The first level of the party’s quest populated before them; a linear trail which stretched one hundred feet before reaching the beginning of the forest where it became surrounded by a wall of trees. Vines wrapped around the trunks like snakes suffocating a meal, and thirty feet above the muddy surface, the trees split and their branches formed an entangled ceiling.

Grey shivered as his eyes wandered above their path. From what he could see, the trail would lead them straight for only a while before it would have to curve along the face of the mountain for the towering expanse was far too steep to climb straight up. What lay on that path, however, he could not tell; it was concealed by armies of dense foliage as far up as he could see before it disappeared into a heavy fog.

Crow stepped in front of Grey and Damsel, unsheathing his Blades of the Forsaken, and without bothering to look at them, said; “You think it’s menacing from here, wait until we get inside. These introductory levels are always eerie and lonely places.”

Damsel turned to Grey, cupped her hands over his ear and started to whisper that she was surprised the brooding Rogue hadn’t said anything likening the darkness to his own heart when Crow sighed longingly. “It feels like home; lonely like my heart and eerie like my heart.”

The two best friends clasped their hands over their mouths, stifling a laugh.

“You might’ve spoke too soon,” Grey whispered.

“Come on, noobs,” Crow said to them, stalking forward with his blades at the ready.

Together, they hadn’t even gotten five steps past the forest’s opening when the snake-like vines slithered off the first wall of trees, reached across the middle, and knotted together, sealing the three into the forest. Grey spun around, gulped. Crow chuckled and made a malevolent little comment about how there was no going back.

“As if we didn’t already know that,” Damsel murmured.

The air grew heavier and damp; only breathable because of the luminescent plants that lined the narrow path. Colors danced off of the leaves, small amphibious creatures hopped from puddle to puddle, swallowing blood sucking insects off of the tree bark. The mud on the floor thickened with each imprint of the heroes’ boots. The trees hung over their heads, creating only shadows as markers, and the fog had seemed to drift down from the top of the mountain for it had started wafting in between the forest.

Three paces ahead of his party, Crow stopped in his tracks and put his hand up to alert the others. “Hold on.”

Grey grumbled, “What is it? We should keep moving.”

Pointing towards a small puddle of mud in front of him, “See that?”

A hole opened into a thick black sludge. It bubbled on the surface and smoke rose from the pit carrying a smell that could only be described as death.

“Look!” Damsel shifted their eyes upward, “there’s a vine. I bet we can swing across.”

Crow turned around, looking impressed, “Alright. I’ll go first. Follow my lead.”

Taking a step back, the young rogue cracked his neck side to side and started off toward the gap in the forest floor. He grabbed onto the vine easily, swinging towards the other side, performing a flawless backflip, and landed almost completely silently. His knees bent, hand on the floor like some sort of crawling lizard, he turned on the balls of his feet, signaling to the other two, “Come on.”

Show off, Grey scoffed.

He turned to Damsel, who briefly fanned herself, “Whew, okay. I’ll go next.”

She tied her hair up into a tight bun and then started to swing her arms back and forth to gain momentum. Dashing forward, snatching the vine mid-air, landing gracefully. The other two were impressed.

“Whoa! You guys see that?” Damsel swung around in celebration, “Alright, Grey, you’re up.”

His first test, Grey placed his shield back into his Item screen, it hung directly on his back. It was heavy, only being supported by his young spindly legs, “Alright. Stand back guys.”

“Please.” Crow whispered.

Grey took a deep breath in, three seconds, and then out, three seconds. The smoke rose out of the pit ahead of him. The vine only dangled slightly, back and forth, an easy target to leap and grab. Just like the training course. He planted his feet, turning them to create friction in the slippery mud. Heavy footed, he high stepped toward the pit. Each step falling deeper and deeper in to the thick, slimy mud. His feet felt heavy, the mud gathering around them seemed to be getting deeper. The black sludge in the pit bubbled louder.

Firmly off of his back leg, Grey started for the black pit in front of him. Right, left, right, he was off with a bound suited for the first round of cuts at JV basketball tryouts. He barely grasped the vine with his right hand and in a moment of panic wrapped his leg to prevent his falling into a slimy demise.

“Leap off, you idiot.” Crow cheered from the sideline.

Grey tried but his jump hadn’t created enough momentum to clear the gap on the first swing. Stalling there above the center of the pit, he gulped. More embarrassed than anything else as Crow laughed.

“You look like a cat avoiding a bath.”

“Shut up, Crow,” Damsel said. Her eyes grew wide then, “Grey, um, hurry.”

“What?” he asked, quickly realizing what she looked so worried about as he heard a boiling below his feet. His eyes darted down. The pit had transformed from a nuisance into a threat. Now more sludge than mud puddle, it bubbled, spitting and spewing black goop. Clutching to the vine with his hands and feet, he scrambled to the top of the vine. “Guys, what do I do?!”

Crow facepalmed. “Kick your legs back once more for momentum, then swing forward and hurl yourself off. It’s really not that difficult, for the sake of fucking One.”

Grey thought about it for a minute, trying to figure out the mechanics of the movement, and started kicking back and forth like a child on a swing set, but it wasn’t enough. Damsel told him to relax, which he thought was easy for her to say, then she dashed to a tree and broke a branch off it, briefly asking the forest for forgiveness. She returned and, extending it over the edge of the volcanic ooze, yelled for him to take it. He kicked a little ways forward, tried grabbing hold; his fingers brushed it, then the vine swung back. Below, the ooze had come to life. It piled on top of itself, climbing its own body to ascend to the dangling hero. It manifested hands out of its thick substance and snatched Grey’s feet. He tucked his knees, and yelped courageously.

Crow ripped the branch from Damsel’s hands, “Jump! I’ll pull you in.”

Eyeing the branch, Grey gave the attempt one last valiant effort, kicked as hard as he could. As he swung, the oozing hand burned the vine just below his feet. Crow yelled for the noob hero to release, and Grey listened; he flew an inch, snatched the branch. Crow yanked back, and pulled Grey toward him -- out of the sludge’s reach. Grunting, the two toppled over each other, and rolled a few feet across the trail. When they stopped, they craned their necks and watched as the sludge sunk back into the pit, just simmering on the surface, back to its resting state. With a sigh, they both let their heads drop and just laid there on their backs for a minute.

Grey chuckled nervously. “That was close, huh?”

“Shut up, noob,” Crow said to him. “You’re a serious handicap, you know that?”

The obvious anchor of the group had just started to protest when Damsel -- who’d been standing at their feet, facing the pit -- interrupted with an inconvenient notification. She had one finger pointing to their previous obstacle and her other hand was clutched around her amulet. Pushing themselves up to their feet, the bickering boys looked past her and the six foot gap between them and the pit.

“Well, fuck me,” Crow said.

The fog had increased in its density, tangling over the trail in nearly opaque hues of purplish grey, but even as thick as it was they could still see the pit’s mid-creation mud sculpture; a giant flock of dark, slimy, bucklings. Their cries were almost as horrific as a restaurant filled with young parents who’d had the audacity to bring their wailing infants into a public place. The bucklings evolved into full grown goopy goats; still bleating. Grey’s inspect ability automatically popped up on one of them.

Slime Goats:

Level 3

HP: 17

Cursed by the environmental neglect of Al’eron Con’s dark corporatist magic, Slime Goats exist solely for revenge -- if one human is an asshole worthy of deletion, all of them are.

Important note: Slime Goats have a two second respawn time.

As useful as the ability was, it never did have a terrific sense of timing, for as Grey read it over, the slime goats stomped their hooves and charged forward. Feeling a little humiliated for having such trouble with the simple act of swinging over a pit, Grey pulled out Shield of the Misnomer, leapt in front of Damsel and yelled; “Go, I’ll hold them off!” He stood his ground, and unleashed the most powerful shield bash he could.

The attack smashed the first wall, and the goats exploded, spraying ooze in all directions. But just as Grey felt some triumphant EXP flow into him and went to attack the next row, he understood what the prompt’s “important note” had been referring to. The ones he’d smashed regathered the goops of their massacred bodies. Their contents, like some toxic and impenetrable puddy, molded together again.

“It’s useless,” Crow cried out from up ahead, “we can’t use base attacks on them.”

Grey tried his best to wipe the ooze off of his hoodie, but the poison effect had already taken course. His HP bar drained, ticking slowly over time. Eyeing his pixelvision, Grey noticed a notification in the upper corner from his party member.

“Use it. It will stop the poison effect from draining your HP.”

Grey eyed Crow up ahead of him by several steps, once again feeling inadequate in his role. He quickly equipped the item gifted to him. A small patch he placed on his upper arm. There was no time-lapse in effect as the patch sealed his body in some sort of poison-immune shield.

“Thanks Crow.” Grey’s HP bar stopped draining and sat at around 75%.

“I can’t be poisoned, it’s an inherited rogue ability. No reason to thank me.”

The goats galloped nearer and the sounds of their footsteps sloshed right behind the three heroes. Damsel and Grey struggled to keep up with Crow who bounded over vines and more black puddles easily. With the adrenaline coursing through his body, Grey was able to make the jumps a little easier. Leaping and grabbing onto the vines, swinging ever so clumsily onto the path in front. The forest was relentless, seemingly birthing obstacles as they ran. With the ooze grabbing at their ankles, Grey and Damsel had to keep applying the patches every time their cooldown effect ran out. Then, one of the puddle’s hands snatched Damsel’s ankles, tripped her, and threw her to the floor. It began dragging her back toward the oncoming stampede as she dug her hands into the trail, and cried out. Grey spun to help her. Even if his shield bash couldn’t really affect the slime goats, no threat could stop him from trying to protect his best friend. He slashed the wrist of the bubbling blackness, and raised his shield to bash the stampede.

Crow groaned, shoved him to the side, and with Blades of the Forsaken held at his sides, leapt head first into his foes. Slicing and dicing in rogue-like fashion, splatters of ooze shot in the air. He yelled at his allies to get out, and followed it up with an insult.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Damsel protested, as Grey helped her up. “Now we’re not going to help you.”

“Good,” Crow yelled to them, cutting a goat’s head off.

The two best friends left their dark savior behind, and took off down the obstacle riddled path until they’d gone about twenty feet and Damsel finally turned to look back at Crow. He was being overrun, the stampede piling on top of him. She asked Grey is perhaps they should provide aid. He glanced at his self-proclaimed rival, and shrugged.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“But…” she started to say.

Crow’s blades stabbed through the pile, puncturing the ceiling of oozing bodies, then he corkscrewed over his foes, did a double front flip -- while cutting up more enemies -- added a 540 spin, and stuck a landing that any judge would’ve given a 10/10. He performed an even more impressive hair toss, and smirked.

“See,” Grey said, picking up into a run again. “He’s fine.”

In no time, Crow had caught up with them, occasionally darting back to suck up some EXP, where all but his silhouette would disappear in the looming fog, then he’d return. Shortly after, just as Grey was about to ask when they’d get to the end of the level, their feet slipped on a sheer drop that everyone would later swear hadn’t been there before, and they plummeted into an abysmal fog.