When I came to I was soaked, bone deep exhausted, and sore as hell, but to my suprise still very much alive.
A quick glance to my peripherals told me I was back up to [3/5 HP]. I also noticed the battle of the bats had earned me another handful of dungeon points but was more interested in how long I’d have had to have been passed out to recover that much health.
In any case, the first order of business was to get myself situated and take stock of my surroundings.
Luckily my rucksack, while looking pretty waterlogged, had survived the trip with me.
I dug around inside to get out my glow crystal lantern and secured to my pack so it was Suspended over my shoulder. The dim radiance it gave off was more than enough to light up the area to my dark adjusted rat vision.
The first thing that immediately caught my attention was the giant armoured badger corpse firmly wedged into the narrow tunnel I found myself in. Water Trickling over and past the body wherever it found a gap against the walls and ceiling. It formed a small but steady stream that half filled the floor of the passage, flowing down and away out of sight.
I examined the water from where I stood at the edge of the little river. It was strangely hot and had a faint sulphurous scent. I was reminded of hot springs I’d come across in the wilds a time or two. A bit pungent but should be safe enough to drink. I took a few gulps and grimaced a little at the heavy mineral tang. Still, nearly drowning was an unexpectedly dehydrating affair so it was refreshing and a real relief all the same.
Me and the badger must've fallen straight through into the aquifer running under the shroom forest and were swept away till we ended up here. Wherever here was. I was just lucky to have ended up on the dryer side of the badger dam or I would've ended up an actual drowned rat instead of just looking like one.
I tried a quick [Delver’s Insight] on the badger, not having the opportunity in our frantic first encounter. I got nothing from it however so it seemed the skill didn’t work posthumously. Oh, well. Can’t win ‘em all.
The badger was lodged with its back towards me so even if the Spear of Poking was intact I wouldn’t be getting it back from where it had been stuck in the big brute’s nose. Which also reminded me to check around for my shield.
As I’d feared Tim’s pot lid was also nowhere to be seen.
I hoped the goblin and his birds made it through ok. Sure getting separated wasn’t ideal but if everyone made it out alive I’d definitely count it as a win. Anyway, If I could find my way to the settlement we were heading to we might be able to meet back up. I had the feeling if Tim vouched for me it would go a long way in smoothing over my introduction into local Dungeon society.
I still should be in the general vicinity even after the unintentional rapids ride. I doubted I’d have made it through alive if the trip had been anything but a short one. Even if it takes a good deal more leg work to locate Pitfall without a guide. The activity from a settlement is bound to leave traces in its surroundings I can use to hone in on it.
So no need to change my plans, just my methods.
My course of action confirmed I returned to my more immediate concerns, namely I was fucking exhausted. Being unconscious for a while was no replacement for actual rest.
However, just plopping down on the bank of the little river would've been a bad idea. Looking at the cave’s walls, about a third of the way up, there was a clear water mark Indicating the usual amount of flow through the tunnel. If the badger dam even partially failed I’d have been washed away in an instant.
I searched for the nearest highground I could rest on in relative safety and found a little alcove. It looked like it was made by one of the mineral deposits that dotted the walls coming loose and falling away. It was near the ceiling and just beyond a bend in the tunnel. As good a camp site as I was gonna get all things considered so I took out my climbing hook and scrambled my way up.
After reaching the ledge I leaned on my ratty instincts to help me groom myself dry. It was an oddly soothing process once I learned to ignore the taste of wet fur. The tunnel was plenty warm with all the heat radiating from the water so I didn’t even bother trying to get a fire started. All my tinder was still pretty soaked anyway. I stowed my lantern, curled nose to tail and drifted to sleep.
~~~~~
I jolted awake from a nonsense dream where human me had been commanding an army of regular sized chickens to storm a castle made of cheese. Still groggy I tried to decipher what had disrupted my rest. After a moment I realised it was the faint sound of splashes coming from down the tunnel, in a rhythm so easily recognized I had done so literally in my sleep. It was the tromp of boots in water. Seemed like I was about to have company.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
~~~~~
I tucked myself into the corner on the alcove the best I could. I was going to let whoever it was passed by and get a good look at them before deciding what to do. I also activated my light foot veil for good measure. I regretted not having any weapons left to have at the ready, tooth and claw would have to do if it came to a fight. I had the high ground at least. If I got spotted and they were hostile I could go for the eyes then make a break for it in the aftermath.
Contingency plan in place, I waited.
It wasn’t long before a dim light rounded the bend in the tunnel and joined the sounds of splashing. Followed by the distanced echoes of a voice. I couldn’t make out the words, but the language was familiar. Goblin. Still, I only heard the one set of footsteps and the voice didn’t have the cadence of someone holding a conversation. It was more like someone… complaining out loud to themselves.
So, probably just the one goblin.
I relaxed a little. Even if they weren’t as amenable as Tim the Best Goblin, I was pretty confident I could out manoeuvre and outrun a lone goblin on foot if it came to it.
The speed of a properly motivated dungeon rat was nothing to sneeze at after all. On the other hand if they were even a fraction as friendly as Tim I might not have to start my day with any eye biting at all.
The voice became clearer as they neared. They, or rather she by the tamber, was indeed having herself a good grumble.
“Oh yeah, yeah. It’s always ’Oi Gig go fetch ten whatcha doodles.’ or ‘Gig, clean out the pens if you're so bored’. I’m not a sprat anymore. I got skills, damn blast it!”
She was clearly distracted so instead of waiting for her to come to me I decided I could risk a peak around the edge of my alcove.
She was, as I expected, a goblin. Moreover she was the youngest looking goblin I’d ever seen. Just barely out of adolescence if I had to guess. Small framed and thin limbed with a mop of purple hair lit up by the lantern she was carrying in one hand. She had a shovel slung over her shoulder and was wearing clothes more suited to work then combat. Her youthful features screwed up in clear disgust.
“This whole place stinks like fuckn’ farts and I’m sweating down my ass crack! And for what? A shitty handful of shitty coins. Blah!” She punctuated her statement by kicking a rock that had the bad luck of crossing her path.
I was warming up to the kid already. Enough to take eye biting off the table at least. I downgraded the contingency plan to face scratching, and only if absolutely necessary. Nevertheless I reminded myself that letting your guard down completely just because someone was young could easily prove to be a fatal error. If growing up on the streets hammered any lesson home it was young didn’t necessarily mean helpless or harmless. I used to have the scars to prove that from both sides of that equation. Well I mean I still did if you count the emotional scars. Yeah, those still count for sure.
Of course I also used [Delver’s Insight] to snoop whatever extra information I could.
[Giggera The Mercenary]
[Monster type: Goblin]
[Level:6] [Hp:14/14] [Mp:12/12]
[Title: Denizen]
[Perks: Mercenary Spirit, Gobbish Tenacity, Dungeon Babble]
[Drawbacks: Cornered Frenzy, Enforced Contract ]
[Dungeon Points: 2 ]
Oh hey, the full status, that's a first.
There were a few things I recognized from Tim’s status which made me inclined to believe they were probably standard issue goblin stuff.
I didn’t know how levels compared across species, but she was the same level as the late clown spider, Mr. Skitters. (Though now that I think about it he’s probably well on his way to respawning already.) And nearly half what Tim’s level had been. So I was guessing that was pretty low for a goblin.
The mercenary motif was interesting, though considering what I gathered from her one sided diatribe it seemed more aspirational than anything at this point. Errand runner might be closer to the mark.
This impression was also reinforced by the fact She had fewer Dungeon Points then Bert the murder bird. The whole point of being a mercenary was making money, and it didn’t look like she was having much luck on that front.
After some deliberation and considering how well it worked out last time I decided diplomacy was worth a try here.
I cupped my paws to my snout and projected the best my little body could manage.
“Hey. How’s it going?”
The goblin froze stock still in an instant.
I tried again.
‘Um… Nice shovel? You wouldn’t happen to know the way to Pitfall by any chance?”
Gig started to back away while frantically looking for the source of the strange chittering voice she was hearing.
Clearly this wasn’t going great. Third times the charm?
I popped my head out from around the corner of my alcove. I gave what I hoped was a very friendly wave to draw her attention my way.
“Woah now, I’m just a talking rat. See? There's no need to freak out or anything, Ok?”
She freaked out.
Ah. Diplomacy failed.