Once again, Mel tried to be a voice of reason, and once again I brushed her off.

I wondered how exhausting it must be to be my friend. Like, to constantly see that I was running full-speed off a cliff and attempt to stand in my way, but just have to watch as I side step and go careening off the ledge ass first.

Her arguments didn't really make sense, anyway.

"You're not an adventurer anymore, Harps." Um, sorry Mel, but my character sheet said otherwise. I might have decided I wanted to be a chef, but my highest class was a level twenty three fighter.

"You don't have the right equipment." Didn't stop me from trying to be a chef. And anyway, I'd be fine. They were only rats.

"You have no idea how many rats there are." Right, but they were just rodents. It wasn't like I was picking a fight with something magical, or even a giant swarm. There sounded like a lot of the jerks, but I shouldn't be overwhelmed.

Hopefully.

Mel eventually stopped fighting with me. She called me a bunch of names and stormed out through the front door. Honestly, it was boring. I'd heard them so many times in the past few days. She was running out of new insults. And, if anything, I'd proven that my stupid ideas worked. Eventually. Or, sometimes, just in the short term. Until a new disaster happened.

Worse case scenario, I'd need to visit a medic. They'd likely be a bit expensive, because Mystic Falls was ridiculous for quite a few expenditures. But I wouldn't end up with some terrible deadly disease.

With that to boost my confidence and totally not make me regret this entire idea, I equipped my sword and shield and approached the cellar door.

I said a quick prayer to no one in particular, accepted my own quest, and then threw open the flimsy wooden door in the floor.

Nothing happened for a good long moment, and I thought I'd gotten off light. Perhaps there were really only a few creatures, and I'd be able to whittle them down on my terms. I'd clear out the cellar, complete the quest, get a bunch of useless experience towards my primary class, and feel good about yet another impulsive and reckless decision gone right.

The rats, however, had other ideas.

It started with a single squeak. A cry for help at the invading light that pierced into an eye adjusted to a certain dimness.

In response to that squeak, a few other voices chimed in their frustration.

And then more.

And more.

I was suddenly aware that I had absolutely no idea how many rats were down there. But it was a fucking lot.

After barely a second of hesitation I grabbed the cellar door and threw it back at the floor. If I could just... but it was too late. The tide of rats came, barreling against the door and throwing it (and me) aside as the creatures below decided to escape their eternal prison.

I was not prepared.

Some dead asshole once tortured people by cutting them slowly over and over, removing parts one at a time and drawing death out as long as possible. Death by a thousand cuts.

Boy howdy did it hurt.

Each rat only did about two damage, even though I wasn't wearing armor.

But every rat that was able to find skin did. Some leapt past me like a bunch of spastic dancers in fur suits. But those who landed a hit took a bite, and there were so many teeth.

"Harper!"

I almost didn't hear Mel's shriek, even though I could tell she was screaming. There were just so many rats drowning her out.

When had she come back? And did it really matter right now? I was wearing a suit made out of rats, and it was not only itchy, but very, very bite-y.

Itchy. Tasty.

I moved like a man wading through neck-deep water. I shook rats from my limbs as I brought my shield up to shove away the idiots that missed the first time. The good news was that, when I drug my sword through them, since there were so many in such small spaces, I did a lot of damage to a lot of rats. Dead bodies fell away from me and I was bombarded with notifications for a handful of kills.

Some of the rats were smart. When faced with a buckler that knocked them away, or a sword that cut them down, they turned and fled. Into Mel, who had a length of [Cut Timber] that she wielded like a club. Any that escaped towards the door either met a very gooey fate, or were kicked back into the room to try again.

Acting as a team, we were able to thin the rats' ranks. I sustained way fewer bites over the course of combat than I had in those first few seconds. Which was good, because that initial onslaught took me down under half health. And I was tired.

Within a minute of the first squeak, there was less than half the swarm of rats left. Within another minute, we were mopping up the last few. Some had fled back into the cellar, so I went in after them.

I noticed upon jumping in the hole that was once an entrance to the cellar that the stairs that led down were in serious disrepair. Like most stuff in this hellhole, they were misshapen and just barely functional. They were constructed from compacted dirt and stone, but the stone had mostly crumbled with age. Getting out of here was going to be a problem, but that was for Future!Harper to deal with. That asshole would just have to think on his feet.

The air down in the cellar was foul. Almost like a few dozen rats had been living and breeding and eating and shitting down here for who knows how long. Then there were the broken jars. And whatever was, or had been, inside them.

Someone, at some point in this building's sorted history, had fixed up this cellar real nice. It was lined with wooden shelves that spanned almost the length of the building. But some of the shelves had broken over time, rotted out from too much moisture in the air. When they broke, they threw their contents at the floor, which caused many of the ceramic jars to burst upon impact.

I could clearly smell vinegar, so some of the contents were likely pickled.

There was also very clearly the scent of old eggs, but they were hardly the worst scent in this pit.

"Everything okay down there, Harps?"

"It fucking reeks," I choked out, before grabbing the front of my shirt and drawing it over my nose and mouth.

"No shit," she said, unhelpfully. "Can you see the rats or do you need me to get a light?"

"Don't bother." I looked around the space through eyes that wouldn't stop watering. "Pretty sure the air down here is flammable."

"I think you mean inflammable."

I squinted up at the floor above me and entertained the idea of taking a stab at her with the sword. I'd risk breaking it, but it would feel really good just to try.

"Remind me to hate you for that later," I said, instead. Mel didn't say anything in response, but her laughter was crystal clear as it floated down the stairs.

I hunted the rats down one by one. The quest, helpfully, told me how many there were left, once I got within the last five. Don't know how the system knew when I didn't, but that was part of the mystery. Or whatever.

When the last rat died, the quest completed, and I nearly collapsed right there.

The Grapes of Rat - Complete! Fighter experience points gained, 300! You're so close to your next level - keep going, mighty hero!

"Fucking finally," I shouted as I dismissed the well-meaning but highly sarcastic feeling notification.

"You're done?"

"Yeah, c'mon down."

Mel hopped down the hole much the same as I did, and together we explored the cellar. There honestly wasn't much of anything to be found, though. A few casks of something that might have been liquor were our biggest find, although the barrels were pretty battered by time and elements. There was also a sack of flour and another of salt that were both mostly intact. I'd be cooking both ingredients, so I couldn't see throwing out so much material just because it might have been sneezed on by a rat.

Other than a few mystery containers of things that might have been pickled on purpose (but most likely weren't), there wasn't anything else cool to find down here. No stock of priceless smoked meat, or sarcophagus of some ancient king filled with gold and gems.

Just a stinky cellar that now had rat blood everywhere.

Getting out of the cellar was a problem. I instantly regretted letting Past!Harper brush the issue off to me.

Had Mel not jumped down, we might have been able to set up some sort of system to get me up without using the stairs. Even if I had to climb up the length of [Cut Timber] that she used as a rat smasher.

I started laughing. And not just laughing. These were big, air gulping gasps of laughter.

The whole thing was just so fucked. Every aspect of it. No matter what I tried, things just kept getting worse. But somehow inexplicably better? At least it felt good to progress on my own terms, after years of being stuck in a stagnant grind.

Mel didn't share my laughter. She looked at me as if I were a bit touched in the head, and honestly, I likely was. It didn't stop me from gasping in the foul air of the cellar we were trapped in and belting it back out as laughter.

"So what's your plan for this, Harps?" Mel asked after I'd gotten myself sort of back under control.

I shrugged in response, which was apparently the wrong answer, since I got smacked upside the head.

"Think again, asshole."

Another giggle of laughter bubbled out of me, but I got myself under control before it became another guffaw. "Alright, um..." I trailed off and looked closer at the stairs. Some of the treads were wider than others, but they were all in various states of ruin. Some were barely structures, while others were little more than loose gravel lumped into a stair-shaped pile.

"Okay, so. Calling for help is pretty out of the question," I said, with another short giggle. "Even if someone was around, it would likely be Duncan who would use it as an excuse to cart me off home. Or maybe Phelps who would charge me seven gold to hand me a rope."

"Right," Mel said patiently. "So what do we do?"

"I can boost you." I turned and cleared some amount of the floor around the opening with my shield. I knelt down and put my hands out on my knee, using the joint to brace my arms. "Hop up."

"This seems reckless."

"I don't think we have many other options. Once you're up, just grab a bit of wood and help me up." I glared at her. "I would prefer one without rat guts on it, though."

Mel smiled and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Darn. There goes my master plan to get back at you for once again doing something stupid that gets us in trouble."

She stepped into my cupped hands and I focused on helping her out the hole. It wasn't the easiest, but Mel was at least pretty tall.. in... this...

"Why didn't you just turn into a pixie and fly out of here?"

"Um..."

"Mel."

"Don't give me that tone, Harper. I forgot!" The weight on my arms was instantly gone as she burst into a puff of light and flew away.

"How did you forget? You are literally a pixie!"

Mel didn't respond, but instead helped me out of the hole. I admitted I was feeling pretty salty about it, but the fresh air was kind of wonderful. "I'm sorry, Harper," she said after I stopped gasping for air. "I've... I've been spending a lot of time in this form. And when I do, well, I forget about my origins."

Her tone was so lost and hurt that it immediately tugged on my heart strings. I turned to try to comfort her, but she was grinning.

"Also, it was hilarious to make you kneel in rat shit to lift me out of there."

"I hate you so much, Mel."

"Love you too, Harps!"