When I finished my short rest I dug into planning my next moves. I’d just gotten to the point where I decided my new goal had to be finding a settlement and seeing what I could get for my little stockpile of dungeon points when I heard voices in the distance.
“Hey Irving, found one!” The voice was high pitched and Feminine.
“Coming Ma’am!” Presumably Irving. The voice was lower, Masculine, but still somehow squeaky. Young I’d guessed.
Soon the pair walk into my bubble of Perception. A Gnome woman in ranger kit and a baby faced dwarven lad in plain leather armour carrying a poll arm.
The Gnome woman sighed. “I keep telling you. Quit it with the ma’ams. My name’s Sarah.”
“Of course Ma’am” was Ivrings all to Predictable reply.
Sarah just rolled her eyes, the woman clearly knew a losing battle when she saw one. “What is it? Why do we want it? How do we get it?”
Ah, this was a field trip to show a rookie the ropes, the rest of the party were likely maintaining a perimeter while these two were on harvest duty. I’d played Instructor like that plenty of times.
“Yellow strangler ma’am. Best avoided lest you wanna be dragged outta dungeon by your ankles.” He was definitely quoting someone with the line. “We want them because the alchemists have a standing bounty for the flowers and roots. Use to make paralysing powder and quick vine potions.” Yupp, and that’s why I hadn’t been worried about getting stuck as a flower for too long. “How we get them is easy. Hook on a stick.” Lifting his poll arm in demonstration. “They don’t spray if they're dead.”
Sarah nodded and waved for him to get on with it.
The clumsy lummox leaned over too far, tripped on his own feet, and tumbled face first into me. Ouch, that was half of my [Hp] gone. I could have ruined Irving's day there with [Poison Pullen] but I wasn’t going to attack an adventurer. Especially not one as green as poor ‘Irving Flower bane’ clearly was. That would be entirely Counterproductive. Dungeon monster or not, I was still a defender to my core. I protect the squishies. Had enough flower time anyway.
The young Dwarve back peddled fanatically Accompanied by a Litany of “Oh, crap. Oh, shit. Oh, crap. Oh, Shit.”
“Relax Kid. I’m not your average yellow strangler.” I said on the off chance one of them spoke plant. Druid skills being a thing it was a real possibility after all. No luck.
Sarah aborted an unnecessary rescue attempt when I failed to spring my deadly trap.
“Huh, never seen a dud strangler before. You’re a lucky one Irving.” Clapping the young adventurer on the back after he’s gotten back on his feet. “Finish the job and let's get back to the others. Yellow stranglers are the least of the nasties in this dungeon.”
“Yes ma’am.”
The swish of a poll arm brought my garden visit to a close.
~~~~~
I came out of the black above where Flower me’s roots had been pulled up. I could see Irving and Sarah's backs as they hacked a path through the foliage. Bright-lichen covered stalactites hung from the craven’s ceiling. I’d guess right.
New fact learned: I’m stuck in the location where I died. No free walking tours if my corpse is dragged off to an Alchemist’s cook pot.
[Estimated Respawn Wait: 45 minutes ] New record.
The voice of someone about to get a kick in the teeth came from behind me.
“Eh, sorry about… Viv. She’s genuinely great if you aren’t on her shit list. Ending up in the boonies like that was plain bad luck and I didn’t want to just leave you hanging after your level 1 ass somehow managed to gank a gods damned spawn enforcer.” Dunnie paused a moment in Appreciation for my serpent slaying Prowess ”You mad bastard. Still, the go ahead was my call.” They shook their head before finally getting to the important part. “Anyway, I brought beer.” And held up a net bag Containing several bottles.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
With those magic words, all was forgiven. Teeth kicking cancelled.
I took the offered bottle and sighed.
“Didn’t learn everything I might've wanted, but she put me on the path at least. I appreciate the help.” I popped the cork on my bottle and enjoyed the Aroma a moment. “How do I get off Vivain Fukn’ winterbloom’s shit list? Knowing couldn’t Hurt my survival rate.”
“Easy. Bring booze.” Dunnie said, tapping a boney finger against their bottle.
I snorted “Genius strategy. Cheers.” And took a healthy swig of my beer. Dark ale. Not bad at all. “Had a proper rummage around my status with the expand trick. Some good, some bad. One fucking outstanding.”
Dunnie made a little “do go on” motion with their bottle.
“The good: I have a better handle on things overall plus have a perk called [Devler’s insight] that might have real potential if I can figure it out. Something for Information gathering by the Description.”
“Having something like that could be a big deal. Hope you can crack it sooner rather than later.” The reaper said before pulling the cork of their own bottle with their teeth
“You and me both. The bad: Looks like there's no setting spawn points for me. Title quirk. I’m officially a “deceased adventurer” by the way. From what I can gather that also means I don’t get to just power up into a dread mega Ravager toad or whatever. On top of that My [bound soul] perk says I’m always gonna get dumped into a level 1 mob, so no chance of just lucking into something higher up the food chain either. I’ll have to make due with whatever I get.”
The reaper winced in sympathy. “Ouch. The Dungeon is being a Stingy bastard with you. Might have a guess as to why but…”
“Dungeon secrets? Don’t worry about it. Not important right now. What is important, fucking outstanding infact: I’m still got the powers of a Full fledged adventurer in my back pocket, mana skills and all. Found out the fun way against that smug prick of a snake and my [Heroic Legacy] perk confirmed it.” I told Dunnie, not being able to contain the excitement any longer.
“WELL FUCK.” Is all they said. The reaper clearly was just as impressed as I had been by the Discovery.
“I know right? Can’t wait to try my Ambusher’s blade as a scorch hornet or some shit.” I said a stupid grin making its way on to my ghostly features.
They tsked and shook their head at that. “If you mean an ember-sting wasp they start at level 5, sorry kid.”
“Oh, so you can tell me things if they stomp all over my Aspirations?” I joked. “Wait... You just pulled that out your ass bones didn’t you?”
Dunnie burst out a laugh. “Don’t be an idiot, it’s called a pelvis.”
We both cracked up at that. It was strong ale.
“Any tips you can part with for finding a settlement? That’s next on my list. Got points burning a hole in my status.” I asked once we managed to compose ourselves.
“Smart move kid, I Heartily approve. Let me see…” after a few false starts with Dunnie bumping against dungeon secrets they managed to get out. “Try a thing with ‘real potential’ on walls.”
I nodded, catching their meaning. “Search for hidden doors and shit with [Devler’s insight]. Will do.”
After that we just finished a couple more beers, talked bullshit and joked about weird ass mobs I could end up as. I barely noticed the timer running down. Dunnie is the best Skeleton drinking Buddy a dead adventurer could ask for.
~~~~~
New fact learned: The effects of alcohol don’t carry over after respawns. Good bye my buzz, it was fun while it lasted. Hello respawn hangover, we meet again, you complete and utter turd.
[Respawn complete]
[View status? yes/no]
[yes]
[Rowanoak the Dauntless]
[Monster type: Red Eyed Rat]
[Level: 1 ] [Hp:5/5] [Mp:5/5]
[Title: Deceased Adventurer]
[Perks: Bound Soul, Heroic Legacy, Delver’s insight, Dungeon Babble, Rat bastard]
[Drawbacks: Outcast’s Brand ]
[Dungeon Points: 82 ]
Yes. YES! A plain old ordinary, completely boring dungeon rat. I was so happy I could have cried. Respawn warmup go!
“Rowan the Literal actual fucking rat!” I declared in Absolute triumph. This was just excited chitters and squeaks of course. That was fine. Great even. I was giddy.
Arms! Legs! HANDS! Still no thumbs, but close enough! Warm blood, blinking, all the luxuries a guy ask for. I was practically human again. A small fuzzy human with a tail. I’d met weirder people than that. Who cared?! Things looked normal, things smelt normal, things sounded normal. Things felt normal. Maybe even better than normal. Being a slime was old news. Rat is where it was at.