.
The entire place was so vast that the surrounding cave was out of focus. There were only the buildings around them and that which connected them. A light fog surrounded everything as if a cloud had managed to find its way into the cave. Suddenly, he felt the temperature rise a notch. Warm rather than cold.
Then a burst of wind exploded from below.
Oz grabbed the nearest railing and braced himself. It whipped violently at him. "What the - wind?" He exclaimed. He turned wildly and found Ercur arms splayed and hair whipping upwards. The wind was warm, rising.
Then his ears keyed into the voices around him.
"Cloudsurf!" They yelled. Hooting and cheering at the rush.
Oz stared down and couldn't find anything that indicated where the wind came from.
"It's called Cloudsurf for a reason, Oz!" Ercur yelled at him. The wind was loud in his year. Her voice was lost amidst the echoing calls of the entirety of Stone Web. "You haven't seen anything yet!" She yelled faintly
"Wooohooo!" Someone yelled. Then Oz saw a body fall straight down past him. Passing right in front of him. It was a caven man, a long-limbed hunched form.
"There one goes!" Ercur pointed wildly. "Watch him, watch him!"
Oz pulled his head over the railing only to whip it back over as something shot up towards the cave ceiling. It was the caven! Only now, his limbs were extended. Flaps under his arms and legs caught the warm air. But he was facing upwards, catching the wind at his back. Then, he was dancing upside down, moving across the undersides of the buildings and the web. Dropping, before opening his wings again, and shooting up with the warm current.
"Yeahhhhh hoooooo! It's a good gust everyone! Surf!" He yelled.
"Here we go!" Someone else yelled back.
And suddenly, there were people shooting downwards. Some people leapt off like bullets, facing straight down. Others had their arms crossed with a smiles on their face, feet first. Some came down arms up and feet straight like an arrow. Some were belly down, or adding their own flair. Everyone was yelling and cheering, excitement - an electric jolt of adrenaline that even Oz couldn't avoid.
Oz was entirely dumbfounded. He actually couldn't fathom what was happening for a moment. They were... suicidal! Catching the wind like this?
Ercur's windchime giggle pierced through to Oz and she found her excited and pointing. "This is what I love about Cloudsurf. Oh, well aside from the gambling. The free show! [Windsurfers]!"
And then, like a slingshot, a gust of warm wind howled through the Stone Web, shooting everyone upward like a hail of bodies. None of them ever hit anything on their way back up. Oz was bracing himself as someone appeared upside-down smiling at him before he opened his wings and shot further and higher. If ever they did land, it with perfect grace and back on their feet. They'd used the momentum of their rise to walk on the undersides of the buildings, adjusting their path before they succumbed to gravity once more.
Skills at work, they walked longer than they should've, bled momentum slower than what was strictly possible.
Oz was in awe.
"Yep, it's always amazing watching them." Ercur commented. "Come on then, let's get to the gambling house. Don't forget the reason you're down here."
The reason he was here was because of his father. But that was the thing, the reason his father had roped him into this adventure was to see the very things he was witnessing. To experience the wonders of adventure and explore the world. In that sense, this very well might have been the reason for his visit.
He conceded the point though. Getting too semantic was something more suited to his father. "Lead the way."