Dismemberment was every bit as horrific in this world as Sean remembered from the worst of his military days. Baerlin screamed in pain, but to the lizardkin’s credit he made sure to do it into his shoulder to muffle the sound. Daerkin rushed to his companion’s side and Sean was just about to tear off some of his cloak to use as a tourniquet, when Saren rushed forward. Bright yellow light covered the owlen’s feathered hand and the slime warrior got his first-ever glimpse at real magical healing.

The dark tunnel lit up as if bathed in the morning sun, and the blood pouring out of Baerlin’s leg rushed back into it. To Sean’s surprise, the limb didn’t immediately regrow itself. There was no movie special effects-style sudden regeneration. The open wound simply closed, with no further fanfare. The flaring light in the cavern dimmed back down to nothing as relief washed over Baerlin’s gruff face and he sagged in Daerkin’s arms.

Saren slowly shook his hand out, and Sean caught a flicker of frustration cross the owlen’s face as he frowned. It looked like the paladin was irritated with himself, though Sean couldn’t have said why. When the owlen began speaking quietly to the pair, the slime warrior asked if Gel could hear what was being said.

“Yep. The paladin is all but dried up. Sounds like he couldn’t fix the leg himself even if he had more, they’ll have to get back to Dervash for that, but…” Gel paused, listening in on more of the conversation as Sean just stood there. “Bird-boy says he could still fix one or two more injuries like that, depending on how bad they are. That’s it, though.”

“Do you think he could–” Sean started, but the slime cut him off.

“No, he can’t fix your arm. Life mana can’t heal the undead. It’s fundamentally incapable of it.” Gel explained, answering Sean’s question before he could finish it. “Death creatures need death mana, some kind of magic, or an ability or potion utilizing it in order to recover from injury.”

“Oh.” Sean said, a bit letdown. He was relieved the lizardkin was alright of course, he didn’t want any of their charges dying, but he couldn’t deny being a little bit jealous that Baerlin’s wounds could be dealt with so quickly. It sounded like even regrowing his lost leg would be a simple matter, provided the lizardkin made it out of these tunnels.

Whereas Sean couldn’t even recover his HP without evolving. At least for now. Maybe if we can figure out how to trade with their city that will change. Or get the right ingredients to cook with…

Sean resolved to get back to the campfire for that very reason as soon as time allowed. For now though, he had work to do. He did a quick check for more ants, and once his pulse sense reported nothing incoming, the slime warrior left his charges to their business and headed into the supplies room.

Most of the actual weapons and armor they found weren’t worth mentioning. On close examination most of the weapons were broken, chipped in more than one place, or had cracked handles. At least half were also partially melted in one place or another, and the armor they found was even worse off. So, after setting a few of the more interesting ones off to the side for himself, Sean had Gel let the others know they were free to arm themselves with whatever they liked.

The small crowd of what looked like increasingly malnourished survivors all but rushed the pile after Gel relayed the message, and even Baerlin hobbled over. While they went about it, Sean turned towards the boxes he had been interested in earlier. None were locked, and to his delight the contents of each were completely different.

A few handfuls of semi-precious jewels next to some inkwells, fresh paper, and quills, several stacked rolls of dyed cloth that looked nearly as fine as silk, and an entire chest’s worth of unrecognizable, shattered glass figurines. Sean was particularly interested in the potential trade value of the first, Gel immediately claimed the second, and Saren seemed particularly upset over the last, though the owlen didn’t explain why. The lizardkin and fox-folk seemed happy just to finally have some weaponry in hand, with the former grabbing axes and the latter dubiously picking out a pair of half-melted small blades.

The fox-folk’s nearly sour expressions when they gave their looted blades a few test swings gave Sean an idea.

“Gel, you don’t have to reabsorb your weapons, right? They’ll last if you just leave them out?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I’m betting your dagger would fit them well enough.” Sean answered, gesturing at the two fuzzy humanoids that he only now remembered were called ‘Fennekians’. The pair gave him a wary look, clearly unsure what his gesture had meant. “Would be nice to have some armed allies in the fight. Might buy us some goodwill.”

“Hmmm.” Gel considered the idea, then sent back the mental equivalent of a shrug. “Sure. Not a bad idea, they can’t stab us with them. If they tried I’d just reabsorb it and then we’d get to figure out what their fur tastes like.”

“You would.” Sean corrected, just to be perfectly clear. “Do you have enough mass?”

“More than I’ve ever had.” Gel announced proudly. “These ants are fantastic. Juicy and tender on the inside, with useful shells for making things on the outside… and they never stop coming! I hope we get to eat the whole colony. Now wait just a second, I’ll let them know what we’re doing.”

Gel’s voice sounded in the small room again, and the furry duo glanced at each other, shrugged, and then nodded. They made a series of short gestures Sean didn’t understand, and then the pair bowed slightly in Sean’s direction.

“What was that about?” Sean asked, as the slime quickly created and then tossed a pair of clear daggers over to them. The fennekians caught the weapons easily in their off-hand, then switched the clear daggers to their main hand keeping a weapon in each. They inclined their heads towards him again, and then walked to the entrance of the supply room presumably to keep watch.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“No idea. I can’t read whatever that was.” Gel answered, and Sean caught both the lizardkin and the owlen staring openly at their exchange. He couldn’t quite read their expressions, but he hoped the gesture had had its intended effect. “Respectful little morsels though, aren’t they? We should eat them last.”

“Uh-huh. Now, why do you want bundles of cloth?” Sean asked his friend, changing the subject partially to prevent Gel from making a list of who to eat first, and partially because he was actually curious about the answer. The slime had some strong opinions about fashion, and Sean needed to make sure this wasn’t going to end up with Gel insisting he start modeling the slime’s idea of the ‘hottest trends’. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure cloth like that is valuable and all. But how are we going to get it out of here?”

“Don’t you worry, all shall be revealed in due time.” Gel said in a mysterious tone that made Sean feel like his guess had been right on the money. “As for how we’re getting it out of here, I have a solution for that. Let’s go pull the spines off that big one we just killed. If what I’m thinking of works – which it will – then we’re going to need most of them.”

“What are we making?” Sean asked, as he walked over to begin removing the pieces Gel had asked for. He would need the slime to saw them off, but that shouldn’t take too long. “Some kind of sled?”

“Better.” Gel said. “I’m making a carry.”

—------------------------

It took about thirty minutes to properly construct what Gel was envisioning. They used parts from the soldier ant’s chitinous plating, about half of the spines from its back, wooden boards from a half-melted crate they had found at the back of the room, and a copious amount of Gel’s mass on his ‘anchor’ ability to hold everything together. Sean was both pleased and surprised to find that his friend’s ability worked even better than SuperMax Glue back home. All of it held more tightly together than if he had used screws and a drill.

When it was all said and done, the slime warrior had to admit. This ‘carry’ was certainly a thing of functional beauty. He only had one, small complaint.

“It’s a backpack.” Sean pointed out, even as he and Gel slid his arms through the armored construction and hefted it onto his back.

“It’s a carry.” Gel insisted. “And it’s fancy. This is what the peasants used sometimes to carry wood around, only better because I made it.”

“And because we can keep our satchel in it without worrying about the ants’ acid ruining all our stuff?”

“Exactly. There’s even a flap for me to reach in and grab things!” Gel said excitedly, showing off that feature for at least the fourth time already. “Everything we need is right here, safe and snuggled up on your back! It’s a pity we can’t keep everything in your chest.”

“There’s not enough room in there for much besides you.” Sean agreed, testing his weight and the fit of their new ‘carry’. Doesn’t look like it’ll get in the way or give me any splinters. Bone body for the win!

The slime warrior walked over to the few decent weapons he had stashed off to the side earlier: a black warhammer, a steel axe with some kind of etchings on the blade, and a spear that looked like it had been hewn from the same silver trees he had seen back in the forest. He was a little surprised that none of their group had taken them already. The only things left of the ants’ pile were the scraps nobody could use. He picked all three up, bundling them under his arm, and walked back over to where the lizardkin and owlen were talking.

Those three are clearly the leaders. Sean noted. He was glad to see that Bernard was apparently not among them. Maybe the old man’s early faux pas in insulting him hadn’t instilled a whole lot of confidence amongst the rest. Bernard was still carrying that Karson kid though, and several of the humans they had rescued remained weaponless. Seeing how scared those ones looked made his decision easy.

The strange trio of humanoid-ish races watched Sean approach, straightening up as he did. When he got to within a few feet of him Sean noticed the gold spire paladin begin to feel the same unease that Sean felt around him, but the slime warrior pushed that inner revulsion down. He looked first at them, then the weapons in his arm, then at the men and women who were still unarmed. He tossed the three armaments down at their feet.

“Tell them they can have these, but I want them back before they leave.” Sean said, but Gel was already on it.

All three looked surprised at the reaction, but Saren was the first to incline his head in respect. Both lizardkin did the same, and Baerlin reached down for one of the weapons before realizing at the last second that he no longer had both of his legs. Daerkin caught him before he fell, and Saren reached down to retrieve the weapons and distribute them.

“Now tell them that I have a plan to get us all out of here alive, and I’m going to need them to trust me and do their part in it if they want to survive.” Sean said, staring down and making eye contact with each of the living creatures before him while Gel translated his message.

“Even the one who can barely walk?” Gel asked when he was done, the slime’s tone curious.

“Even him.”

When he got a round of nods and expectant looks, Sean motioned for the rest of their little crowd that had scattered across the room in small groups to huddle up around him. He got a few puzzled looks and some shrugs, but nonetheless they one and all came over at Saren’s nod. Sean knew that was key. There may be a little resistance to what he was proposing, and he wanted the ‘authority’ these people recognized on his side. It would also help communication flow if they were going to have to play ‘Telephone’ translator to get his message across. He only wanted to have to say this once.

“Alright now, listen up.” Sean said in his most authoritative tone to his friend, hoping the slime would carry the message the same way. He almost clapped his hands together to emphasize the ‘start’ here before realizing he only had control over the one. Gel tapped his battle axe on the stone floor to ensure everyone was paying attention, and Sean felt a surge of camaraderie well up in him. It was good to have a friend who was on the same page.

The old man frowned in contempt at the sound, but the ones who had been paying attention to Sean’s actions up to this point leaned ever so slightly forward. One of them even called the fennekian guards over, who came at a sure and swift jog despite their obvious internal injuries. Undead monster or not, after seeing him take down that soldier ant, they were interested in what their ‘savior’ had to say. Sean only hoped they would remain that way, and that Gel wouldn’t inadvertently ruin the mood by revealing the slime’s plans to roast several of the less-eager ones over an open Bernard.

Sean hadn’t yet asked about the specifics of how that recipe might actually play out. He was low-key hoping it never would.

When everyone was within earshot and paying attention, Sean began to explain his plan. Before he had even gotten two sentences in, Gel began to laugh.

“I want you to know, I love this plan.” The slime said as horror dawned on at least half of the group’s faces. “I love it so much.”

“I figured you would.”