"Right now I'm just delighted to be alive and to have had a nice long bath."

~Richard Branson

POV - TAD

I was so looking forward to getting clean. It had been an age ago that I had walked into the bathhouse back in Humanity’s Level 1. With a frown I remembered that I had never gotten to have a shower there. And that would be absolute luxury compared to the cold dip I was anticipating so fiercely now.

The riverbank was well overgrown. The slightly clearer area we were aiming for had a series of old piers reaching out like the stubs of orphan teeth in a nearly toothless maw. I fired off an [Inspect]. It was an old wharf. 98% destroyed. Pulling up my Solo interface I discovered it would cost 245000 Gold to repair the [Jetty]. Okay, that's a lot. And well down the priority list. In fact, I actually had no idea how to get Gold. Hopefully, there were financial rewards for defeating normal foes or delving dungeons.

I stripped off down to my undies. Luckily these had the [Self Cleaning] buff and, as a bonus, the buff also kept my nethers sparkly as well. Heh, my junk and butt was the cleanest part of me. I was super pleased I had spent the time shopping for these.

Strangely enough my nervousness about the river had disappeared now that it was me taking a dip. It was completely illogical. Dozer was down with me and keeping watch underwater. Scrabble was on overwatch. Leaving the backpack, gear, boots and socks up on the shore, I placed my clothes up on the pier once I had rinsed them out after giving them a good scrubbing with handfuls of gravel. Hey ho, washing day. I could feel the kits’ attention. My body was quite different to theirs and up until now had been well concealed by my clothing.

~Auntie skinny.~

~Looks tasty.~

Ahh. Well, that was more than slightly concerning coming from these most definite carnivorous predators. I wasn't sure whether they were communicating privately and hadn’t meant me to ‘hear’.

~Too skinny but~

~Feed more clams?~

No. There was a hint of underlying mirth in that last question from Dozer. They were rarking me up, the little terrors. I flexed, hamming it up. I had a significantly more buff bod than my previous sickly one. In fact I was quite proud of my new shape even though it was all through no effort on my own part. The kits’ had some more highly personal commentary on my shape. I guess being in a society where clothes were not even an option meant body image was much less of a thing.

My foolish flexing came to an abrupt end.

~Alarm-Alert-Out-Fast-Now.~

Dozer’s instruction was unmistakable. I didn’t hesitate. I was waist deep in the water. I threw myself forward with desperate haste, abandoning my clothes and making for my pack and weapons.

Holy. Crap. My Stats were boosted. We were being attacked by something at least a Tier higher and more than 30 Levels on me. This was bad. But at least I was forewarned by my Pesky award.

I didn’t reach my weapons.

Something grabbed me by the foot and whipped me backwards violently. I had time for one last breath and then I was underwater. This was not good.

I had visions of being grabbed by a crocodile or whatever version of this ambush predator the System had provided. The grip on me was surprisingly toothless. I was most thankful. I contorted my body round to try and grapple with my captor. It was a thick fleshy limb that had wrapped itself firmly around my ankle. And as soon as I touched it, it flexed and sent me into a spin. A deathroll. It took all my concentration not to release all my air in a burst of bubbles. And I was getting dizzy fast. I triggered my Gallifreudian Perk, slowing my subjective time. That would help me conserve my air and give me more time to regain my bearings. The spin reduced to a more relaxed rotation. The limb had inched its way up my leg and was now a lot thicker. It was getting closer to mini me. I ruthlessly suppressed my incipient need to panic. I scabbled uselessly at it. It was one solid muscle. My fingers were ineffective. I tracked it back to try and identify my attacker.

It was a tongue. A tongue?

I was being eaten. By a giant clam. It was massive. At least the size of a car. And the tongue was massive too. As fat as my thigh at the tip it thickened rapidly until it was at least my height in diameter. Was this some sort of negative Karma? I fired off an [Identify].

CREATURE:

Aquatic

SPECIES:

Yellow Lipped Clam [Senior Patroller] [Furious]

LVL:

??

HP:

Unknown.

Estimate 19220min to 26520max

I didn't have the time or inclination to read up about the description. No, I had other priorities. Like not being lunch. Dozer and Scrabble were swimming alongside me with lithe grace. This was most reassuring. And any thoughts I had of them being cute and cuddly little critters was completely dispelled as I caught sight of their faces locked in battle snarl. In fact they were on a par in size with me and these were fearsome predators, totally at home in their environment.

And Scrabble had grabbed Mr Stabby and Mr Slicey. Clever girl. She made darting attacks on the exposed tongue. Ha, take that.

And it did.

It shrugged them off.

I flexed my Perk. Leaning into it. I had slowed down my subjective time. I now concentrated on expanding it. On enveloping this dastardly clam. It was propelling itself using water jets and achieving a very respectable speed. I didn’t know clams could do that. The Ottos were faster, but not by much. Abruptly the clam slowed. I had succeeded. The kits shot ahead as the jets lost a great deal of power. They doubled back and renewed their attack on the tongue of doom. And the difference in time compression was fantastic. Dozer boarded the slowly retracting tongue and clamped on with all four paws digging in while she bit furiously at it. Scrabble was making use of the extra Agility from Mr Slicey and slicing furiously. Each stab from Mr Stabby was inflicting a bleed effect but because she was stabbing and withdrawing it only lasted a few seconds. But each of those seconds was drawn out even more as my perk drew out time.

I flexed my Soul. It was intuitive. My Spade of Penetration was part of me. I could feel it, leaning up against my pack. I needed it. Now. I called it.

And it came.

Rushing through Soul space my SoP materialised in my hand. Excellent. As I raised it above my head my Perk ended. The clam was clearly unwilling to swallow an active aggressive meal and I was clearly not a limp biscuit just yet. I brought it down on the edge of the shell in a violent stabbing motion, triggering [Penetrating Blow] at the same time.

And the shell came off second best.

I had shattered the edge and the spade wedged itself in the shell. This was too much for the clam. It had had enough. It released its grip on me and withdrew its tongue. This was most fortuitous. I was well and truly at the end of my air and spots were dancing in my eyes. I was getting notifications every few seconds that I was losing HP from drowning and that my iAPD was kicking in replenishing them nearly as fast as I was losing them. Drowning would be a very slow way to die. And so would be being digested whole I reflected. I was very glad the clam was more particular about eating live food. Or maybe it was more, live aggressive food. Yes. If I had been unconscious or dizzy and unresponsive then I’m sure it would have been straightway swallowed whole.

I planted my feet on the shell and pushed up for the surface. Thankfully we weren’t that deep. As I took a lovely breath of fresh clean air, Dozer grabbed my spine and slammed it into the top of the shell she was riding.

Say what?

It was most disconcerting. I shivered uncontrollably as her paws went places they never should. My spine was closely connected to my soul. I hadn’t realised how closely bound the spade was. This was weird as frissions shook me to the core. Note to self; I would need to be careful who I let use my spade. And preferably keep it to just me, thanks.

The clam dived for the riverbed and started burrowing. Dozer was up on top getting a good rhythm up. I shivered in time. Freaky stuff. She broke through. Levering up a fragment of the shattered shell, Scrabble scrambled inside and went hell for leather dicing and slicing. Dozer followed her, tooth and claw. I trod water and caught my breath. It was good to have my spine back. I summoned it from where Dozer had dropped it. It was comforting to simply hold it. I was completely shattered from my sudden dunking.

In due course the victory notification came through.

Two grinning toothsome heads bobbed up beside me. They were very pleased with themselves.

~Happyhappyhappy.~

~Us legends.~

~Lots of food.~

A bit of side eye at me. Both kits were somewhat nervous. I realised that I had suddenly been introduced to their more fearsome side and though they had previously been joking, it had rattled me, and they were picking up on my unease.

~Sorry Auntie.~

~Family not food.~

I had flashbacks to 'Finding Nemo'. Good old Bruce the Shark. 'Fish are friends not food.' I still felt a little like that little octopus though and inking myself. I pulled myself together. I knew they had been joking me. It was just they were predators and I was most clearly not.

~Denial.~

~Auntie strong.~

~Clevertoo.~

Okay. I took a deep breath. Let’s loot this critter and get back to shore and go through our notifications. I had a number that had dinged away at me and I could see that the kits looked to had levelled up again. Hmmm, maybe even twice.

~Hard job.~

~Big-far-lots.~

~Sad face.~

Oh, the kits were mourning the loss of all the food from our victory. And they were right. The clam was way too big and heavy to drag back to the shore.

Luckily I had something better up my sleeve. Well, I would have if I had sleeves. Wait 'til the kits see what I pull out of my… uhhh, underpants? Okay so my anticipation in surprising them was getting sort of sidetracked but they both picked up on my glee.

I dived down. Touching the edge of our defeated foe I [Looted] its sorry shell. Hah. It dematerialised into a sizeable stack of steaks, two damaged shells and a pearl the size of a basketball. Oh, I didn’t know clams made pearls. I thought that was oysters? Grabbing one of the steaks I made my way to the surface and tiredly started side paddling back to shore.

That was significantly a more exciting bath than I had anticipated. Right now I was just delighted to be alive.

At least I was clean though.

The kits spent the next hour and an half ferrying our haul back to land.

And we would need to make several trips back to base with all this.

I was worn out. The adrenalin rush was well and truly over and I just needed to sit down and regain my breath and composure.

Gathering up my clothes I spread them out to dry.

I had just started to go through the battle notifications when I felt eyes on me.

They were curious, hungry and getting more impatient by the second.

I blew my whistle.

One quick sharp toot.

I paused and then blew one long and one short note. Hopefully the kits could hear this even if they were below water.

This felt like the rellies.

Yes, it was time for a family reunion. And it could potentially get somewhat fractious.

I hurried into my still slightly damp clothes, making sure both my daggers and spade were close to hand, but not actually holding them. That felt both a bit too defensive and at the same time too confrontational to have in hand no matter how much I wished to.

I felt like I was lining up to meet the mother in law.

Scary stuff.

Yes, I would definitely feel better holding my spade.

Perhaps that wouldn't hurt? I mean a spade is hardly a weapon. Its just a tool really.

For digging and stuff.

Yes. I would hold my spade, I decided.

Just casually lean on it. Ha, I'm cool. Calm and collected too. I dropped into a light [Advanced Meditation]. It wouldn't do for these empaths to pick up on my discomfit.

Anyway, how bad could it be?

And often the anticipation is worse than the event.

I had this.

Hopefully.