The river flowed down from some gigantic hills in the distance. We followed the line of trees that grew closest to the water. The rapids were loud enough to cover the noise I made as I crept through the woods. Vidari moved silently and Imber was actually a lot quieter than I expected. Even so, the elk’s perception was not to be trifled with and a few times it raised its head expecting an attack.

There was an outcrop of rocks not far from where the Elk was drinking and I managed to crouch behind it without alerting the prey to my presence. So far so good.

I watched as Vidari found a good vantage point to hurl her stones from and give the signal for us to attack. I wasn’t sure of where Imber had gotten to, but as long as Vidari could see him, the plan would still work well.

As I crouched behind the rock, I felt my heartbeat increasing. This was pretty fun. Looking around, I realised just how beautiful this world could be. The blue and yellow tinted sky, the wild green of leaves and grasses, the bubbling water… this was the stuff of dreams and here I was living it. I was living. The threat of imminent death seemed distant now. I still had unanswered questions and my fears about Riffy were still burning beneath the surface, but I couldn’t deny a sense of peace arising within me.

I breathed a sigh of relief and then inhaled… Yuck!

What the hell was that smell? It smelled like something had crawled up inside its own ass and died.

I felt something shift behind me and for the first time noticed that within the outcrop of rocks where I was hiding, there was an opening.

The opening was fairly small, just large enough for a single person to walk through at a time. It was dark and steep. It descended into the bowels of hell for all I knew. Bowels was the right word too. This place really stunk. The smell was getting worse.

That’s when a huge arm grabbed me by the hair and threw me down into the hole. I was so busy gasping at the rancid smell of decayed flesh and feces that I forgot to scream for help.

I don’t know whether Vidari or Katri would have followed me into a dark pit in the ground that smelled like death and taxes, but I felt like Imber and I were actually starting to get along. If I had screamed, maybe he would have come.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t dodge. I didn’t Ram Slam the fuck out of there while I could still see the exit.

Instead, I reflexively performed the technique I had been practicing all day. I formed the daggerish lump of brittle rust and prepared to stab whatever was attacking me.

I landed on cold, damp rock. The smell was suffocating and every sound echoed with the tinny sound of wet stone. Amidst the echoes of my laboured breathing, I heard a shuffle of movement and struck with my lumpy rust dagger. I hit something solid, but it sounded fleshy… not rocky.

Stat Increase: Brutality +1.

You used a hybrid attack.

New Skill unlocked: NULL’s Rust Blade.

You generated an entirely new Skill.

Stat Increase: Tinker +1.

You created a weapon from scratch.

Dungeon Discovered.

Gain: 50xp.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Whatever I had hit— Judging by the stench, I’m guessing it’s a zombie, but I don’t want to make assumptions— whatever it was, it wasn’t happy. It groaned with a sort of death rattle, angry bear, ripping paper kind of mishmash noise and then it hit me with some fleshy appendage that was heavy enough to be a mammoth’s trunk. It was pitch black in this dungeon, so I can’t be sure, but I think I was hit with a fleshy anvil. At least that’s what it felt like. My health went from completely full to about 10% remaining.

So I used the ancient technique of run the fuck away.

The following is a public service announcement, brought to you by NULL’s sense of regret. Here are a list of lessons to know before you go running in the dark inside a dungeon:

Lesson Number 1: When running in the dark, it’s easy to fall over.

Lesson Number 2: When running in the dark, it’s easy to go the wrong way.

Lesson Number 3: When running in the dark, inside a dungeon, DON’T! Don’t ever do it.

I ran the wrong way, fell over, and got lost in the dark. But don’t worry, I wasn’t panicking. I was too scared to panic. I was too god damn, mother fucking terrified to panic. Stop panicking! I was definitely going to die. Help! I needed to stay calm. AAAAAAGGGHHH!

Oh wait, I can use Basic Detect.

A vibrating blob appeared within my sensory range. It was some distance away, but moving in my direction. I’m guessing that’s the zombie thing that may not be a zombie.

I reached out and found the wall of the cave. It was damp and a little bit sticky. I rose to my feet and without letting go of the wall, I crept back in the direction I had come. As the possible zombie drew closer, I slowed to a crawl and held my breath. Maybe it can’t see me.

There was no chance to test that theory. If this thing hit me again with its flesh anvil of a fist, I would die. I needed to avoid and evade. My plan was simple. I would wait till It was close, then Basic Dodge my way around it before running back the way I came until I found the light that would lead me to the surface. Good plan. Stay calm, NULL.

The zombie?— Fuck it.

I had Basic Detected this thing, smelled it, touched it… Criteria fulfilled.

Name: Shan. Race: Undead. Class: Slacker. Lvl 4.

Monster. Carnivore. Violent. Reanimation. Foodie.

Undead are a race of reanimated corpses. This particular Undead was once an Orc named Shan. Slackers are commonly raised by necromancers and other cave dwellers to protect their lairs from intruders.

The Slacker’s feet slapped against the damp stone, echoing like murderous applause throughout the cave system. I could hear its ragged, gassy breathing grow louder as it drew closer. The stench of death invaded my lungs and threatened to choke me out. If you know the smell of death, then you understand. If you haven’t experienced it yet, you’re lucky and I will spare you the details…

The smell was traitorously sweet, like sour milk and rotten eggs. It scratched at the back of my throat with the dense wetness of a moist fog over an exposed sewage line. Sinister and tickling, it writhed like coiling maggots in a festering wound. It hung heavy in the air like matted, greasy hair, encasing me in a web of sinewy thread like bloated tendons bursting from a tumorous bulge amidst a pile of plague-ridden corpses in a sea of filth. But I’ll spare you the details because the monster was almost upon me.

The Slacker’s raw foot slapped the stone and I dodged around it. I had needed my Mana to dodge, but now that I was round the monster, I pumped the rest into Basic Restoration and felt my health climb back up. With my hand against the wall, I ran forward as fast as I dared. The tunnel slowly curved to the right and I followed it as patiently as I could. All the while, I was aware of the monotonous slapping of the Slacker hounding me in the darkness.

Finally, a glimmer of light appeared at the end of the tunnel and in my excitement, I Ram Slammed ahead.

As I whizzed through the air, realisation dawned on me. The glimmering light at the end of the tunnel wasn’t the bright spectrum of daylight, it was the dimly embral flickering of firelight. I had followed the wrong tunnel. Why the fuck did I Ram Slam? No Mana, No Stamina… No possible chance of surviving!

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