The morning was bright, the sun shining clear from a sky free of clouds. In the daylight the Blue Slime team house looked almost cheery—that is, as long as you could put the state of the interior out of your mind.

"Hm. Do you know, in the light of morning it doesn't look all that bad. There's a certain air of wretchedness but it has its own shabby charm." Praetorian glanced to his right, where Amanda stood with her arms crossed. "Don't you agree?"

"Whatever. Is all that your stuff?"

There was a large travelling trunk on the street, surrounded by near a dozen smaller cases.

"Ah, yes. Aside from that small blue chest, which I believe belongs to our Mist."

Amanda picked up Mist's chest.

"Good luck with yours," she said, shambling towards the front door.

Inside, the skylight had been given a wipe, letting the sun stream in ... although this mostly just illuminated the immense amount of dust that had been stirred up by Mist's early morning efforts. The valkyrie was out of her armour and in her casual clothes, an unflattering undyed tunic and trousers, but she had a cheery blue scarf tied around her face.

"Oh!" she said, voice muffled by the scarf. "Amanda! Is that my chest? Thank you so much for bringing it in—um, I guess just put it down somewhere, we haven't cleared the bedrooms yet so ... well, just anywhere is fine. Are you hungry? Gakk is cooking!"

Amanda set down Mist's chest and looked through into the kitchen. There was a large stove against one wall and a preparation area in the middle of the room, surprisingly well-equipped, and past all that a long table with chairs around, nestled in an alcove that would have been sunny if the windows weren't encrusted with filth. Tzugakk was at the stove, busily fussing around with pans and bowls, but he looked up at Amanda and gave her a small smile and a shy wave, which she awkwardly returned before looking back at Mist.

"Can I help with tidying?" she said. "It looks like you've done a lot already."

"Oh, no, not so much, I just like cleaning so I've been having fun, and the kitchen was almost clear already. Um, but you can probably do some lifting? Moving stuff outside, all of this broken furniture. Nala's out sorting through it, apparently there are some components and things that are useful ... well anyway, um, maybe start with that room?"

While Amanda lugged table fragments towards the back door, Praetorian came in from the front, dragging his travelling trunk.

"Ah yes," he said, dropping the trunk and raising a quantity of dust. "I'd forgotten how dreadful the interior was. Which is to be my room?"

"Whichever one you clear out," Amanda muttered, as she pulled the broken wood out into the back garden—which was, aside from the piles of wrecked furniture and the dirty old broken fountain, surprisingly clear. It was mostly bare earth with a few clumpy patches of grass and weeds, but it was a far cry from the wild state of the front garden. Nala was off to one side frowning at something, but she took the time to glance at Amanda and nod her towards a pile of wood.

"Hello! I'm helping!"

Amanda threw the broken table onto the pile before looking around at the slime. It had noticeably grown, the top of its blobby teardrop shape reaching almost to Amanda's waist.

"...hello," Amanda said. The slime bobbed up and down a bit, possibly happy, then slithered off inside. Several seconds later there was a yelp followed by a heavy impact.

"Out!" came the necromancer's cry. "Out from underfoot and out of my sight—Mist, control this beast of yours."

"She's not mine! And you should watch where you're going, it wasn't her fault you tripped!"

"It darted beneath my feet as I was walking, what could I have done? What are you doing—is it staring at me? Where—no. No! Don't touch—Valkyrie, get it away from my trunk! That is genuine Auldvynian leather, do you know how ridiculously many bats gave their lives for its construction? I do not want it oozed upon—get away!"

"Praetorian! Don't kick her!"

Amanda shambled in to see Praetorian standing with one foot in the air, his trousers and pointy shoe dripping slime. Nearby Mist stood with her hands on her hips, while the slime cowered in a corner.

"Yes," Praetorian muttered, shaking his foot in a weak attempt to unslime it. "Splendid advice as it turns out, our slime doesn't appear to be particularly solid. The ones back home were at least superbly kickable. Wonderful, the one positive quality I'd previously associated with slimes and ours doesn't possess it." He glanced at Amanda as she walked near. "And you can just about wipe that smirk off—ugh—"

"Whoops," Amanda said, as with typical undead clumsiness she jostled Praetorian and sent him sprawling. "Still getting used to this leg, I think you sewed it on too tight."

"Shove me over if you must," Praetorian said, as he stood once more. "Call me names, cast your death glares upon me, act the insolent newly-risen cadaver, but do not insult my needlework. Do not ever do that."

Amanda rolled her dull eyes and went to get another bit of broken furniture—but she was stopped by a soft clearing-of-throat. Everyone turned to look at Tzugakk, and he shrank back a little before speaking:

"Breakfast is ready. If you're hungry, yes."

The table in the kitchen was easily big enough to accommodate everyone; Nala and Tzugakk sat on a bench seat against the wide windows, Mist on the other side with Amanda beside her, Praetorian occupying a stool at the head of the table. From somewhere Tzugakk had found a red and white chequered tablecloth, thin and faded but cheery enough, and aside from the plates of mushroom omelettes and gingered dandelion greens there was a small vase with a selection of bright yellow flowers. All in all the dining area of the house was one of its more pleasant features, and even Praetorian only grumbled a little as he settled on his stool and dug a fork into his omelette.

"Happy days, I suppose," he muttered, before popping the morsel into his mouth, chewing ... and freezing. He made a small noise, then pushed himself off his stool and to his feet, staring straight at Tzugakk. The little goblin flinched at the necromancer's piercing gaze.

"Tzugakk," Praetorian said. "This mushroom omelette..."

Around the table there was a tense silence, Mist in particular frozen in place, her first forkful halfway to her mouth, wide eyes on Praetorian as he continued:

"...has been cooked to perfection."

With an extravagant bow Praetorian proffered his appreciation to Tzugakk, who smiled down at his hands. Mist stared for a second longer, then hurriedly tried her own forkful.

"Oh my gosh!" she mumbled. "It's really good!"

"Did you doubt my taste?" Praetorian said, back on his stool and investigating the greens. "Mm, and the side dish is a perfect complement—Tzugakk, I believe this may even rival our beloved Blue Haven's fare!"

Tzugakk gave a happy shrug and ate a little of his own portion, while Amanda tried hers and made a small neutral sound. Meanwhile Nala was calmly working her way through her meal, nothing but the slightest of nods to indicate her approval.

"Do you know," Praetorian said, when he was halfway through, "I do believe that if young Slythaneile had only sampled Tzugakk's cooking we'd still have him in our team."

Which was entirely successful in bringing the mood back down. Losing Sly meant losing their primary means of offence. Praetorian remained staveless, neither Nala nor Mist were particularly effective with their weapons, the slime had no attack and as a glumgirl Amanda was restricted from even equipping a weapon. Which only left—

"Tzugakk," Nala said, her voice low. "He will be at the centre of our strategies."

"Aha, yes," Praetorian said. "Then we rely on him not only for the delicious repast he provides, but also for his alchemical skills. I'd raise a glass if I had one handy."

"Is that okay, though?" Mist asked. She had already finished eating, knife and fork neatly placed upon her empty plate. "He's only got one demerit left, if he gets defeated—"

"Tzugakk has almost enough merits to cancel a demerit," Nala said. "In our first tournament battle, it will be his mixtures that win our victory. As well as the team merits we will earn, he will also receive combat merits for the kills."

"Do you have a plan, then?" Mist asked.

"No. I don't know who we will face. Until the brackets are set I cannot plan. Until then we spend no merits."

"So, um ... so can we win?"

"In a standard match against ShimmerClaw, Behemoth, Death Rattle, Proudfoot or Knives, no."

"Um, but—"

"Not with that," Nala said, her narrow grey eyes on the blue slime. It was currently oozing around the kitchen, perhaps hunting for loose scraps. "Our monster is our greatest disadvantage."

"What of the other teams?" Praetorian asked. "Would we stand better odds against them?"

"Against SilverStar we would have a small chance of victory. Fighting Succubi would be best."

"Well, that's something to hope for at least. Go up against Succubi, slightly less chance of total annihilation."

"I, um ... I like Arbie, though," Mist said. "And the others seem okay..."

She trailed off and stared down at her plate. In her pocket was something she'd been trying not to think about, something she'd been putting off telling the others about, a small square of innocent card...

"Well, anyway," she said. "We'd better get on with cleaning—this place really needs it! I'm sure once we've got it looking good we'll all feel better about everything. Um, thank you for the delicious breakfast, Tzugakk! Let's all help tidy up the kitchen then start clearing out some rooms, I think if we work hard we can get at least this lower level cleared out before lunchtime!"

Mist's prediction turned out to be overly optimistic. After a hasty lunch of Tzugakk's GreenWeed soup (which tasted approximately seven hundred times better than it sounded) the team surveyed the results of the morning's work and found it wanting.

"Have we even made a dent?" Praetorian said. "Where does all of this rubbish come from—do you know, I wouldn't be surprised if this entire house was under the influence of a garbage elemental."

"Are they a thing?" Mist asked, wide-eyed.

"I have no idea. If they do then I'm sure we'd be the ones they inflicted themselves upon."

"We might be making more progress if you put as much effort into cleaning as you do into complaining," Amanda said. Praetorian gave her a glassy smile.

"We might be making more progress if that ceased its attempts to 'help'."

The slime perked up at this.

"I'm ... helping?" it said.

"Yes, of course you are," Mist said, although her soft voice was dissolved by Praetorian's acidic tone:

"Well now let's see, so far you've managed to trip me no less than a dozen times, disintegrate what little carpet remained in the rooms we've cleared, and coat quite literally everything in a thin but loathsome layer of ooze. Would we consider that helpful? Hm? Would we?"

"She's TRYING, Praetorian!" Mist said. "She was really useful in the garden—"

"So send it out there—"

"Her!"

"SO SEND HER-BLOODY-HER OUT THERE."

"SHE WANTS TO BE IN HERE WITH US!"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT SHE WANTS!"

"What a shock," Amanda muttered, loud enough to catch Praetorian's attention.

"Oh yes," he said, turning on her. "Come on, bequeath us with your beloved snark, gift to us the pleasure of your sarcasm—"

"Would you just shut up?" Amanda said. "Could you just shut up, is it even possible for you?"

Praetorian took a hard breath, then swept his cape as he stalked away—

"I shall be upstairs claiming my room, what you people do I cannot bring myself to care about—and keep that thing downstairs!"

"I'll keep her away from everything to do with you!" Mist squeaked after him, before covering her mouth. "Was that too mean?"

"For him?" Amanda said. "I don't think that's possible."

"And one more thing!" Praetorian did another sweep of his cape as he turned back. "Make sure that rat of a slime does not so much as go near my trunks—"

"Rat?" Mist's hands were clenched into trembling fists. "RAT? There's only one rat here and I am looking right at him!"

"Ah!" Praetorian cried. "I correct myself, rats can at least be kicked away, rats have the decency to live in the walls and under floorboards and out of sight! That thing is worse than a rat!"

With that and a final sweep Praetorian made for the stairs, almost tripping over Nala.

"Oh now WHERE did you come from, must you always be so cursedly sneaky? You're worse than the blasted monster!"

Nala held up a card, grey with green edging.

"Summer Rain is worried."

"How very surprising!" Praetorian cried. "Worried? In this place? ABOUT POSSIBLY WHAT?"

"Ugh, just calm down," Amanda muttered. "Do you have to overreact to everything?"

"Perhaps consider it compensation for your dearthly lack of emotion, even for a zombie you're dull—"

"Stop it!" Mist cried. "Just stop it, could you just not ... just not..."

The valkyrie trailed off, mouth tight. Amanda had her arms crossed and was pointedly glaring away from Praetorian, who was giving her much the same treatment. Nala looked around at the others, her eyes resting on Tzugakk—the goblin was peeking in from the back door. He offered a weak smile to Nala. She did not remotely return it.

"There is a gathering tonight," she said. "For the eight tournament teams. ShimmerClaw are hosting it."

"Oh, great," Amanda said, speaking to a wall. "Vampire party, that sounds like so much fun."

"Wonderful," Praetorian said, to the opposite wall. "Another source of stress, just exactly what we needed. I suppose Miss Rain conveyed this information to you? Naturally, the thought of sending our squalid little team an invitation never crossed their vampiric minds—"

"Um."

Everyone looked at Mist, who was blushing down at the gilded white card she was fiddling with.

"Um," she repeated. "I didn't want to worry anyone ... I mean I didn't really know when would be a good moment..."

"Well," Praetorian said, but then nothing more, instead frowning at his pointy shoes and worrying his thin black tie.

"It's not like it makes any difference," Amanda muttered. She pushed her straggly hair away from her face, then let it fall back again. "When did you even get that?"

"Last night. Um. One of their zombies delivered it."

"Oh."

"Nala, do you think..."

Mist trailed off; Nala was gone.

"I really wish she wouldn't do that..."

"Aha." Praetorian seemed about to say more, then he shook his head and turned for the stairs, a rather lacklustre swishing of his cape apparently all he could muster. As Mist stared after him she felt something warm and soft squidge against her leg, and looked down at the blue slime.

"Mist?" the slime said. "Are you unhappy?"

Mist blinked.

"Um," she said. Then: "Amanda. Could you please move the piano out of that room over there? I thought we could take that one. Share it, I mean. Um. If you want to."

Amanda placed an awkward hand on Mist's shoulder, and Mist covered it with her own before the zombie girl shuffled off to move the piano.

Outside, Tzugakk was crouching in the garden—he was halfway down a row of scraggly but neatly planted blue-yellow weeds. At Mist's approach he looked up.

"Can you find more like these?" he asked. "These plants."

Mist accepted the task gratefully, hunting for the weeds amidst the piles of wood cluttering the back yard. The slime tried to help but mostly got in the way—in a burst of over-excitement it ended up rolling over the first plant they found, half crushing and half dissolving it. Mist took it back to Tzugakk anyway.

"Ah," he said, accepting the sad leafy scrap with grave care. "Maybe she can clear the front garden, yes."

Mist crouched down beside Tzugakk with a sigh. "You've known Nala a while, right? Why is she like that? Is it a dwarf thing?"

"You don't know many dwarves." Tzugakk glanced at Mist with a small smile. "Do you know the good word elves have? Nathanaa. Compassion-without-compassion. They use it for dwarves, they mean it as insult, but is it such? Maybe yes, maybe no. Dwarves do what is necessary and cannot not do what is necessary. Do you understand?"

"Um..."

"Underground, their mines, always expanding, improving, repairing. This beam needs to be replaced, a dwarf sees this, they replace it. They will not—no no, cannot think 'someone else will do it'. If everyone is this way, everyone is strong. If there is a single weakness ... collapse."

"I still don't think I really understand," Mist said, as the slime nudged at her hand. She patted it absently, then wiped her hand on her shirt. "Are you saying that Nala is like that? And if she is then ... what?"

"Nala is Nala." Tzugakk let out a little wheeze of a laugh. "She is the most Nala in the world. In her life below, alone in that city, she learnt to rely only on herself, never trust, do nothing without reward. As a dwarf, she wants to rely on others, trust innately, think nothing of reward. But, she is not torn by this. She is the one, and she is the other, and she is balanced. That is her beauty."

For a while after this there was silence between the two of them, Tzugakk contentedly tending to his herbs, Mist watching with worried eyes, the slime prowling around pouncing on fallen leaves and bright pink petals. There was the sound of pipe music from somewhere distant, a repetitive but not unpleasant tune, and from inside the house the sound of something heavy being moved; Amanda with the piano. Soon enough these noises were joined by the soft disappointment of a low sigh.

"This isn't how I thought it'd be."

Tzugakk glanced towards Mist, almost catching her eye.

"At least we are together?" he tried.

"But if Nala ... even with everything you said about her, I know you're her friend—I am too, I like her and I don't want to say anything bad about her but if she keeps acting like this, if she keeps just doing whatever she wants and going away like she does ... I mean ... that's not being together..."

Tzugakk and Mist shared a gloomy silence. The pipe music had stopped. The heavy-moving noise from inside the house was now accompanied by Amanda grunting and muttering.

"I am a rat."

Mist stared at the slime. She was in her gloopy humanoid shape, like a blue wax figure slowly melting.

"Oh, no," she said. "Don't listen to Praetorian, he's just horrible sometimes—"

"I heard the other monsters. They talked. Blue slime. Lowest slime. Lowest monster. But rat is ... worse?"

"N-no—"

"I ate rats. Before. In the dark. Rats don't eat slimes. Slimes must be better than rats?"

"I guess so, but that's not—it's just not useful to think like that, okay?"

"How should I think?"

"Just, don't think you're a rat! You're not a rat at all, you're more like ... um..."

"A kitten!" Tzugakk said. Mist stared—then noticed the shift in the slime. Its 'head' was raised, its form more solid. It gave the impression of being interested—no, Mist thought. More than interested. Hopeful.

"That's right!" she said. "Like a kitten! Cute and ... not fluffy, more ... gooey, but definitely cute! And you're just learning about everything, you're so new."

"Kitten," the slime repeated. "Kitten."

"Oh! That's what we can call you! Kitten! Um, if you like it? I think it's a perfect name! And we should name you, right? Someone said something about that, naming our monster ... um, do you like it?"

The slime did one of its blobby nod things—in her excitement she had reverted to her teardrop shape.

"I like it!" she said. "Kitten! It's good to have a name. Yes?"

"Yes," Tzugakk said. "Very important. Very special. Without a name, you are just a monster."

Mist smiled at Tzugakk and Kitten, then pushed herself up.

"I think it's time for a break," she said. "It's a nice day, and the shopping quarter isn't far—how many quarters does this place have, anyway? I have something I need repaired, and maybe Amanda will want to come along ... although that means bringing Praetorian ... maybe we should all go? That might be better. Yes, let's all go. It can be a team outing!"