The man-shaped snail regained his bearings. Somehow. The not-snail-sized snail lost that bearing and slid down the slide and thwacked his face against the cold floor. But no injuries! Somehow.
This time a light granted him vision. On the walls and rocky spikes on the ceiling hung lit lanterns that gave warmth in the cold embrace of the copper-colored cave. It was easier to see his lightly tanned skin and the amount of grime mixed with his brown shoulder-length hair.
“I did it!” he exclaimed with glee. “I found the cave!”
He rose to his feet and his sword found itself in his hands. Merrily he skipped and swung his arms to the beat of his steps, singing a wordless tune past the dead big rats and goblins.
Most of the rats were nothing more than a ball of wet fur and splattered blood, but the green-skinned goblins had more noticeable wounds. Bullet wounds, one in each and as wide as a person’s arm. They were clean holes from front to back.
“They must have been killed by the bird! I’m close!”
The easy gait turned into a full sprint as he reached for the end so close.
Bang.
The same loud crack echoed deeper into the cavern and reinvigorated Katan further. His blood would be boiling if his body had the nutrients to allow it. After so long, he had the chance to slay the beast. No potion or spell could match the rush the mere thought gave him.
“Jubjub! Jubjub! I’ll kill you!” he yelled over and over and again and again. His voice was as loud as the booming gunshots ahead of him.
His feet ran through the carcasses and his head avoided (most) of the hanging lanterns and spikes. The first and last layer of the cave had a single right turn that he turned as the hulking golem turned the last living giant rat into paint.
It stood there unmoving, a smoking pistol in its right hand in place of its pack of burning branches. Its dark grey body was more visible with real light shining on it—rough, terribly so, but a single pure color.
Red stained its white and black clothes and brown firearms and holster. Eyes violated its form as Katan approached the rocky giant. His eyes squinted at it even when he was but one foot away, brows raised.
“Are you Jubjub?”
The golem turned around, slowly. Really slowly. A minute later and it was face to face with the snail.
“No,” it responded no faster.
“Oh.”
Katan straightened his posture and looked up at the golem. His neck was close to a ninety-degree angle just to meet its abyssal eyes.
“Are you a bird?”
“No.”
“Oh.” He scratched his head. “Where’s the bird?”
“No bird.”
“Oh.”
Occasional droplets of blood were all that cut through the silence.
“I’m Katan!” he exclaimed, the enthusiasm returning to replace the confusion and disappointment. His arm was outstretched with the widest smile plastered on his face. “I haven’t seen a golem before!”
The golem stared rocks at the hand. It reached its own arm out and the difference in size made for a rocky handshake. “I saw.”
“You saw?”
“Your name. Katan.”
“Nice to meet you!” He tried to shake his hand but the golem’s grip, while not crushing, proved to be a boulder to move.
“You were dying,” it said.
“Yes! The great Jubjub was eating me!”
“No Jubjub here,” it paused,”are you snail?”
“Yes! How did you know? You’re a genius!”
“Snails hate birds. Hate Jubjub. But nothing here. Only rats.”
Katan looked around. “Huh. Guess you’re right… But what’s your name? You must be a really strong adventurer to get this far into the cave!”
“Malon. This is easy cave.”
“You’re so strong that this is easy for you…? Wow, none of the adventurer manuals mentioned your name before! I’ll send a complaint to the guild!”
It said no words in response, instead letting go of Katan and taking heavy silent steps away from him.
“Wait, wait!” Katan chased after it. “Can I follow you? You must have a cool party too! My mom said every adventurer has a party!”
“No party. Alone.”
“Someone like you?! That’s impossible!” he bumped into the corner as he followed Malon. “I know! What if I party with you?!”
They reached the slide and climbed the gentle ascent. “Yes.”
“Yes?” Katan repeated, eyes wide.
“Yes.”
At the top, it brought out the lit branches as it navigated towards the exit with Katan following him, tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe it! The brave adventurers I asked yesterday just looked at me like I was being silly!” He tripped but Malon didn’t stop. He ran after it. “Of course, I would never blame an adventurer! I’m new, so I get it!”
Sunlight began to seep into his retinas as the sole hole made itself whole in front of their eyes. Black turned dark and dark to grey and grey to colors. They basked under the sun once more.
Ten paces from the cave were short wooden fences and a plethora of small buildings, from inns to taverns to smiths to shoemakers. The Rookie Village of the South, the prime settlement for beginner adventurers. Within those fences were adventurers and travelers alike sharing a drink, a meal, a story or gear.
A forest once populated the area around the small hill where the Cave of Beginnings resided, but upon the discovery of its poor difficulty, the woods were deforested and turned into a sizable business. Whether new or experienced, Rookie Village was a home for all.
“Oh, see! That one, with the huge bucket on his head! That’s the B-rank adventurer Bucket and was Top 8 in the ‘Top Adventurers to Camp With’ magazine! He rejected me and it was so cool!”
Malon did not entertain Katan and his ramblings as they entered the village. No one paid them any mind as it trekked to a building longer than it was tall. It was made of light-colored wood and large letters spelled ‘The Champion’s Chair’ on its sloped roof. The snail, now an official companion, followed it like a tail.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
A few adventurers moved out of the way as it hunched through the small doors and entered the cozy insides of The Champion’s Chair. It was dimmer than outside but had just enough lanterns to make it feel homey. Humans and dwarves and elves and cats and dogs alike sat on the wooden benches with drinks in hands (and paws) and roasted meat on platters, laughter and chatter in the air like pollen in spring.
The golem avoided those seats and sat in the far corner with a smaller table and two stools. It sat on one and Katan in the other.
“Turn,” it said.
“What?”
“Turn into snail.”
“Oh, sure!”
Katan started screaming like a banshee in a voice two octaves deeper than normal. His hair grew longer and his spine shorter. His posture went from straight to bent to shrimp to spiral. Every adventurer stopped their talk and focused only on the snapping bones and guttural screams that came from the contorting man. Smaller and smaller and smaller, his clothes shrinking with it. Malon watched it all unfold unmoving while the rest of the tavern whispered to one another about the snail experiencing hell.
Then his voice returned to the proper pitch and a normal volume, the beast-like scream turning into a, “yaaay!”
There stood Katan on the table, an actual snail. He was a few centimeters short of an inch. The slug part of him was porcelain while the shell was a brown of the same shade as his human form’s hair. He wore a small snail-sized gambeson and had as happy an expression a snail could have.
The sword he carried with him did not share the same size-adapting properties as his clothes and was so large that he was invisible under its sheathed blade, yet his antennae carried it like it was weightless.
“Slow,” the golem said, attracting the eyes of the silent adventurers. “Morph too slow.”
“Aw,” the snail replied, his antennae hung low.
“Hold on!” yelled an adventurer from the crowd. It was a brown four-legged beast colloquially known as a ‘dog’. “What’s a snail doing this far south?” The crowd murmured in agreement.
“Never seen a snail before! That’s cool,” one said.
“Thought they were all farmers? What’s it doing in an adventuring town?” another mused.
“Some of our Z-ranks were farmers too, to be fair.”
“Aye, farmer evolutions are nuts. But a snail?”
“Only snail adventurer I remember was way back in the Shell era.”
Malon scrutinized the adventurers. Too much attention.
Katan cried at the adventurers. So much attention.
It wasn’t long until everyone returned to their normal states, talks of booze and treasure instead of snails. The basalt exhaled an imaginary puff of smoke. “Again. Slow. Morph faster.”
“I’m sorry.” He sat on the scabbard of his sword now. “I’ll do my best though! I think we can morph faster at level six!”
“Level screen. Show.”
He nodded with enthusiasm and a miniature blue screen appeared in front of him. Then he snapped his slimy antennae and the screen flipped around and grew larger to fit Malon’s vision.
Name
Katan Tanwa
Ancestry
Snail
Level
1
Class
Ranger
Attributes
Attributes
Strength
2
Perception
3
Dexterity
3
Toughness
1 (+0)
Willpower
3
Magic
0
Skills
Skills
Bladed
3
Throwing
0
Hand Casting
0
Bow
2
Crossbow
0
Handgun
0
Turret
0
Improvised
0
Unarmed
1
Exotic
0
“What.”
“I trained really hard to get my bladed skill so high! I’ll be a great companion!”
“What.”
Malon shook its head. “Low. So low. Perk screen. Show.”
He obliged with a wide smile and again he snapped.
Perks
Ancestral Perks
Morph (Active) - Morph between a natural form and anthropomorphic form.
Shell (Passive) - In your snail form, gain +10% of your maximum Toughness.
Class Perks
Snipe (Active) - Double the range, speed, and damage of your next shot. 20 Energy.
“What.”
“Mhm!” He was as jolly as ever. “I don’t have a lot of perks yet, but I’ll definitely level up soon! I won’t hold you down!”
It swiped the screen away. “Low numbers. How.” Its voice would be fluctuating in pitch were it capable of doing so. It rested its elbow on the table and its face in its hand as its eyes closed in contemplation.
“Hey, it’s okay!” Katan crawled a teeny weeny tiny bit closer to his new idol. “I’m weak now but I’m sure I’ll get even stronger soon! Especially with you helping me!”
It opened an eye through its large fingers. “With my help.”
“Yes! Someone as strong and experienced and kind as you! I’ll do my best to be a good party member!”
“Kind.”
He nodded his micro slug head.
Malon’s other eye opened as its head turned towards the rest of the tavern. Towards the parties and groups that formed there, the companions each of them had. The experiences they shared and would share. The adventures and the tales that they forged together.
Then he looked at Katan’s stupid face.
“All right.”