Common Clay

The next three days proceeded the same way, with more and more wretches falling. Clay would spend the evenings widening his search, killing whatever monsters he ran across, and spend most of the day leading the others to the ones he could track in the daylight. By the time they began to celebrate earning their first [Achievements], the lizards had already been driven further back from Rodcliff, to the point where Clay began to consider making a group attack further into the monsters’ territory.

Of course, the increasing numbers of wretch packs helped weigh the scales on that decision. Even by himself, facing a trio of the beasts was risking a bad wound unless he had the advantage. With the others, it was becoming more and more dangerous as the trios grew more common the closer to the mines he pushed. He still hadn’t seen any hint of flame devils, but he was sure they had to be closer to where the Lair was.

Still, he kept to the pattern for another three days, trying to make absolutely sure that there wouldn’t be attacks on the town while they were gone.

He talked with the Captain of the [Guards] trying to make sure that the [Commoners] would stay close to Rodcliff, and that the few remaining armed defenders would be alert. The man seemed skeptical of his plans, but had been forced to accept them, anyway. After all, it was what the adventurers had been sent to do.

So early in the morning, they set out as a group for the first time since they’d left Crownsguard, and headed north. With any luck, the Gallery would return a level higher.

Clay just hoped that they would all return, period.

Their journey went fairly easily at first.

They were careful as they walked, with Clay making an extra effort to find the wretches strewn across their path. The monsters didn’t give them any Soul when they were slain, but killing them removed more threats to the town, so it was worth the small pauses it took to slay them.

By the time they had reached the furthest point that Clay had scouted, they’d already killed five different trios of wretches, and Clay was beginning to believe that the group tactics might be necessary moving forward. At least when it came to everyone but him; he might have been able to slip past or butcher each trio on his own, but the others weren’t going to be able to do it by themselves.

Finally, they reached the valley that separated Rodcliff from the mines themselves.

It was a broad, shallow depression where the road that led to the mines meandered a little before rising into the mines themselves. There were plenty of trees, though Clay could see several spots where the forest had been scorched by something. Were those signs of the flame devils? The more powerful mantrap spiders had left visible marks like those back in the Tanglewood; perhaps signs of fire were the devils’ calling card.

They moved down into the valley and reached a small clearing covered in small pools of water. A half-burned mining cart lay on its side near the path, with the axels shattered and the wheels hanging loose. The abandoned load of ore had been spilled out across the snow, and Clay thought he could see burnt cloth scattered around it. Had that been a tarp of some kind, torn when the cart had been overturned, or was it the remnants of some poor miner that hadn’t made it to Rodcliff?

Clay led them into the clearing, looking for signs of wretches. His ethereal sense was screaming about danger, but he saw no sign of the wretches anywhere. Traces of them were everywhere, though the pattern made no sense. It was almost as if they had been fighting something here, and recently. Burnt patches marked where their pitch breath had punched holes in the snow, and in some places, the snow was mixed with dirt, as if the wretches had mixed it with their dying thrashes. Had they fought the baron here? If they had, why did the signs here still seem so fresh?

He turned, searching for more signs of battle, but he didn’t see any weapons or armor that could have been left behind. The others spread out around him, their own eyes running over the terrain. He saw Anne idly kick one of the rocks in the pile that had spilled out of the minecart. It skipped over the snow, kicking up a piece of dirt that landed in a nearby puddle.

The puddle rippled, but the dirt stayed on the surface.

Clay froze, his mind replaying those events. Everything about it was wrong. If the water had been frozen, there should not have been ripples. If it hadn’t been frozen, despite the cold, the dirt would have sunk into it. His eyes widened slightly as he looked around, counting at least half a dozen more puddles around the clearing. Why would there be so much water in this one spot, especially in small puddles? Why wouldn’t it have been buried beneath snow or frozen solid?

Why was his ethereal sense screaming at him now? What if it wasn’t water at all?

He tried to keep his voice low and urgent. “Circle, now. We’re surrounded.”

It was a testament to their training that they responded immediately. They fell back into a rough circle, excluding Clay out of sheer habit, since he’d never really seen the need to be part of it. Some of them were desperately searching the surrounding woods for signs of the wretches. Others were looking at him, as if expecting him to point them at the enemy. For his part, he started the Flame-tongued Song, knowing he suddenly had need for close range power.

They had almost gotten fully into formation when the water started to move.

It wasn’t water, of course. The monsters seemed to be made out of fluid, but they were contained within a skin of some kind that shone in the wan sunlight of the winter sky. They didn’t just ooze out of the holes they had dug into the earth. Instead, they came vaulting out of the ground, leaping in a single lurch that sent them airborne. Some of them went for the others in his group, but isolated and on his own, Clay must have seemed more vulnerable. At least three of the things jumped at him.

Clay moved, knowing that staying in place was going to be a death sentence no matter what level he’d reached. He moved to the side, swinging his spear as he passed out of the line of the monsters’ charge. The blade of the spear glittered as it caught the sunlight. Then the cutting edge buried itself in the middle of one of the airborne blobs. To his shock, the monster seemed to deform around the impact, as if it was trying to absorb the attack.

Then the spear breached the rubbery skin of the beast, and it abruptly exploded, showering the snow with a wave of noxious, sharp-smelling fluid. Clay jerked in surprise; he hadn’t expected the thing to self-destruct.

{Small Ironslime slain! Soul increases by 20.}

He didn’t let surprise stop him. The others were all shouting; he heard the crackle of Xavien’s lightning and caught a flash of Natalie stabbing at another slime with a javelin. The two remaining slimes that had leaped for him landed hard, plowing up small furrows of snow as they rolled to a halt. Clay lunged after them, catching one with his spearpoint before it could cancel its own momentum completely. Once again, the rubbery surface resisted for a moment, and then it exploded in a fountain of that same awful fluid.

{Small Ironslime slain! Soul increases by 20.}

Part of it slapped him in the chest, and Clay accidentally sucked in a breath of the fumes. The foul air seared its way down into his lungs, and he felt his vision blur slightly. He coughed, forcing himself to focus, even as he lost the grip on his [Chant].

He’d just barely managed to cough twice before the third slime jumped him.

It hit his chest like a sledgehammer, and Clay let go of his spear as he stumbled backward. The slime seemed to sprout three separate grasping arms, two of which tried to bind his arms while the third reached for his throat.

Clay snarled, ripping his right arm free of the thing’s grasp. His Pell knife was in his hand a moment later, and he stabbed the thing so hard that the rubbery flesh failed to fight back at all. He barely had time to see the notification that showed its death before it abruptly exploded again.

{Small Ironslime slain! Soul increases by 20.}

He barely saw the [Gift]’s text through the sudden blurriness. The foul liquid burned at his eyes and nose; foul fumes filled his lungs. Clay fell to his knees, choking and gasping. Clay spent a desperate moment swiping the fluid away from his face and chest, trying to clear his mouth and nose.

Then he gritted his teeth and started a new [Chant].

Pure Touch wasn’t normally something that found a lot of use. The cleaning [Chant] had mostly served to hide evidence of spider ichor when he was still concealing his hunts in the Tanglewood, but now, covered in slime goo, he needed it for a different purpose. It was completed in a few painful breaths, and then he was purged of the fluid.

His vision cleared slightly, and he staggered back to his feet. The others were choking and sputtering as well; it didn’t look like any of the slimes had survived, but their aftereffects clearly had.

Stumbling forward, he started Pure Touch again and grabbed Natalie and Lawrence by the shoulders. The [Chant] surged through him again, and both adventurers slumped in relief as the remnants of the slime fled. He stumbled forward, to where both Anne and Jack were still standing, and purged them as well. Xavien seemed completely unaffected; a charred patch of melted snow showed how he’d managed it.

“I-Is everyone okay? Any wounds?”

Natalie was coughing too hard to respond, but Anne spoke up first. “I think most of us are fine, but what were those things? Ironslimes? I thought this was a new Lair. It shouldn’t have two types of monsters already, right?”

“Slimes aren’t lizards, Anne.” Xavien looked more troubled than officious. He looked at Clay. “Lairs only produce one type of creature, right? Spiders in the Tanglewood, lizards here.”

Clay nodded, his slime-numbed mind starting to recover. “T-that’s right. One Lair, one monster.”

Natalie finally spat something out into the snow and shook herself. Lawrence put a hand on her back, looking a little dazed himself. “Could we be facing a Dungeon? Do those have multiple types?”

Jack shook his head. “No. They follow the same rules. Just more kinds of the same type. Plus, how would a Dungeon form that quickly, here?” He looked at Clay, as if expecting to be either corrected or reinforced.

“Jack’s right. It can’t be a Dungeon.” Another possibility was forming in his head. “There have to be two.”

Anne snorted. “I mean, yeah. We just fought the second type.”

“That’s not what he means, Anne.” Jack’s eyes were narrowed now. “You’re saying there’s a second Lair.”

“Yeah. Has to be.” He felt a sudden chill move through him. Lairs did form spontaneously, sometimes. It usually happened around old ruins or ancient artifacts, places where Lairs had formed before, or where a large number of adventurers had died. The Guild usually checked on such places regularly, and they were normally far from towns or villages, for obvious reasons.

Lairs did not normally form spontaneously in the same place, at the same time. There was only one way that could happen, and it suggested that things in Rodcliff were worse than he could have ever expected.

Xavien was protesting, his voice incredulous. “How is that possible? The magical energies that rip open the breach should have dissipated after the first Lair formed. What could possibly make a second one in such a short—”

“Not now, Xavien.” The [Oracle] glanced at him, clearly mulish, but he subsided. Clay looked around, evaluating them. Natalie was definitely the worst off, but she seemed to be getting back on her feet even as he watched. “Natalie, can you continue? Or do you need more help?”

The [Alchemist] shook her head, as if trying to clear it. “’Vrything’s pretty fuzzy, but I’m fine.” She spat into the snow again and grimaced. “Might need a minute. M’be two?”

“Let me try something.” He started the reversed [Chant] for Pure Touch, something he’d called Clean Heart. It completed in mere moments, and he touched her on the shoulder. She shook herself as the fog of the toxins cleared from her system. “Better?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” She gave him a glare. “You know, I think it’s past time we started to learn some of that stuff. If only so I don’t have to wait around for you to clean the poison off of me.”

Clay nodded. “Yeah. That starts now. Today.” The others jerked in surprise, and Natalie’s mouth fell open. “We’ll start the moment we get back to Rodcliff. The question is, do we keep going, or do we go back now?”

They looked around at each other, considering. It was, as usual, Anne that spoke up. “Well, I know that we just got jumped pretty bad, but I’m about five Soul away from my very first level increase. I say we try to find a few more of those slime things and put some holes in them. Jack?”

Jack flourished with his knives. “I am ready to continue.”

Xavien nodded as well. “I am as well.”

Lawrence looked at Natalie with concern. “I don’t know. Those [Chants] might be useful in case something grabs Clay. I think we should catch our breath first.”

Natalie finished one last attempt to spit the remaining poison into the ground. “Normally, I’d agree. I do have a vengeful streak, though.” She looked at Clay. “Let’s keep going. We’ll level up, and then you’re sharing those spells of yours, at last.”

Clay nodded. “All right. Let’s keep going. Stay alert, and watch for more of those pools of slime around here. I want to keep those things at range, if we can.” They nodded, though both Jack and Lawrence looked a little unhappy. Perhaps the [Chants] might give them more options. “Let’s go.”

They found the next nest of slimes just a handful of minutes later. There were seven of them, nestled into little divots of earth between the trees. There were more signs of combat between the lizards and the slimes; apparently the monsters of the two Lairs had already been fighting one another. Clay wondered if that meant there would be fewer monsters, or more highly ranked ones. They’d find out eventually.

Clay started the Canticle of Ice and then motioned for Jack and Lawrence to stalk forward. The two melee-focused adventurers would need a little more long range help, and he wanted them to take their shot while the number of enemies was lower.

He finished the [Chant] and then waited until the two men were close. Then he unleashed it, forming five sharp spears of ice that shot straight over the [Knave] and the [Occultist] and into most of the holes in the ground. Five sudden detonations sent clouds of toxins across the snow and dirt.

{Small Ironslime slain! Soul increases by 20.}

{Small Ironslime slain! Soul increases by 20.}

{Small Ironslime slain! Soul increases by 10.}

{Small Ironslime slain! Soul increases by 10.}

{Small Ironslime slain! Soul increases by 10.}

He watched as the remaining two slimes lurched out of their holes to face the adventurers one on one. This time, he had a much better view of the action. Lawrence caught the slime mid-jump, smashing it to the ground. Its skin resisted his initial hit, but he simply kept battering it until the thing exploded, coating half his staff in toxins, but fortunately not affecting the [Occultist] himself.

Jack, however, didn’t have that luxury. He darted in close to the slime, his knives held ready. As it jumped at him, its grasping arms reaching for his face, the [Knave] dodged out and to the side, striking along the side of the slime with one of the heavy Pell knives. The edge of the knife tore a brutal gash in its skin, and Jack staggered a little as some of the fluid splashed over him.

Then he abruptly straightened up. He and Lawrence exchanged a look and grinned widely. “Wow. Didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”

“Me either.” Lawrence flexed his fingers, and tentacles made of dirt erupted from the snow nearby. They wrapped around a small tree, as if trapping it. “That is…new.”

Clay grinned. “So what [Experience] did you get? [Conditioned]? [Studious]?” Those were the ones that Master Taylor had always referenced as key parts of the Academy’s efforts to guide their adventurers’ progress.

“[Slayer].” Jack and Lawrence had answered in unison, clearly by accident. They both stopped and stared at each other, surprised. When they turned back to him, Clay tried to cover his own incredulity.

“That’s… great. Actually, that’s one of the first [Experiences] that I got back in the Tanglewood. It should help you out a lot.”

Natalie was studying him, clearly unconvinced by his act. Xavien was too busy looking a little sour that the others had leveled up first. Anne, on the other hand, was already starting to look through the forest for new targets. Clay got them back into formation and headed out again. One more fight, and then they’d head for home.

The next battle went more or less the same. This time, he prepared the Flame-tongued Song, and asked the three long-ranged adventurers to take their shots. They were facing only six slimes this time, and he wanted to be sure that they got their kills before he wiped the remaining targets out.

Clay held the [Chant] as soon as he finished and nodded to the others. Xavien unleashed his lightning immediately, followed closely by Anne’s arrow and Natalie’s javelin. Three of the slimes popped in quick succession—the one struck by lightning released a blinding flash as it died—and then the last three hurled themselves out of their holes towards him.

He let them close just enough for the flames to reach them before he burned them all. Their toxic clouds only made the detonations that much bigger and brighter. The fumes burned away, leaving behind clouds of oily black smoke that filled him with satisfaction.

{Small Ironslime slain! Soul increases by 10.}

{Small Ironslime slain! Soul increases by 10.}

{Small Ironslime slain!}

{Achievement Unlocked! Slimebane: 5% increase to all skills and damage against slimes. Bonus increases to 10% versus Small Ironslimes.}

The team was now at level two, and he already had a new [Achievement]. A good day, as long as he ignored the fact that he was facing twice the threat that he’d assumed he was going to have to fight here. His feeling of satisfaction faded and he looked over at the others.

He found them already talking with one another. Natalie’s voice raised over the others. “You got [Slayer] too? Did we all get the same [Experience]?”

“Seems that way.” Xavien glanced at Clay. “Perhaps something odd is happening with us, as well as with this place.”

“Maybe.” He looked around the clearing, where the smoke was already starting to disperse. “Grab your javelin and arrow, and let’s go. We’ve done enough for today. Let’s get back and warn the town that their problems just got twice as bad.”

The other nodded, and they started back through the valley. Clay couldn’t help but glance back as they reentered the forest again. It was barely midday, but it seemed like the entire face of the mission had changed—and he wasn’t entirely sure of how to handle it.

“All right. First lesson on [Chants].” Clay took a deep breath, trying not to picture Syr Katherine’s disapproving glare in his mind. “The first and most important thing you need to know is that some [Chants] are dangerous.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “I mean, we know that, Clay. We’ve seen you breathing fire and throwing ice around.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Clay shook his head. For a moment, he looked for a new way to explain. He drew his Pell knife and tapped the flat of the blade. “This is a tool. A tool, but you can control it, right? Is it dangerous?”

They all nodded, and Clay tossed the knife onto the floor. It clattered on the wood and sat in the middle of the circle of adventurers. “Now is it dangerous?”

Jack started to nod and then stopped. Anne gave him a look, and he grimaced. “No, I guess. I mean, I’d have to step on it, and even that probably wouldn’t hurt. The most I could do was trip on it.”

Anne laughed. “Which means it would mostly be dangerous to Lawrence, right? One time back at the Academy, he managed to trip over—”

“Not now, Anne. I need you to understand something.” Clay drew in another breath. “Some [Chants] are dangerous. Not dangerous tools, not dangerous in the wrong hands. They are a threat all on their own, without anyone behind them. Using them is not like using a knife. It’s like sticking your hand in a fire.”

They all looked back at him with skeptical expressions. Lawrence was the only one that seemed appropriately worried. It was Natalie that spoke first, though. “How dangerous are we talking here? A bad backlash or something?”

Clay fixed her with a look. “It will kill you. It will kill anyone near you. It will keep killing anyone who is nearby for years and years after you’re gone. If people find out it was you that did it, they will curse your name for generations. I am not exaggerating.”

He stared at her until she nodded, and then looked around at each of them in turn until they did the same thing. Lawrence had gone pale now, and the rest seemed suitably impressed. Clay let out a small breath, and then continued. “The reason I’m telling you this is because I need you to be careful with this knowledge. Stick to the [Chants] you know are safe. Don’t improvise or explore, not until you know a lot more than even I do right now.”

Then he paused, the image of an enraged Syr Katherine appearing in his vision for a moment. “Finally, if you ever find a [Chant] that wants to be used, fight it. Don’t let it take control. Your life, and the lives of anyone around you, depends on it. Do you understand?”

They all murmured agreement, and Clay relaxed a little. He’d done what he could to warn them. There wasn’t much more he could do now, except to teach them the kinds of things that would keep them all alive. He dug into his belongings and found Olivia’s notes.

“These are some [Chants] that I’ve discovered. The attack spells are only likely to be useful for those of you that have [Memory] as one of your primary [Stats]. The rest are more… useful than deadly, but they are safe to use. I can tell you how to read them, but they are going to be hard to fix in your mind at first. That’s normal, and a good sign about them, actually.”

Natalie got her hands on the pages first, and she was already greedily trying to read the words. Clay grimaced and continued. “You’ll find that every [Chant] has two versions, one for when it is read forwards, and the other when it is read backwards. For example, Firm Step helps you anchor yourself on a surface. The reversed [Chant], Floating Step, is what you can use to hover above the ground.”

“Oh, gods.”

Lawrence’s whisper snapped Clay’s attention to him. The rest of the adventurers looked over as well, their expressions curious. Even Natalie frowned and looked up from the parchment. Anne seemed the most disturbed. “Lawrence, buddy? You’re making everyone worry.”

“You don’t remember, do you? I mean, some of you weren’t there.” He shook his head, his eyes still wild. “We asked Master Taylor how a Lair was sealed or destroyed. She said it was magic that was restricted to higher-level adventurers. That we didn’t need to worry about it yet.”

Xavien shrugged. “So what? I’m betting we still don’t need to worry. Not at level two.”

Clay stayed silent, and Lawrence met his eyes. The [Occultist] nodded slowly. “I think Clay doesn’t agree. Don’t you remember? He didn’t just bury the Lair near his home. He destroyed it.”

Natalie blinked. “And?”

Jack’s eyes widened slightly. “The only magic he can use are [Chants], Natalie. He’s a [Commoner]. Which means the magic he used, the magic Master Taylor was talking about…”

“Was a [Chant].” Lawrence swallowed. He almost looked sick. “And [Chants] can be reversed.”

Now they were all pale. One by one, they turned to stare at him, some looking for confirmation, others hoping for denial. Clay closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. When he opened them again, he repeated the words they needed to hear.

“Some [Chants] are dangerous. Do you understand now?”

Their zeal for study was somewhat dampened after that discussion.

All the same, they took to studying the magic, anyway. As Clay had known, they would need the [Chants] for the fight ahead. More than that, he hoped that being familiar with the safer kinds of [Chants] would shield them, in case any of them happened across a copy of the Poisoned Wish somewhere down in the mines.

He was reasonably certain that it might exist there. With two Lairs in one place, at least one of them had to have been created by a Rogue. Almost worse than that, it had to have been a Rogue that knew what they were doing. Otherwise, the fool would have been killed by the creation of the first Lair, the same way the ancient [Occultist] had been in the Tanglewood.

All of which suggested that the Guild would want to know about the situation sooner rather than later. The idea of a Rogue running around bringing Lairs into the world had to be a special nightmare for them, which Clay had to consider a fair concern. How many Lairs could the Rogue create? How much power did each one give them? Were they still in the area, just waiting for the chance to ambush the team? Or had they left to go cause more problems elsewhere?

The information on the slimes wasn’t any more encouraging. Olivia’s notes contained a simple sketch of the bloblike, formless things, followed by a typically vague explanation of their abilities. Ironslimes have no form. They strike from ambush, seeking to imprison or envelope. Their hide resists damage, and they are full of poison. They are capable of strong jumps and silent movement. Beware the water. They are never alone. On death, their sacrifice can weaken a warrior. A second image, that of an adventurer struggling with the slime engulfing his head, showed what the things’ goal had been in their ambush.

Her other entries for the larger versions were not encouraging, either. Under an image of a woman stabbing at slime that was trying to swallow her whole body, the words continued. Large ironslimes grow in both durability and size. They remain silent. They may lurk below the ground or in the branches. Beware their nature, as they are subtle. They must be cut into pieces. Their poison is more potent; take care of how they die. Where they move, the ground becomes water.

Then there was another picture, this time of a slime the size of a small house lurking in the dark. The slim shape of a spear extended from the slime to where an adventurer was blocking it with a shield. Under it, Olivia’s writing summed up the ancient handbook’s brief advice. Giant ironslimes strike from the dark. Beware their extended reach. They turn the world itself against you. Stand fast, or perish.

Combined with the unknown nature of the larger wretches, it didn’t look like either of these Lairs was going to be fun to destroy—especially since the handbook had never given any details about what the Guardians would be like, or how to counter them. Based on his previous experience, the answers to those questions would not be easy to find out.

Still, at least he would have some way of finding things out. He’d start with those burnt patches he’d seen in the valley, and work from there. They just needed to keep going.