Dinkum nodded in understanding, acknowledging Gig’s plea of innocence. “I have no doubt. Still it might be best to go picking for a day or two. Your Boss seems the type to enjoy the Green Sea, and besides, no tour of Pitfall is complete without meeting Old Goerge.” The Goblin suggested, mischief shining in his eyes again.
Before I could interject, the voice that had continued roaring demands and promising dire repercussions gave one final ultimatum of “Don’t make me come up there!” before beginning an suitably ominous slow countdown from ten. That seemed to really light a fire under Gig.
By the time the ear rattling countdown hit “Eight” all my acquisitions that had still been laid out on the counter were scooped up by the mildly panicked looking Goblin girl, and me along with them. It seemed Gig was going to make a habit of doing that.
The sight of me being unceremoniously hauled around like a child’s plush toy seemed to be the last straw, the shopkeeper burst out into open laughter. Between guffaws he mangent to gasp out “Feel free to raid the kitchen on your way out.” finally adding “If the Sheriff asks me, you were never here.” as he waved us off.
Gig was already halfway to the back of the shop by the time I managed to gather my wits about myself again. Even with the unexpected developments, the Mob Beacon was still very much in the forefront of my mind. Knowing full well the first rule of junk shops and not wanting to lose the golden opportunity the beacon represented . I did the only thing I could think of in the scant moments afforded to me. I attempted to invoke the most ancient and powerful of covenants. I twisted in Gig’s grasp to look Dinkum in the eye, pointed squarely at the beacon, and declared “Dibs!” with as much gravity as I could muster.
The cheeky bastard of a shopkeeper just gave me a thumbs up and an exaggerated wink, clearly not even trying to fight back his hysterics anymore. He could laugh all he’d like, but come hells or high water, one way or another I’d be back for that beacon. I just had to figure out a way to afford the damn thing in the meantime.
Sheriff Big Belly was just rounding “Four.” as the Goblin girl tripped a concealed latch on the wall, causing one of the back shelves to swing away. Revealing the hidden passage behind it. Before “Three.” had finished being called Gig had slammed the passage shut behind us.
~~~~~
I was now three for three on Goblins having nicer apartments than me. Dinkum’s abode turned out to be a fairly spacious natural grotto with a series of what could best be described as pavilions draped with a patchwork of plush fabrics serving as the various rooms. Not to mention a Gods be damned waterfall feeding a pool and river that divided the back third of the space transforming that section into a full on garden. The waters sparkling prettily under the bright lichen coating the vaulted ceiling. What the actual fuck. There were nobility back home who’d kill for accommodations half as appealing.
Evidently the junk business had been working out well for the Goblin. However my appreciation of the view was cut short. I had just managed to wriggle free and reclaim my spot across Gig shoulders when she dashed into the nearest of the pavilions. The harried young Goblin pulled a big burlap sack from a cupboard and began shoving the loose goods she’d been carrying into it alongside whatever provisions she could lay her hands on. Before I could get a word in edgewise she was already finished and was darting towards a barred iron gate leading out of Dinkum’s little domain.
She’d clearly had practice at making this particular hasty escape.
~~~~~
We were already snaking our way down the web of tunnels that had laid past the gate by the time I had a chance to speak up.
“What in all the hells was up with that?” I proclaimed.
“Eh, Sorry Boss. No reasoning with Bigs when he’s riled up. Woulda just yelled a whole bunch more then had me shovelling shit for a week.” She huffed as she tried to readjust her grip on the bag filling her arms. “Bigs’ll cool off.” She added, sounding more hopeful than assured.
From bits I’d been able to gleam from Big Belly’s tirade, the issue at hand was the, admittedly disastrous, entrance we’d made at the bathhouse. Genuinely however, none of that had been the young goblins doing and getting punished for basically just surviving an unlucky roll of the dice was straight up horse shit in my book. I was fine with roughing it a couple more days if that’s what it took to get Gig outta hot water here.
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“That badger was gonna make a mess of things whether you’d come along or not.” I said, still indignant on Gig’s behalf. “Honestly, if blame had to be parsed out, it was more my fault than yours. I was the one that dropped the badger into the river to begin with, but even that's more than a bit of a stretch. The lion's share of the blame would have to rest with the damned wolf-bats if anywhere at all.”
Heartened by my support, she started to nod along determinately with my assessment. “Yeah! Totally not our fault. Fuckn’ bats!” She declared, beginning to grow more relaxed again as we put distance between us and the irate sheriff. “Anyway Boss, if you liked Dinks shop you’re gonna love the Green Sea!”
That definitely piqued my interest. I tried to get more details out of her, but she stayed tight-lipped on the subject. Only saying it was better just to wait and see for myself.
She did however share that it was gonna be a long hike to get there, so I took the opportunity to start attuning some of the various magic doodads I’d acquired.
Attuning an item was a simple enough process. Only taking a few minutes each for simpler items. Saturate it with your Mana until whatever bit of the enchantment that makes attuning possible kicks in. It allows an item to, in essence, become an extension of yourself, its magic overlaying itself onto part of your mana pool. Enabling an item to draw a trickle of power to fill its reservoir, or if needed, pull Mana directly in the same manner as a Skill. The intangible link that attuning forms also allows you to manipulate the item as if it were an extra limb. In most cases it even meant controlling the item wouldn’t even require maintaining physical contact. Though distance still usually was a limiting factor.
The main drawback with attuned items was that a Mana pool only had limited ‘space’ available for attunements to be layered on. With more powerful items tending to require more space and if you needed more room then you had available you were shit out of luck. So things tended to become a bit of a balancing act. Especially for people with pools as unimpressive as mine.
Back before, most of my attunement had been reserved for my Shield of Enduring Defence only leaving me enough room left for a few useful odds and bobs. My load out now was going to be almost entirely useful odds and bobs. I equipped the Talisman of Sheltering Aura, Stop Boxes, and Waystone of Innocuous Illusion. Even had room left over to add the Mana Flick skill manual, just to have it ready for study.
However bouncing along on a goblins shoulders didn’t make for the best reading perch. So I just charged up the Sack of Looting and stowed it away alongside a few other things I shouldn’t need in a hurry and most of the food Gig had grabbed. The Goblin girl watched with fascination as each item disappeared into the little bag, only seeming to fill the minutest amount with each addition. To my satisfaction, by the time I’d finished Gigs hands had been freed back up and we had a spare empty sack to our names. Being encumbered like that while travelling in possibly hostile territory was never a great idea and is best avoided if possible.
I also made it a point to explain to Gig what each of the magical items could do, now that we wouldn’t be overheard by any cheeky shopkeepers. Including a few quick demonstrations; igniting the Firestarter Ring and locking a Stop Box to the flat of Gig’s axe, etc. She was gratifyingly impressed by what the new bag of tricks had to offer.
~~~~~
The journey was an uneventful one. Spent mostly in idle conversation, only interrupted by the occasional snack break. I suspected that was in no small part thanks to the gates that had been strategically installed to secure the route against monsters roaming out from any wild chambers connected up to the sprawling network of tunnels we’d been travelling.
Gig drew back the latch on the gate we needed to pass to reach our destination and swung open the postern made of sturdy metal bars. We rounded a final bend before the tunnel abruptly ended as if cut cleanly away simply transitioning to open air.
The meandering path we had travelled had us coming out back on to chasm Pitfall had been built on to, only a great deal further down. Peering upward from the tunnels edge I could just make out the lights of the Beacon Beetles in the distance above us. It looked like whatever the Green Sea was, it occupied the bottom of the settlement's eponymous pit.
Turning my attention below it was easy to see why they called it the Green Sea. With none of the aqueducts the settlement had built to control them, the rivers that intersected with the shaft became a cascade of waterfalls filling the floor of the expense like a great basin, and under the shallow depths of crystal clear water lay a uniform bed of vivid green.
Though if I felt like being persnickety, I might say calling it a sea was a touch grandiose, but I guess The Green Cistern just didn’t have as nice a ring to it.
Nevertheless, there was something about the peculiar hue of the green that niggled at me.
“Hey Boss, meet Old George.” She declared, waving an arm that encompassed the entire cavern floor.
It was then when I realised where I’d seen that very particular shade of green and my jaw went slack. Old George was a slime. A very, very BIG slime.