Ambrose had never trained with weapons, he had done martial arts during his youth, but didn’t think that punching a bunch of strange monsters would be great for his overall health.
He needed to get stronger and find a method of combat that worked for him, though with the options of dagger, that would have to wait. That left actually improving his Small Blades Skill, higher levels would grant a better understanding of how to wield the weapon. That made it time to grind some levels.
Ambrose began to Skulk through the valley, searching for some Loobins, the last one had gone down easily enough, so Ambrose figured he might be able to get rid of a small group if necessary, though wouldn’t push his luck unless he didn’t have another choice, at least not yet.
It wasn’t long before he was able to find a small enough group of five, and began stalking them. He had to wait for two hours for the opportunity to take one on solo. He Skulked up behind it, and plunged his dagger into its core, its body collapsed under its own weight, the core letting out a wheeze of air and blue smoke as the body deflated slightly, acting as a fleshy whoopie cushion.
Surprisingly, the creature hadn’t yet died, but without its core animating it and controlling the blood, it was as if it were just a puppet with its strings cut, just laying there limply as Ambrose watched it slowly die, his face a mix of confusion and horrified curiosity.
With the creature dead, he butchered and skinned it, focusing on improving his handling of the knife to properly cut through flesh and skin, which in turn improved his harvesting capability for future meat sacks.
Other than some minor Skill improvements, Ambrose felt like that hadn’t been worth it. Two hours of waiting for a single low level kill provided no combat experience. Discarding his previous caution, Ambrose decided to take the remainder of the group on at once. He only needed a single clean hit on the core to disable a Loobin, he believed that if he focused solely on those kill shots and defending, it should boost his overall gains with his Small Blades Skill, enough to make up for the time wasted waiting around.
His plan was lacking, basically, Skulk in and take out one by piercing its core, then see what happens while trying to kill the other three, and of course, not dying in the process. It was entirely possible that they would just scatter, as they had with the Wolfspider, forcing Ambrose to either chase down his quarry or abandon them for another, either way would be a loss in time and energy, reducing his gains for the day. Seeing as he was limited on the time he could waste doing nothing in the dungeon, lest he fail his quest and be banished, he had managed to talk himself into believing it to be a near necessary move.
He waited for several minutes more, slowly approaching the ever oblivious Loobins, waiting for an opportune moment. This time he wanted them to be grouped close together rather than separated so they were less likely to just run for it. As grouped up was their normal state he didn’t need to wait long, and with a quiet but deep breath, and a resolute nod to himself, Ambrose burst into motion.
As he had discovered earlier, the Loobins didn’t have a regular bone structure, allowing him to pierce his first, and closest target, straight through the back and directly into its core.
The other three turned at the gurgling and expulsion of gas and screamed. As they didn’t immediately flee, Ambrose grabbed hold of the limp body in front of him, leaning his left shoulder into it to prop the body up, holding it as if it were a tower shield. In the moment he did this, three sharpened tongues launched into their still dying brethren. Body no longer powered by mana, or whatever energy the core pumped through its veins, provided little resistance, each of the tongues piercing deep into the flesh. The closest of the three managed to get lucky, going straight through the temporary meat shield, and out the other side, managing to push slightly into Ambrose’s shoulder.
A pained grunt escaped his lips, he shoved his Loobin forward and down to the ground. Tongue still stuck in the body, the closest Lobbin was pulled towards the ground to follow, it's now trapped inside, and under the body. The remaining two had recovered from their strikes and began to move closer, planning to make a second attempt on Ambrose’s life.
Ambrose prepared himself, holding for a moment. When the two tongues launched at him, he too launched. Diving away from the tongues, and over the perhaps dead Loobin, Ambrose landed atop the second. Unable to retract its tongue, with it stuck out at an odd angle, and trapped under its friend, Ambrose wasn’t in much danger from it, but wanted the creature dead, to ensure it didn’t recover and manage to launch a sneak attack on him. The two struggled as Ambrose pierced its side with his dagger.
The flailing had thrown off his aim, stopping the blow from being lethal. Ambrose rolled off the Loobin and scrambled to get back to his feet. Turning towards his other two opponents, Ambrose saw only a flash of movement, attempting to dodge back reactively.
Reactions too slow, Ambrose avoided one blow but the second appendage lanced into his side. Immediately, he began to feel queasy as the Loobin quickly sucked all the blood from the local area. Ditching his plan to only go for lethal blows, Ambrose swung his blade across the tongue, failing to slice it off as a near arterial spray of mixed blood spewed out.
Having seen the Loobin’s lack of retraction strength, the bloodied Ambrose yanked back on the tongue pulling the Loobin into him. It panicked and racked its claws along Ambrose’s chest, tearing a series of holes in his shirt and leaving shallow wounds to match. Dagger pierced into the creature's chest, the blow weaker than the others, but managing to pierce the core.
Not having the strength in his arm to keep a second walking shield in place, Ambrose allowed the Loobin to collapse to the ground. The final unharmed Loobin began to flee, having seen two of its pack mates fatally wounded in front of it, and a third still struggling to get free.
Holding his wounded side, Ambrose approached the damaged Loobin, which was only now managing to roll its former companion off of its tongue. Not allowing it to recover, Ambrose lifted his right leg, and kicked down, shoving the creature's face into the dirt. Dropping his knees onto its back, Ambrose panted from pain and exertion, took his dagger in both hands and pierced it down into the core.
Pulling the dagger out once more, Ambrose looked towards the fleeing Loobin, he considered throwing the dagger but he couldn’t decide which of the two identical Loobins to throw it at and thought better of it.
As he dropped to the ground, Ambrosed slowly pulled out his bag, fumbling around until he was able to find his bandages. Once he had managed to wrap his side and chest, all that remained was his shoulder wound, though it remained shallow.
By defeating the group, Ambrose had gained a level, receiving a second wind. He added a point into his Speed of Soul, Strength of Body, and Speed of Mind, making sure that he wouldn’t run into a rebalance issue again. As he had hoped, he felt another small burst of energy, his Strength of Body increase patched up his more minor wounds, and seemingly, replenished some lost blood, though Ambrose wasn’t sure if that was just the lack of blood talking.
Ambrose threw up as the adrenalin faded, only to be replaced by paralysing anxiety, falling into a foetal position as the numerous ways he could have just died, repeated themselves into his head over and over again.
Once the nausea had passed, and he was able to stand again, Ambrose began to practise his harvesting Skills once more, attempting to distract himself.
His Butchery Skill had risen in level, and seemed to give him a good enough understanding of what parts of the Loobin were edible. As one could safely assume, the Loobins were here to supply both creatures and Residents with an easy source of meat, making almost all of the creature edible. The only part his Skill told him should be avoided, was the core and the large veins in each of the creature’s limbs, which included its tongue.
Carefully approaching the forest, Ambrose gathered some remnant twigs and branches, and began his attempt to create a fire once back in the valley proper.
Ambrose was unsure whether it had been two, or three hours before he had succeeded in his fire making. Once he had though, the Skill he had gained from the task was more than happy to point out his errors.
Before he could burn the meat he collected, Ambrose was drawn to attention as the small amount of ambient noise vanished from the area. Colour began to drain from the sky, grass, and fire in front of Ambrose as his senses screamed danger and discomfort at him. Across the fire a mote of pure darkness seemed to form, stretching and growing as it sucked in the colour and sound. Ambrose tried to run, but found himself frozen in place, not out of fear, though that was aplenty, but out of some external effect.
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Locked in his body, Ambrose watched on in horror as the sentient black hole formed. Once fully formed, the black hole spoke. Its speech was a horrific mixture of grating, but oddly muffled sounds, as if thousands of people were yelling and smashing things in a nearby room.
G͖̠͕̱̎͂ͫ̎Ŗ̴̪͈̬͕̰͎̬̘̘͑̅ͤ̒̓̄ͭE̜̗̦͍̜̹̜̍̉ͯͬ͠ͅÊ̳̩̼̬̂̀͑̕͜T̟̰̼̱͚̯̽̾̆̃̾͛̚Ị̸̴̪̥̰ͬͯ̄Ǹ̷̼̩̖͔̗̫̤͙̲͆̒̉̀͟Ĝ̹̬̘̩̥̰̘̼͋̑͂ͮ̕͞S̝͓̎ͥ
Gͥ̃̑̾ͩ̋̈́ͣ̚҉̷̭͚̱̪I̴̪̮ͫͦ̎̓ͪ͞F̷̢̫͖̥̙̞̦͈̤̆ͭ͒̋ͫͧ̿͠T̵̝͉̯͈̪͙͙̤͕͑̃̀̿͆͒̀
An object floated out from the centre of the hole, through the fire, and landed within Ambrose’s lap.
G̸̷͕̟̟̩̲̪̋͐̑̔R̶̖̥̲̲̟͚̐̈́ͫ̃̋͑̒Ơ̢̯̭̩̣̟͎̖͛ͮ̋̔͗W̳̘̙͖̙̬̓͂͐͐̑̒̏̀
With the final word reaching his ears, Ambrose could feel the pressure surrounding his body leave, and no longer felt like he needed to flee.
“Arhgble” Unable to properly form words yet, he was unable to question the entity as it released the colour on the area and shrunk back out of existence. Though as all returned to normal, a notification filled his vision, answering at least some of his pending questions.
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FEAT MANIFESTED
You have done something worthy of recognition in the eyes, assuming it has any, of Those Beyond, an entity of immense power from beyond this world. Those Beyond watch over this reality and many others, enjoying the struggles of lesser beings. You have seemingly done something of interest to them, and they have rewarded you. By surviving such an encounter, you have manifested a new Feat!
Eldritch Observer: You have witnessed a being beyond your comprehension and lived to tell the tale.
* Resistance to the effects of beings from outer realities.
* Resistance to emotional damage. It is hard to damage a broken mind.
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Ambrose prepared himself for the inevitable panic attack that any normal person should experience when encountering an eldritch being, let alone someone who had not only experienced one several hours ago, but multiple in the last twenty four hours they had spent on this world.
Oddly, as he caught his breath, laying in the grass and listening to the slight, ever present breeze that rippled through the dungeon, the panic never came. He had nearly died to a group of creatures that were designed, almost exclusively, to be a fresh meat supply for the creatures and Residents of the dungeon, an experience that had left him shaken to his core. Facing down a creature, beyond understanding, should have been far worse, but he was simply curious, almost excited.
He read the notification a second time, the anxiety that would have previously filled his body was gone, replaced by wonder and curiosity. ‘Emotional damage’ was a phrase that he had seen several times now, his Speech and Rebel Skills both mentioned it. Ambrose had looked over it, not particularly caring for the Skills at the time, but with hope and a grin, he sought answers.
“Prism. What is emotional damage?”
“Emotional damage is damage directly dealt to one’s emotional state, with the aim of increasing, decreasing, or otherwise changing a given emotion, such as fear, anger, or bravery. This allows for the manipulation of creatures in many different ways. There are even people who fight exclusively through the use of emotional damage such as nobles or merchants.”
“If you are wondering why your new feat gives you resistance to such damage, it is a simple answer. Without it, you would kill yourself. Mortals simply cannot handle witnessing the form of an eldritch being, your memories would have already replaced what you saw, with something more rational, as your broken mind repairs itself the only way it can. By lying.”
Ambrose went over the event in his head, clearly remembering witnessing the black hole creature, which yes, was scary, but would never cause someone to kill themselves.
His eyes widened in realisation. Ha! So that black hole IS the simplification of its form.
“Thanks Prism, I would really be lost without your help.”
“You are most welcome, Ambrose.” The orb let out a small happy chime as it continued to hover beside the dungeon’s sole Resident. To think that he has already encountered an eldritch being, the Sponsored truly are something. I must find a way to thank his god for sending him to me. The last one has almost killed me, this one might actually save me, though as long as he doesn’t make things worse, we will hold out for a few more years yet if he fails.
“Loot Time!”
Ambrose looked at the item that he had been sitting in his lap for the last few minutes.
“Eh?”
The item looked as if someone had run over a small, multi coloured, cartoon cat. Its tail was straight and four tiny paws split off from the main body, a large smiling face was then attached at the top, though it lacked any form of neck.
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Cat Iron Pan (Unique, Bound)
A strange gift from Those Beyond to the Sponsored Ambrose Edward Rogers.
The Cat Iron Pan is crafted in a world far from Eramen, and infused with the spirit of a wandering, immortal, catlike entity. The spirit inside may decide to go for a wander from time to time, but will always be back in time for meals.
Durability: Indestructible.
Special Properties: Bound (This item can only be used by the person it was initially gifted to), Sentient (This item contains a spirit with its own free will, treat it well and hopefully it will treat you kind), Shifting (This item can change shape to suit the situation, as it pleases), Returning (This item will always return to you, eventually), Cat (It has the personality and traits of a friendly cat).
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Ambrose put the pan onto the grass.
“Uh hi there? I was just looking to cook some meat, is that okay?”
The pan’s legs stretched out and the whole thing rolled over.
“Maow.”
The pan, now in the shape of a regular cat, sat looking at Ambrose expectantly. It was mostly black in this form with a scattering of brown and orange mixed throughout.
“Haha, never miss meal time. A regular cat then. Well, there’s plenty of it, so eat up and then I’ll cook mine if that’s okay? It would be a big improvement over the stick method I was gonna use.”
Ambrose sat by the fire for several minutes as he stroked his pan, as it ate a pile of cut up Loobin meat.
“I would call you Peter if it wasn’t my uncle’s name. You okay with Pandemonium? Pan for short of course.”
There was no complaint, and as Pan finished his meal, he let out a happy meow, and jumped onto the fire, curling up to sleep as it returned to its usable form. This time the pan was in the shape of a curled up cat, though the tail still stuck out, so there was a handle available.
After finishing his basic meal of meat, with a side of meat. Ambrose cleaned up and prepared to go after another group of Loobins, he had plenty to improve from his last fight and was pretty sure he would have a far clearer mind thanks to his actually useful feat.
It was as Ambrose was preparing to move in on the second group that he had found, that Prism chimed in. “Ambrose, I would like to remind you that you are in a potential breach of dungeon rules. And that breaking rules could lead to both your demise, and my own. I can also not warn you a second time, so please learn from it quickly”
Checking over each of the rules, he didn’t immediately spot the issue, until his mind put together the fact that he had just gained a level. Following his hunch, he assessed one of the Loobins he was currently hunting.
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Loobin (Dungeon), Lesser Level
One of several ‘prey’ creatures within the dungeon, ‘The Gaol of Neterin’, they use their long prehensile tongues to gather nutrients from the earth, or the bone marrow from bones left behind by other creatures.
* Strength of Body: Lower
* Speed of Body: Approximate
* Strength of Mind: Lower
* Speed of Mind: Lower
* Strength of Soul: Lower
* Speed of Soul: Lower
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“Right, they're lower level than me now, meaning if I kill them, I need to use their materials. And seeing as I can’t actually make leather out of their skin right now, Pan and I would need to consume the entire group to avoid judgement. Real quick, do I specifically have to use all the materials, or do I just need to make sure they aren’t wasted.”
Prism took a moment to think before answering. “I am not sure what you are planning, but if you harvest each of the creatures you kill, and a majority of the materials are not wasted, you will not break a rule. It is worth noting that if something were to decay outside the confines of the dungeon, it would still be considered a violation.”
While that removed his idea of covertly discarding the meat outside the dungeon, or just leaving it for the various dungeon creatures, Ambrose still was confident that he would be able to hunt Loobins yet.
Still wanting to hunt before heading back to town for the night, Ambrose decided to leave the Loobins alone, not wanting to risk the dungeon's wrath, without knowing if his plans would work.
Ambrose ventured further into the valley, searching for a plant that he could make some thread out of, as well as a new creature to hunt.
He was beginning to get tired after all and thought that he could take a break and wind down for the evening, by trying out the only profession he had access to, before he would head to the tavern to inquire about the validity of his plan.