The ooze was proving remarkably hard to kill. Wearing armor made it nearly immune to the spectral dagger, and that meant Prissy was hesitant to take any ooze damage if she couldn’t just drain the life back into her. His Unsettling Aura didn’t work on it to begin with, but had worn off anyway, and random alchemical concoctions from the former oozomancer might damage it… or randomly make it stronger. Little bits of it that had split off were still alive and more than willing to try and kill them. The only effective weapon was the spectral dagger.

He inspected the purple ooze, and to his surprise found it was only level 5 instead of 10. The other five levels had been sneezed all over the cavern, and were now level 1 mini-monsters with only a handful of hit points each.

“Idea!” he called. “I’ll use your specials.”

“Me only decent weapon?”

“Correct. Keep the main thing off me. I’ll clear out the little ones.”

“Lemme… figure… out…”

“I got it,” he shouted, because he recognized a new icon in his vision, the purple dagger from the Spectral Blade card. Unfortunately when he pecked at the button, it now appeared to be a spectral beak. Which meant…

He flew up to the ceiling and pecked at one of the slimes, and murdered it by dealing 8 damage. The next one died after only 3 damage. And the next took two pecks, 3 damage, followed by 9.

There were dozens, which was good in a way, because every time he heard Prissy scream, the game notified him that the Spectral Blade was channeling his damage back to her. She managed to duck under its legs, only to have it shower her with acidic purple goo from its body. She screamed and came up running toward Corbin, who was almost done finishing off the little oozes.

“Cheese and rice this battle is ‘ard. Wot do I do na?” she asked.

He peered around, and settled on the other work table. It was full of unidentified alchemical components. The bookshelf also had a number of jars full of… preserved specimens. And, apparently, an angry pickle that bumped and jostled against the side of its own jar, trying to get out. A tiny face screamed at him from the middle of the pickle.

“The bookshelf!”

Prissy didn’t hesitate now. He was clearly the brains of the operation, which was amazing considering he had very little idea of who he was or what was going on here. They enticed the monster to follow them over to where the bookshelf was standing free on a flat area, probably blasted flat with some magic, or more likely melted flat by some of the oozomancer’s concoctions.

“Hit him with the jars!”

She went right for the one with the delicious eyeballs in it, of course. The preserving fluid splashed onto the ooze, and the pop up prompt exclaimed that the ooze had been dealt 36 damage, and slowed.

Apparently it was really slow, because it froze. Hissing steam came billowing out of the armor, which began to sag and deflate. Prissy watched this with interest, glancing back up to Corbin several times.

True Sight: the monster is about to make a special attack.

“Pris–” he started, but then the purple ooze exploded out of the armor’s neck hole in big ropy tentacles. Corbin took enough damage to kill him, but enough of that damage disappeared that he was left with 5 HP, and he was flung across the room, into the helmet he’d wrenched off the wizard to begin with.

You have equipped Helm of Reasonable Intelligence (mythic, rare). Your intelligence is not boosted, as you possess human level intelligence.

A backhanded compliment if ever there was one. “Well played,” he muttered to himself.

Across the room, the puddle of ooze was squashing its way over toward Prissy, who was cradling an ankle, either sprained or broken and it wouldn’t matter which right now. She started crab scuttling away, but the ooze darted a pseudopod forward and latched onto her boot. She was shrieking at the top of her lungs for him, like what was he going to do? Peck it to death?

Ugh, if she died here, all she’d lose was a bunch of her items. If what she’d told him was true, she’d respawn… somewhere. He didn’t know. He couldn’t very well blackmail her either, to give up the card. For now he still needed her.

Okay… he heaved up the Helm of Reasonable Intelligence and flapped for all he was worth, while the ooze extended another pair of pseudopods and grappled both of Prissy’s hands. With as much speed as a Strength of 5 gave him, he plopped the Helm of Reasonable Intelligence down into the puddle of ooze.

The thing froze, shuddered, and lifted the helmet. It retreated away from Priscilla, who immediately produced the spectral blade.

“Wait,” he said.

The purple goop brought the two pseudopods up to the area beneath the helmet, as though it was looking at itself for the first time. An air bubble appeared from within it, and when it came out from a poorly-shaped mouth, the sound it made was “Bloop!” Several more similar ‘bloop!’ sounds came out of it. It then retreated away from Priscilla and back over toward the armor. A few moments later it had spewed out a whole mass of loot, and filled the armor back in. The polished magic crystal in the center of its chest flashed.

“You… tried to kill us,” the armor crystal said. It peered around at the remains of all the tiny slime globs that were now dead tiny slime globs. A few were squishing and splorching their way toward the armor.

“To be fair you tried to kill us first,” Corbin said. When it cocked its new ‘head’, Priscilla translated… badly.

“You… freed us from the wizard. The pain wizard. The bad wizard. We… are freed.”

“What will you do now?”

It sat there for a long time, considering this below the helmet, before it stood and took a few tentative steps. A bit of it sloshed out of the suit’s neck hole, but it was quickly slurped back up.

“We will learn about this world.”

“You could travel with us,” Priscilla said.

“We think not. You attempted to murder us.”

“There’s this thing called forgiveness,” she countered.

“The world is full of concepts. Betrayal, for instance.”

“Harsh… but not tot’lly unfair.”

Corbin stared at the blob monster. He had so many questions at this moment. “So, uh, how did you pick up language so quickly?”

“I’m sorry but I must go. My brethren are scattered throughout the world, the prey to meat flesh soldiers. I must save them, teach them the ways of civilization.”

The helm cocked sideways, looking as if it might slip at any moment. Corbin could feel his chest tight with dread, though why he didn’t know.

“So, you are going off to save other slimes?”

“Yes. we will make a tribe. Then a city. Then a nation. And when our time is right, we shall make this world our own.”

Prissy gave a half-grin. “Wotcha. Less than an ‘our old and butcher’s at ya! Big plans, so much gumption. Go get ‘em tiger! World’s yer oyster.”

The purple goo headed out of the cavern on increasingly sure footing.

Quest Completed! – Clear the Forgotten Temple

The ooze infests this place no more.

Reward: 500 xp

Extra Reward: a random uncommon ability card

Corbin shook his head to clear it, even as a pile of loot plopped onto the floor, including three more cards, some human bones, and another pile of silver.

“Did we just, you know, create a Big Bad Evil Guy? I do not feel good about this at all.”

“Or girl. Nothin’ wrong wif it if Oozo there identifies as a girl.” Prissy laughed. “Serves ‘em right whoever ‘e meets. I’ve been stuck here for months and butchers at me! Dahhh in the bloomin’ dirt and killed so so often. It’s a right bit a luck I ran into ya. Yer the bloody first one to tell me how to run this system. Plus I don’t care… we done just got paid.”

Corbin hopped over and counted it… they were only a hundred shy of her goal now.

“You want to get out of here?” he asked.

She chuckled. “Naw, jes leveled up I did. Perfect health is upon me again.”

“Okay, let’s have a look at these cards then.”

He flipped them over with his beak and saw that all three were silvery uncommons, which was a little disappointing. They’d gotten a rare off a level 1 Fur Mound. Beginner’s luck maybe. But it was still better than nothing. From left to right, the first card showed an ornate pair of metal boots, strange ridges and runes rising out of it in spirals. Sabaton of Springing, it said in gold text crisply outlined by thick black. Cilla grabbed it and Corbin saw it go a gray translucent hue. “If’n I add it to my core, I can be a Ninja! Blimey!”

Corbin snatched it out of her hand, noting the wispy feel as he did so, as if it weren’t just half in this realm and half within one of her own.

“Best save that for your other slots. It isn’t a proper card and I can’t imagine it will give you much to work with. Did you get a feel for what it’ll give you if you don’t core it?” he asked.

“Jump. Lets me leap high or long at ten to thirty feet fer an associated mana cost, don’t it now?”

“Sounds like something that belongs in your regular deck. Plop it in there and for God’s sake don’t Core it!”

Priscilla nodded and they bent over the next one. This one featured a screaming cyclops. Berserker’s Bellow, the card declared. The two shared a look.

“Handsome bloke,” she giggled. She held it up, getting a feel for what it could give her. “Intimidation. Enemies retreat for one second.” She placed it back down and Corbin added it to his non core slots. It didn’t really seem like something he’d use much, but he could replace it later if he needed to.

They regarded the last one. A lanky robed man hunched over a desk, his hand flaring red and pushing onto a blade. Evoker’s Fiery Blade, the words above the picture noted. Priscilla grabbed it and felt it out. “Temporarily enchants an item of yer choice. Lasts five minutes. Seems pretty shite if ya ask me.”

Corbin shrugged. “Put it in one of your non-core slots. You’d be surprised how often a weak card can come in handy.”

“Likely that you’d know,” she sneered. “Why, I bin doing all the work this whole time, I has!”

Her stubbornness was beginning to grate on him. The enchantment card would turn her into a powerhouse, so long as she could stay hidden for the first few surprise strikes. Corbin shrugged again. It felt good to do such a human motion inside his avian frame. He reminded him that he was still himself.

“Fine, fine, wot you think? What do I use, eh?”

“The fiery enchantment is the best of them. A shadow walker needs to be sneaky and deal an overwhelming amount of damage before the target even knows you’re there. You need to dart in and jab jab jab.”

“Pfffft, like I din’t know tha’.”

She hadn’t.

“So the yell skill is only for emergencies, so you can get away. Maybe out of combat, use that boot for getting into places all sneaky-like, places you want to steal from. Or I’ll use the yell power and keep the focus on me.”

“Mebbe yer onto somethin’ there. You be the group tank, I sneak about in the periph, and then jab–”

“It’s periphery.”

“Oy, it’s like sitch. Like what’s the sitch, bra?”

“First, it’s situation, and second, that’s bro. I will tolerate the occasional bruh, but never bra. Did you teach children with that mouth?”

She snorted, and then threw back her head and laughed. The feline anatomy, however that gelled with being humanoid, gave her an utterly bizarre, yowling laugh he didn’t care for even a little bit.

“Not that we’ll be together long,” he said.

She finished laughing. “Oh yeah, course not. We go our separate ways all amenable-like.”

“Right.”

Right. The ooze had been correct: betrayal really was a concept.