|Chapter 10|
~.-.-Food; The Best Motivator-.-.~
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“Sapience, Emergence and Sophonce - The Extent of Thought and Self-Awareness... It is often thought that the only beings from which true sapience has emerged are those of the Humanoids (Descendants of the progenureor genus) and “Enlightened Beings”. But this isn’t entirely true, even if these groups do make up the large majority of all known sophonts. In fact, there are numerous ‘outliers’ of equal, if not greater sophonce than even the most intellectually advanced races in just the modern day alone. From such immensely powerful beings as the ‘Sanguine Wyrm’ and ‘The Amarok of Deosolurbs’; To entire species such as Greater-Basilisks, Nymphs, Devil-Spawn and most all types of dragons. Sophont beings are all around us, and yet when we witness a being even remotely display signs of intelligence; We panic. But to be fair, for as unwarranted as it may be, some of the most dangerous creatures are those which hold grudges. As well as the intellect and means to act upon such ‘nefarious’ motivations... - Leutherr Huchington, an accomplished Ethologist and Philosopher renown for his work throughout the continent.”
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Nuki - POV -
THUNK!
Collapsing from an all but lethal combination of mana exhaustion and mental strain; My seemingly lifeless body plummeted into the hard, pleasantly chilled ground. Heaving, I willed myself up; But failed miserably. A futile venture. The risky endeavor ended with my head succumbing to gravity; Plunging straight down into the--quite literally--rock solid floor. Sapped of what little strength that had once coursed my body; I laid sprawled about the fine-grained slab of stone which is the floor.
‘You know... I feel like I deserve at the very least a few moments of pure, unadulterated peace...’
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The Next Morning -
Roused in joint effort between the incessant bustle of passerby above, and my bellowing stomach; I begrudgingly sat up, sluggishly rubbing my still wary, deeply sunken eyes. ‘Oh how I miss the crooning of songbirds and the soothing trill of white-bellied warblers in the morning.’. But unfortunately, it would seem that the many ruffians and strays infesting Turpiloco had gotten to the last of them; For not even a lone nest was left unmolested in this godforsaken town. Meandering through the cellar in an awkward, drunken shuffle, I managed to stagger up the stairwell; All while laden by pangs of unrelenting hunger. I wasn’t feeling particularly picky at the moment. Hell, even Tetershrooms sounded good right about now. ‘Ugh...’. Grumbling, my stomach continued to viciously snarl as it slowly began to consume me.
Nearing the old, rusted latch of the cellar door; I gingerly released my grating grasp from the worn, decrepit masonry. Confident that I wouldn’t unwittingly tumble back down the stairwell, I reached out and forcibly pried open the hatches’ hinged, incredibly rusty pair of flaps. Carefully pulling myself out of the cellar and away from its stale, stifling atmosphere; I relatched the cellar door behind me, before swiftly making haste towards the dining area.
Weaving through the copious amounts of riffraff scattered about the halls; I managed to sustain a reasonably brisk pace against the onslaught of rabble. Squeezing through the last, yet unfortunately placed pocket of idiots; I at last strolled on into Miss Sweetie’s kitchen. Ignoring the chorus of jeering, banter and clanging utensils, I made my way to the hulking women. Standing there, hunched, was the burly innkeeper, stirring an aromatic pot of some kin-WAIT SLIME!?
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“Miss Sweetie, what is the SLIME doing in the kitchen with you!?”
“Ah! Sugar-plum~ Me and ma lil-helper are preparing some Iron-Tusk stew~ She's such a sweet
darling now ain't she?~ Following me ‘round like a baby chick~”
Confused, I glanced down at the pastel blue blob. It was currently in the midst of attempting to roll a stalk of Calor Chard towards the simmering pot. Albeit clumsily and without a shred of foresight, as it proceeded to bash into the leg of an old table, momentarily hampering its struggles. Witnessing this bizarre, yet truly astounding scene; I couldn’t help but be dumbfounded, even despite the comical results. Flabbergasted, my mouth hung wide open; Frozen so, as I continued to marvel at the puzzling spectacle.
“Now-now dear~ No need to go ‘round catching flies~ Next batch is almost ready! Much better than some grubs or insects! Now I’d kno...”
Rooted to place in half parts shock and utter bewilderment; I continued to gawk at the abnormal slime. Tuning out the plethora of gnarly tales of survival now spewing out of the reminiscing ex-mercenary; I began to seriously take into consideration the slime’s astonishing intellect.
‘It was, frankly, unsettling... Frightening even...’. Never before had I heard of--much less witnessed--one of the most inept and spatially unaware creatures in all known existence, do THAT! In stark contrast to every tamed beast I’ve ever seen, from timber wolves to rocs; None of them could do a task unrelated to battle, or with the simplest of instructions and procedures. Most of them wouldn’t even do it unless they were given food or mana in advance; With the promise of more thereafter.
“Miss Sweetie... May I inquire as to HOW it knows to do that, and WHY it's even doing so in the first place?”
Glaring at the pulsating mound of muscle, I'm unsure as to whether or not I should be mildly disappointed or greatly impressed by the fact that she had even dared to let it off of its manatether; To help her COOK, of all things.
“Ah! Yes-yes! She was with me last night preparing the bouillon and broth for this morning!~” Glancing to the side, she grabs the now fleeing chard from rolling off the edge of the table; Before patting and praising the now vibrating blue ball despite its unfortunate mishap. But to be fair, it did move the burgundy-hued vegetable from the pantry, across the kitchen floor, and up the table, somehow; So maybe it was warranted. Finished pampering the slime, she continued, “She must have seen me using the ingredients to make food and tried helping by rolling things towards me~ Took a few tries and a poor plate, pity it's soul; But now she can fetch me a select few vegetables if I tell ‘er to!~”
Still mildly confused, I watched on as she knelt in front of the now bobbing slime, and repeated the word ‘onion’ a few times similar to a mantra; Before the diligent, energetic blue blob of unbridled determination, all but sprung towards the open pantry. Hitting the cold, tiled floor with an audible splat!, it momentarily stilled, before once more making haste towards its objective. Arriving in front of its target, it began leaping--clumsily--from rickety shelf to rickety shelf; Before eventually reaching the top most platform. Snagging perhaps the single most bruised onion of the bunch; It proceeded to carelessly slink off the ledge, again producing a resounding splat! upon impact with the chilled floor.
Stunned, I stood in near palpable silence as the devoted blue slime awkwardly shuffled back to Miss Sweetie. Depositing the pungent and, presumably festering, bulb in front of her; It looked forward. ‘Cooing’ as it emitted an aura similar to that of an expectant pet seeking its owner's praise.
‘Of the Primordial Deities...’