Reck Well - Author

Desk of Reck: Some Days... are Harder than Others...

It's been a quieter week from me, and I wanted tell you why... not because I feel obligated to, but because grief is a tricky thing. Sometimes you need to hide. Sometimes you need to share.

I lost my eldest daughter, Miranda, about a year ago. It was very sudden. She lost her life in a drunk driving car accident. She was twenty-two and really on the cusp of her life. Last year Jen and I lived a horror no parent should have to.

There was a time period that I wasn't really sure I'd ever be able to write again. After months of failing to write the sequel to Potions and Perils, I decided to try short stories. Part of my problem was finding the will to write, and part of the problem was my short term memory was shot. Grief has this weird way of making days blur together. And I couldn't remember what I wrote the day before much less the week before. Which makes it very hard to write a novel.

So I decided to try short stories -- because who cares what you wrote yesterday? Today's a new story. It worked. It pulled me out of my grief... enough. I feel like I still struggle with my memory some days, which is why I have a very expansive spreadsheet tracking stuff (and why I'm always grateful when you all point out inconsistencies).

My next act, as a writer, was to write Stumbling Up. I wanted something different something to push myself and something light, comedic. A glow worm in the dark.

Jen reminded me today that Miranda would have loved Stumbling Up. When I told them that there's no way Miranda would have read something this nerdy, they agreed... but reminded me that she shared my sense of humor and would have loved Richard, and all the jokes... and would have maybe listened to the audio :).

At the con, many folks noticed the hedgehog tattoo on my arm and commented about how cute it was. Thank you for that. Sometimes I shared that it was her memorial tattoo - I'd found the sketch in her journal. Some of the time I just smiled, and said, "Isn't it adorable?" Either way, whether I felt like explaining or not, it felt good that Miranda was seen for a moment.

Miranda's favorite color was yellow growing up. At some point her room was such a bright yellow it glowed. My Maximillian sunflowers bloomed these last couple weeks (see the picture on the post). They're covered in butterflies and lightening bugs.

I don't know if I have some cosmic understanding to end this note on. We are all on our journeys in life... until we're not.

Be kind to yourself.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 63: Hook, Line, and Sinker

I put everything I could into the [Mundane] leap, terror throwing me off the shore. It was my worst nightmare. For a moment I dangled between the boulder and cliff, flying through the gap. My right foot smacked the stone, and I tossed my weight forward, slapping hard against the boulder. My body rebounded, and my feet dipped into the river. I scrambled, trying to gain purchase.

Richard undulated forward, leaving a thick, white slime on my hands as he crawled to safety.

“This isn’t the time for slime!” I yelled at him. Damn slu— the slime glued my hands to the rock. I stopped my frantic scramble now anchored to the boulder.

There, you're safe.

Icy fingers grabbed at my legs as I hung limply.

My foot slipped off the underside of the rock, and I hung limply, pinned by Richard’s slime.

I would hurry. [Glue] won’t hold forever.

Using the leverage I had, I flexed my muscles, pulling my body up. Just as my feet got under me, the [Glue] started to release. I stood carefully. The ridged stone was wet, and the underside had a deep green moss that'd caused my feet to slip. Breathing heavily, I closed my eyes.

It was hard to trust skills when they fizzled like [Mind the Gap].

Skills shouldn't fizzle like that. They should be rock solid. Tandy and I were both having trouble.

You okay, little buddy?

"I'm fine," the audacity of calling me little buddy. I pawed at my backpack. Thankfully, the rod and my gear were safe. It’d only been my face that’d kissed the rock.

With a deep breath, I took a step forward, carefully placing my toeholds, and leaned forward to grip the rock.

I do not know how I'm going to get back to the shore, but that is a problem for future me.

Slowly, ridge by notch, I worked my way up to the top of the boulder. It stuck three meters out of the water, and the top held a scruffy-looking tree that was eking out an existence with its roots melding to the top of the boulder.

I sat hard, swinging my backpack next to me. The scorching breeze formed little tufts of whitecaps. The rest of the world melted in the rush of water, fading into the background. I took in the incredible view, relaxing for the first time in weeks.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?"

I jerked almost losing my seat. Looking down, I saw that the far side of the boulder dropped to a small alcove where a young guy sat in the shade. He'd tossed his own fishing line out into the water.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

I came out here for some alone time. Well, alone time plus Richard, for whatever that was worth, and this guy had been sitting here fishing the whole time?

"Hi," I didn't bother to hide my disappointment. I couldn't get a good look at the guy; an oversized straw hat covered his face. All I could see was a reed bobbing up and down as he chewed on it.

"I hope you brought bait. There's nothing on this rock to use, and I'm not too keen on sharing what little I've got left."

"I'm good, brought everything I need." Richard had finally made it to the top of the rock, his yellow antenna extending out in front of him, surveying the view.

Silence hung between us. Honestly, I didn't want to continue the conversation, but it was also awkward just ignoring each other. I watched the guy watch his line.

"You catch anything yet?" I started twisting the two sections of my pole together and stringing the thin line between the loops on the rod.

"Ayup, got a stringer attached to my foot. Nothing too big, but I'll be eating well for the next couple of days." The guy hadn't moved a muscle. I squinted and looked at his foot, and I saw that a rough rope was tied around his ankle. That's one way to do it. I hadn't really planned on catching much, but I brought a stringer of my own.

One day I hoped to get one of the fancy extra-dimensional rings for private storage. Today, however, it was a [Mundane] sort of day.

"Good, I'm hoping to catch enough for dinner for my team. This seems like a promising spot." With the line threaded through the loops, I got out the biggest hook in my kit, and holding it out to Richard, I whispered, "Are you sure?"

Richard twirled his eyestalks in the universal sign for rolling his eyes. He didn't even bother saying anything, so I just began looping and firmly tying the hook to the line.

The last thing we needed was for the hook to slip off and send Richard to the bottom of the river. I frowned at the thought: did slugs float? It didn't matter. Losing him in the river wasn't a thought I wanted to dwell on.

None of these ideas seemed wise to me.

With everything set, I looked at my slug. He'd been sunbathing, stretching out, avoiding the small amount of shade the tiny tree cast.

"How do you want to do this?" I whispered, I really didn't want to explain to the stranger that I had a talking fanged banana slug [Companion]. [Owner]. Whatever.

The last [Mundane] that caught me talking to Richard avoided me for the three days we were stuck in Tresseat. Which was hard, because he'd been the mayor that'd hired us for the job.

I mimed sticking the hook in Richard's lip, like I might if I had a minnow I was using for bait. The hook in my hand was ridiculously large, a whole hand-span big, but even so, I wondered if it was big enough to support all of Richard.

He'd gotten chunkier lately.

I heard that. And no, you're not hooking it through my lip, now watch.

I held out the hook and watched as he slithered up and wound his body around the metal. He wrapped once, twice, three times and let his tail section trail off into the air. Richard glowed faintly golden, a sure sign he was using a skill. Slime oozed out of his pores, and it seemed to solidify his body into the shape, locking him into place. His tail waved lazily in the air.

There, that should take care of it.

"Will you be able to breathe?" It was a dumb question. I knew it as soon as it came out of my mouth. He wouldn't have volunteered if he hadn’t had some way to survive.

No, I'm a land mollusk. I can't breathe underwater. I don’t have [Gills] like some sea slugs I know. Before I could protest, he continued. I can, however, hold my breath for several hours. And before you get all worried, I also have a skill that will temporarily grant me [Gills]. So, I'll be safe, not that it matters. I am [Immortal] after all.

The more Richard insisted on his [Immortality], the more I questioned its veracity. I looked up to find my new rock buddy staring up at Richard.

"Is that a banana slug?" The man stood, stretched on his toes to see over the ledge of the boulder. He wasn't very tall. The straw hat he'd been wearing had fallen back onto his back, attached by a leather cord.

I immediately understood why he'd been using it. The guy's skin was puffy and red. He was far beyond a tan. His dark hair was shaggy, hanging in locks over bushy eyebrows. It was shocking he could see. The style made me think of a nearly blind sheepdog we had back home.

"Yes," I said carefully, still unsure whether I should explain what Richard was. Giving too many details to a [Mundane] kid of a certain age led to the reality I was living out. I didn't want to be responsible for that.

“Is he your pet? I didn't know banana slugs existed here.” He watched Richard's tail wave in the wind, then grew suddenly self-conscious. He brushed the hair out of his eyes and gave me a grin.

”Hi, I'm…" he hesitated for a moment, "I'm Ash. You in for the raid?"

I extended my hand. "Cole. And yes, he’s my [Animal Companion]. We got here early, so my team split up to explore on a rare day off."

Ash nodded, his eyes still glued to Richard. My banana slug fascinated the kid.

I like him. He appreciates my natural glow.

I snorted.

Ash looked at me confused, so I explained, "Richard, that's the slug, is enjoying the attention. Not too many folks admire his, uh, look."

"Banana slugs are pretty common where I'm from. I just haven't seen one since I left. It's just nice to run into a piece of home. Are you really going to use him as bait?"

I frowned. This guy didn't have the accent of the mountains.

"Where are you from? You don't sound like you're from the frontier, and I thought fanged banana slugs were local only to the Hellentic Forest."

I let the string go a bit, feeling the weight of Richard. I didn't think we'd need a sinker. The slug was heavy enough. I reeled him up, pulling the hook tight to the tip of my rod, getting ready to cast.

Ash watched, eyes fixed on Richard. "Yeah, no, I'm from Oregon. Different region, pretty far away. Our slugs are not fanged, or sentient." I wasn't familiar with Oregon, but it wasn't like my dad’s map was all-inclusive. The continent was big. There were plenty of places in the world I didn't know about. I tilted my wrist back.

"Richard, are you ready?"

Yes.

With a long, studied snap of my wrist, I cast him out. The line ran from the rod, and everything looked good until a snag caught in the reel. With an utter lack of grace, Richard's momentum reversed, and he swung back towards us, smacking into the bottom of the boulder.

I winced.

Ouch. I thought you knew how to do this?

Ash was trying to be polite, holding back a laugh. I didn't bother, letting the chortle out. The problem was immediately obvious as the line had tangled in the reel mechanism. I started fishing it out, and slowly winding it back in. Richard just hung like a limp slug, bobbing in and out of the water as I worked to untangle everything.

"So, you have a party? You’re one of the [Adventurers] here for the Hunt?" Ash asked, watching me work.

"Yeah, two old friends and a new friend. Plus Richard, if you can count a slug."

I count more than any of you.

"That must be nice." Ash had grabbed the line, holding Richard up so he wouldn’t keep smacking into the wall. I didn't care. I almost had the snag out. The slug had volunteered for this after all.

Ash was glued to Richard. The slug fascinated him.

"You an [Adventurer]? Doing it alone?" He was very good or idiotic. Maybe both. There were many reasons no one tackled dungeons without a team. No build could handle all contingencies.

I swore, the reel had gotten worse.

"Yeah, I'm not the best at delves, but I have a few tricks. Mind if I help?" I nodded. He couldn't make the tangle any worse. "[Mechanical Fix]," Ash muttered a skill, and a blue weave of magic snaked up the line, straightening it out. It even fixed my inept tie to the hook. "Reel it in now. It should be good."

Turning the crank, I found everything was smooth. He'd single-handedly not only untangled the line, but the mechanism was smoother than ever.

Without even thinking about it, I muttered, "Wow, it'd be nice to have you around with that skill."

I looked down at the kid to thank him and immediately realized my mistake. A set of hopeful eyes looked up at me. "Really? You'd take me on?"

Now look what you've done.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 62: Homesick

We hoofed it to the Ceaparean Drift, eager to get to the zone before the event started. Being five days early meant that we had a luxury none of us had experienced really since becoming [Adventurers].

Down time.

Once Leo had shown the officials our invitation, they’d assigned us a camping spot in a copse of trees. The shade was welcome, as the Ceaparean Drift was essentially a desert.

"What are you going to do now that we've got camp set up?" Tandy asked as she strung up her hammock. We'd worked it out so that someone would babysit the camp while the rest of us could explore.

"I'm going to go see about getting some new gear. I still need some armor." Leo fingered his threadbare tunic. He’d left the pink sweater in his pack since the last dungeon.

My guilt got the better of me. "Here, take this." I threw him one of my two money pouches. Andrew had insisted I take some winnings from the dungeon after getting the long-term earnings assigned to the orphanage.

I’d kept it quiet from the girls.

"Hey, thanks, Cole. That'll help," he tossed the pouch up and down, weighing its worth.

Meredeath eyed me and tossed a small bag Leo’s way as well. Leo caught it deftly, grinning. Apparently, Andrew had been more generous than I knew. All three of us looked at Tandy.

She stood shaking her head as she tied the last knot on her hammock. "Sorry, I've got to keep the coins I’ve got left. I’ve been footing the bill for our travel."

I felt a spasm of guilt. I’d give her most of my other pouch later tonight.

It made sense, but she could have chipped in something. Just for show, in the spirit of Leo rehabilitation. Minimally, not to look like a jerk. That wasn’t Tandy’s style, though.

Leo shrugged. "I'm just grateful you all chipped in anything. This should really help." He opened up his own pouch and poured in our donations. Leo casually tossed our empty bags back to us. The blue-dyed leather pouch sat fat on his hip. "How about you two?"

I eyed Meredeath, seeing if she'd speak first. I shouldn't have bothered; she always held her cards close to her chest. She gave a fake shrug, as though she hadn’t already planned something.

“We are going fishing,” I said, patting Richard on the head.

We are?

I grinned at Richard's question as he sleepily raised his tentacles.

Leo raised his eyebrows.

"You are? That's..." his voice trailed off. I knew what he was thinking. That fishing sounded too much like home, too normal for our current life. And that's exactly why I was doing it. I needed a brief escape from the insanity of being an [Adventurer].

The road to the Ceaparean Drift had been long, dusty, and full of minor quests. The [Adventurer] life seemed to be a stream of boring, muddy roads interrupted by absolute terror. I needed fun.

"I know it's mundane. But I need a little slice of our old life. A day where the only goo I’m covered in is worm guts. I want to laze along that big ass river we passed and catch trout." It sounded whiny as it came tumbling out, but I was tired. Not tired in that all that was missing from my life was a nap, but homesick. Life-sick? Could I be life-sick for my old job as a glorified dishwasher?

"I think that's a grand idea." Tandy had climbed into her hammock as I was talking and gently swung back and forth. She yawned as she waited for the rest of us to leave. She was feeling the same weariness I was.

"I'm going to look for other-" Meredeath caught herself, her eyes shifting around to look at the other [Adventurer] campsites. "-others like me. With this many teams coming together, maybe there’s someone around."

Her reasoning made sense, and for her sake, I really hoped that she could find someone. I would not get roped into that search. After the night at the club, I would no longer just do whatever Meredeath wanted.

So I just nodded, returning to packing my fishing kit. I’d been planning this after consulting my dad’s map. I’d gotten a collapsible pole and some basic gear — thread, hooks, some fake bait.

"That's great!" Leo said, breaking the awkward silence. We were all feeling a little guilty that no one was going to help Meredeath, but we all needed a break from the quest life. In a sense, her quest was just a different version of my homesickness.

I watched and saw her eyes glisten. My heart broke a little. We hadn't run into another Traveler, only whispered rumors. Every town had a rumor, but none materialized when we investigated.

She'll be fine. Richard smacked his lips, still trying to wake himself up. She'll find someone eventually. Let's go fishing. What are you using for bait?

"I was going to dig for worms. Figured I'd scout the riverbank and find a suitable spot first, though. I've got a small jar of what looks like sausage bits that came with the hook kit." It wasn’t really about catching any fish; it was about fishing. I didn’t care whether I caught anything.

I shouldered my pole and walked away from the campsite. I’d made note of the tributaries as we’d walked into town. The Ceaparean Drift sat along a fairly large river called the Tigra. In the desert, the glacial-fed river was a lifesaver.

I just needed to hike upstream, above the camp. The latrines ran off into the river, and I’d had enough sewage in the last month.

I've got a better idea than old sausage. You find a spot and I’ll handle the bait.

Finding a spot was harder than I thought it'd be. I wasn't the only [Adventurer] who'd had the idea to spend a few aimless hours fishing. Each shady tree with a good vantage point of the river had a couple of souls already fishing it.

Richard sat on my shoulders, fully awake now. His tentacles extended actively tasting the air. The overcast weather was perfect for fishing. I just needed a spot to get my hook in the water.

"What about the rock over there?" Richard pulsed his body toward a large boulder I'd already examined and decided against. It sat in the river, with a ten-foot span of gushing water between me and the rock.

I was tired. I gave the boulder a second look.

If I could make it, the rock was big and flat, it’d be a prime spot. But I was never a good swimmer, and ten feet made me nervous.

"It’s too far." I started moving on when I felt Richard’s lips clasp my earlobe. I really hate it when he does this.

Noooo, it's perfect. He purred into my ear, one of his fangs catching on the sensitive skin and tugging my head in the boulder's direction.

"Come on, Richard, I still need to look for bait. I can't dig for worms on a boulder." I did not want to admit how worried I was about making the leap. Or how nervous the rushing water made me. I couldn't stop looking at the current; the water noticeably churned in the mini chute. The river was wide enough to fit two barges across, but in this spot, it narrowed enough to cause the already swift current to speed up.

Since jumping into the tidemaw I just couldn’t look at rushing water the same. Intellectually, I knew I had [Gills]. But the experience of drowning had stuck with me.

I’m going to be your bait.

I stood there dumbly with a tiny slug tooth embedded in my ear. Richard was going to be the bait? I hadn’t seen that coming.

"Won't you drown? Won't you get eaten?"

You still don't believe I'm [Immortal]? Think of me as one of those fake worms, the ones made of sinew and rope.

The general store I’d perused had some, but they’d been too expensive. Plus, why waste my money on expensive artificial bait when worms are free?

I'd seen enough over the last couple of months to back up Richard's ridiculous claim of [Immortality]. But I just couldn't believe it. It was too undignified.

Plus, true [Immortality] seemed a little too far-fetched. Damage resistant? Sure.

"I don't think this river has a fish big enough to eat you." There was no point in arguing with him on his own [Immortality]. That I had learned.

You've never fished in the Tigra, have you? There's fish that'd eat bait the size of you.

"That sounds like a tall tale." There was no way. It wasn't uncommon for Richard to indulge in exaggeration.

You need to see more of the world, Cole. There are fish as big as wagons out there. This river doesn't have any of them, but there are absolutely fish the size of a horse. And I'm great bait. I guarantee we'll catch something interesting.

I snorted, "There's no way. Besides, I couldn't pull a fish that big with this rod. I’d need a bigger hook. And I refuse to believe you're that tasty, even to a fish."

I'll take that bet, and if I win... I get my pick from your share of the next dungeon loot.

"Deal, and if we get a minnow..."

If we catch something mundane, I'll never lick your ear again.

"Deal!" I would do anything to get him to stop randomly licking my ear when he wanted my attention. I had found no leverage that outweighed his enjoyment of making me twitch. This would work nicely. I’d just wanted to fish; who cares if I caught nothing.

Now, let's hop over to that rock and go fishing. Stop thinking of that leap like you're a [Mundane]. You have stats now. Skills. Use one.

Right. I had skills. [Mind the Gap] would be perfect for this. I still hadn't gotten used to leveraging skills when we weren't in a dungeon or on a quest. I knew we were supposed to practice, but it was impolite to flaunt in front of [Mundanes]. Plus, it was stupid when the errant use of a skill could cause an accidental wound or death. Here, though, out in the wild, it would be fine.

I eyed the gap, took a breath. The edge of the bank ended in a rocky cliff, with the water rushing five feet below. The boulder was slanted at a forty-five-degree angle before flattening out. I went for it without thinking further. Backing up, I took five steps and ran.

I looked down as I came to the edge. The water hiccuped, sending up a small splash. A twinge of nerves shot through my skull just as I triggered [Mind the Gap]. The skill fizzed.

What the hell!

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 61: Red Tape

Richard was extra drippy.

“Alright, I found your slug. I’m going to head out.” Liv walked away, her hips swaying in her leather lace-up pants. A large part of me wanted to follow. Instead, I turned to my slug.

"Have a good time?" I asked Richard.

I did. That was a superior bathing facility. My sarcasm was lost on him.

"Welcome to the — Oh, it's you." The guild clerk's curiosity cut off abruptly. "The green room is open." He went back to his paperwork, studiously ignoring us.

"What door do we need to walk through to log a new dungeon?" Tandy asked quietly, arms crossed.

The clerk didn't bother raising his head. He just laughed.

"You and what army?" He dismissed us before we could even lay a claim. Tandy inhaled, ready to argue, but I had an idea.

"Andrew Ashborn, the famous [Wayfinder]." I took a gamble.

The man sat back, his chair creaking under his weight.

"You teamed up with Andrew, huh? Show me your [Party]," he commanded.

Tandy acquiesced, and I prayed Andrew hadn't dropped out of the party.

"Green door, if you come back with him, I'll let you through to red. You can talk to Monka about your so-called dungeon."

He returned to his paperwork. The ass.

We went downstairs to find the room full of wannabe [Adventurers]. I reworked my estimation of the first group of grungy rat tail collectors. They'd at least done some work. The crowd today was pristine. I doubt they'd stepped out of the walls or into the sewers once. They had well-greased unused swords, and their tunics were unstained.

Even I, a glorified slug locomotion apparatus, puffed up my chest feeling superior. The heavily-mustached barkeep eyed us as he served a customer. Tandy marched right up to the quest window.

"Are you here to turn in your quests?" The clerk behind the counter asked sweetly, dipping her book lower. I got the impression that very few [Adventurers] in the green room ever turned in quests.

"Uh, no," Tandy said, put off balance by the question.

"Well, I cannot issue you new quests until you've completed at least one of the two I gave you earlier." The clerk raised her book, A Stallion's Quest, promptly dismissing us.

Tandy looked ready to lunge through the barrier and strangle the woman on the spot.

I intervened.

"Monka, right? I had two queries unrelated to our quests that I was wondering if you could help us with."

She sighed, putting her corset buster book down and eyed me.

"That's what I'm here for, to teach young [Adventurers] the rules of adventuring. How can I help?" Her sarcasm was so thick that I wondered if she was related to Richard.

"Okay, well has the paperwork come through for [Your Mom's Party] yet? Are we [Sworn Adventurers] now?" I asked.

She gave me a thin smile, which I immediately took to mean no.

Before she could insult me with her response, I jumped to my real question, "Do we need to be [Sworn Adventurers] to log a dungeon in Eddie's Mill?"

"Tell me more about this dungeon in Eddie's Mill," Monka said, opening up a notebook.

Don't tell her another word until she agrees to log it.

Tandy moved forward as if she were going to talk, but I held up a hand signaling her to stop.

"How about we log this under [Your Mom's Party] first, then I can give you the details?"

Monka looked up, grinning as she closed her notebook, putting her pen down.

"Fine. The answer is no; [Sworn Adventurers] cannot log a dungeon as you are not yet part of the Adventurer’s Guild. The likelihood of a [Sworn Adventurer] finding a dungeon in Eddie's Mill is about as high as that slug on your shoulders being sentient. Good day, I think we're done here." She looked over at the bartender. "Gus, I'm taking 15 minutes, okay?"

Before I could say another word, she slid a curtain across the window, effectively ending the conversation.

"Well, that could have gone better." Meredeath was ever so helpful with her commentary.

"I guess we need Andrew. It's the only way they're going to believe us." It was hard not to see this as a setback. We were going to have to trek all the way back out to the orphanage... but then I realized that wasn't such a bad idea.

"I could just show them my invitation to the Hunt," Leo suggested.

"Nope, let's get Andrew. He can vouch for us as [Adventurers] too. I bet we'll be [Marked Adventurers] by the end of the day." We marched back up the stairs, not waiting for Tandy's opinion. I was going to take the entire crew to the orphanage. Leo and Meredeath would have a hard time ignoring their need if they saw it in person.

The walk was uneventful, but the arrival at the orphanage was everything I'd hoped.

"The Master of Mush!" Rust yelled, running out from under a tent. For once in my life, I didn't cringe at the title.

"Hey, Rust! Are Andrew and Eryn around?"

Leo and Meredeath looked wide-eyed at the canvas strewn about the front garden. Little pairs of eyes peeked out. It was easy to dismiss a situation you hadn't seen for yourself.

As we explained the situation to Andrew, he agreed readily to accompany us to the Adventurer's Guild.

It was Leo who pulled us up short.

"How about we go tomorrow? I think if Meredeath would get a few things from the market for us, there are a few things I could fix up." My tall friend squinted at the sagging soffit. "Do you have any tools or supplies like nails?"

Tandy looked at me, and I smiled. We'd cracked through. It'd been the first glimpse of the old Leo I'd had in a long time.

"Guess that means I need to get working in the kitchen," I chimed in, not missing the grateful smile from Eryn. "Come on, Rust. Let me teach you how to really clean a kitchen."

It felt good to be in a kitchen. Richard was amiable for once, using his [Clean] skill generously. After we finished cleaning, we were ready to start dinner, and I convinced Meredeath to use money from our purse to buy extra ingredients. They were going to have a robust stew tonight with homemade biscuits if I could time it all right.

I seared the meat, having Rust chase the salivating children from the kitchen. With a liberal application of pepper and a bubbling pot of carrots, parsnips, and potatoes, I pulled off a feast. The [System] must have been feeling generous, because I earned back one of my prized skills.

[You have gained the skill [Steady Temperature]. This skill aligns with [Adventurer]. You have an increased ability to control the temperature of any substance within your direct control.]

I went to bed that night with a smile on my face.

The next day, Andrew met us in front of the Adventurer's Guild. He wore his adventuring gear: scale mail over a tunic, a blue bandana, and his black ax strapped to his back. With a grin, he entered the building, smiling at the clerk.

"So, Kile, I hear we've been having problems with a new [Adventuring Party]?" He set his trap perfectly as we waited outside. He'd told us to follow him thirty seconds behind.

"Yeah, these idiots were throwing around your name yesterday--" Kile paused as we walked in behind Andrew. I didn't bother suppressing my grin.

"I see. You're talking about my [Adventuring Party], [Your Mom's Party]?" Andrew did a good job holding a straight face as the clerk floundered. Posturing in front of Andrew is a losing proposition, and I'll give him credit that he didn't bother trying. Instead, he waved us through to the red door as promised.

This door opened up onto a much more sophisticated space. It wasn't just a holding tank for hungry [Adventurers]. Instead, a small wooden greeting station sat empty, with a wait to be seated sign dangling. Tables sat empty in a common area. Surrounding the space were a door that looked like it led to a kitchen, a wall full of pinned quest cards, and what looked to be a closed shop with many armor, weapons, and other adventuring gear on display.

"Yeah, this looks about right. Now you guys know why I never come here." Andrew sounded tired. "Give it a minute, and Monka should pop up."

Sure enough, within a few minutes the clerk from downstairs walked in from the kitchen. There must have been a hidden servant’s staircase.

"So they are your friends after all? Talk about a plot twist!" Monka addressed Andrew, not bothering with an apology.

"Yep, the real deal. Can you open up the shop, and give us a consultation? We've got a few things to straighten out with the Guild." Andrew was all business.

Monka bobbed her head, leading us to a large table that looked more at home in some business suite. She sat us along one side, while she cranked up the iron curtain from the store.

"Is it okay if we do the business first? I've got a bunch of kids downstairs, and they'll get rowdy if it's only Randi down there." Monka sounded more like an exhausted professional, than the asinine bureaucrat we'd encountered yesterday.

"Sure," Andrew affirmed.

Today, Monka had used a wire headband to push her brown locks out of her face. She’d thrown on a formal Adventurer’s Guild uniform. Brass buttons sat neatly on her wrinkled vest. This was a sad show for the red door “official” [Adventurers].

She folded her hands in front of her, over an official-looking notebook.

"How can I help you today?" Her words were neat, trimmed of all emotion and opinion. The type of voice anyone working in customer service develops after years of practice.

"I have two official requests and a favor," Andrew began. "First, I would like to officially vouch for Leo, Tandy, Cole, Meredeath, and Richard as [Marked Adventurers]."

Monka nodded, looking from person to person before frowning.

"Who's the fifth member?"

"Richard, the [Fanged] banana slug." Andrew said calmly.

Can't an [Immortal] get any respect these days? I need a statue, Cole. A hundred statues. No, a thousand.

I hid my smile, imagining a city full of tiny little banana slug statues. One for every home.

"Of course," Monka opened her notebook, taking notes. "A [Pet]?"

I am not a [Pe—

"[Animal Companion]," I corrected her.

I’m an [Immortal]! Have her put down [Immortal]!

I gave Monka a polite smile, gritting my teeth as Richard railed against the fates that put him at the administrative mercy of a backwater hick.

"And, Andrew, you witnessed the passage of their [Trial Dungeon]?" Monka's pen sat waiting over her notes as she lifted her eyes to him.

"No," Andrew said. My heart dropped. Were we going to be held up by more red tape? "But I'd be willing to swear on my rank that I have firsthand witnessed acts of [Adventurers] that someone of a [Sworn] status could not complete. This group has passed their [Trial] and received full [System] classes and rewards."

Monka nodded, as though expecting his reply. Her pen scratched in the notebook.

"Very well, I'll lodge this with the central office." She looked at Tandy as though prepared for an argument. “Without the administrator from the Northeast Mountain District weighing in, it will still take a couple of days for them to formally approve this status change.”

"That may be a problem." Andrew forestalled Tandy's objections. "My second request is to log a new dungeon in Eddie's Mill and give the founder's credit to [Your Mom's Party]. If I understand the bylaws, however, that won't be possible until they're formally recognized as [Marked]."

Monka's eyes widened. "So, it's true?"

Andrew nodded.

Her pen sat above the book, ink pooling on the tip.

"What does it mean to have a dungeon attributed to the party?" I jumped in, sensing this was my moment.

"Having a dungeon attribution fulfills one of the requirements when seeking the next tier of [Adventurer] rank. There are also monetary fees collected by the Guild for monitoring those wishing to delve into the dungeon." Monka sounded as though she was mechanically quoting some [Adventurer's] rulebook. Maybe she was. "I expect the collected fees to be hefty, since this is the first new dungeon in our district in a hundred years. It could revitalize the Eddie's Mill Adventurer’s Guild."

The [System] had given me Faction Points, and I was pretty sure the Guild had nothing to do with assigning a [Hero] class, so I boldly continued.

"Is there any issue in attributing the discovery to Andrew? I'm assuming, Andrew, all monetary benefits would go to the Ashborn Orphanage?"

Even if my party had a complaint with the solution, no one from the [Party] would speak up against the grinning [Wayfinder] with tears in his eyes.

[Skill Upgraded: [Heartbeat] is upgraded to [Heart]. Not only are you the heartbeat of your team, but your empathetic nature extends to the world around you. Warning: you are more susceptible to seeing what you want to see in people, friend and stranger alike. This skill is passive.]

“Now we just have to take on the Ceaparian Drift Hunt,” I muttered, self-satisfied.

And solve Leo’s emo issues. Oh, and find some marble for my statues. Do you think the children would make good stonemasons?

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression: Chapter 60: What the Slug Giveth, He Taketh Away

"Where did she take him?"

"Gimi’s an alchemist in the Bath Quarter. He's probably fine. She does this sometimes, gets obsessive over an ingredient. The fumes have eroded her brains. I can take you to her place. My name is Liv. What’s your name, friend?" She stood, her body stretching unusually tall in front of me. I blinked. It had to be the drugs.

"My name's Cole." I tried to stand, but the world spun violently.

Liv signaled a server to bring two glasses of water. Sobering up was a good call.

This was turning into an awful night.

"I need to get back to Mistress Del's, get Meredeath." It was the oddest thing to hear myself mumbling but being unable to stop myself. How much of the sweet water had I drunk?

"You're one of Del's? You don't look her type. Crap." Liv snapped her fingers, and I watched as she talked to the server. They looked at me worried.

Suddenly Meredeath was there.

"What happened? Is he drunk?" She snapped her fingers in front of my face. I cringed shying away. "Oh, fuck, can't I just have one night off?"

Liv and Meredeath helped me up, and we staggered up the velvet stairs. The alley was dark and empty, and thankfully not too far from The Velvet Box.

The air smelled faintly of sewage and mint. Meredeath swore nonstop. I wasn't sure why Liv had latched onto us, but I wasn’t in a position to argue.

Leo'd been sleeping when we barged in. Tandy had been practicing. They both gave me a look of disgust as I sat heavily in bed, watching Meredeath and Liv explain what happened.

My mind wandered. The silence of the room after the club was deafening. They whispered to each other, debating a plan of action. My heart thumped distantly, stretched thin as it reached for Richard. He was alive. I knew that much.

I took off my vest. It was so hot.

"It's the sweet water. He's going to be naked soon if you don't stop him." Liv's voice rattled in my head. Was she talking about me? I started fumbling with the chaps. I just needed to change. The leather string fumbled through my fingers.

Leo batted my hand away. "Put this on, big man." He handed me my nightshirt as he helped with the chaps. No one had called me big man since I was a kid, and Floria's job had been to get all of us ready for bed in the loft.

"I'm not a big man. I'm an [Adventurer]." The words made sense in my head. An [Adventurer] was all grown up, not some puffed-up pretend version of an adult. Maybe I wasn't cut out for Meredeath, but maybe Liv was more my speed.

I blinked, realizing I'd been pointing at Liv. Fuck.

"Leo, take care of him, will you? We're going to move this conversation outside?" Tandy took control of the situation. She was cleaning up the mess. Reliable Tandy.

The girls left as Leo stripped me down.

"Did they leave because of me?"

Leo looked at me with, was it pity? Compassion?

"No, you're okay, man. It's just time for bed. We'll get your slug back tomorrow."

I looked at him and reached out, tugging at his beard like I'd seen Meredeath. He looked at me confused. I just patted his cheek and climbed up into the loft.

Distantly, I heard the door crack back open.

"He just climbed into your bed?" Tandy whispered too loudly.

"Yeah, after patting me in the face."

"Drugs do weird things."

"I guess."

Blissful oblivion took me.

The morning was not so blissful. I lay flat out on Leo's bed. Head probably right where his droop pile normally sat.

"Good morning." Tandy had pulled herself up, her head even with mine. She'd poked me awake.

"Please tell me I wasn't a complete idiot," I whispered. My face was burning as I realized I was naked except for my underwear.

"I can't do that, but I can tell you that you now own the top bunk."

Great. Failing up.

"Is it recoverable?" I'm not sure I'd recover my pride, but I had to figure out how to function.

"I mean, for you?" She teased. "Maaaybe… You're fine. Just get dressed before you come downstairs for breakfast. It's going to be a big day."

I came downstairs ready for breakfast.

"I mean, Richard is slippery. It's not all Cole's fault," Tandy said loudly, as I came up to the table.

"Yeah, plus you were there too, Meredeath. This is partially your fault," Leo chimed in.

I knew what they were trying to do. It made me feel better, anyway.

"So, what's the plan?" I gave a nod to Liv.

"We rescue Richard, then head to the Adventurers’ Guild to lodge a complaint and claim our dungeon." Tandy said matter-of-factly.

"I work with Mistress Del most nights, so she's tasked me with helping you. Besides, I want to get to the bottom of Gimi drugging you. The club is a safe space. Petty theft is one thing, but you were a helpless babe. If Gimi's drugging people that badly, I need to get her barred from the club. I mean, she should be barred anyway, but I'm not sure the twins are going to care about a missing slug," Liv explained.

"The twins?" I asked, my head still fuzzy.

"The barkeepers, the owners of the place." Liv was much too chipper for whatever o'clock in the morning this was.

So, Mr. Nipples was of the owners? I needed a new line of work.

"It's my new skill, [Gelatinous Regeneration]," I explained. "It decreases my [Poison Resistance]. On the one hand, I get drunk quicker. On the other...”

"... You get drugged quicker." Liv nodded. "That's a dangerous skill. Hopefully, the regeneration is worth it."

"Did you say gelatinous? You didn't tell me you’d picked up a new skill." Leave it to Tandy to latch on to the one thing I didn't want her asking questions about.

"Yeah, I picked up two after defeating the last boss." I darted my eyes to Liv, trying to redirect the conversation somewhere safer. "So, what's the plan?"

An hour later, I paced outside an alchemist shop waiting for my team members. My head throbbed. The sun was as bright as a flicker. Whoever invented sweet water deserved eternal boils.

Cole?

"Richard?" I shouted.

I'm in here.

"The alchemists?"

No, the spa.

I blinked. The spa? I looked around. Sure enough, a giant sign read Amidale's Spa Emporium.

"So you weren't captured?"

I was, but you think an alchemist in Eddie's Mill could hold me captive when the [Lich] Queen of Niyatgra couldn't?

The slug had a good point. I ducked into the alchemist's shop. Leo had Gimi pushed up against a wall. Tandy was holding a wooden cage, pointing at a slime pile.

"Guys, he's next door." The group looked at me. "Hi, Gimi. What are you going to offer us not to report you to the authorities?"

Oh, ask for a sample case. And get a jar of the dancing nettles. I could use that in my collection.

Collection? Was Richard an [Alchemist]?

"Uh, I could offer you a nice pouch of moon blossom?" Gimi offered.

Leo growled, shoving her harder against the rack. "And I could push you through this wall and send everything on this rack onto the floor."

The offer was insulting. The woman took one look at our group and assumed we were all partnered up.

"How about a sample pack, some of the white lace, a pack of yarrow, plantain, and all of your dancing nettles?"

Gimi's eyebrows knitted together as we started the negotiations.

We had an advantage. Leo applied pressure if Gimi got too stubborn.

We left Gimi's alchemy shop stocked with everything Richard wanted, and with a good start to my first aid kit.

Walking into Amidale's an attendant greeted us warmly. "Ah, such a large group this morning. What sort of service package can I offer you? We have baths, steam rooms, as well as a variety of treatments."

"I'm looking for my slug."

"Excuse me?" The lady was flabbergasted. I didn't blame her.

"I'm looking for a foot-long banana slug. His name's Richard," I repeated.

This got us escorted onto the street.

"Richard!" I called. “Come join us, or you're going to have to slug back to Mistress Del's on your own.”

Screams emanated from the baths as two half-naked customers came running out wrapped in towels.

The attendant was behind the counter with a broom aimed at Richard.

He was fluffed out, slowly undulating forward. His glistening skin was shiny, newly steamed, and no doubt abundantly moisturized.

Stepping forward, I pointed at Richard. "See? I told you my slug was in here."

I knelt down, picked Richard up and put him on my shoulders.

And that was how we ended up being banned from two establishments in one morning. Might as well aim for three.

Next stop: Adventurer's Guild.

Stumbling Up: A Loster's Guide to Progression - Chapter 59: Collared

My heart quivered as Meredeath pulled my hand down a set of narrow stairs.

I felt like Minvi, my first girlfriend, was pulling me into the field after school.

We were about to do something forbidden.

The walls of the stairs billowed out, made of a velvet that sensually caressed my bare arms. They'd put me in a leather vest, leaving my farmer's tan on full display.

The stairwell had been in a back alley of the Red Eaves district. Painted black, with dim pinpoints of light from the room above as our only illumination, it felt dangerous.

Meredeath squeezed my fingers as she got to the landing, a large ironclad door barring our way. She lifted a pale, dainty hand, knocking hard. A slit opened, revealing a dark face with white eyes. I tried to act cool. The man looked as if he was possessed.

Maybe that was the point.

He looked at me and shook his head. "You have the wrong club."

The slit closed sharply, dismissing us.

Meredeath looked at me, frowning as though to say What'd you do?

She knocked hard again. This time her hand flared with a green fire.

The slit opened again. The annoyed man said, "I told you..." His voice trailed off as he examined Meredeath's fiery green eyes.

"He's mine," she said. The statement felt like all the promise of the night rolled into one simple sentence.

Richard licked my ear.

Now you're mine.

I wiped the saliva off. For fuck's sake!

I didn’t want to bring the slug, but we all decided he couldn’t be left alone, and Tandy and Leo weren’t in the mood.

Richard had acquiesced to a bit of eyeliner, and Meredeath had even turned some of his black spots into mini skulls.

My brother, Hitch, used to follow Minvi and I around like an unwanted slimy chaperone.

"Fine, but there's a cover charge of one silver for him."

The slot closed as the sound of bars sliding filled the confined space. I didn't have any silver. Part of me was relieved the expedition was getting cut short.

The man stood, white eyes eerily contrasting in the dark foyer he stood in. His muscled arms crossed, with leather strips crisscrossed against his skin.

Meredeath smiled, she slipped a finger between her breasts pulling out a silver coin. I stopped myself from asking how she'd gotten it.

It was the same bedeviled smile Mivni’d had when she snuck a contraband flagon of ale into my loft that I’d gotten blamed for later.

The next day she hadn't defended me when I'd been accused of pilfering it. What could I say? They found the flagon in my loft.

The silver exchanged, the man eyed me once more. He shrugged, as though abdicating all responsibility for my fate. He closed the door behind us, sliding the bars into place.

Who were they trying to keep out? Because if it were me? I could be okay with that.

This is going to be good.

I highly doubted it.

The inner door swung open, introducing me to magically enhanced club music for the first time. The beat was heavy, as a flicker triggered. They usually reserved flicker light shows for large outdoor festivals. This one was blinking a hundred times a minute indoors. I tried not to look directly at it, my eyes already beginning to see spots.

We were standing on a platform. A catwalk of sorts above a cavern. I should have expected the club would be underground, considering how much the city leveraged the caverns. Stalagmites reached up from the ground, casting shadows into the dark corners. Cages dangled from the ceiling, containing scantily clad dancers who gyrated to the music.

I almost asked if they needed rescuing, but Meredeath pulled me down the stairs towards the bar.

The squeeze was tight, and the smell of patchouli heavy.

My stomach clenched with unease.

Minvi’d moved in quickly after her parents kicked her out, my tiny apartment squeezed tight with the two of us.

I survived that summer.

I could do this.

I walked, the winged shoulders of my vest providing a perfect platform for Richard. He'd adjusted his spotting to darken, matching the aesthetic of the place. My eyelids itched with smoky eyeshadow. I refrained from touching my eyes, constantly in fear of smudging Meredeath's work. Looking around, I didn't stand out as much as I'd feared. The place was full of people of all shapes and sizes. The only similarity seemed to be a propensity for black.

Several folks seemed to hold minor multicolored flickers dancing around, burning the image of flashing lights into my retinas.

"Let's get a drink!" Meredeath shouted towards me. She didn't have to say that twice.

Two topless, skinny men manned the bar. One had his nipples pierced while the other flexed his pecs, shaking a drink.

"What do you want?" The nipple bartender asked as we leaned over the counter.

Meredeath pulled another silver from her bra and ordered a martini. She pointed at me.

"I'll take a beer." I coughed out.

And a hot pepper.

"And a hot pepper. The hotter the better." The guy gave me an odd look. I pointed at the slug. He shook his head as though he'd had stranger requests.

"A beer, really? We're supposed to enjoy ourselves." Meredeath yelled, leaning back against the bar as she scanned the dancers. I tried to mirror her nonchalance, awkwardly leaning against the bar trying not to make eye contact with any of the dancers.

The music changed. This time it was high-pitched. I could feel Richard's slime vibrate in time with the screeching tune. I really tried not to wince, but I'm sure I looked miserable.

Meredeath looked at me and sighed, "I knew this was a mistake."

I opened my mouth to argue. To lie, but was confronted with a mental flash of Minvi ambushing me.

I knew you were a mistake. Minvi said as she left the last time, slamming the door after we'd fought about money.

I just nodded at Meredeath. No part of this night was in my comfort zone, but I was an adult. She could have her fun without me.

"I'm fine. Don't let me stop you from having fun. I'm just going to have my beer and then I'll go." The words tasted like defeat.

I smelled a hint of lavender for months after I’d found out Minvi’d been cheating on me. Leo and Tandy had saved me, circling in, trying not to tell me they’d told me so.

Meredeath's martini arrived. She deftly plucked an olive off the toothpick and held it out for Richard.

I watched in disgust as he ate the salty snack, foaming as it hit his slime. From what I could tell, his eating pickled food was a bit like a human eating a lemon. Sour, and weirdly pleasant in small quantities.

My beer came with a hot pepper split like an orange wheel perched on the side of my mug.

I took a quick sip. The beer tasted like the ghost of Richard’s pepper floated in the foam. Sheep-cursed slug and his pepper fetish. I quickly removed it, handing it off to Richard.

"You sure you're okay?" Meredeath asked one last time.

"Yeah, I'll just go sit over there," I said, squinting as I pointed to a small empty booth. She nodded, eyes already on the dance floor. She'd found a giant bear of a man who'd dyed his red beard black and braided one side with a white skull bead dangling. How could I compete with him?

I shimmied over along the side of the room. The space behind the stalagmites seemed reserved for couples. My face burned as I got a glimpse of two women making out, clothes in disarray.

"Ten-minute break!" a voice called from above as the flicker and music cut. Dim lights snapped on, which, from the groans of the crowd, might well have been dawn.

I quickly grabbed an empty table before it got snapped up, putting Richard on the table with his pepper. Dull clangs sounded while the stagehands lowered the cage dancers to the floor. The male dancers wore nothing but jockstraps and glitter. The women looked like they'd lost a battle with a pair of fabric scissors. Everyone glistened with sweat, oil, and sparkles.

Replacement dancers jumped into the cages. They waved, blowing kisses at the crowd as the cages lifted into the air.

"New here?" a girl slid into the booth across from me. She had pointy ears and short spiky hair.

"How'd you guess?" I said dryly.

“I have never seen a slug walk in before.”

I laughed. Gods, it felt good to laugh.

Richard raised his head, the butt of the hot pepper hanging out of his mouth like a cigar.

You laughing at me?

"Yeah, banana slugs are probably rare in the city."

"Did you know their slime has numbing properties?" She looked at Richard with a glint of avarice.

"You are an alchemist?" I asked. I wasn't anxious. If she stole a little of Richard's slime... well, he left it everywhere.

She leaned forward trying to get a closer look at Richard and bumped my beer. It sloshed over the side.

"Oh sorry, here, let me dab that up." Almost magically, she produced a cloth napkin soaking up the mess. "Yeah, I'm an alchemist of sorts. I just haven't seen a slug like this specimen. Mind if I grab a glob of slime?"

"Go right ahead." I waved at Richard, giving her permission. He didn’t seem to mind. She took out a spoon and scraped a bit of slime into a bottle.

"Much obliged!" With a nod, the woman was off.

I took another sip of my beer. The music kicked back up. The noise and flashing slammed into my psyche. I focused on Richard, his tentacles bouncing in rhythm. I could see the slime vibrating off his skin, puddling under his body. Glancing out into the morass of tight leather and naked chests, I caught a glimpse of Meredeath on the shoulders of the mountain man holding onto the bottom of a cage as it swung in the air.

Nipples, the bartender, was yelling, “Down, witch!”

Meredeath blew him a kiss to the crowd’s amusement. She did not get down.

She's just your type.

The problem was that Richard was right. Sarcasm aside. Meredeath was mysterious. Dark. I didn't understand her. Minvi was similar, in a Woodsten way. She had a dark streak, a daring edge that drew me like a moth to the flame. I just wanted to know what it was to let go.

My back was firmly locked in place. I took another sip of beer. For a cavern, it was boiling down here. Self-introspection did that.

My head bounced along with the music. The only experience I had with dancing was the prancing ribbon dance of our Maypole festival. The vest had dug in at my armpit, and the chaps I'd thrown on over my normal pants creased awkwardly against the back of my knees.

I'm sure if I told Meredeath she'd just laugh and tell me the pants weren't meant for sitting.

My beer was hoppy and spicy.

"You shouldn’t drink any more of that." An androgynous individual slid into the booth across from me. Couldn't a man just have a beer with his slug?

"And why not?" I asked, unimpressed with the person's claim. They had delicate features outlined by the makeup everyone else was wearing. A bull ring looped through their nostrils, and the poetic sliced eyebrow raised at my tone.

"Gimi, she dosed your beer with sweet water."

The room tilted. “What’s it do?”

“Loosens you up. Makes you less aware,” he said. She said? I couldn’t tell.

Honestly, both sounded… tempting. I reached for the mug. My hand danced in the lights.

They leaned forward, their vest split across a small but feminine chest covered by a sheer blouse.

She whispered conspiratorially, "I think it's what allowed her to take your slug."

My vision spun as I saw a smear of slime and the butt of a pepper. No Richard.

My stomach dropped through the cavern. “Richard?”

Desk of Reck: Interview with PopPop

Join me Thursday for a Live interview with PopPop on @ChattinStats on Youtube.

We're going to be diving into it with one of the biggest fans behind the genre: PopPop.

We'll dive into things like:
How long is PopPop's TBR?
How does he keep track of every litrpg discord under the sun?
What are his plans for PopPop's world?

He's everyone's PopPop, and one of the original members of the cornucopia. Come celebrate all things PopPop, and bring your audience questions!

Podcast will be livecast (and recorded). Join us Thursday at 8PM EST on www.youtube.com/@ChattinStats !

Thanks!
Reck

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 58: Family Meeting

As family meetings go, the setup for this one could have been exponentially worse. Lunch wasn't a busy time at The Velvet Box, so we had a large booth to ourselves. Mistress Del had even given us a full spread for lunch.

Apparently, she’d been grateful for the closure we’d provided.

Everything was great until Tandy revealed she’d donated most of our [Dungeon Treasure Chest] to the orphanage.

"You did what?" Leo exclaimed, bits of biscuit flying out of his mouth.

Tandy looked at him as though he was a barbarian. Reddening cheeks betrayed the sense of guilt she felt. She went on the offensive.

"You weren't there. The children were living in canvas tents, eating burned gruel for breakfast." Tandy didn't bother mentioning who'd made the gruel. Little Rust had told me it'd been the best-tasting breakfast they'd had in a while, so I kept my commentary to myself.

"But we were going to use that to gear up for the hunt." There was a flatness in Leo's voice that brooked no argument. He was pissed. And I realized there would not be a compromise that didn't involve going to the Hunt with Leo. The orphanage needed help, but I was going to have to be creative in how I executed it.

"We can still make it to the Ceaparean Drift in time, even without the money. It’s what, three weeks to get there? And we've got a little under five before the Hunt starts? Plenty of time to work a few jobs along the way. Plus, Tandy, you kept some coinage, right?" I said the words knowing that Andrew was going to insist we keep something. He'd taken on the plight of the orphanage himself, and he'd already thought any donation was too much from a fledgling [Adventurer] party.

"I've got two golds worth, twenty silver," Tandy admitted. It wasn't a ton when spread across four [Adventurers] and an [Immortal] mollusk, but it was a lot more than we'd had entering Eddie's Mill.

Leo looked as though he'd bitten a lemon.

"You gave it all away?" The anguish in his voice seemed mismatched with Tandy's actions.

"These were kids, man. We'd never let kids live in those conditions in Woodsten." I left unspoken what I was hinting at. No one had let him live in those conditions once he became an orphan. Not that Uncle Artie was an upstanding citizen, but Leo'd had a roof over his head and food on the table.

Leo looked at me, his eyes blazing. Message received.

"Look," Meredeath jumped into the conversation, putting a hand on Leo's arm. "I'm not thrilled with our wealth evaporating, but we've still got the ability to make it to the Hunt, and we've got free room and board, so we can earn more before we leave. We've got options here."

Tandy and I exchanged a look. Meredeath wasn't helping our end goal.

"So if we've got a week before we leave, what do we do with the time?" Leo asked.

I want a spa day.

"Do spas even allow slugs in?" Meredeath asked, eyebrows raised. She was obviously egging Richard on.

The four of us looked at Richard, who sat idly in front of a bowl of leafy greens. He was gumming a sprig of dandelion absently. He didn't bother replying to the jab.

"Well, thanks for that suggestion. Anyone else?" Tandy prodded.

"I think we should log the new dungeon with the Adventurers’ Guild. There's got to be a reward for finding a new dungeon." This idea came from Meredeath of all people.

"How about you, Cole?" Tandy probed. I knew what she wanted me to say.

Glancing at Leo, I put my heart on the table. "I want to help the orphanage. The house is falling apart. If we focused on fixing it up, it could really turn things around. Honestly, I thought about suggesting we stay here and help make a real difference." Leo opened his mouth to object, so I rushed the rest. "But I know how important it is for you to go to the Hunt. For us. I just want to do as much for the kids as we can before we leave."

I put my cards on the table.

"We can barely take care of ourselves, much less an entire orphanage?" Meredeath asked. She wasn't wrong, I just didn't think she'd take a hard line against 'helping orphans.' I was about to say so, but Tandy stopped me.

"Don't you feel the need to help?"

"It's not our problem. We didn't create it. This is an Eddie's Mill problem that the general populace is turning a blind eye to. No matter what we do, unless we dedicate our lives to the solution, it's only going to be a temporary fix." Meredeath used her fingers to emphasize each point, the edges of her black nails poking my heart. She wasn't wrong.

"Okay, so how do we get Eddie's Mill to care?" Tandy asked quietly, unwilling to let it go.

"Mind if I join you?" We'd been so focused on our conversation, no one noticed Mistress Del sneaking up on the table. Before anyone could respond, she pulled up a chair at the end of our booth and sat down heavily. "I can leave you be, but it sounds like you've stumbled upon an 'Eddie's Mill problem that the general populace is turning a blind eye to?’ Sounds like my kind of problem. Lucky for me, [Overhear] is a skill of my trade." She made no genuine apology for eavesdropping. Meredeath met her eyes with determination. The older woman calmly just asked, "Can you tell me about this orphanage?"

With the question, all the tension at the table melted. Meredeath looked away, tracing cracks in the wooden table as we explained.

Tandy gave me a quick grin of triumph. Both of us had hoped to bring Mistress Del into the plight of these kids. We already knew she had a soft heart, just from taking us in. Tandy and I fell over each other filling the Mistress in on the details of Eryn, Andrew, Mira, Rust and the rest of them. Even Leo softened a bit when I talked about the state of the house and Richard spending two hours just cleaning the kids up.

Mistress Del asked questions calmly, drawing out possibilities we hadn't considered. At the end of the conversation, we didn't have answers, exactly, but we had direction, an immediate plan that didn't involve Leo rushing off by himself or the abandonment of the town's orphans. Tomorrow we were going to visit the Adventurer's Guild to see what the payout was going to be for the dungeon, then bring the Mistress, Leo, and Meredeath by the orphanage.

"Well, I'm glad that's settled," Meredeath said abruptly, as though she'd been bored the whole time. "I'm going to hang out with some new friends. I'll see you all in the morning?"

"It's only settled if we leave on time," Leo said, giving us a steely gaze over his mug. He was like a dog with a bone. Nothing was going to stop him from making the Hunt. I was looking forward to it too, but it'd taken on a deeper meaning for him. Like an adventuring lifeline.

"Yeah, Leo. We hear you. We're going to go to the Hunt." I turned to Meredeath as she stood to go. "Want some company?” The look she gave me made me immediately regret asking.

"You're welcome to join me, but I'm not sure it's your scene." I got the impression she was offering out of obligation.

My heart clenched. Was I going to be brave and go with her? With the possibility of being an unwanted third wheel? Did I back down and stay with Tandy and Leo? Safe, but an outsider to this separate world Meredeath was a part of?

I jumped off the cliff.

It was time to find out what else was in the world, and it started with Meredeath.

It was time to jump — to say yes.

"Yeah, no. I want to go." The words came out less confidently than I had hoped, but I'd said them. I'd taken the leap.

Meredeath and Mistress Del exchanged a look.

"He's going to need different clothes." Mistress Del said, her nose upturned at the state of my Woodsten wool. "And some accessories."

Meredeath's eyes twinkled with mischief as she responded, "Do you have anything we could borrow?"

"Oh, honey, the lost and found has better options than this." She waved at me. The two leaned together, talking conspiratorially. Tandy rolled her eyes, scooting to get out of the bench. She was, no doubt, off to practice. Leo sat sipping his beer, looking amused.

"You want to come with us?" I asked him hopefully.

Leo smiled, taking another draft. "No, I think I'll stay here. You asked for this, bro." He leaned back, watching as the two women batted about several options, from a fishnet tank top to an eyebrow piercing.

"Eyeliner?" I blurted out, overhearing one suggestion they'd settled on.

I think eyeliner is going to be the least of your concerns. You're going to be wearing a collar by the end of the night.

Oh fuck. I wasn't sure if I'd agreed to a date, a trap, or public humiliation. Odds were good it was going to be all three.

I wonder if they’ve got a leash I could hold?

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 57: No Statues for Slugs

"Cole, those kids need our help." Tandy wasn't wrong.

The kids needed help, no argument there. But what could we do?

Also, Leo was invested in the Hunt. My [Heartbeat] skill pulsed with his need to prove himself. If we didn't go it was entirely possible he'd go without us, and our team would effectively end. There had to be a solution that wasn't just one or the other.

"The invitation, though," I said what we were both thinking.

"I know." Tandy was at a loss as I was. Almost three dozen kids lived in that orphanage. Even with Andrew's help and our dungeon loot, it would not be enough. Not long term. Even if we stayed and tried to help, I wasn't sure it’d be enough.

"Richard, do you have any ideas?" It was a shot in the dark.

I think they should invest in a bathtub.

Gods be damned, slug, I don't know why I ever asked his opinion on anything.

"I talked to Andrew while you were cooking. Apparently, pop-up dungeons have become a thing. He's heard a couple of reports through the [Wayfinder] network of towns getting overrun. It's enough to have me worried about Woodsten. Team Abs wouldn't know the first thing to do about finding a dungeon. The Adventurer’s Guild has been noticeably silent. It's the small towns that are suffering." Tandy was spiraling.

She was stuck on it all. Which was great because now we had a third option to add to our list of things we needed to worry about.

"You're not helping." I countered.

We were walking back to Mistress Del's to consult with Meredeath and Leo, our bags significantly lighter. Andrew had insisted we keep a little of the coinage for 'emergencies.' He sounded like my dad.

The Ashborn have always figured out a way to survive. I'm not sure why the two of you think the dungeon outbreaks are your personal problem.

Tandy paused in her next footstep. She turned, looking at Richard.

"Is that how you've sat out the last five hundred years, [Immortal]? It's 'not your problem'? The world struggled with the cataclysm for decades, but that wasn't your problem. If you're even [Immortal]." Tandy stomped off.

I’d never looked at Richard’s theoretical [Immortality] with that lens, probably because I’d never taken it seriously. Tandy was kind of right, for all that it cut.

It wasn't my problem because I couldn't fix it.

We both stared after her as her boots hit the pavement hard enough to cause heads to turn. Her nettle cloak flapped behind her braids. People parted, giving wide berth to her stormy countenance.

"Tandy hasn't met a problem she won't try to own," I told Richard.

Yeah, fair. What buzzed up her skirt?

I smiled. For all of his wisdom and snark, he still had a long way to go before he understood Tandy. You couldn't tell her something wasn't her responsibility. If she was bent on fixing something, it was going to get fixed. Either that or she was going to torture herself and everyone else around her with it. Tandy didn't understand the idea of can't.

I didn't bother rushing after her. Andrew had given us pretty clear directions back to the Red Eaves district. I was going to enjoy a bit of freedom in a new city. Besides, I wasn't in a hurry to have an uncomfortable conversation with Leo.

Eddie's Mill turned out to be much easier to navigate once I took the time to learn it. My internal map had filled in. The central mill and market formed the city’s center, with the rest of the city extending like spokes on a wheel. I passed a flower shop, looking in the window at a collection of fresh-cut and potted flowers. Part of me wanted to pick out a bundle and bring it back to Eryn, to give a little joy to her and the children.

Something about the orphanage had caught my imagination. A different life, a left instead of a right. Fixing up the house with a fresh coat of paint and maybe fifteen room additions for all the souls camped out in the yard. Running the dungeon with Andrew and bringing home the loot.

So, do you have a plan for practicing your skills yet? Richard's question rudely interrupted my daydream.

Uh, nope. I hadn't really considered it.

You need to have a plan.

I started walking quicker. This didn't sound like a conversation that I wanted to have either.

"You’re suggesting I kill myself once a day?" A passerby on the street gave me a side-eye as I talked with my mollusk. I gave them a quick, reassuring smile. They frowned harder and quickened their pace. I guess it was an unusual thing to say to oneself.

I'm suggesting you make a plan for each of your skills, including that one.

"That one? The one that just morphs me into something a little less human each time I use it?" I murmured, this time trying to avoid attracting the notice of another passerby.

Richard didn't respond immediately.

"Don’t think I haven’t thought about this. I’m talking to a sentient slug with what I’m assuming is a similar class.” I let my words sit uncomfortably between us. “What is the natural conclusion to this class? Is [Cheat Death even a skill I want much less want to practice?”

The slug on my shoulders sat unusually quiet.

Strolling through the city window shopping, I smelled spices coming from restaurants and bakeries. I even stopped on a street corner to chat with a young mother and her snuffling kid. It was a wonderful moment to be alive. To be the gelatinous, partial amphibian pet of a slug who could reasonably be mistaken for a human.

"How are we even going to have this conversation with Leo?" I changed the subject. I wasn't really irritated at Richard. I was just feeling trapped. "Excuse me, Leo, but we're going to pass on your ticket to the Hunt, because we've got a houseful of children to feed?"

That's a rhetorical question, right?

I didn't bother replying. His opinion wasn’t what I wanted. I just needed a moment.

At the next square, I moved out of the flow of pedestrians. The town square held the local well and a small manicured park space. This one held a dark onyx obelisk almost three meters tall. I walked over to it, reading the inscription. It recounted the feats of those who fell in one battle of the cataclysm. The names etched on the obelisk were old, forgotten.

It was likely we'd be forgotten much sooner than these lost souls.

Elasira Penragon. Richard's mental voice knocked me out of my introspection.

"Excuse me?"

Elasira, she was friendly. Had golden hair that glowed in the sun. She loved to play practical jokes.

"Okaay, context would help." As I said the words, my eye fell on the list of names.

Lira Hesa, Rsan Talon, Elasira Penragon.

The three Heros of Eddie’s Mill.

The inscription followed with dozens of more names, but hers was third on the list.

That's the problem with caring when you live as long as I have.

A cloud passed over the sun, threatening an early drizzle. I stared at the name. Perspective was a bitch.

"That would be... tough."

I sat on a bench as the first raindrops fell. Richard curled in on himself. For the first time in a while, I felt completely alone.

You’ll note you have seen no statues of slugs.

“You’d have to be heroic to have a statue.”

Heroic and dead, of which I’m guilty of neither.

“Glad I’m in good company.”

We sat for ten minutes, an hour, I wasn't sure. But it hadn't rained enough to get me soaked, just enough to make my gills flex comfortably.

Our introspection was broken with an unrequested [System Notification]:

[Quest Complete: [Missing].

The mystery of Mistress Del's missing ladies has been solved. Meredith Steele has turned in the ring as proof, and the party has received free room and board for the month. Additional rewards may be granted upon talking to Mistress Del. Adventure Onward!]

Tandy and Meredeath must have returned to The Velvet Box and delivered the news to Mistress Dell.

An idea blossomed in my head. Maybe we could reroute Mistress Del’s reward to the orphans. We were going to head to the Hunt and wouldn’t need it. And she was a bit of a softie. Something to consider.

I turned towards the Red Eaves district. It was time to sit down and have a good old family meeting.

Floria would laugh at me if she knew I was going to play the unpopular head of the household. Gods help me, she’d be right to laugh.

Desk of Reck: Stumbling Up Book 1 Complete! Celebrate!

[Rough Transcription]
Hey everybody, I thought I would just drop a quick video note for all of you. Last night, if you're on Discord, you saw I finished Stumbling Up Book One. The draft is done. Hallelujah. I'm catching up on the Patreon posts here. You'll see a bunch of getting posted the next day or two.

I've been sprinting hard. Prior to DragonCon I was writing trying to get to the chapters I'd written of the end of the book. I made it earlier this week. The last couple days I've spent revamping all those chapters. Adding a bit more content and an extra chapter or two.

So yeah, I've got some quick edits based on my beta reader feedback and I'll get it off to my editor.

What this means is that on Royal Road, we're going to be stubbing this fall, probably late October, early November. And I'm going to be launching the physical, the Amazon Kindle Unlimited version and the narrated version by Richie and Jessica. So very excited. I'm looking forward it all. This will be the first time I've gone through the narration process.

And I just I'm excited to see that energy that Jessica and Richey bring to the characters. Listening to Richard voiced and the characters coming to life. It's going to be awesome.

Yeah, so celebrate! Do the confetti cannon thing! Then it's back to work for me going through edits. So this is what a author that has been up for like three days in a row trying to finish the manuscript looks like.

Just thank you for all of you for being along for the ride.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 56: Refugees

Exiting the dungeon turned out to be a lot simpler than entering the dungeon. Now that we had defeated the creature controlling the dungeon, our mapping interface unlocked, showing the true extent of the maze. Traps were showed as disabled and the exit portal clearly marked.

The exit dumped us into an alleyway in the professional district, skipping the whole underground tunnel network. I can't describe how relieved I felt to breathe in fresh air and feel the heat of the morning sun on my face. The dungeon had a wet-blanket closeness that my gills loved but that had kept me on edge the entire dive.

Also, I didn’t miss the stench of the fat berg.

Meredeath handed a sleeping Richard back to me. The joke was on him. She didn’t want to babysit him.

She peeled off to go back to The Velvet Box. I wasn't going to think too hard about why she was in such a hurry.

Richard had moved from messy drunk to sleepy drunk. He curled around my neck, filling my ear with soft snores.

Andrew led us away from the city center and business district. Foot traffic had picked up in the city as commerce began. Little did they know, a dungeon had been boiling beneath their feet, on the verge of an outbreak.

Andrew held Mira's hand as they wove between kids on their way to school and servants on the way to the market. We walked right past the giant windmill at the heart of the town, the giant sails creaking as they slowly rotated.

"Fish! Fresh fish!" A stall owner cried.

"Dried fish! Nothing fresh comes from the Niyat River!" the neighbor stall shouted.

"Ah, for fuck’s sake, who the hell put their stalls next to each other?"

Andrew and Mira were unfazed by the noise and the bustle of the market. They took us further north into a residential district. Homes started off grand with staircases framing a front second-story entrance. Butlers stood on the second-story balconies silently judging all those who walked by.

We kept walking past the squares with fountains touting war heroes and politicians. The buildings got taller but less grand. Paint chipped, the soffit sagged, and overgrown bushes decorated small front gardens.

"We almost there?" Tandy asked. We'd split the loot between our bags, but it was getting heavier with every step.

"Almost." Andrew sounded tired. We walked past a couple of burned-out buildings, the brick garden walls the only reminder of the home. The wealth and the business of the central city gave way to quiet, unkempt gardens and weedy walkways.

I bumped into Andrew's back as we arrived at the orphanage without announcement. Before us, a high rock wall loomed, separating the neighboring properties. A loud screech pierced my ears as Mira wrenched the heavy gate open with all her might.

Where the hell am I?

“Orphanage,” I whispered.

Meredeath! The betrayal. He tucked his tail tight against my neck, a sure sign he was pouting.

The front garden resembled a tent city, with canvas draped over almost every inch. Hungry little eyes poked out to look at the newcomers. A stone pathway between tents wound its way to the front entrance of a modest-looking two-story row home. Oddly, the front door was the same color as Andrew’s armor. It had the traditional deep blue trim that showed all were welcome. Whispers surrounded us as we walked the path.

Any doubts I'd had about donating our dungeon run's wealth had evaporated with the look of little grubby faces.

This is shameful, Richard said. All drunkenness and betrayal forgotten as he extended his tentacles to look at the tents.

Mira marched right up to the front door and threw it open. "Mother! We've got guests!"

"I don't need any more guests," came a grumbling response from the kitchen.

The house was old styled with tall wooden baseboards and a cramped stairwell that hugged the wall. Normally, the room would have been a living room wrapped around the central fireplace. Here, a giant wooden table sat with enough seating for at least two dozen. A teenager stood trying to wrangle two toddlers into a highchair.

"I think you'll want to meet these two," Andrew said, moving to help the struggling teen. It was incredible to watch his warrior ways fade as he gently grabbed one toddler and slotted their legs effortlessly into the wooden holes. The kid began crying, having lost her game of 'I don't fit' in one smooth motion. Having both watched and experienced that particular challenge with my own younger siblings, I wondered if Andrew had a skill he'd used.

"Do you know how many mouths I have to feed, Mira? Wait. Mira, is that you?" A matronly woman came out of the kitchen. She was thin in an oversized food-splattered apron. Brown and gray frizzy curls haloed her head, giving an unkempt appearance. She held a wooden spoon in one hand as though she were used to wielding it on food and misbehaving children alike. "Andrew, you found her?" The relief in the woman's voice was easy to spot as she moved to a column of loving caregivers in my estimation.

Mira ran to her, wrapping her in a tight hug around the waist. The woman’s face transformed from plain to beautiful, smile lines and bright teeth as she lifted Mira up and squeezed her.

"Is that gruel you're cooking?" I asked, spotting a bit of mush stuck to the spoon. "If so, why don't you let me take over in the kitchen so you can have a reunion?"

The woman looked at my ratty appearance on the verge of declining when Andrew stepped in. "Eryn, it's okay. This is Cole, Tandy, and the slug is Richard. They're [Adventurers] that helped me find Mira."

With a frown, Eryn handed over the spoon. "Just don't burn it. I can't listen to them complain about a burned breakfast all day."

I grinned. "It's been a long time since I burned any gruel. Richard, can you give me a [Clean] to start?"

Richard obliged, my hands glowing a golden yellow as all traces of the day melted away.

"Oooh! Can you do that to meeee?" Mira ran forward, hopping up and down.

What am I now, a child washing station? Put me on the table. He sighed as though he'd done the math and knew what the rest of his morning was to entail.

I put the grumpy slug down, smiling as Mira started to glow. Grabbing the spatula from Eryn, I went back into the kitchen.

Whatever skills Eryn had in being a caregiver for a hoard of children, it was obvious cooking wasn't at the top. The kitchen was messy and sticky. Several large pots of gruel sat on the stove.

A bored looking kid sat on a stool by the tinderbox. While I was watching, he opened the side of the oven and stuck another sliver in. It made sense that they couldn't afford a magical stove, but heat control was nonexistent when you just had a child shoving as much fuel in the firebox as could fit.

"Hey, what's your name?" I asked, grabbing an apron draped over a cabinet. It was always easier to get a child to do what you wanted when you knew their name.

The boy looked up at me with wide brown eyes. "Rust, they call me Rust."

I hoped that wasn't his real name, but when he didn't provide another, I went with it. Applying the spoon to a pot, I quickly started stirring, realizing it was seconds from burning.

"Okay, Rust. You're working with the Master of Mush today," I couldn't help but smile. Funny how perspective worked. "Stop feeding the oven. Can you stand on that stool and get a better view up here? I'm going to teach you how to stir. Did I see apples in the pantry?"

“You want me to stir?” He looked up at me as though I was trusting him with the key to the city.

“Absolutely! If you can fill the tinderbox, you can stir!” I tried sounding upbeat, my favorite tactic with children. The truth, however, is I was pretty sure the gruel was already burnt. The faster we got him away from the tinderbox, the more chance I had to salvage it.

We got to work. Rust stirred while I cored and chopped some apples. I found some old cinnamon sticks that I grated into the boiling pot. The kitchen started smelling like a proper breakfast was in the works. Several curious children popped in asking questions. None stayed longer than my promise that breakfast would be ready soon.

The house, however, started waking up with the smells.

"You used the last of our apples, did you?" Eryn asked as she came in to check on our progress. She sounded tired. "I guess Mira's return is worth celebrating, but you used the last of our cinnamon too. You work in a restaurant where food wasn't tight?"

I felt every fiber of her exhaustion, even if I internally cringed at her judgement. It was the same voice my mom used after a long winter, when the pantry was looking bare.

"Aye, my apologies. Was trying to spice it up a bit. Has Tandy talked to you about our donation yet? Where do you keep your dishes? I'll start serving everything up. How many mouths do we have to feed?"

Eryn studied me for another long moment before replying, "Thirty-five, not counting your crew. She did, and apologies. I'm so used to making things stretch that, even with the bounty your team is offering, I'm trying to imagine how to make it last."

Thirty-five mouths. I couldn't imagine trying to run a household that big day in and day out.

"Rust, why don't you get the bowls down," I said quietly, trying to comprehend the monumental task the woman had before her.

“Elli, get back into the dining room!” Eryn’s voice snapped. “You know, no one but Rust is in the kitchen while food is being cooked. Apologies, I’ll get back to getting everyone set. Rust can help you with the bowls.”

I ladled out spoonful after spoonful, counting the bowls, leaving Tandy and me out. I portioned it out almost perfectly, although the last bowl was mostly the dried, stuck-on remnants at the bottom of the last pot.

Rust took it. I watched as the look of excitement at having apple and cinnamon in his breakfast had melted away.

"Take this to Richard, the slug." I told him. If Richard had nothing, he had several hydrating tricks up his sleeves.

Children occupied every nook and cranny of the dining hall. They pulled at Tandy's clothes, marveling at its finery. Thankfully, her nettle enchantment turned off. Everyone looked notably clean, as Richard kept pulsing as child after child brought him something else to clean. Andrew crouched over one highchair, spooning gruel into a child's mouth. He had bits of spit-up gunk on his bandana.

"Thank you for the help with breakfast. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful." Eryn stood beside me in the doorframe. As I looked at her, I revisited my estimate of her matronly state. She wasn't much older than I. The gray in her hair had been flour. I noted she hadn't grabbed a bowl for herself either, and her thin frame was as delicate as many of the children's.

"We're going to find you some help," I said. I didn't know how, but I knew it was true.

Richard extended two tentacles back from his perch on the table in agreement.

I didn't need a [System] request to tell me what was right and wrong.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 55: One Last Question

Mira giggled as she helped chase down coins that'd rolled away as they scooped the money into bags that Andrew had provided.

Meredeath had walked over to the cages, examining the skeletons that had kept Mira company.

"See anything interesting?" I asked.

Her eyes turned to me, flashing green. I tried not to react, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that she was using her skills and powers almost constantly.

"We still haven't found Mistress Del's missing ladies." Meredeath’s words echoed my own thoughts. "These remains might give us some clues."

Nodding, I asked my question, "Do you [Detect Death] or are these just dungeon constructs?"

"I got a new skill, too." She leaned in closer, whispering. "[Speak with the Dead]."

A shiver ran up my back. Meredeath's class was treading in a direction that was dangerous. I wasn't sure how close [Death Knight] was to [Necromancer], but it seemed close enough. General society didn't look kindly on the necromantic arts, and the Adventurer's Guild put out bounties on anyone found practicing, dubbing them heretics to the order.

Andrew already knew, but we couldn’t trust Mira, she was too young.

I needed a reason to split the party again.

As I turned, I realized everyone was staring at us.

Andrew spoke first. "Lesson #432 of adventuring. If you want to keep a secret, you shouldn't say it out loud. Too many people have skills associated with [Listening], including our Mira here." He patted her on the shoulder.

That's why I use my head. Richard said wisely as a glob of persimmon drool slid down his face.

I covered my embarrassment by walking over to the treasure chest and picking up my snarky 'owner.' He was limp in my arms, so I draped him across my shoulders.

"Okay, well," I said, wiping Richard's slime from my arm. "Meredeath can [Detect Death] and has a new [Speak with the Dead] skill. I'm going to suggest she use it on the skeletons. We might be able to close out Mistress Del's quest."

"Are you a [Necromancer]?" Leo asked, shifting his weight. What the hell, man? You don't just ask someone that.

I opened my mouth to respond, but Andrew cut in, "No, she's a [Death Knight]." His eyes flickered to mine, a subtle hint of unease. I wondered how safe [Death Knights] were from allegations of necromancy.

Was this secret truly safe with Andrew?

"A [Death Knight]? That's so cool!" Mira added her two cents, breaking my thoughts. She would not be turning us in.

"Great, Meredeath's going to create an entire fleet of [Death Magic] users." Leo grumbled. "If you guys don't mind, I'm going to head out. Want to get some rest before we leave for the Hunt."

Leo turned towards the dungeon exit, now clearly marked on our party maps. I could feel a tug at my heart. Whatever the invitation had granted him, he was still struggling with his role in our party.

He didn’t look back. That hurt more than I wanted to admit.

No one else noticed Leo’s state of mind. Instead, they were examining the skeletons that’d been in Mira’s cage.

I joined them, apprehensive as the shadows in the room elongated. Meredeath's eyes began glowing. Tandy also seemed to use a skill, her eyes gaining a passive golden color.

Looks like Meredeath’s not the only one with new skills.

Richard yawned, nestling his head into my shoulder as though we weren’t about to rip open the veil between life and death.

I’d quiz Tandy on it later, when there weren’t so many curious ears.

Andrew held Mira tight, but they were leaning forward with curiosity. Was I the only one left nervous about speaking to the dead?

The bones were dry, with tiny bite marks. One was even missing an entire leg. Both remnants had curled fingers holding them upright, as though sheer stubbornness could fight off death.

"[Speak to the Dead]," Meredeath spoke her skill, invoking a magic that I'd never imagined existed.

The shadows in the dungeon pulsed. The bones in the cage stood out white in the darkness. I took an involuntary step back as the skeletons began to glow, bones outlined in a thin flickering green fire that mirrored Meredeath's eyes. Sweat beaded on the [Death Knight's] forehead as she tried to hold the spell.

"I think it's failing." Meredeath's voice was strained, taut. I put a hand on her back, attempting to infuse her with my own resolve. Richard lifted his head, slithering over to her shoulders. I closed my eyes, trying to will the skill to work.

"Owe! Richard, stop biting me!" Meredeath said angrily, her magic flaring. Clever little slug, leveraging anger for her magic.

Mira gasped as it shambled up, bony fingers wrapping around the cage's bars. As the body straightened, its head swiveled to face Meredeath. The jaw opened wordlessly, clacking its teeth together.

Magic flared again, faintly outlining a young woman in a low-cut dress superimposed over the skeleton. She wore a lacy hat pinned to a pile of curls. The ghost’s eyes pierced my soul as it raised a hand, pointing. Before I could glean more, the skill ran out, plunging us into complete darkness. The world fell away, trapping us in the abyss. Slowly shadows and terror receded as the room snapped into focus.

"Holy shit." The words clawed out of my throat before I could stop them. I staggered sideways, gripping Tandy's arm. Meredeath had saved us multiple times, but these new skills were a lot. I couldn't help but think of Rhi's mummified [Lich] form and her bone warrior army. Meredeath's class was a dangerous one.

Tandy’s voice shook as she spoke, "Were you able to get anything from her? We couldn't hear anything."

Meredeath turned. As the magic drained from her eyes, it seemed to be replaced by a mix of exhaustion and fear. Her face was thin and drawn, with the whites of her eyes clearly visible. Meredeath shook her head as though trying to dispel the magic quicker.

"She's the one. The lady’s ring is the proof we needed." Meredeath’s voice was distant, as though still under other-worldly influence. She sounded like she'd lost part of herself in the magic.

"It's probably where she was pointing," I said, moving towards the corner of the room.

A pile of wet debris sat in the corner. I bent down, separating the leaves and gunk to find a jade ring. The tarnished silver was full of corrosion, and the jade wobbled in its setting, but it was definitely a ring.

"The skeleton pointed? I didn’t see that." Tandy looked at me, concerned.

"Yeah," I stood up, handing the ring to Meredeath. The [Death Knight] took it gingerly. Richard coiled around her neck. Her earlobe bled a little from a tiny bite mark.

[Quest Updated: [Missing] - You have obtained an artifact of Mistress Del’s missing ladies. Return the ring to Mistress Del for a reward.]

"We’ve at least met the quest criteria." Meredeath was right, but I couldn’t help but wish we hadn’t just solved the case. The woman was dead. I dreaded seeing the pain on Mistress Del’s face.

The [Death Knight] clutched the ring, like it was a lifeline to the living. I don’t think she was looking forward to explaining what happened either.

"Well, we should leave," Andrew said for Mira's benefit. The girl seemed caught between awe and fear, clutching his hand with white knuckles.

Tandy and I looked between the two, coming to the same conclusion.

"I want to see the orphanage, if that's okay? We don't have any in Woodsten, and I want to see where Mira lives." Tandy's lies were more convincing than anything I could have come up with. We really just wanted to give them the money in a way that Andrew couldn’t refuse. I nodded sagely, going along with Tandy’s ruse.

Tandy's excuse was enough for Andrew. Mira even ran up to me, grabbing my hand.

I looked down at her wide eyes, regretting the invitation to talk almost instantly as she began babbling.

"I can't wait to introduce you to the mothers! And show you my rock collection! Boni's going to be so jealous. Do you think you can do that thing? Where you fly? I think the other kids would love it, and it's been so boring. Everyone's so sad, but I think they'd laugh if they saw you cartwheel through the air!" Once she started talking, she did not shut up.

I'll stick with Meredeath. Altruism isn't my thing. Kids aren't my thing.

For once, Richard and I shared an opinion. One last task.

The Hunt was calling, but first, apparently, a rock collection.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 54: Dreams in a Box

"You had a key this whole time?" Tandy looked at me like I was a total dumbass. I guess I deserved that.

What was I going to say? I was busy taking advice from a talking slug on picking sides in a continental Faction War against the [Corruption] that ended the last age.

“Yeah, I was having fun watching you all problem solve.” Wow, I was starting to sound like Richard. The little twerp was rubbing off on me too much.

Meredeath gave me a dirty look as she snatched the key from me.

She marched over to the trunk. With a sharp twist and an audible click, the lid popped open.

And our money problems? Solved. The top of the chest overflowed with silver and copper coins. Leo was digging through the coins when Andrew and Mira came to look.

"I've never seen so many coins in my life," Mira whispered in awe—same here, kid.

The coins were shiny, too, untouched by grubby hands.

"If you dig into the top, there should be a handle. The real treasure is underneath the coin layer," Andrew said, using his teaching voice. He really did know a considerable amount about dungeons.

Leo dug around and pulled out the top compartment of the chest, spilling copper and silver coins everywhere. They rolled across the floor, and Mira started chasing them down.

Below sat, well, I wasn't exactly sure what it was. It looked like an assortment of junk.

My persimmon! Richard undulated down my arm to the edge of the chest. Tandy reached in and handed the golden piece of fruit to the slug.

"That's a small reward for beating a dungeon. A persimmon?" Tandy was annoyed, reaching for the tarnished thimble sitting at the bottom of the chest.

"Dungeons tend to put rewards in the completion chests that match the thoughts of an individual when they enter for the first time. You should always school your thoughts before stepping into a dungeon portal."

I thought of our first encounter with the [Trial Dungeon], and how the magic warped the whole challenge around some of my thoughts. I needed to think about this more carefully next time. Of course, it would have helped to know I was stepping into a dungeon.

"Cole, who is this guy?" Leo asked, frowning as he picked up a scroll.

"This is, Andrew. He's a [Wayfinder]," I said, as though that meant something.

"He's the [Wayfinder] and the very best Ashborn in Eddie's Mill!" Mira added, giving me a dark look at the injustice I'd done her hero. "Andrew helps the orphanage and teaches us things."

"Like, don't go wandering in the tunnels. What were you doing down here?" Andrew asked sternly, as the girl tried to look away.

"I know, I know, but..." Her small voice trailed off for a second. Then she looked at us, full of resolve. "But with the refugees, we need more. And you can't do it all."

Andrew sighed wearily.

"While I appreciate the desire to help, perhaps getting caged in a hidden dungeon is not the best way to help. I've taken two days off from [Quests] to find you." Andrew gave us all the apologetic look of an overtired caretaker.

I didn't want to ask. No one else had indicated that they'd even really heard the exchange between the two. But they tugged at my heart.

"There are refugees? What's going on with the orphanage?" My question lingered between us, my companions refusing to look at me. Richard perched on the edge of the chest, sweet sticky juice running down his chin.

"I didn't want to involve you, but we had an influx of children from Terny. The town was leveled in some sort of Dungeon outbreak. Might have happened here, too, if we hadn't completed this one. Anyway, they sent the children out of the city, while the adults fought the horde. A lot of orphans were created that way."

"The den mothers say that we're going to have to send some of the new ones away if we don't figure out something," Mira added in her tiny voice. "So Andrew always tells us that if something needs doing, you're the one who should do it. So I was hunting rats!"

She’d been hunting rats so her friends could keep a roof over their heads. Life sure had a way of putting perspective on our problems.

"By the claws of the Everbear, I'm never going to have a full coin purse, am I?" Tandy looked morosely at the pile of coins sitting on the floor. Tandy came to the same conclusion I had. We weren't going to keep the coins.

I'd never been more proud of her in my life.

I looked in the chest and saw a small coin pouch. It was surely meant for Mira. I picked it up, feeling its light heft. The girl was definitely someone to watch for.

"I think this was meant for you, little one." I handed her the small pouch. She opened it, squealing in glee to find three gold coins. She held it tight to her chest as though it were the greatest treasure in the world.

I looked at the rest of the coins, feeling a pang of guilt in the face of her need.

Here Mira was, doing what I kept failing to do. Actually making a difference.

She looks like Rhi Voss with her Faction Points. Hopeful. Ultimately doomed, but hopeful. Like a cold moth headed to a candle. If only the world could be saved with a pouch full of coins.

Could he read minds now?

"I'm assuming this is yours?" Meredeath handed Andrew a green scale that matched his armor. I hadn't noticed it before, but his scale armor only extends halfway down his chest; the rest was a normal enough chain mail below his shirt.

"Ah, yes, another leaf in my mantle, although I don't feel like I did anything to deserve it. Young Cole here, taking out the boss." Nonetheless, the [Wayfinder] snagged the scale from Meredeath, and the armor shimmered as it clipped into the mail.

“So, it’s like a Boy Scout patch?” Meredeath asked. She looked at our blank expressions with exasperation, “Like a rank? The more of these scales, the more grand hoo-ha of [Wayfinding] you are?”

“Ah, yes, something like that.” Andrew smiled uneasily, lost in translation.

Two bits were left in the bottom of the chest, a dark onyx ring and a pin with a lizard. I didn't want to admit that the aesthetics matched those of certain group members who hadn't received their share of the loot.

"Why do I have a lizard pin?" I asked, trying to trigger [Analyze]. Andrew gets an armor promotion, and I get a gecko pin?

It's not a lizard, it's a chameleon. Well, chameleons are lizards. It's not just any lizard, it's a chameleon!

What was in that persimmon?

"Are you drunk?"

Do I look like I've eaten a hot pepper?

Richard looked up at me, half of his persimmon falling into the chest. Bits of honey-yellow flesh stuck in his teeth as juice ran down his entire face.

This is what the world needed: more slugs drunk on persimmons.

I shook my head, reached down for the persimmon, and handed it back to him.

Thank you, kind sir.

Now I knew he was drunk. He was never polite. My hand touched the pin.

[[Pin of the Chameleon] - Got something to hide? Pin this on and [Camouflage] as a 'human.' Cost: 1 MP per hour. Warning: prolonged use has side effects.]

Interesting pin. I wonder what anxiety that’s solving?

Was that what I'd been thinking when I entered the dungeon? That I needed to hide?

"What does your ring do?" I asked. Did it hold a death ray? Or some source of magical eyeliner? Another [Protection] barrier?

She jumped, her focus broken. She slid the ring onto her finger nonchalantly.

"It's just the ring I was looking at in the store. The one we couldn't afford. I never could get it out of my mind; apparently, now I have." She gave me one of those smiles that didn't reach her eyes. Neither of us seemed happy with the implications of our prizes.

"Holy shit! I can't believe it!" Except for Leo, who was jumping up and down with excitement. "Do you know what I've got here?"

Tandy and I looked at each other, as I said, "No, you haven't told us."

"I've got, right here, in my hand, an invitation to the Ceaparean Drift Hunt!" Leo was vibrating with excitement.

Even Andrew and Richard, coming from their respective focuses, looked at Leo. Each had the look of someone triggering an [Analyze] skill.

Legends were born during the Ceaparean Drift Hunt. It was a twice-a-decade celebrity monster hunt with every [Adventurer], noble, and merchant on the continent. Fancy people hunting fancy monsters.

And we had a ticket. Great. We were going to look like country bumpkins with sticks.

Leo grinned like he’d won the strength contest at the county fair.

"I guess we know where we're going next," Meredeath said, her tone a counterbalance to Leo’s radiance.

We were going hunting.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Poll: How should [Your Mom's Party] spend their last day in Eddie's Mill?

Vote! If you want to vote more than once vote on Royal Road too (Chapter 51). I'll post your poll result here, and their poll result there :)

Thanks for being part of the Cornucopia!

Dragon Con Debrief!

Join Richey and I tonight to talk about Dragon Con!

Please bring all your questions!

Be prepared to learn the new slug greeting for cornucopia members, the source of slug art, tapeworm editing, and all the details on the fever dream that was Dragon Con.

Look forward to seeing you there!

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 53: Bath Time

I can't describe the pain of having your body bored into by highly pressurized water. Thankfully, my [Gelatinous] skill was worth its weight in gold. I managed to survive the event. Now I just needed to stop screaming.

As my body flew, the chaos of the dungeon boss room was everything I’d hoped for. I button-mashed the controls so that both vats split open, spilling acid and sharks across the floor.

The Fat Berg bubbled as the sharks devoured it one toothy chomp at a time. The raccoons uselessly scratched at the walls trying to escape.

The room was one giant shark tank. Blood, fur, and Fat Berg flew in the air. Maybe they should have done a better job of feeding their sharks regularly.

The whole thing was gross and satisfying. I watched my health slowly tick up. It’d bottomed out at 3 points, much too close a call.

As the last remnants of the boss monster died within the crunch of a shark's jaws, I finally got the message I'd been waiting for.

[Quest Complete: [First Run]

You have completed the [Trap] [Unnamed] dungeon beneath Eddie's Mill. This undiscovered dungeon has now had [1] successful completed attempts. You have earned 1000 Faction Points and the right to name the [Unnamed] dungeon below Eddie's Mill. You have earned a [Dungeon Treasure Chest].

[Cole Moldboard Thornfield] is responsible for the death of the dungeon boss [Fat Berg]. You can now assign 1000 Faction Points to one of the following Factions: [System] Faction, Rhi Voss Faction, Tandy Selvedge Faction, or Richard the Fanged Banana Slug Faction. You have [ten minutes] to make your decision.]

The sludge in the boss chamber drained, and the monsters disappeared, to be replaced by a large wooden chest wrapped in brass. It was our [Dungeon Treasure Chest]!

A brass key glimmered into existence in my hand. I pocketed it into my tattered pants pocket. This lifestyle was hard on clothes.

My health was back up to 20, so I risked climbing down without fear of dying from a slip. My shredded boots did little to protect my tender feet. I winced as my toes clung to the pipes during my descent. Richard was probably loving it.

My feet hit the wet concrete with a bounce. A real honest to god treasure chest, our financial woes were over!

"Hey, you loot goblin, you going to get us down?" Tandy called from her cage.

Did you get Faction Points?

"Cole, how about we name this dungeon Your Mom's Dungeon? Has a nice sound to it, doesn't it?" Leo suggested.

I held down the buttons, listening to the cages crank down to the floor. I felt for the little girl. She clutched the bars of her cage as tears ran down her face. Richard, on the other hand, looked like he was about to lunge out of Meredeath’s hand to get to me.

What are your options?

"Your Mom's Dungeon? Really, Leo?" I said to myself.

[Your Mom's Dungeon has been named by Cole Moldboard Thornfield of [Your Mom's Party].]

Oh, for fuck’s sake. They [System] really just wanted to make me miserable, didn’t it?

"Really, Cole? You went along with Leo?" Meredeath complained as she stepped out of the cage. Richard was sitting on her outstretched hand. Admitting it’d been an accident seemed almost a worse sin, so I kept my mouth shut.

The [System] dropped some more information about the newly named dungeon.

[Your Mom’s Dungeon has now been [Claimed]. It is now [Classified] as a [Basic Trap Dungeon].]

Interesting, I still didn’t know what it all meant. I’d have to ask Andrew.

[Freeze Moment].

The world froze.

My eyeballs froze in their sockets, focused on Richard, who sat, slime glistening, tentacles outstretched before him like a child reaching for their favorite blankie.

What are your options?

Honestly, I would have told him, but my lips wouldn't move.

WHAT ARE YOUR OPTIONS!

My eyeballs itched as they dried out in the frozen moment.

For the love of slime, this god-awful [System]-cursed skill.

Time unfroze, and everyone acted as if nothing strange had happened. Tandy and Leo went for the treasure chest. Meredeath joined them after handing me Richard. He undulated up my arm so fast that I didn't have time to react to the trail of goo up my neck.

Let's take this conversation to the corner while they're prying open the loot box.

I watched as Andrew kneeled down, wiping the tears off of Mira’s face. My teammates were standing over the [Dungeon Treasure Chest] like it was a wedding ring. As Leo got out his [Enchanted Axe of Singing] to try to fit it into the seam of the lid, I stepped back into the corner of the room. Meredeath's daggers glowed green as she tried to get one into the lock. Tandy stood muttering, as though trying to dispel the locking mechanism.

"I had four choices."

Four? Are you sure? [System], Rhi, me, and ? Richard asked as though the fate of the world hung in the balance.

"Tandy Selvedge, although I don't know why. I figured it was just a vote for [Your Mom's--" I stopped mid-sentence. Richard's body was vibrating so hard he could have qualified as a marital aid. I'd never seen him so excited.

“I guess you want me to pick Tandy?”

Fuck no, I want you to pick Rhi.

"Not even you?" I was very confused. I knew Richard had no love for the [System]. They had history. I'm assuming they hadn't dated. But to pick Rhi, the undead, possibly maniacal [Lich] that doubled as an ex-lover to a fanged slug? No way.

No! Give it to Rhi Voss. She and Ter Lance need the support.

Richard had used the mental voice that brokered no argument. It was the same voice my mom used when I was about to touch something hot. I selected the Rhi Voss Faction, opting to just go with it.

"Why?" I asked, not able to resist an attempt to fuck with him. It’s a bonus if he actually gives me some helpful information.

[Congratulations, [Adventurer], you have joined the Faction War. You have permanently assigned Your Mom's Dungeon to Rhi Voss's Faction. All earned benefits, awards, and Faction Points will benefit the Rhi Voss Faction.]

My mind clouded over, and I was back in Rhi's swamp. It was dark, but less gloomy. The palace of Niyatgra stood proud, white columns extending to the heavens like an ancient hand reaching for the gods. Rhi sat on her throne, Ter Lance at her side, armor gleaming. She looked up at me.

"Faction points?" Her disbelief was as subtle as Leo's axe. "Lance, the infants send us Faction Points." She stood from her throne, green fire blazing in her eyes.

"It's been a long time," her commander said, standing with her. His sword rose in salute.

The two proud, ancient warriors from a forgotten queendom had transformed into a hint of their former selves. Green flames shot around her hands and down Ter Lance’s sword. They looked ready for a fight.

From my vantage point, I could see a horde of monsters burrowing through the mountain, ready to break through. A thin green magic held the line. It flared with renewed vigor.

"Tell Richard he's still a dick!" she shouted as she turned to her antechamber, turned towards the horde invading Niyatgra.

Skeletons began rising from the floor, dust falling off her bones. Rhi Voss, [Lich], was summoning her army. Green lights danced in the bone lady’s swamp for the first time in a hundred years.

“This isn’t from him.” The words spilled out, whispered across the wind.

Rhi turned her head as though listening to my words. Her quiet response returned on the wind still reached my ears, "It's good to see a new generation stand up. Hope is dangerous. My thanks, child. Watch your back."

[Congratulations [Adventurer], you have passed another step in the [Hero's Journey].]

I can't use the points. I have nothing that could truly help in the fight against the [Incursion]. The [System] has most of the dungeon Faction points in our territory. Rhi needs it. She's barely holding on, and I don't think the [System] can plug that hole.

"You're not trying to get back together with her, are you?" I teased him. I couldn't help it. He might be a key player on some cosmic chessboard, but he also deserved teasing.

She'll never take me back. She picked Ter Lance. Cole, you've got to do this; you must have only minutes left.

"Oh, oops. Looks like time elapsed--"

WHAT THE FUCK!

"--good thing I already chose Rhi's Faction."

Fuck you. Two pinpricks of fangs bit the side of my neck as Richard showed his displeasure. With my [Gelatinous] skill, I didn’t even lose a health point. Why the hell do you taste so strange?

"Better be careful or you’ll get stuck. I want to see what’s in this [Dungeon Treasure Chest]." I ignored his mutterings as I rejoined the party.

Leo had raised his axe above his head, ready to strike the chest from above, determined to smash through and get his just rewards.

"Leo, hold up, man. I think this key might help." Three angry eyes swung towards me.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 52: Sewer Stakes

Took you losers long enough. I would advise not coming into the room.

"What's that voice?"

"That's our sentient slug, Richard." Meredeath thankfully answered for me.

Peering into the room, the team was suspended from a cage above a giant bubbling vat of green liquid. The concoction looked deadly. Oily bubbles formed and popped with a sizzle, making me think it was an acid. Tandy sat, dejected with a yellow slug on her shoulders, up on his tail, tentacles waving at us.

"There she is, I knew she was still alive," Andrew whispered, pointing. Adjusting my gaze, I saw on the opposite side of the room another cage, dangling above what appeared to be a vat of normal water. In that cage sat a young girl. She crouched, little hands holding tight to the bars. Behind her sat two decomposing skeletons.

This was not a good look.

"What is this, some sort of Bond movie?" Meredeath whispered. "Where’s the villain?"

"I don't see anyone, do you?" A raspy voice from behind us, hot breath on my neck.

Meredeath whipped around, and the green flare in her eyes dimmed as horror took hold.

Everything happened in slow motion. Andrew reached for his axe as he slowly spun. Four giant claws burst from my chest as my body lifted off the ground. They were yellow and bloody as they poked through my torso.

Meredeath dodged, rolling into the room to avoid the claws aimed at her.

I was dimly aware that my body was feeling pain. I could feel blood pump uselessly out of my wounds. That vital organs had been punctured. But my awareness was floating away. The creature, which I still couldn’t see, shook its paw, flinging my limp body over Meredeath’s head.

I caught a glance of her shocked expression as my blood speckled her pale face. My body twisted, giving me a quick view of the giant raccoon standing behind us.

The bandit-faced creature squinted as it grinned at my demise. It stood ten feet tall, clad in a giant trench coat with thick arms and foot-long claws. Sunken eyes, missing whiskers, and sagging lips gave it an unnatural appearance.

My spine had been severed, so I hit the ground in a boneless heap. My mind was trapped in jelly as my health plummeted to 0.

[You, Cole Thornfield, are [Dead].]

[[Cheat Death] has triggered. You are incapacitated while the analysis of the situation is complete. This may take some time. I hate this skill.]

Later, I'm sure, my team will ask me what it feels like to be dead. I floated above my body, watching my team lose to the amorphous beast. Dying feels helpless.

The beast barreled forward, knocking Andrew down and trampling Meredeath. Green daggers flashed forward, aimed at its underbelly. The creature didn’t flinch, its body almost bending away from the blades.

A horde of smaller raccoons flowed in behind it, filling the corners of the room. An audience for the spectacle. They chittered, watching their god take on the two [Adventurers].

Something about the boss bothered me. I tried triggering [Analyze].

[Your skill [Analyze] has failed. You are [Dead].]

A glob of fat shot out of the sleeve of the creature, pinning Meredeath to the floor. The green on her daggers snuffed out as she struggled to keep her mouth free of the goo.

Andrew roared a skill as his double-bladed axe sliced neatly through the monster. The two halves of the creature split in two. Tandy and Leo cheered, but the watching ring-tailed seemed unconcerned.

Don't stop, it's still alive! I tried shouting, uselessly. No lungs pushed air through my incorporeal throat.

The two halves of the creature slapped back together with a wet smack. The creature’s skin sloughed off as it relinquished the disguise. Underneath, the monster looked like a collection of fat and grease dumped into the sewers over the years.

A congealed arm whipped out, slamming Andrew into a vat, acid sloshing over the rim. The [Wayfinder] spun, his face bloody and bubbling. I fully expected him to be joining me in the afterlife.

Instead, he flashed a grin, knuckles white on the handle of his axe.

Flecks of red fury danced in his eyes as he spat two skills, "[Bloodlust], [Mirror Weapon]."

I wouldn't have considered Andrew small; his shoulders were too broad to be petite. Short? Yes, but small? Never.

Now the [Wayfinder] towered over the boss menacingly, as he’d tripled in size. Stepping forward, his axe had magically split so he could dual-wield mirror copies. He looked ready to kick ass.

Sensing their master's unease, the audience bounded into the fray. Little knife-wielding furry hands stabbed Andrew as they crawled up his body. The [Wayfinder] laughed at their little toothpicks, tossing the raccoons bodily into the waiting vats.

The boss, enraged, spat a glob of fat at Andrew. The man deflected with a swipe of an axe.

Andrew triggered another skill. He spun as the raccoons flew like debris in a tornado. His axes arced, spraying congealed chunks across the arena.

Not even Leo would dare challenge that guy to a fight.

As the skill wore off, Andrew staggered back dizzy but self-satisfied. A giant wedge had been chewed out of the beast's body. He watched as the creature toppled sideways.

"Mira, I'm going to get you down. Don't worry!" Andrew called to the girl, who was watching him wide-eyed.

I watched the body of the boss, presumably dead, on the floor— the goo of its body leaking through the holes in its coat. The goo started congealing with an intelligence that could only mean one thing. It wasn't done yet.

I yelled, the words stuck in my psyche. There had to be some way to get their attention. I closed my vision, mimicking taking a deep breath to center my mind and gather my will. This time, instead of screaming at Andrew, I mentally shouted.

THE BOSS LIVES!

Andrew heard none of it. Meredeath, on the other hand, started shouting.

"Behind you!" she screamed, trying to get the shrinking brute's attention. Meredeath threw a dagger across the expanse, and it hit the creature with a dull slurk.

Andrew's [Bloodlust] skill had worn off now that his attention was focused on Mira. His body shrank down to his normal size, axes combining into one.

The creature rose, no longer trying to be sly. A dagger hilt sticking out of its head. Within its gelatinous body, a raccoon skull floated like a berry stuck in gelatin. The creature was smaller than it'd been before, but not by nearly enough to make a difference in the outcome of the fight.

Andrew turned, finally getting the message. The monster wasn't taking any chances this time, raising both its arms. A giant glob rocketed towards the [Wayfinder], catching him full force in the face.

The fight had ended.

The raccoons still alive skittered out from the darkness, surrounding the creature with chitters of adoration and praise. The monster used a skill to pop Meredeath into the cage holding [Your Mom's Party], and Andrew into the cage holding the girl. Gelatinous fat dripped off them both into the vats below. Angry fins appeared in the water as sharks fought for a chance morsel.

[Analysis complete. Here are the skills you and your slug deserve.

You have gained the skill [Gelatinous]. You have a permanent body augment that allows you to resist physical damage. You have decreased resistance to [Cold] and [Heat], and [Moist] environment needs have increased.

You have gained the skill [Gelatinous Regeneration]. You have a permanent body augment that gives you increased regeneration from physical attack.]

My consciousness slammed back into my body. I lay, pretending to be dead. I clenched my teeth, trying not to moan, as things shifted around my wounds. It felt like my skin slithered over the wound. It felt like worms burrowed in my body, slithering things into place to fix the damage.

I concentrated on my health bar, which showed 4/25 and began ticking up rapidly. Although the new skills were uncomfortable, they seemed effective. I could feel my guts seal into place. I curled up, revolted as I knew I’d lost another chunk of my humanity. This wasn’t healing; this was something else.

Richard brought me back to reality.

Be careful, you're our only hope now.

Richard always cut to the heart of it. If humanity was the price to pay for my friend's lives, then so be it.

Triggering [Analyze], I finally had a name for the creature.

[The Fat Berg takes on characteristics of its last kill. Gelatinous, it’s resistant to most physical damage.]

The dungeon had seemed to go into a resting state. The raccoons had scattered, running down the dim corridors to their natural resting places. The gelatinous monster had followed them, as if he were going to review the traps and placement of his maze. Maybe he was.

The boss chamber was quiet, just the low hiss of the bubbling cauldron and the silent sobs of the girl clinging to Andrew.

I sat up slowly, eyes on the dark corners. The room appeared to be empty.

The control mechanism for the cages is on the wall behind the vats.

Carefully, I followed the wall. Even the girl had stopped sobbing, eyes glued to me. The chains holding up the cages ran along several pulleys down to a magically enhanced crank. Buttons sat in the panel to lower the cages, to raise them, to swivel the hook holding them in place. Another set for each vat to empty and fill them, and an emergency release.

The labels seemed straightforward, assuming they were labelled correctly. One wrong button punch could drop everyone I cared about into an acid pit.

I slowly approached the control mechanism to get a better look. Andrew's training kicked in as I looked for a potential trap. This was too obvious to be a simple hit of a button. I spotted recessed nozzles pointed around the panel. My health had ticked up at a supernatural speed to 20/25.

I didn't see a trigger plate. The buttons themselves must be the trigger mechanism. Taking a step closer, a plate clicked. Shit, I hadn't thought to look out here.

An alarm started blaring, the inset lights in the ceiling of the dungeon flashed red, alerting everyone to the intruder. Fuck.

"Cole, he's coming!" Leo shouted. No kidding.

My mind raced. Which button to hit? I wasn't concerned with the traps anymore.

An audible splut drew my attention. The trenchcoated blob turned the corner, its face morphing into a wild raccoon grinning at me with sharpened teeth.

An arm pointed at me, ready to cover me in goo.

I lunged for the buttons.

Water jets tore through my body as I slammed into the panel, hitting several buttons at once. I flew into the air, watching as the girl screamed as her cage dropped an inch, and the acid began sloshing out of its vat.

The Fat Berg was overdue for a bath.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 51: [Detect Trap]

Before I could reject the guy's offer, Meredeath smoothly interjected, giving me green-eyed side eye to shut up.

"You're looking for a child?" Her eyebrows raised.

"Yes, I'm a [Wayfinder]." Andrew raised his chin, as though being a [Wayfinder] meant something. Meredeath looked at me, and I shrugged. Andrew looked between the two of us, incredulous. "A finder of the lost? Protector of children?”

“Someone give the man a gold star. Why does that matter?” Meredeath was not hiding her loss of patience.

Andrew’s eyes grew sharp at Meredeath’s rudeness. She just picked at her fingernails, ignoring his look.

Andrew lost the battle of wills, finally just explaining, “[Wayfinder] is a specialization for [Adventurer] — I find the lost, not just kill monsters for experience."

"And this [Quest] to find a child?" Meredeath asked, unimpressed.

Deflated, the man explained, "Yes, I work with orphanages. The Ashlight Haven requested assistance. Once I have the kid, I’ll be out of here."

I realized something in that moment. It was some combo of body language, insight from [Heartbeat], and intuition. Andrew'd been on a quest to find a missing child and was ill-prepared to take on a dungeon. He needed us as much as we needed him.

This time, I cut Meredeath off.

"Look, we need to work together. Meredeath and I are not joining your [Party]." I held up my hand, forestalling his protest. "We're already in a [Party] and we're using our [Party] functionality to find our teammates. So how about you join us?"

Meredeath looked at me like I'd gone crazy, but I was pretty sure we weren't going to beat this dungeon without Andrew's help. I sent over the mental command, inviting Andrew into [Your Mom's Party].

He looked at me, considering. I could feel his hesitation, so I sweetened the offer.

"We'll help you find the missing child." That offer was easy. None of us would leave a child down here. "No need to share the quest with us, you can keep the award for yourself."

Andrews’ bushy eyebrows raised. Meredeath again looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Maybe I had. I had a good feeling about this guy, and a bad feeling about the dungeon. We needed each other.

[Andrew Ashborn has joined [Your Mom's Party]].

I could almost hear Tandy yelling, 'Who the hell is Andrew Ashborn?' from here. A little chaos was good for her.

"Welcome to the party, Andrew," I said, the words with more confidence than I felt. Examining his general attributes in our team interface made it pretty clear that he was a veteran, and we were noobs. Thankfully, Tandy was still listed as the [Party Leader]. "If you bring up your [Party Map], you can see that we've got a ways to go."

The map revealed a maze of connected sewer pipes that the team had already traversed, with pink, yellow, and green blinking dots at the outer edge of the revealed territory. We were represented by black, gold, and grey dots.

"They're going in the wrong direction," Andrew said, frowning with the distant expression of someone who was looking at their interface. "Are you all…" he paused as though searching for a kind way of saying it.

"Complete idiots when it comes to being [Adventurers]?" Meredeath chimed in with her natural charm. "Yes."

"Well, I was going to say, 'inexperienced,' but yes. Okay, well, let's go get your friends before they get killed."

Andrew started moving back towards the junction we'd come from. His legs ate up the ground quickly. Meredeath and I exchanged a look. She was angry with me, and I just shrugged. Andrew might have been a mistake, but we weren't prepared for a dungeon either. I'd rather die trusting my gut on someone than getting eviscerated by a trap I hadn't seen.

The man pointed down at a trigger at the next junction, one of the plates we'd caught moving through it the last time. Once he was sure we'd seen him point out the trigger mechanism, he turned left towards the rest of our [Party].

"Okay, he's growing on me," Meredeath murmured, following Andrew a little closer. The guy had his double-bladed axe slung around his back. The dark axe's edges gleamed in the dim light of the tunnels.

Andrew kept walking, pointing out more traps that we would have likely caught. If it weren't for our interface map, I'd have gotten lost. Each juncture and tunnel looked remarkably similar.

Meanwhile, Leo, Tandy, and Richard’s position had changed. They were in a large room and hadn’t moved for a good ten minutes. This wasn’t a good sign.

"You two ready for some action?" Andrew had paused at the next juncture, as though he'd spotted something we hadn't. I peered over his shoulder, trying to spot what he'd seen.

"I don't hear any raccoon bandits, and nobody’s died right here. What are you seeing that we're not?" Meredeath asked, studying the juncture herself.

"Normally you'd have to pay a [Dungeon Guide] big bucks for this, but since we're a team," he smiled, taking the bite out of the words. "We'll call this a teachable moment. Do you see any difference between the tunnel we're standing in and the one on the other side of this juncture?"

I looked, and it had the same brown, rusty floor. The walls and ceiling were made of concrete, with moss and cobwebs clinging to them. The recessed light strip ran across the middle of the ceiling. Everything looked the same to me.

"It's wetter." Meredeath pointed out. I squinted at the floor. It didn't look that much wetter than our tunnel, but she was right. The floor did look damp. The leaf detritus that had haphazardly littered the floor behind us was completely absent ahead.

"Good, and do you see the trigger mechanism in this juncture?" he asked, with the patience of a born teacher. Meredeath stepped forward, examining the ground. She started to lean into the juncture to get a better look, and Andrew pulled her back, giving us our first clue.

I knelt to get a better look, spotting just a few cobwebs trailing from the ceiling.

"Is it the cobwebs? Is a spider going to drop on us?" I was not too keen on meeting the widowmaker's sewer cousin.

"Yes, good job, Cole." It was hard not to beam at his praise. Maybe I could excel at trap finding? "It's common knowledge that dungeons can be tricky like this. They'll give you trap after monotonous trap, then," he clapped his hands together, making both of us jump. "You'll die to a sophisticated switch-up. It's one of the most commonly made arguments for dungeon sentience." Eyeing the two of us critically, he didn't bother holding back his final thought. "It's also why you shouldn't be trying a dungeon without a guide."

"Good thing we've got you," I said cheerily.

"I just hope your friends are still breathing by the time we reach them."

"They're still on our map, aren't they?" Meredeath was less amused by the situation.

"Sure, but they could be suspended above a pit of alligators, or hiding in a hole while a boss monster waits for them to pop out. There are a million ways a dungeon might trap you or stretch out a kill." He spoke, not unkindly, but straightforward. It gave his words an emphasis of experience.

"Alright, duck here. Be careful not to touch any of the elements in the environment we're in. Anything can and will be used against you. The threat isn't just a monster."

We moved more slowly, and my perspective on the environment changed. Andrew pointed out a moss trigger, more cobwebs, and suspicious patches of dirt. At some point, fake rungs were leading up to a painted maintenance hole, all built to cause someone to back up and fall through a false wall into an acid pit.

We were getting close to Tandy, Leo, and Richard. They hadn’t moved in the last hour, and I tried not to think about what it meant. Eyes on the environment, I tried to stay focused.

"Stop!" I called, freezing everyone. "Andrew, step back."

I'd seen the carefully spaced moss that indicated recessed water jets of death. So there was a trap here. But I hadn't found the trigger mechanism. No mysterious plate, no cobwebs or draping moss. No wobbly stone that sent an errant hand into a wall panel. Nothing in line with the water jets. Maybe it was a delayed trigger?

I began examining Andrew. His hair was pulled back in a warrior's knot, free of any filament that would have indicated disaster. This leather armor creaked as he stood doing his own study of the hall, his pack secured tightly with his axe hanging free. The metal of his boot glistened, reflecting off of something.

One of the first rules of trap finding is to look for differences in the environment or patterns that are too regular. Andrew's wisdom echoed in my head.

"There's a spot of light on your boot, that's got to be it." I traced the spot of light back to a pinhole in the wall. I was beginning to get the hang of finding traps.

The [System Notification] agreed:

[Skills Acquired: You have gained new skills.

[Dungeon Diver] - This [Adventurer] skill acknowledges a rudimentary understanding of dungeons and grants the user a passive bonus to awareness within such environments. Further associated skills and specializations may become available.

[Detect Trap] - This [Dead Wrong] skill is a passive that increases the chance of identifying traps by 25%.

[Detect Trap - Dungeons] - This [Dead Wrong] skill is a passive that increases the chance of identifying traps within dungeons by 25%. This stacks with other non-environmental skills.]

"Ah, yes. A light trigger.” His voice was taut as he took a step back. The beam of light kissed a pinhole on the far wall. Seven jets of water screamed across the tunnel, cutting deep grooves into the stone like knives through butter. Instant death for a mortal, [Wayfinder] or not.

“Good job, Cole. I haven’t seen one of these before.” Andrew’s voice shook as his facade of calmness broke. I’d caught something he’d missed, and it shook him. This highlighted more than the [System’s] recognition of the progress I’d made. Maybe I wasn’t just stumbling along anymore; I finally had a chance to catch myself before I fell.

“Wasn’t this supposed to be a white bread dungeon? Not a five-course death trap.” Meredeath’s voice cut through my ego stroking. She knelt, waving her hand through the light, causing the trap to go off multiple times.

“I agree, it’s too sophisticated for a [Basic] dungeon. Most of these traps would be at home in a [Challenge] dungeon. I haven't been in an [Unnamed] dungeon before, so it could be messing with the classification." His words trailed off. "We've only seen the raccoons, and even for a [Basic] dungeon, they're meant to overwhelm rather than kill. By the Ashborn! I bet this is an [Unclassified] [Trap] dungeon."

"Is someone going to tell me what that means?" Meredeath was unimpressed.

"This dungeon might be [Basic], but it’s not new. If it’s been feeding on the underbelly of Eddie’s Mill, then it’s developed an appetite. Dungeons are predators. This one’s laid a trap, and your friends are the bait.”

I checked the map. The team still hadn’t moved.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. For once, it wasn’t Richard creeping me out.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that the dungeon was watching us, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 50: Dungeons and...

Meredeath demanded to go first, because of course she did.

Which meant when she dipped down into the shimmering hole, my last connection with [Your Mom's Party] disappeared.

[Heartbeat] echoed endlessly, waiting for a response.

Silence.

Meredeath was supposed to poke her head back through and let me know it was okay.

Nothing.

Then, the rope suddenly jerked before going completely slack.

Fuck.

Did I go after her?

If she needed help, I couldn’t just stand around.

I slung a leg over the lip of the well, rope in hand. The greasy pit smelled repulsive.

Time to be the hero.

If this was really a mistake, at least I had [Cheat Death] off cooldown.

My foot slipped, and the sudden weight on my hands snapped my grip. I fell uncontrolled headfirst into the...

[Quest Granted: [First Run]

You have discovered the [Basic Wild] [Unnamed] dungeon beneath Eddie's Mill. This undiscovered dungeon has had [0] successful completed attempts. Complete the dungeon to earn naming rights, faction association, and a [Dungeon Treasure Chest]. Adventure Onward!]

...dungeon.

I somersaulted, landing hard on my ass.

"Glad you could join me," Meredeath looked down at me. “Good thing I didn’t need any help.”

"Why didn't you--" I said, then looked at the rope dangling fifteen feet off the ground.

Meredeath explained, "Once I fell, I couldn’t reach it. You figured it out. No harm, no foul. You know anything about this [First Run] thing?"

“Not a clue. I barely qualify as an [Adventurer].” The truth hurt, even when I said it.

“Might as well be from Kansas, huh?” Meredeath offered me a hand up.

Standing, I looked around at what was apparently a dungeon in the sewer beneath Eddie's Mill. I'd never heard of an [Unnamed] dungeon.

Concentrating, I brought up the party map to see if [Partial Rapport] showed any details on Tandy and Leo's location. For the first time in weeks, I grinned.

"Looks like Tandy and Leo are doing just fine." A detailed map of what they'd explored so far appeared with three blinking marks indicating the location of our absent party members.

We headed south, towards a maze of tunnels with branching junctures and dead ends.

I expected sewers to match the leviathan’s colon in terms of grossness, but the sewer was oddly clean. Except for some leaf litter in a few corners, nothing stuck out. It was as though something had eaten anything that didn’t belong.

A low hum came from the dungeon's ambient light source, an embedded magical filament running along the ceiling.

The dank tunnel was pretty dull for a real dungeon. No monster ambushes, no acidic moss, not even a distant growl. Small glistening piles of slime could be found once in a while, but I just assumed they were from Richard.

"Do we have to worry about traps?" Meredeath asked, breaking the monotony.

"We're just retracing their steps. They should be disarmed or already triggered, right?" I paused as Meredeath grabbed my arm. "Why are you asking?"

We were a dozen feet away from a juncture. From the map, it looks like Leo and Tandy continued forward.

"People have died here," she said.

"How do you know?"

"It's a skill, okay? [Detect Death]." Her voice lowered, as though she didn't want to admit her skill. “I turned it on after the docks.”

The skill certainly would have saved us some embarrassment.

We approached the juncture cautiously. She was the one who saw the trap first. An inconspicuous plate sticking up marginally higher than the others.

Throwing a rock at it, we were rewarded by an audible click, followed by a high-velocity burst of water. The streams would easily flay flesh from bone as they crisscrossed the trigger plate.

“Damn, that would have hurt,” I said, impressed. My [Gills] would have done nothing to prevent that death.

“Yeah, be careful, there’s probably more,” Meredeath said blandly.

We sidestepped the trigger carefully.

"I'm surprised Leo hasn’t stepped onto one of these,” Meredeath commented as we avoided several more suspicious-looking stones. Her [Detect Death] skill hadn’t gone off again.

"Oh, that’s Tandy’s fault. She’s always looking out for him, us. With the clout of her family, she could have done much better than us for friends.” I’d long ago stopped questioning the illogic of her friendship. Her presence was as immutable as the mountains.

The quiet of this god-forsaken dungeon freaked me out. Where were the monsters? Giant sewer rats? Goblins with poor hygiene and sticks? Even [Basic] dungeons should have had some martial challenge beyond traps, right?

"Is that blood on the wall over there?" Meredeath knocked me out of my thoughts as she pointed to one of the oozing walls. A splash of red stood chest high, looking for all like the spray off an axe.

"Do dungeon monsters bleed like that?" I asked.

Meredeath looked at me like I was a world-class dumbass.

"How the hell would I know? I’m from Kansas, remember?"

"Well, I'm just a loser with an [Immortal] sentient slug," I threw back at her.

"G-reat," someone moaned down the split to the left. "And here I was hoping you'd be able to help me."

Meredeath and I exchanged a look. Had we just spilled the beans on our most important secrets to a stranger? She unsheathed her daggers, and I gripped my hammer as we turned down the tunnel, finding an old friend.

The guy who jumped into the dungeon sat against the tunnel wall, axe on the ground before him, holding a wad of cloth against his shoulder. It was soaked in blood.

"Uh, hello again. Happy to help, that looks bad," I said, clipping my hammer as I knelt next to the guy. He wasn't going to be a threat in this shape.

Meredeath stayed on guard, daggers in hand.

"What got you?" Meredeath asked, braced for an attack from him or his assailants.

The man groaned as I took over, holding the compression in place. The rag was covered in sticky blood.

"I'm embarrassed to admit, oversized raccoons. Damn bandit-faced jerks came at me with knives. I didn’t expect that in a [Basic Wild] dungeon. The one that got me had some sort of anti-coagulant on its blades." He must have picked up on my blank expression. "You an [Adventurer], son?"

I nodded, his blood oozing between my fingers.

A squeak echoed down the tunnel. Meredeath and I exchanged looks.

"We're new at this," I waved down the hallway. I moved his rag to take a look and gaged. The wound was deep, muscle cut down to the bone. His arm hung limply.

"I see. Well, let’s get me patched up, and we can talk. Do you have any [First Aid] skills? I've got some, but I can't use them on myself. I'm Andrew, by the way. What's your name?" His voice was a lot calmer than mine would have been if the circumstances had been reversed. "Gods-damn-it, you're whiter than I am." He snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Focus on me, boy."

I took a couple of breaths, holding the cloth against the wound, and focused on the guy's face. He was a little older, with some grey streaks in his beard. An old scar ran across his face from cheek to chin. This guy had seen a few fights. If he wasn't panicking, I could hold it together. Even if I didn't know what to do, he did.

"Okay, open up my pack. There's a red tin, grab that. Every [Adventuring] party should have their first aid kit, regardless of whether anyone has [Healing] capabilities," Andrew lectured. The man reminded him of Marta. That calm explanation of how things should work. "Remind me what your name was?"

A faint scratching of claws on stone echoed ahead.

"Cole."

"Right, Cole. Did you find the red tin? Yes, I see it. Great, now pop it open. There should be a jar of powdered herbs, yes, that's it--"

That's when the raccoon bandits attacked.

Three bounded down the hallway, three-foot-tall armed bundles of fury. Their eyes glowed blue with magic as they clutched knives in their hands. I turned to meet the attack, but Meredeath stood tall, defending us in leather and lace.

"I've got this, Cole," Meredeath said calmly. She didn't even glance back at us. Instead, she spoke her first skill, "[Death's Kiss]."

Green flames erupted along her daggers as Meredeath crouched, ready to take on the monsters.

The raccoons didn't hesitate as they surged forward, eyes glowing red in the eerie light. My hand went for my hammer, but Andrew stopped me.

"She's got this," he murmured, eyes plastered to my teammate.

Just as they closed the final distance, knives gleaming, Meredeath called another skill, "[Whirlwind of Death]."

Her body spun, and the unsuspecting raccoons paid for their stupidity. Meredeath's daggers cut through the creatures like butter. Arms, viscera, and blood went flying. Not once did her protection amulet flare, as she danced through any resistance.

When the skill ended, Meredeath staggered to the wall. She retched, dizzy and disgusted, covered in blood. The flames cut out on her blades, but her eyes still blazed green, the internal fire almost hinting at the skull under her skin. It was a stark change compared to her slitted cat-eyes.

"A [Death Knight]?" Andrew whispered next to me in awe of Meredeath's destruction. "That's a harsh road. Maybe your team can survive down here."

I squatted next to the guy, fumbling in his tin of healing supplies. [Death Knight]. He'd revealed the secret Meredeath had been holding on to in just one example of her skills. That's what the [Lich] had offered her, or one of her options. She chose this.

The gills along my neck flapped uselessly in the air. I wondered how Rhi Voss, [Lich] Queen of Niyatgra’s [Sponsorship] cost compared to Richard’s.

I suspected neither of us had paid the ultimate cost. Yet.

My hands shook as I poured the powdered yarrow and plantain into Andrew's wound. The mixture stopped the oozing.

"Alright, now clean it out, then we'll get to stitching and making the poultice. If we can get it closed enough, I've got a minor [Regeneration] skill that should take care of it."

I nodded numbly at the man's words as he talked me through each step. I focused on the task in front of me. I was afraid to look at Meredeath and the carnage she'd caused. She hadn't just fought the creatures, she'd dismembered them.

[Skill Acquired: You have gained a new [Adventurer] skill, [First Aid]. Your efforts to heal injury will now be [10%] more effective, and attributed regeneration will be [20%] more effective. This skill is bolstered or hindered by your knowledge of treatment for wounds.]

"You get the [System Notification]?"

"Yes, how'd yo-"

"Good, now we can get moving." Andrew stood up, using both arms to leverage himself off the wall. "It seems like you’ll be useful after all. I’ve been tracking a lost kid, join me and I’ll share the [Quest].”

[You have been invited to the [Two Angels Party]. To join this party, you must leave [Your Mom's Party]. Do you wish to join?]

Dragon Con Day 1

Wednesday was a travel day. Met up with a few of the early con goers for dinner and drinks at the Westin, followed by late night karaoke at the Metro.

We counted down to midnight for the official DC launch! There may have been a few more hours of karaoke post midnight... Rob and Kat topped the charts on singing while Hunter (Hunted? ask him about the potential name change, I dare you. ) Mythos cut a rug on the dance floor, and Geneva and Joe earned cutest couple accolades.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 49: Not Your Average Sewer Rat

"Richaaard! Tandy? Leeee-oooo!!!!"

We'd been wandering under the southern restaurant district for an hour. Back and forth, calling. I'd triggered [Molten Promise] on my hammer, turning it into an oversized torch. No crack or crevasse was left in the dark. We'd looked at our party [Map], and they'd crisscrossed the area so much it was hard to tell where they'd disappeared.

The empty spot in my mind that they inhabited was a raw, sharp wound. It was as though they'd been excised from my psyche with an obsidian knife, and all I could feel was their absence.

The red-hot panic started to turn into resignation. [Self Critic] had me doubting it was even possible for me to find them. The city was so much bigger than Woodsten. I was out of my depth. They were gone.

I knew I needed to keep searching. Keep looking.

But I felt helpless.

"They didn't die," I said, primarily for my own benefit. If I spoke it, it had to be true.

"No, we would have gotten a death notice. They're still in [Your Mom's Party], just not here." Meredeath backed me up with the confidence of someone who believed in the [System's] rules. I knew better.

We sat back against the sides of the tunnel. [Guardian's Promise] sat next to me, illuminating the tunnel like a certain glow worm.

Even if I was going to allow myself to believe Meredeath, I had no idea what to do next.

The delivery tunnels were a fairly straightforward web that followed the roads of the city. We'd searched everywhere they were supposed to explore. Not only had we not found them, but the place was empty. No rats. No deliveries. Nothing suspicious.

"Let's go back to the sewer juncture. If Tad is right and that's where the rats are congregating, then that's where they should have ended up," Meredeath suggested.

Her words were calm, logical, and they made sense. And that, irrationally, pissed me off.

"We already checked. They're not there!" We couldn't find them, and she didn't seem that upset by it. Worse, she'd been right. Splitting the party had been a bad idea, but I'd been so excited to get some time alone with her.

Meredeath stood, patting the dust off her legs.

No part of me wanted to imagine being [Adventurers] without Tandy and Leo. I tried triggering [Heartbeat] again, but all I got was heartburn. It was all my fault.

"COLE! Snap out of it! Look at me." Meredeath snapped her fingers. I refused to look. "I don't know what's got you stuck, but sitting here in an empty tunnel isn't going to save our friends’ lives. Now get off your ass and start doing something useful."

"But it's my fault." The truth I'd been clutching came out in a whisper.

"Has your [Self Critic] leveled or something? Even if I agreed that it was somehow your fault, which I don't, how are you fixing it?"

I looked up at her. She had a hand extended to help me up. I took a deep breath, trying to will the tension from my body. I took her hand, and she pulled me to my feet. [Guardian's Promise] flared when I grabbed it, as though it sensed my resolve.

Without another word, Meredeath headed back to the main junction for the district. The leather of her black corset armor reflected the glow of my hammer.

"You should take your own advice," I called after her, as I willed my feet to move. Her back stiffened. She didn't turn to look at me, so I continued, "Whatever it is in your previous life. It's not your fault either."

Meredeath kept walking, ignoring my comment.

I knew why. It wasn't easy advice to follow.

Fifteen minutes of silence, and we were back where our investigation had started.

The sewer junction sat in the middle of a wide roundabout. Tunnels exited the chamber like spokes on a wagon wheel. The delivery tunnels in this section of the city all sloped down to here. This sewer was larger than the other junctions we'd seen. Not only were there grates for runoff, but also a waist-high giant drain was positioned in the center. Presumably, so restaurants could bring their frying grease and dump it.

The whole place reeked of old oil. It was a sewer rat's paradise.

I leaned over the drain, holding [Guardian's Promise] above it. The pit continued well beyond the light of my hammer.

"I don't understand how they made these tunnels. This wouldn’t be easy to build, even in my world. And you're a lot more," Meredeath caught herself. I knew what she was going to say, though she'd slipped before. Our world is a lot more 'primitive.'

"They likely used magic. Back when Eddie's Mill was built, we had true [Geomancers] that were responsible for most of the underlying build of these old cities. That's why the new districts are always crappier. A lot of skill and spells were lost in the cataclysm that ended the last age." I wasn't about to admit that I, too, was impressed by the city's design.

Meredeath peered into the darkness. Light wasn't a limiting resource for her eyes anymore.

"Do you see anything?" I asked.

She leaned further still, squinting into the abyss.

"Best lean back," came a low, gruff voice. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Clutching [Guardian's Promise], I turned to face the newcomer.

"No harm intended," he said, stepping into the light, palms up. Meredeath's eyes were glowing as she crouched, ready to jump into action.

The guy was short and stocky. He wore flexible scaly armor with joints made of chainmail and a midnight black double-bladed axe. Bushy eyebrows and a pair of brown eyes peeked over a thick green bandana. A long tangle of rope coiled around his arm as he stepped into the center of the roundabout.

I hoped he was a fellow [Adventurer], because if he was the person causing issues in Eddie's Mill, we were about to become his next victims.

He stepped past Meredeath, looking down into the drain himself. With a grunt, he threw the coiled rope into the hole. He held a grappling hook in his hand as he watched the rest fall.

"You, with the glowing hammer. Find an anchor for me, will you?" His nonchalance disarmed me as much as anything. This was a man at work. I cast about, looking for anything that could be considered an 'anchor.'

"It's over here," Meredeath answered him. The man's eyebrows raised as he walked around the drain. Sure enough, she'd found a steel anchor poking out of the concrete.

He latched his rope to the steel rung and walked back to the drain, looking into it.

"Are you going down there?" I asked the obvious. I could imagine what Richard would say.

"Yes, people to rescue and all that." He hopped onto the rim of the drain and, without another word, jumped into the abyss.

Meredeath and I ran up to the rim and watched as he rappelled down. The drain was just wide enough for him to kick off and drop in three to five-foot increments. The walls were slick with grease and threatening to cause him to slip at any moment.

Ten feet, then fifteen. He kicked off and disappeared. A faint shimmer flickered in the drain as a cool breeze blew up from the hole. The air smelled of grease, but felt heavy, like a storm was brewing.

"Can you see him?" I asked, grabbing Meredeath's arm. Was this some trick of the light? I held [Guardian's Promise] over the hole, squinting to see the guy.

"No, he's just gone."

The rope suddenly went slack, bouncing flat against the wall. I had the sinking feeling I knew where the rest of our party was.

"Do you think it's a portal?" Meredeath asked.

I looked down again, as far as my eyes could tell, the drain was a bottomless pit. Except it wasn’t. It felt like the pit was watching me back.

"I have no idea, but he must have hit the bottom right?" I pulled at the loose rope.

"Either that or dropped to his death," Meredeath countered. We stared at the brown twisted rope a bit longer.

My mind raced, evaluating all the possibilities. "That guy seemed too knowledgeable to just jump to his death. He had to be an [Adventurer], right?"

Meredeath tugged at the rope, testing the grappling hook.

"It seems sturdy enough." She looked at me, her eyes pensive. I wasn't thrilled about going into a grease trap, but if Tandy and Leo were down there, what choice did we have?

"I've never heard an [Adventurer] story about climbing into a sewer," I muttered, unhappy with the task before us.

Meredeath looked at me as though evaluating if I was serious. She started chuckling, one of those insane little uncontrollable laughs. Before I knew it, she was bent over, grabbing her stomach.

"You obviously haven't played Dungeons and Dragons," she wheezed, wiping tears from her face. Dungeons and Dragons? What kind of world did Meredeath come from?

"Who would play with dungeons or dragons, much less together?"

Meredeath lost control again.

I had the sneaking suspicion we were going to find more than rats down here.

I just hoped it wasn’t dragons or dungeons.

Turned out the joke was on me.

From the Desk of Reck: Dragon Con!!

So I'm writing this as I prepare to travel to Dragon Con tomorrow. If you're not already following me on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/dtp.reckwell/) , please do! I should be posting pictures of events and slug sightings.

Conventions are exciting times full of swag, ribbons, friends, panels, and random moments. I was very thankful of the LitRPG Con experience this year. Geneva and Emily put on an incredible event.

Events I'm going to be attending:
DCC Pre-Con Meet Up Wednesday
The DCC Server Meet Up Thursday
Fairy Tale, Folks Tale & Classic Story Retellings (KT Hanna) Friday
Magic Mechanics and Myth Making (SourpatchHero) Saturday
Heroines Unleashed (Rose Reynolds) Saturday
Go Down, Level Up - LitRPG Apocalypse Saturday
How to Destroy the World 101 (Chatfield, Dinniman, JB Garner, KT, James Hunter, Rose)
The LitRPG RAID Party Sunday night

I'm looking forward to seeing more than a few folks, but notables are recent interviewees: Doug Lohse, SourpatchHero, KT Hanna, Richey Stephens, and Jessica Threet, along with the Stumbling Up editor, JB Garner. We've also got a lot of members of the cornucopia -- Find Kat or me for some special Cornucopia ribbons!

It's going to be 🔥... but hopefully a bit less realistic.

Thanks everyone! Will send updates as I can!

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 48: Flirting with Disaster

“We never should have split the party,” Meredeath muttered for the tenth time. I didn’t see what the big deal was.

Tandy wanted to investigate the sewer junction, looking for rats. I thought observing the warehouse operations for the night would be beneficial.

It didn’t hurt that I ended up pairing with Meredeath. Or that Richard went with Tandy because he had a nose for rats. Whatever that meant.

It was a win for me, and honestly, I needed a win.

Too bad I couldn’t capitalize.

“So, what is your new class?” I tried to change the subject, and like some dumbass, I decided chatting about stats was the way to go.

I could hear Richard’s imaginary taunts.

What are you going to do next, Cole? Ask her about her shoe size?

I had an inner demon, his name was Richard.

"Did you even know my original class?" She was still irritated, but at least she was talking about something else.

We were crouched behind a pile of crates in the underground warehouse. In the end, we didn’t join the guards huddled around torches. It was pretty obvious after 5 minutes why the pay was so low, and why they hadn’t caught any thieves.

"Point taken, but I've been curious. It's important to know your capabilities," I pushed, not needing Richard’s help to triple down on my stupidity.

Meredeath’s secrecy bothered me. When she’d admitted to being from another world, I thought that was it, that she’d start opening up. But since she gained Rhi Voss as her [Sponsor], she’d become even more secretive.

We already knew Rhi was a [Lich], I wasn’t sure how much worse her secrets could get.

"I'll make you a trade: you give me the details of your class, and I'll give you mine."

Well, fuck.

I didn’t want to talk about being Richard’s pet. Or that my class relied on me dying or pretending to die. It wasn’t sexy. I didn’t have a hero’s class.

“Uh…” I scrambled for an excuse.

"Exactly,” Meredeath read my hesitation accurately. Tandy never made being smart look so sexy.

Shifting my weight, my boot squelched in the mud. For a city sophisticated enough to have an underground goods delivery network, they sure hadn’t thought through the logistics of having the port of entry so close to a river.

It was wet, cold, and as dark as Richard’s soul.

Meredeath had insisted I not use the torch function on my hammer, insisting it’d ruin our night vision. Personally, I didn’t have any vision to ruin.

Maybe her eyeliner was enchanted?

"How about a counter? A guessing game. We share our theories, and promise to admit if the other person is right?" I asked.

I’d spun theory after theory in my head about what Meredeath’s true build was, before and after her [Sponsorship]. This seemed like a no-lose gamble.

She turned her head towards me. The faint smell of patchouli and mint hung in the air. She was close enough to kiss. My heart thundered in my ears.

"Deal, but I go first. You've got a skill that allows you to come back from the dead. It's not an undead skill, but it lets you cheat.” Her words slapped the imagined intimacy right out of my head. She continued with her cold analysis, “You died fighting the tidemaw. I saw the notification pop before it vanished.”

"I-- uh..."

"I already know I'm right, so just out with it." I could hear the grin in her voice. Damn it. Every time I thought I had the upper hand, she proved me wrong.

"Yeah, the skill is called [Cheat Death].” Resigned, I admitted the truth. “But it’s less of a cheat and more of a trade. The [System] doesn’t give handouts.”

I shuddered, my mind reliving the undulating skin and tissues as my lungs realigned. It was a trade from hell. A tiny part of my humanity had vanished. I’d spent weeks trying to get a full breath before my senses adapted.

Reaching out, she ran her fingers lightly against my gills, acknowledging the price.

The touch was sensual, on the verge of ticklish.

Maybe gills weren’t so bad after all.

“There’s always a cost,” Meredeath whispered, touching her amulet. Her eyes rose to mine, faintly glowing green. Her voice caught as she finished her thought, “Even when you stand still.”

The words cut, especially after Richard’s revelations about skill use. I don’t know how close I was to losing [Cheat Death], but I was going to have to figure out some way to practice it.

What price had she paid for standing still?

Shadows danced in our corner of the warehouse, forestalling my questions.

A delivery wagon rumbling out of the southern tunnel. Wood creaked as a lone horse and driver plodded along. A small, dimmed lantern hung from the driver’s seat. The whole outfit was painted black, as though a reaper from the land of the dead had made an appearance.

Delivery and operations had shut down hours ago. A delivery from an all black wagon at the witching hour? This was exactly what we’d been waiting for.

“Your turn,” I whispered as we watched the slow-moving wagon. “I know you’ve got some sort of night vision skill. But you’ve refused to use any other new skill since we left the swamp.”

"It's [Dark Vision], and it's a passive that I can't turn off, which is irritating…” for someone who likes to hide in the shadows. She left it unsaid, but I got her point.

“And the rest of your skills?” I pushed.

Her eyes flared, angry.

“The rest of my skills haunt me,” she said as the air chilled around us. It was so cold my breath fogged, and my lungs ached. Then it was gone the next instant as she said, “Did you see the stain on the tailgate?"

"No, I don’t have [Dark Vision],” I said calmly, willing the icicles from my lungs.

"I think we've got our first clue. Let's follow the driver. I'd like to take a look at that cargo.” Meredeath stood, mapping out a path to follow the wagon.

She’d gone from threat to business in an instant, not unlike her [Lich] of a [Sponsor]. She might have more reason than I to be cautious.

"What color was the stain?"

"Red," she whispered, her voice wavering.

The wagon wove through boxes and crates, steadily aimed at the riverside exit while avoiding the posted guards. It moved with the slow confidence of routine. No one challenged the driver.

The river entrance was tucked under the southern bridge. We'd completely missed it while getting ripped off entering the city.

Meredeath and I watched as the wagon rolled unimpeded out onto the boardwalk connecting the docks. We stood in the shadow of the bridge pylons, silent witnesses to the exchange.

With the help of the moon, we had a perfect view as the uncovered wagon pulled up not thirty yards from the bridge.

A figure popped out of one of the river runners, not bothering with a lamp. The driver and boat owner exchanged words. This was a planned rendezvous.

Moving to the tailgate, the two looked at the wagon’s only cargo, a long, narrow box.

"They're unloading her. She’s alive, I can feel it. We’ve got to do something." Meredeath was standing, anger and outrage pulsed through her voice.

Before I could respond, she ran down the dock, glowing daggers in hand, like a vengeful spirit.

That escalated quickly.

Of course, she charged. Why ask questions when you can kick ass first?

"Unhand her!" Meredeath shouted, her voice carrying over the docks.

As I caught up, lights were coming on in the surrounding boats.

The driver faced Meredeath’s anger, hands out unthreateningly. He looked rough, with a greasy beard and several white scars across his face.

"On whose authority? We're conducting legitimate business," he sounded bored as though he was used to being accused. It wasn't what I expected from someone smuggling a girl out of the city in the middle of the night.

Meredeath, all five-foot-three of her, stood pointing her ominously glowing dagger at the man.

"I'm an [Adventurer], and I’m not going to let you kidnap her. I don’t need formal authority to stop human trafficking." Her teeth were clenched.

"Oh, Tad, another one of those?" someone called from one of the boats. "Everyone, go back to bed, it's just Tad delivering another body."

Groans and complaints issued from the boats around us as lights flickered off.

"Well, Miss [Adventurer], my name's Tad, and I'm the undertaker for the city. This young woman," he gestured to the feet he'd begun to pull from the back of the wagon, "is an Unfortunate. No one claimed her at the morgue, and no one has reported her missing. So, unless you have the burial fee, I'm going to hand her off to Lennie here and be on my way."

I put a hand on Meredeath’s shoulder, trying to will her to calm down. Instead, she whirled, her daggers up.

Sharp, green, malevolent eyes saw only an obstacle to cut down.

"It's okay,” I said calmly, lowering my hammer to the ground. Trusting Meredeath not to stab me, I talked to the undertaker, “Sorry, sir. Just an honest mistake.”

"I saw her move," Meredeath hissed between gritted teeth. I stepped back, no longer certain I was safe.

For the first time all night, I wished Richard were here. He’d defuse Meredeath with some witty joke.

"Well, we can check," Tad said, possibly saving both our lives. "But she's been dead three days. Kept her in the cooling caves, but that still does a number on the body."

He pulled the woman out of the wagon, laying her on the ground. A stained linen shroud wrapped her body. The woman, the body, was limp and lifeless.

Meredeath and I stepped forward, and I was immediately overcome by the sweet smell of rot.

I coughed, stepping back, but Meredeath was undeterred. She used a dagger to pull back the linen.

The woman was dead. What had been a youthful face was marred by the discoloration and bloat from decomposition. Cloud eyes stared sightlessly at the night.

Meredeath sheathed her daggers, bending down to touch the girl's face, "How'd she die?"

"Stabbed in the kidney. One of the delivery drivers found her bled out in the tunnels near the spice district," his voice was softer, kinder, speaking of the dead. He sounded as though this was not an uncommon occurrence. "The rats had already gotten to her, or I'd have kept her longer. But times being as they are. Thank the Everbear for Lennie here, and his soft heart."

Lennie, the boat captain, had joined us. He walked with the arthritic gait of an old man.

"I'll take her. It does her soul no good to gaze upon the stars." Lennie bent next to Meredeath, whispering, "You carry that pain deep, don't you? May you honor your loss."

Squeezing her shoulder, he covered the nameless woman and motioned to Tad to grab her feet. Meredeath stood, joining me as they loaded the body into a protective cradle, cushioning it from the rocking of the boat.

The two men shook hands, then Tad unwound the mooring lines. Lennie used a long pole to push off from the dock, gliding into the current.

A soft glow of a skill lit the boat as it moved upstream. He stood on the aft, glowing with magic like a mythical ferryman for the dead.

"Lennie's a good man," Tad said, joining us as we watched. "He lost his daughter years ago. He takes all the unclaimed women and gives them a proper burial on his family land. It’s a kindness in the world. Even death is expensive these days; the city only pays for a mass grave. This is better."

Silent rivulets of tears ran down Meredeath's usually stoic face.

Here was one of her secrets, laid uncomfortably bare.

I wanted to reach for her, say something clever. But grief wasn’t a monster I knew how to fight.

Instead, I turned to Tad, trying to give her a moment, and asked, "You said rats got at her body? Is the rat problem particularly bad in any one spot?"

[Partial Rapport] gave a distant tug. I ignored it, hoping to get a lead.

Tad studied me, white scars reflecting in the moonlight.

"You're both a bit green to be taking on a problem like that, aren't you?"

"I think we can handle some rats," I said, my pride stung.

He leaned in, his breath heavy with garlic. I tried not to gag as he finished, "They’re heaviest in the southern sewer junction. Down by the restaurants.”

He grabbed my shoulder. "There's more'n rats in the sewers. They're fleeing something." His hand squeezed, emphasizing his last words. "Do you know what rats are scared of, son?”

I wordlessly shook my head.

“Neither do I,” Tad said, as he let go of me.

The undertaker turned back towards his wagon, pulling a toothpick out of his pocket. He set himself stiffly on the bench, the toothpick between his teeth. With a nod, he shook the reins.

“That’s where Tandy and Leo are,” I said to the night air.

The itching in the back of my mind that I’d associated with [Partial Rapport] vanished. Leo, Tandy, and Richard were gone.

“I told you we shouldn’t have split the party.”

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 47: One More Demon

[Heartbeat] tugged at me. I had to find Leo. He was spiraling out of control.

Eddie's Mill was less intimidating with a full stomach.

The city was divided into four areas: the docks, the shops, the residential district, and the professional district. There were smaller, specialized subdistricts. The Velvet Box was in the slums between the docks and the shopping districts called the Red Eaves neighborhood. The Adventure's Guild sat firmly in the professional districts, wedged between an apothecary and an accountant. This should have been the first clue that Eddie's Mill [Adventurers] were built differently.

The door to the Guild was set like a saloon, swinging open as we entered. The door dumped us into a parlor of sorts, with a bored clerk shuffling papers on a heavy wooden desk. Three doors sat behind him, one painted green, one painted red, and an ornate door of wood with gold accents.

"Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild. How can I help you?" came a dull monotone greeting. The guy looked at us curiously.

"Uh, we're new in town. Looking for the Quest Board," Tandy said.

"And we're meeting a friend. Tall guy, blonde hair, and he's got a double-bladed axe," I added. I was anxious to check in on Leo. I didn't need [Party Rapport] to know that he was hurting.

"Ah, yes, the group that claims to be [Marked]," he said the words as though they meant something to us. "Proceed through the green door, your friend is waiting inside."

"What's behind the other doors?" Meredeath asked. She was as bad as a cat with a closed door.

The clerk stood slowly. Sitting, he wasn't intimidating, but standing, he towered over all of us, matching Leo for size. Muscles flexed under the robes.

"Entrance through those doors is earned by rank," his voice was cool, brokering no argument.

Rank. This guy wouldn't know what to do with a truly powerful [Adventurer]. Wake me when something interesting happens.

Richard curled his tentacles inward, a sure indication he was going to nap.

Meredeath shrugged off the threat and nonchalantly walked over to the green door.

Tandy and I gave the man a wide berth as we followed.

The green door opened to a stairwell down. The stairs were wide and well lit, with polished handrails. Even so, the message was clear: everyone started in the basement.

The room opened up into a tavern of sorts. A bar sat against the far wall. A bartender polished glasses with a long, oiled mustache turned up at the ends. He watched us neutrally.

A mismatch of tables sat with a couple of stained [Adventurers] eating breakfast. They smelled of blood and body odor. The two ate, heads down. A pile of grey noodles sat untouched next to them on a platter. I could almost see flies buzzing over their heads.

Leo was against a wall in a booth, sitting by himself. On the far wall, a board sat with presumable [Quests] available, and a clerk sat in a cubby reading.

[Heartbeat] tugging at me, I joined Leo at the table. Meredeath and Tandy went to examine the board.

"Hey, man," I said, scooting across from my friend. Leo muttered something intelligible, his eyes down tracing a crack in the wood with a finger. "Hey, I'm mad too. That," I looked around, seeing several eyes on us, "that thing that Richard told us. It could have made all the difference growing up. Complete bullshit."

Leo's eyes raised, and for an instant, I saw behind the curtain. Hurt and rage warred for prominence.

The curtain fell, and his eyes shifted to the side, almost blank.

"We're here, together. That's what counts," his voice was flat, emotionless, just like his platitude. I shifted, picking up a now-sleeping Richard and placing him on the table.

"It's going to get better, you're an [Adventurer] now."

"Yes, and unlike you, I'm not burdened with needing a [Sponsor],” he said, the words through clenched teeth, standing. “And I don't have to be the pet of a slug.” Leo's hard eyes stared down at me for a second. I felt like an ant.

"Sorry, Cole, I need to use the privy," he said, walking off. We both knew he hadn't needed to use the restroom. He just needed space. Space from me, his best friend.

His back was rigid as he walked away, and he looked naked without Tandy’s pink sweater. My heart ached.

Leo left his axe in the seat, an unspoken promise he'd return. At least I didn’t have to worry about that.

You sure fucked that up.

I didn't have a comeback for Richard. He was right.

I put my head down on the table, ready to crawl under a rock and take a nap. The table’s aroma of maple syrup and beer seemed fitting. An optimistic start to a day, mixed with the need to accept what happened.

Voices were raised by the Quest Board, and I tilted my head to watch Tandy argue with the clerk. I should probably intervene, but I just didn't have it in me. Tandy was raising her voice, pointing at the pieces of paper pinned to the board.

The clerk looked bored, like she'd dealt with this complaint before and knew the outcome.

Meredeath pulled at Tandy, trying to get her to walk away.

I sat, my mouth dry. I didn't even have the coin to order a beer and watch the show. [Adventurers] were supposed to be wealthy, full of loot, and have a lust for life. Not stuck in a basement arguing with a paper pusher. I twisted my head to face the table, blocking out Tandy.

I brought up my stat sheet.

When Richard and I had rebonded, I received my [Dead Wrong] class back, along with all the inherent skills it granted. At least this time, I knew what I was signing up for.

I could feel [Self Critic] trigger, but I didn't care. I deserved some criticism.

How can I apply the first tenet of progression to my skills? The list was hardly noteworthy, with a few exceptions: [Cheat Death], [Alive, For Once], [Gills], [Analyze], [Improvised Damage], [Party], [Stillpoint], [Heartbeat], [Partial Rapport], [Companion], [Minor Manipulate Slime], [Hammer Time], [Nailed It], and [Self Critic].

My most valuable skill was the one I vowed never to use, [Cheat Death]. The skill would keep me alive, but the cost...

I could practice [Gills] by jumping in a river. I triggered [Analyze] on the table, waving away the resulting message.

I raised a finger muttering, "[Minor Manipulate Slime]."

Lifting my finger, I concentrated on the pool of slime that'd formed around Richard, and folded it up over his prone body. It slipped, so I folded it again and again.

[Skill Upgrade: [Minor Slime Manipulation] has upgraded to [Slime Manipulation]. You now have the ability to control and move larger piles of slime. Congratulations!]

Was this all there was to it? Just practicing the skills? I could do this. So could Leo.

The big man had returned, propping his axe against the wall.

I started to share my skill upgrade, but squashed the instinct.

Good to know you have some sense.

"Leo, I'm sorry that things haven't worked out differently. But we've got this knowledge now, we can figure it out."

"Sure, Cole. We'll figure it out," Leo muttered flatly, not meeting my gaze. I mentally switched off [Self Critic], deciding to take his response as a win.

"If you want Richard, you can have him." We both looked at the slug who glistened in the slime I'd folded over him.

"He's too slippery, hard to pin him down to commit," Leo joked. I smiled, almost feeling my [Heartbeat] skill level. I'd broken through!

"Yeah, I had to trap him in a compost bin, poor fellow. Plus, he's given me a [Weakened] debuff. Probably not worth it."

"Is that why you die so much? I thought it was just you," Leo ribbed, and for a moment, we were back to our usual selves.

"Fucking Malyc, and those sheep-loving bureaucrats." Tandy sat down heavily, her words hanging in the air. Meredeath waited as Leo made room for her.

"What's the word?" I asked, unenthusiastic about her reply.

"Malyc hasn't submitted paperwork on our passing the [Trial Dungeon]. So they've got us listed as [Sworn Adventurers] instead of [Marked Adventurers]." Tandy sounded resigned, as though this difference ruined us.

“Can’t they just [Examine] or [Analyze] us?” I asked quietly.

“They did. The clerk said our classes sounded fake. Apparently faking a class is something you can do. She didn’t believe us.” Meredeath’s words were cold, as though she was ready to gut the clerk herself.

"So, what does this mean?" Leo asked quietly.

"It means shit training [Quests] meant for part-timers working up to the [Trial Dungeon]," Tandy explained.

It didn't sound that bad. As though reading my thoughts, Meredeath filled in the blanks.

"We're still only allowed the low-pay rats in the cellar jobs. And because they expect [Sworn Adventurers] to have a day job, it’s not going to be enough."

Ah, that was the rub. If we were being honest, we probably should still be working low-level jobs, but we needed money.

"I grabbed these, since they'll align with Mistress Del's [Quest], but we're going to have to move on if her charity runs out." Tandy threw two slips of paper on the table. The [Quests] triggered in my vision.

[Quest Granted: [Rats in the Tunnels]

The city of Eddie's Mill has a rat problem. There is a .1 copper bounty per rat. Rewards will be granted per tail.]

I glanced over at the two downtrodden [Adventurers], realizing in horror the platter of ‘noodles’ on their table was dozens of rat tails. Something odd was going on in the city if they’d caught that many rats.

The second [Quest Notification] popped:

[Quest Granted: [Guard Duty]

The port of entry has experienced thievery lately. The Merchant's Guild has offered 1 copper per guard to watch the stores overnight. Bonuses are available for any thieves caught in the act.]

"Not thrilling, but better than nothing, I guess." It was hard to work up more enthusiasm than that.

We talked, making plans as we eyed the bartender thirstily. I decided to go back to Mistress Del's and get an afternoon nap. Sleeping was free, and we were about to pull the graveyard shift. The girls went window shopping, presumably so they could get a sense of the cost of items. I think they just enjoyed torturing themselves with the things they couldn't have.

Leo waved us off, opting to stay at the bar. It was going to be a long night, so I didn't bother arguing.

Leo'd been fighting his demons his whole life.

He never gave us credit for standing with him.

Now I couldn’t help but feel I’d joined the ranks of demons. Just another disappointment he had to fight off.

Desk of Reck: Pre-Dragon Con Updates and Events

Good day, everyone!
I've been working on an overhaul of the Part 3 chapters, and will post a bunch later today. Appreciate your patience!

I'm preparing for Dragon Con, headed to Atlanta Wednesday morning! Will try to do some posts from the events. Looking forward to seeing KT Hannah, Rose Reynolds, SourpatchHero, Richey, Jessica Threet, and Doug Lohse, as well as a slew of other Litrpg authors and narrators! Comment below if there's a panel, author, narrator, or event that you want me to check out.

This Monday night, we're going to have a pre-con podcast on @Chattinstats on YouTube. Right now, the tentative time is going to be 7 pm EST. I will post an update tomorrow when we've got it confirmed. During the podcast, we're going to have a couple of announcements regarding the book, as well as a live reading!

Look forward to seeing you all online Monday!

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 46: Progression for a Price

With a full stomach and aching feet from the day, I should have been asleep immediately.

I envied Richard. He was curled up on his half of the pillow in a wet spot of slime and drool. He even breathed in time with Leo's log-cutting snore.

Rrriiiiiip.

And then there was Tandy. Every night, she fell asleep practicing. She’d rip or cut her practice cloth, then mend it with a faint shimmer of golden light.

I’d cursed her with longer cooldowns, but the gods weren’t listening.

She needed spells. We were going to buy her one at Eddie’s Mill. Unfortunately, I suspected we wouldn’t be able to afford it, even if we found one.

It might take years for us to buy a single spell.

Rrriiiiiip.

Between Leo’s bear snore and Tandy’s endless tear-and-weave loop, sleep was a lost cause.

Meredeath had found another bed, probably just to avoid these two. My mind refused to think of the other reasons.

Tandy's face was a study in concentration as she poked at the different threads of fabric, then triggered a skill.

"Why are you doing that?" She started, her skill fizzling as she looked at me, annoyed. My whispered question came out harsher than planned.

"I'm practicing and trying to figure the skill out," Tandy said, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why practice a skill? You've already learned it. And what are you trying to figure out?" It didn't make sense. Skills just worked. There was nothing to figure out.

She turned her head to look at me, eyes flicking to the loudly snoring Leo.

"Tomorrow, I can go over it with both of you. Right now, I just need to do this one more time,” Tandy lied. It wasn’t going to be one more time, but fifty more times, a hundred.

Her skill triggered, knitting the weave back together like it had a thousand times. I watched as the skill worked, the golden magic connecting each thread and pulling the fabric together.

She glanced at me guiltily as she ripped the fabric again.

"I have a theory about skills," she whispered as though the explanation was her apology. Maybe it was. "I think all skills, martial, magical, crafting, [Mundane], and [Adventurer] are magic."

Her words made no sense. Everyone knew that [Mundane] and [Adventurer] skills were completely different, and that [Mages] like her, or Lael Voss, were few and far between.

It took a special type of [Adventurer] to wield true magic. The great wonders of the world had all been done with greater magic than modern [Mages] could even imagine. It was a class that was in decline.

"That's ridiculous." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Tandy's expression darkened.

"And that's why I hadn't told you,” she dismissed me, returning to her fabric. "[Detect Weave], [Seamless Fix]."

Eventually, sleep found me in the hot, stuffy attic. I dreamed of muttered skills and a hibernating bear.

Meredeath shook me awake.

"Is it really morning?" I asked groggily.

"Yep, and breakfast is waiting. Get dressed. I’ll meet you downstairs." Meredeath made sure we were all awake before skipping downstairs like a ray of sunshine. I refused to imagine why she was in a good mood.

"I hate mornings," I said, carefully stretching so I didn't boop Richard. He was awake, but ill-tempered until he ate breakfast.

Tandy looked at me bleary-eyed.

We made an odd group sitting in a booth. Meredeath and Leo cheerily made small talk with the one waitress on duty, while Tandy and I slumped over cups of coffee. Richard sat in the middle of the table, glaring at anyone talking too loudly.

Breakfast was ordered, put on a tab we couldn't pay.

Meredeath unwrapped her silverware from the neatly folded cloth napkin. She placed the cloth in her lap and picked up her mug of coffee, blowing on it gently.

“How’d you all sleep?” she asked, taking a small sip.

“Good, and you?” Tandy responded, mirroring Meredeath’s actions.

“Very good,” Meredeath said with a smile that made my stomach nauseous.

Leo reached across the table to grab the canister of sugar. He spooned a heavy amount into his coffee before offering it up to the table. I shook my head, preferring black coffee.

"So, we've got our first real [Quest]." -- "I need to tell you about my family's progression strategy."

Meredeath and Tandy talked over each other.

"[Quest] first, then strategy," I said, making the call. I needed food in me before I heard the secret that Leo and I had wanted our entire lives.

"Yes, well, I talked to Mistress Del last night. She gave me some details about a problem they've been having. We managed to get the [System] to trigger a formal [Quest], let me share it across the party." Meredeath's eyes went unfocused, and a [System Notification] pinged.

[Quest Granted: [Missing Shipments].

Mistress Del has lost several shipments of supplies in the underground supply tunnels underneath Eddie's Mill. Investigate the missing shipments, identify the culprit, and dispatch the problem. This is a non-Adventurer's Guild quest and is not rated. Base reward: Mistress Del will grant free room and board for a month upon the Identification of the problem. Additional rewards may be available if all criteria are completed. Adventure Onward!]

"Not very specific, is it?" Tandy said, as the waitress plunked down a family-style feast including a mess of scrambled eggs, crispy hashbrowns, and rosemary roasted tomatoes.

"If this is what free room and board looks like, I'm in," I said, starting to scrape some of the food onto a plate.

Save some for me.

"We should still hit up the Adventurer's Guild. There might be some easier [Quests] to work in parallel." No one argued. Meredeath just made sense.

"So Tandy, about that progression strategy," Leo said around a mouth full of eggs.

Tandy nodded, holding her coffee cup with both hands. Her leg was jittering nervously next to mine.

"Yeah, so we're a team," she spoke the words carefully as though not believing what she was about to do. "And it is dumb to hold back information that I know would make us stronger. But," she paused.

The pause extended uncomfortably.

"But, it's your family's secrets, and if we blab to everyone, it will look really bad," I finished for her, taking pity on my friend.

She gave me a grateful nod, "Yes, but it's not only that. We paid a pretty high price to the," her voice dropped, "null--"

Leo gasped, cutting her off from finishing. Meredeath looked at us like we were crazy, but we knew what she was going to say. The nullwrights were a rumored organization that was a power broker. They made soul-rending back-alley deals to grant fame, money, and political power. Admission to a deal was considered a death sentence.

Tandy’s family had sold their souls to the shadows.

I remembered her parents’ sudden divorce. Her grandmother and mom were behind it, I was sure.

Tandy’s face was white, her hands shaking.

What price had they paid?

"I'll explain later," I told Meredeath, not wanting Tandy to chicken out. "Go on, Tandy. We got it. Won't tell a soul."

She took a deep breath, her voice shaking only slightly as she continued, "So if you tell anyone and they find out, I'm dead, and likely my family as well."

We nodded solemnly, agreeing to the unspoken oath. This was serious.

Suddenly, her secretiveness made sense. If Leo or I had made any huge strides in progress, they would have noticed immediately. It all clicked together.

Richard sat on the table, chewing a potato with all of his tentacles as attuned to Tandy.

"I was the first generation of my family to use the shared progression method. It's a simple truth, but when utilized as a strategy, you can build a strong enough base to make it to [Sage]." She paused again. I could see her willing the courage to spill the secret.

"The trick is--"

Stop.

Four pairs of eyes swiveled to Richard. He sat, mouth mashing a potato in his mouth, looking like an overgrown pet slug. His yellow skin glistened with a healthy amount of slime. Swallowing, he looked at us, as though each tentacle examined us in turn.

The nullwrights magically track breaches in contracts.

Tandy swore using a word I'd never heard out of her. I didn't blame her. She'd been seconds away from dooming herself and her family.

Besides, I suspect I know what Tandy was going to reveal. She knows one of the three tenets of progression.

Now that I hadn't predicted. Richard preened under our scrutiny.

"And? Go on already, Richard," Leo pushed. His hands clenched his coffee cup, as though it was the only thing preventing him from slug murder.

Practice makes perfect.

My eyes were glued to Tandy, trying to gauge her reaction. She closed her eyes, giving a faint smile as a tear traced down her cheek.

"That's it?" Leo said, unable to control his anger, slammed his mug down on the table inches away from Richard.

Richard's head swung around, his dark eyes almost glowing.

Did you know that the main reason people lose a skill is due to disuse? That the main reason a skill fails is because someone tried to use it on a project several times larger than they'd ever attempted? His head swung toward me. That specializations are earned through rote? The [Trial Dungeon] kept threatening that your choices matter, why is it so surprising that they do?

I shook my head. Sure, I'd practiced creating nails over and over. I just wanted to master the twist and pull of metal. And Marta had me on breakfasts the first three months I'd been a [Chef], which put me in charge of the morning gruel. I'd always focused on the details, knowing the importance of a foundation. I looked at Tandy, realizing that she and I had shared that passion.

She'd just gone about it a lot smarter. In a way that bent the [System] to her family's will.

I looked at Leo. He was pissed.

"That doesn't explain anything. I wasn't able to even get a class," his words were angry. I didn't blame him. I was mad at myself, the echoes of [Self Flagellation] kicking in.

"How long did you ever try mastering a skill? Staying at a job?" Tandy's voice cut across Leo's anger like fabric scissors across a yard.

"I didn't have a choice. Artie put me to work to make rent." The panic, the heartbreak over years wasted, came through in Leo's voice. I reached for my friend.

He was standing, "This is bullshit. I'm going for a walk. I'll meet you at the Adventurer's Guild in an hour." He left before I could squeak out the words to reach him.

Silence hung about the table.

"So, practicing with your cloth wasn't just your neurosis?" Tandy didn't respond to my comment as I unwound our childhood. "We made fun of you that whole time, and it was all wrapped around your progression strategy?"

The food lost its flavor; it was just texture and regret. How foolish we'd been. I understood Leo's need to flee.

And that's just the first tenet.

"I spent so many years blaming the [System]... and it was my own fault the whole time," I said, despondently as I moved cold scrambled eggs around my plate.

There's a lot to put at the [System's] feet, don’t feel too bad.

I raised my eyes to Richard's. For the first time, I really saw him. He was a theoretical [Immortal] in the confines of a banana slug's body. A shiver of fear traveled up my spine.

"I'm afraid of what else you know," I whispered, glancing at white-faced Tandy.

Richard’s tentacles looked out into space as he absentmindedly reached for a tomato skin.

Red juice sluiced down his chin, and his eyes swung creepily towards me.

You should be afraid.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - [Bonus Chapter] Cole's Guide for Fanged Banana Slug Care

An Unofficial Guide to Fanged Banana Slug Care by Cole Thornfield

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[Note from Cole]: Meredeath requested that I write up a quick pamphlet on how to take care of Richard since she's been in charge of him lately, added guilt by saying her PopPop would love it (can you hear my audible sigh?). Meredeath - I hope you know I wouldn't do this for anyone. Also, fuck you, Tandy, for all your feedback and 'structure' comments. Can't a guy just make a low-effort quick reference guide? Will Leo even read this?

[Note added by Tandy]: Aunt Becky, don't read this, it's full of the 'm' word.

[Note added by Meredeath]: I doubt my friend Christina will ever see this, but avoid the movement section. More 'u' than you can tolerate.

What is a Fanged Banana Slug?

A fanged banana slug is a banana slug with fangs.

Seriously, though, what kind of question is this? Fine.

The fanged banana slug I know has a name, Richard. He's sentient and overtly opinionated. He "bonded" me, a human, which basically means I'm his [Pet]. I wouldn't expect to ever claim the slug is your [Pet], they're kind of like cats that way.

Fanged banana slugs have two decorative canines. They are a bit larger than the average banana slug, at almost a foot long. The one I know likes moisture, heat, chin scratches, judging people, and making slime. I would recommend picking a dire wolf instead if you get a chance.

Diet and Feeding

Fanged banana slugs seem to be omnivores. They will eat any sort of plant matter, including leaves, bark, wood, roots, etc. They rarely eat meat, but don't mind meat-based gravy and sauces. My slug considers himself a "sauce" connoisseur and will taste any sauce available, although cream sauces cause flatulence. Fungus is regarded as a delicacy to be savored. Don't feed them mushrooms unless you've got time for them to moan over texture and flavor profiles. My slug prefers wine cap mushrooms over other varietals.

Fanged banana slugs always seem to want food. There is no time of day or night in which they are not hungry, or might have a leaf hanging out of their mouth. Mood can absolutely be correlated to the last 'snack time.'

If you ask your fanged banana slug what they prefer to eat the most, they will respond with, "the suffering of my enemies" or “the hopes and dreams of my enemies.” However, this is a lie. They snack on the suffering of enemies and allies in equal measure.

Finally, and this is a warning. Banana slugs do not like highly salty foods, and they also do not like alcoholic drinks.

[Note added by Meredeath]: Hot peppers cause drunkenness in fanged banana slugs akin to alcohol in humans.

[Note added by Cole]: I have not personally verified this, and have zero desire to do so. Proceed with caution.

Habitat and Housing

My fanged banana slug likes moist environments. These slugs have an unusual tolerance to water, able to hold their breath for hours underwater. Unlike the hated sea slugs, they do not have any mechanism that allows them to breathe underwater. If left for over 6+ hours, your slug will drown.

My slug has a very high tolerance for heat. This may be unique to him. However, he enjoys sunbathing, being uncomfortably close to campfires, and being hit by lightning. This tolerance for heat does not extend to being cold. Fanged banana slugs will do almost anything to avoid cold environments.

In extreme environments, they have talked about going into estivation, or using a skill called [Estivation]. I have not experienced this with my slug; however, he talks about it being some sort of hibernation event.

[Note added by Leo]: I do know how to read. Also, I suggest never putting a sleeping fanged banana slug onto an icy metal surface like an axe.

[Note added by Tandy]: Don't ask any fanged banana slug for information about this. It will result in a 3-hour long tirade and two days of pouting.

Communication and Interpretation

Fanged banana slug has telepathic communication with its bonded [Pet]. This communication can be extended to [Party] members or other people with the use of additional skills, although you may regret such an extension.

Otherwise, communication is done mainly by a combination of tentacle and body posture, silence, and slime consistency and prevalence. I'd make a table, but the reality is that my fanged banana slug really only communicates six emotions, three of which are some form of annoyance.

Other emotional responses include curling his tentacles inward when he's ashamed, like that time he tried ice cream, or he'll glare at you angrily, which seems to be an indicator of affection. At least that's what I'm telling myself. Finally, his last emotion is anxiety or fear, which comes in the form of a significant increase in slime prevalence and elasticity.

[Note from Leo]: My theory is that he shows happiness by burping.

[Note from Meredeath]: Also, that rumbly purr he does when you scratch his chin.

[Note from Tandy]: He also stretches forward and leans into scratches and pets when he's happy.

[Note from Cole]: Fuck all of you, especially Richard.

Grooming and Hygiene

Fanged banana slugs take care of themselves, or at least mine does. He has a [Clean] skill that will remove most foreign substances. Additionally, he also licks himself like a cat. I haven't figured out why he does this over his [Clean] skill.

[Note from Meredeath]: Have you ever looked at his butt? You won't like the answer.

Movement

Your slug will expect to be carried everywhere by you. You are now just a slug taxi to be used as they will.

Admittedly, a slug's normal movement is a combo of slime and undulation. This is a very slow activity unless they have the skills to improve movement. When I asked Richard about this, he seemed to indicate that there's some 'universal law' that prevents slugs from getting movement enhancements.

Terms commonly associated with slug movement and my commentary: undulation (the best, but most revolting), slithering (not really true, reserved for snakes), gliding (too elegant, but okay in a pinch), squelching (/shudders, I can hear the word), slipping (more useful when using [Peel]), sliming (specific to high slime production moments), inching (too fast), schlepping (makes it sound like they're carrying something which is unlikely), glooping (makes me think of chunky slime, ew), flowing (doesn't explain how they ripple as they move) and ?.

If you have ideas, let me know.

Magical Considerations

For claiming to be [Immortal] and having the frenemies of a [Legendary] hero, my fanged banana slug doesn't seem to have a variety of skills. To date, I've experienced the following:

[Clean] - Self explanatory, he can also extend it over small objects like dishes.

[Glow Worm] - Not sure what this one is actually called, but it allows him to glow. Handy in caves, dungeons, and the digestive system of a leviathan.

"[Immortal]" - Unverified, but my slug claims to be [Immortal] because he 'hasn't died yet.' While I'll admit he's survived some interesting situations, I'm not sure that's an accurate indicator of immortality.

[Identify] - He seems to have some overpowered [Identify] skill.

[Glue] - Sticks to shit, like super strong glue.

[Enlarge] - Self-explanatory. I think this is a passive that constantly works on his ego. This skill appears to triple or quadruple his physical size for a limited time, within a monthly limit.

[Heroic Moment] - He's never told me what this does, but I think it's a buff to other active skills.

[Peel] - This is my slug's favorite skill. It doesn't seem to have a cooldown. [Peel] causes someone to slip when he's underfoot.

[Party Skills]: The slug also shares all party-related skills with his [Pet].

Dangerous Behaviors

Fanged banana slugs exhibit several frustrating and destructive behaviors that are worth noting. I'm going to list some of the more irritating things, but I know their creativity for irritation knows no bounds.

Sliming and snacking on your rations. They get into everything, especially foodstuffs. You can try preventing their snacking by wrapping foodstuffs tightly or placing them in containers. This will not work, and be warned. The slug has an innate ability to sense either the food’s worth, tastiness, or simply your desire to keep it slime-free, which causes them to target it first.

[Note from Leo]: I've had luck just letting my ration bars loose in the bottom of my bag. I don't think Richard likes lint. I've been slime-free since.

Anxiety induced irrational action. Fanged banana slugs can be particularly convincing of perceived threats like bogquackers or a [Lich] of an ex. Take their warnings seriously, but also know it's likely exaggerated.

[Peel] as a snack attack. If your fanged banana slug has the skill [Peel], it is known that they are not above using it as an avenue for attack to receive a snack. Be very wary if walking around with a sandwich that includes lettuce or cucumbers (not pickles).

Anxiety induced sliming. If you don't like moisture, you're not going to like having a slug as a companion. Generally, they produce slime, but in moments of extreme emotion, it can be like a [Water Mage] had a cosmic spell orgasm. Slime gets everywhere.

Numbing slime. This can be both positive and negative. If itchy or experiencing a wound, fanged banana slugs can produce a slime that numbs the area. However, it can also be used to numb anything without a clear reason. This can lead to forgetting a slug is on your shoulders, or a pins and needles feeling as the effect ends.

Ego-assaulting commentary. While I'm sure my slug thinks his comments are 'helpful,' it can be tough at times to put up with his judgment about my decisions. And there's no way to shut him out, outside of going out of range of his telepathic abilities.

Enrichment

As far as I can tell, my slug likes: scratches and pets, food, heat, gossip and drama, causing drama, and cutting commentary.

[Note from Tandy]: He also loves a game called "Let's Annoy Cole."

[Note from Meredeath]: And snuggles.

[Note from Cole]: Fuck both of you.

Emergency Protocols

Hangry - A hangry slug is no joke. They can and will use their fangs on you. My recommendation is to throw plant matter at them, or if they're particularly cranky, try an emergency mushroom. I would suggest having one on hand at any moment; however, half the time my slug secretly eats it before I get to it.

Slime Removal - Slime will get everywhere. To remove most slime stains, scrape off any excess slime, then apply soap. However, for [Glue] stains, it will look like, well, you can imagine. For those, I would suggest a white vinegar-water solution. You’ll smell, but folks won’t look at you like you’re covered in something else.

Flaking Skin - If your slug's skin gets dry enough to flake, this is a sign of poor health. It is essential to keep their environment moist and to coax them into eating. If they refuse to eat, try stroking their ego and applying false compassion (it's hard to be genuine).

Old Flames and Other Threats - If your fanged banana slug has been around a long time, chances are they've made more enemies than friends. Be cautious when approaching individuals who may have known them throughout their long life. Generally, I've found my slug to be very straightforward about his anxiety about these people, or to be incredibly secretive. Either activity should worry you.

Class and Skill Offerings - Be suspicious if your slug wants you to take any specific classes or skills. They usually have an ulterior motive that may or may not be of your benefit.

Being a Jerk - If anyone who reads this manual knows how to make your slug be less of a jerk, please, please let me know.

[Note from Leo]: I wouldn't mind knowing either. We're [Your Mom's Party] from Woodsten.

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[Note from Cole]: There, done. If Meredeath’s PopPop doesn’t like it, he can babysit Richard and rewrite it himself.

[Slime Stain]: [Translated] 3/10 could use less snark and more snacks.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - [Bonus Chapter]: [Loot Drop] for Richard

Richard watched as Rhi Voss talked to Meredeath, explaining the role she was taking upon herself.

It was almost poetic that he'd been relegated to unimportance, sitting on the remnants of a granite pillar as a mere audience member.

Richard replayed the scene from the afternoon.

“And you, Cole. Do you need a [Sponsor] as well?" Rhi's voice whispered to Cole. The old hag had smiled at the yellow slug as she continued, "You have earned it. I couldn't bring myself to kill Tilly after Lael's death."

Richard's vision had gone red with rage. He quivered, wanting to launch from Tandy's shoulders. How dare she!

Cole had looked at him then, his eyes cold. The gills on the side of his neck flapped, struggling to deal with unhydrated air. Richard couldn't meet Cole's gaze. He'd looked away, ashamed for the first time in a while.

Cole had to have responded, but Richard hadn't heard. Rhi probably dampened the air with some magic. She'd lost a lot of her power over the years, but no one could truly challenge her here in her domain. It's what kept him locked up for years.

Richard glanced up to Meredeath, learning from her and possibly Cole’s new [Sponsor], holding a single green flame in an outstretched hand.

"You're back," Ter Lance, the skeletal warrior, ambled up. Still clad in Rhi's illusion, he looked like he once had, strong and young and full of purpose.

Yes, fate’s a bastard, isn’t it?

The tall warrior leaned against the pillar casually. They'd been friends, once. Even when that friendship ended, the two understood Rhi better than anyone.

"Can't say that I'm happy you're back," the skeletal warrior said, stating the simple truth.

The feeling is mutual.

They stood silently for a moment, as green flames flickered around Meredeath's daggers.

It's been a while since I've seen the green flames of Niyatgra.

Ter Lance shifted, his armor groaning in protest.

"It's good to see her engage with the world."

As much as Richard wanted to, he couldn't agree. Rhi waking up and participating in the world was about as unlikely as him taking up arms. If they were both drawn back into the conflict, then things were much more dire than anyone expected.

Or maybe it was just centuries long boredom.

Rhi looked over at Richard again and gave him a much too obvious wink as she waved Cole over, cracking some unheard of joke. Richard would have bristled if it hadn't been for the decade of experience he had trapped in a cage with hundreds of other banana slugs trying to pretend to be something he wasn't.

I'm not sure what it means.

Ter Lance looked at him through the slits of his now-full helm. Richard could make out two dots of green fire burning within the knight's mask.

"It's movement. Change. Maybe I will be able to rest." The skeleton's voice sounded tired.

Richard had known Ter Lance as a man. They'd been friends, then rivals, then something else? Theoretical immortality did that. It softened the edges of childhood grudges. The warrior had made sure to keep the captive slugs, including Richard, well fed and hydrated. Richard had always suspected the man had known which of the slugs had been him.

What have you been doing for the past five hundred years, if not resting?

The knight gave a hearty laugh, earning a dark look from Rhi. Both of them ignored her, even if they had taken notice of her flashing eyes. For once, she wasn't a bone of contention between the two.

"You really haven't been paying attention. The Incursion is here. That was no lie. I've been fighting and losing ground for the last fifty years.” Ter Lance’s words burned.

Richard coiled tight, his mind leaping to defend himself.

Had he been that oblivious? Getting around was hard for a slug. He couldn't keep tabs on everything, everyone.

But he'd been trapped in Rhi's prison for a decade. Ignoring the 'fight' happening right under his tentacles. Had he been that out of touch?

He'd been shocked to see the [Corrupt] guardian. It happened from time to time, but on the cusp of the [Trial Dungeon] portal?

Then Tilly. Poor, old Tilly. She had to be the oldest Tidemaw in existence, protected by Rhi's magic. Most wild Tidemaws were killed before they got even half Tilly's size. Her [Corruption] was surprising, but at her age, even a bite from a [Corrupt] mouse could have infected her.

The water dogs had been rough, although their [Corruption] had been new. They'd been Lael's pets, good-natured and playful. They'd been lucky the dogs' [Corruption] had been so new. Otherwise, they might not have been so influenced by Leo's axe.

How close are we to losing it all?

Ter Lance shifted again. He bent down, rubbing the leg that had detached during the fight.

"You wouldn't expect it to hurt, but reattaching the limb with magic aches for weeks," he said. His bony hand rubbed on his bony knee, breaking the illusion of armor and fine clothes.

We are not what we once were. Nothing was. Richard wished he'd realized that when he was younger. He'd wasted so much time trying to reach for... the goal, he'd forgotten to enjoy the journey.

"We're closer than we were yesterday. And I'm getting tired. She is, too," Ter Lance said, leaving the obvious unsaid.

Which is why she's doing this. Richard watched as Meredeath's eyes began to glow as she swept her gaze around the palace, examining everything in a new light.

Ter Lance fumbled in his satchel, pulling out the glint of something tiny and metallic. It caught Richard’s attention immediately, as hope swelled in his chest.

"I have a gift for you. I found it when we first captured you." The [Death Knight] held out a tiny item, sized for a slug. Richard's heart leapt. He'd received the boon ages ago as part of a quest reward and had been lost without it for the last decade. It'd almost made imprisonment unbearable.

He slimed forward, taking the gift from Ter Lance in his mouth. The slug marveled at the familiar taste in his mouth as he adjusted it to fit snugly over his tooth. With a snap, the [Tooth of Holding] snapped into place.

Richard mentally raced through his alchemical inventory. Stacks of the [Mundane] flew through his mental filing system, white pine, black pine, jack pine, lodge pole pine, short needle pine, each tree species he'd met carefully kept. Each plant, including yarrow, plantain, lacewing, dandelion, basil, tomato, beet, oregano, and curry, was stored meticulously by root, leaf, flower, and stem.

Even the rare [Everleaf] he'd kept from the last [Evertree] sat still, carefully preserved.

It's all still here.

Richard didn't bother suppressing the wonder in his voice.

"Yes, quite the collection you've got. On brand for a slug."

Richard looked up at Ter Lance, tentacles extending in surprise.

You had this the whole time? That meant what? The old [Death Knight] had known who Richard was the entire time?

The knight nodded as he watched Rhi. Neither of them was willing to say the truth out loud within her domain. Richard ran his tongue along the tooth. It felt good, like a piece of him had been returned. Like, taking on the world with a couple of farm boys wasn't so crazy.

If Ter Lance could defy his mistress after all that time, then perhaps there was hope for the world yet. With a thought, he turned the cap bone-white, hiding it from the world.

I guess it's time to get to work.

"The work never ends," Ter Lance replied, his judgment obvious.

The fight, for those who cared and mattered, never ended.

How much could a slug matter?

How much could a couple of losers make a difference?

Meredeath's boots lit up green. The glow reflected in Cole's eyes as he watched.

Maybe even a slug had a part to play. Maybe there was hope yet.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 45: The Things We Carry

"I don't understand why we're here," Tandy said, as she sat on a bottom bunk bed in what could only be described as an attic hallway to nowhere.

"We are here because this room is a copper a night. And the mistress of the house was willing to take us in, even though we had no one to vouch for our character," Meredeath explained slowly, as though Tandy were an idiot.

I'd vouch for you.

"Like your opinion is worth anything." Sometimes, I just wish Richard would shut up.

"Look, I know this isn't your scene, but the rent is cheap. We'll be treated fairly and left alone." Meredeath looked at the three of us. "Unless you want to explore?"

Her voice rose hopefully, eyeing Tandy and me. I chuckled, imagining trying to navigate the clubs we'd walked by. No part of me was prepared to explore. It'd been a long day.

"Maybe later," Tandy lied for the three of us. "It's been a long month. Tonight, I just want to get some sleep."

Meredeath nodded, taking her words at face value.

"Anyone got any food?" Leo asked.

My stomach rumbled. It was still angry that I hadn't sold Richard for some spiced nuts.

"I've still got a bit of granola left," Tandy said, as she began digging in her bag. The three of us looked at each other over our friend. We'd all independently concluded that if we had to have one more day of her granola...

We ate granola anyway. Even Richard, who mainly had been subsisting on weeds. We had one copper left, which wasn't enough to buy much of anything, and we decided to keep it just in case we couldn't find work the next day. Everything hinged on the quest board and what was available. The room had a door and a lock, which was better than all of the barns we'd slept in.

When I'd imagined the [Adventurer's] life, I hadn't imagined straw cots and barn lofts. It'd been swinging swords and slaying monsters. I hadn't considered the cost of feeding and housing four people.

By the time we'd gotten settled, we opted to stay in for the night. The attic was on the fourth story of a bar and theatre. I had the impression that “theatre” might be a generous term for the type of shows that went on, but part of the deal Meredeath got on the room included being seen as little as possible around the clientele. I think everyone but Richard was relieved.

It meant, however, that for the first time in weeks, I could empty my bag and get comfortable. It'd been constant movement since we stayed at Rhi's dusty palace.

I pulled out my rolled-up quilt. It'd held up remarkably well, thanks to Richard's [Clean] skill and a [Reenforce] skill that Tandy still had. My mom had made the geometric design with my favorite colors. The green fabric had mostly faded, and the blue had turned a purply hue.

Even though it was worn, it always reminded me that someone cared about me.

It has become a little more complicated in recent years. I was working on letting go of my mom's disappointment in me, and trying to keep the love, but it was a work in progress.

Next was my untouched toolkit. I’d thought about selling it, but some part of me still hoped we’d need it.

The last bits in my backpack were my books. When I'd gotten a chance, I'd wrapped them in wax paper, which saved all three from a constant dunking in various liquids. I had Tinkering for Beginners, which was a gem of a book. It'd walked me through making each tool in my toolbox, but not much further.

I also had Monsters of the Frontier. I grabbed this book with some faint hope that it would prove helpful. Flipping it open, a faded picture of a bogquacker stared back at me. The description was nonsense: “a hellacious quacker from the fifth circle of hell.”

Leafing through it quickly, I confirmed what I already knew: no mentions bone warriors, cutwood, or dunglords. The tidemaw description had been way out of touch. We’d already outgrown Monsters of the Frontier. I tossed the book I’d obsessed over as a kid into the ‘sell’ pile.

"I'm going to go downstairs." Meredeath paused, looking at the collection of items strewn over my bed. "You sure you don’t want to join me?"

A part of me yearned to say yes. To be that guy, but I found myself shaking my head. I just needed some peace to get my pack under control. To recenter myself on who I had been.

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'm exhausted," I heard myself saying. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her sweep her eyes to Tandy and Leo, then shrugged and head downstairs.

"You don't need a girlfriend, you're already engaged," Leo said, with a wide smile. It'd been the first rib he'd given me since Niyatgra.

My face was hot as I went back to my pack. I took out my dad's map, holding it gingerly. Richard had insisted it was almost indestructible, but I'd had twenty-five years of parental-enforced fear over ruining the map.

I unrolled it. I could bring it up in my interface, but there was something about seeing it on the magical vellum myself. I carefully traced our journey so far, from Woodsten to Bear Ridge to the ruins of Niyatgra and our slower trek to Eddie's Mill. The world to the west of the Ursine Wall was pretty detailed. The east was blank.

Richard sat on my pillow, slowly crunching through a pile of granola. I wasn't sure how he was even grinding the bits of grain up.

"Richard, where is the Library of Alta?" I asked. I'd unrolled the map a few times, trying to memorize the foreign city names and trade routes. The world was a lot bigger than I'd ever imagined.

Richard ground another bit of granola, cracking it in his mouth.

It's not on your map.

"I know, that's why I'm asking."

It's on the eastern side of the Ursine Wall, by the northern sea.

I frowned. The eastern side of the Ursine Wall was relegated to the wastelands. We'd been taught nothing survived in the monster-overrun east. The Ursine Wall had been raised in the cataclysm of the last age to protect everyone. How could a functioning library be out there?

"Is the library still standing?" Tandy asked. I hadn't told anyone about the extra stop Richard and I had upon exiting the dungeon.

It stands, for now. As ever, the Incursion threatens all human civilization. The Library of Alta has withstood much, but I've lived long enough to understand that nothing lasts forever.

"That's rich, coming from someone who claims to be [Immortal]," Leo muttered.

Before Richard could respond, I asked a question I'd been dying to ask, "What exactly is the Incursion? Rhi wouldn't answer my questions."

Richard's head came up, and his tentacles wavered away from each other.

Despite having lost touch with reality, Rhi was remarkably insightful. I'll fill you in once you complete your first official [Veteran] level quest.

"Why? Why make us wait?" I was tired of Richard's haughty superiority. What was he holding back?

Honestly? I don't want you running off and dying before you have a chance.

“Oh.”

Suddenly, the room seemed way too small for the four of us. I thrust my pack on the bed.

"I'm going to go get some air," I said.

I closed the door behind me as I carefully walked down the dim, narrow stairs. They used the magical glowmoss as a light source here, too, but the moss hadn't been recharged in a long time. The establishment didn't seem to rent out its attic hallway rooms often.

As I got down to the second story, I opted to keep walking. The second story was dedicated to an activity I didn't want to think about too hard. I stood at the base of the stairs to the first floor. Music and voices spilled up the stairs. The bar sounded full. For a moment, I could imagine it being the Ram's Horn with one of the traveling bards set up in the corner.

It was louder, maybe a festival weekend where everyone's family came in to visit, drink, and dance. I stood, leaning against the wall with my hand on the handle. The servant's stairs were empty this time of night. The ebb and flow of music and murmurs and the uneven thump of dancers sounded so normal.

The doorknob suddenly flew out of my hand as someone opened the door. Before me stood the mistress of the house, the woman who'd led us to the attic. She wore in exotic silks, smelling of lavender and spice, her red lips and rosy cheeks loud in their artifice.

"What do we have here?" Her voice was deep and full. Eyebrows raised, she waited for an answer.

I glanced out past her, dashing all the illusions that this was home. Dancers stood on a stage decked out in bright feathers and little else. People sat at tables in fancy gold-threaded waistcoats and dresses that hugged the body. This place would be an absolute scandal in Woodsten.

"Sorry," I mumbled, trying to think of an excuse. "I just needed some air."

The mistress's eyes narrowed as she smiled warmly.

"Not much air in the stairwell. I was about to bring up some dinner for you folks, it looks like it has been a long journey." She held up a metal rack that held four bowls of stew, with rolls balancing on each bowl. It smelled divine, a rich, meaty brown sauce with potatoes and carrots.

"Wow, that's, thank you." It didn't take a genius to be grateful. This woman had no reason to treat us kindly. I scrambled to stand. "I can take that up, if you want. Save you the trip."

"That would be lovely, dear boy. My knees are not what they used to be." She handed the rack over. I balanced it carefully.

"Why are you doing this?" The question came out before I could stop myself.

"Doing what?" she said, her smile widening at my question, as though daring me to be more specific.

"Helping us, being kind." I gestured at the stew in my right hand.

"Do I need a reason to be kind?" Her question dared me to be specific. My face was already red, so I might as well go for it.

"I just never would have thought— here," I stuttered, realizing halfway through that I was being insulting.

"You never thought to find a kindness here. It's okay, I get that a lot. You're new, and a bit out of place, so I'll take that question out of ignorance, not hate." I nodded, grateful. "My people," she waved at the dancers, "have received little kindness in the world. Not unlike, I would imagine, your little group. Kindness hurts no one, and it can make all the difference to a soul."

Her eyes were crusted in a bright blue eyeliner, surrounded by thinly shaped eyebrows, and yet I saw the same warmth that I'd seen in Marta's eyes.

"I think I understand."

"Good boy… now run upstairs. There isn't anything for you here tonight.” I knew a dismissal when I heard one.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“Mistress Del, to you. Meredeath told me you were [Adventurer’s] right?” She kept speaking, not waiting for an answer. “You look a little shiny to be [Veterans], but I’ve got a little job that needs doing. Do you think your crew is up for it?”

“Yes!” I said, with the first real hope since we’d entered Eddie’s Mill.

“Such confidence, young one. Let’s talk over breakfast in the morning.”

The door, not unkindly, clicked shut in front of me.

Stumbling Up: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 44: The Hustle and Bustle

"Once we're into Eddie's Mill, we need to grab some rooms and take a look at the quest board." Tandy was doing what she normally did, which was ordering us around. I shared a smile with Meredeath. It was her turn to poke our fearless leader.

"I was planning on shopping first. I need to get my boots resoled, and that last leaf slime left a stain I can’t get out," Meredeath said nonchalantly, knowing each word was going to irritate Tandy. She reached up to pet Richard. "Besides, the slug wants to check out the produce stalls. From what we've heard, Eddie's Mill is big enough to have a full market. Got to take advantage of it."

Persimmons are in season.

He played along, making lip-smacking sounds at us all.

"Seriously, guys, we don't have that much coin left. We need to pay for our rooms first before we go spending it." Tandy never did pick up when we were teasing her.

Usually, Leo joined in on the banter, but he hadn’t been himself since we left Rhi. A lot had changed for all of us, but Leo’s unnatural silence felt heavier. If I didn't know better, I'd think my friend had been cursed.

I was going to talk to Tandy. See what she thought. But I just couldn’t find a moment alone with her.

"I guess we can check out the hotel first. But I have to get my boots resoled. It's an equipment issue, and those take priority," Meredeath said, parroting back Tandy's reasoning when she denied Meredeath's request to get a mundane onyx ring. In her defense, we couldn't afford the [Enchanted] ring that would have been useful.

Tandy eyed Meredeath as though she expected to be pushed harder. Meredeath just innocently scratched Richard under the chin. It wasn't that we weren't on the same page as far as expenses. None of us wanted to sleep on the ground again. It was just— it would be nice to pretend for once that we were doing better than we were.

High potential or not, [Your Mom's Party] was just another [Adventurer Party] looking for the next quest that wouldn't kill us. We'd hit the road after the run in with Rhi Voss, and it'd been just run-of-the-mill leaf slimes, bogquackers, rats of unusual dispositions, and escort quests. I didn't mind the lack of near death experiences.

It'd given me time to get used to my gills without a life-threatening circumstance. I could now keep up with everyone. Tandy told me the gasping was just in my head, and she'd been right, to a point. You get used to anything if you experience it enough, and breathing is an every moment of your life experience.

Rhi had given the best suggestion before we left. Wearing a wet bandana around my neck. My gills weren't nearly as angry when they were damp.

Eddie's Mill was the next major city west of Dusridge. We'd stopped at all the little villages and hamlets along the way, making sure to clear out their quest boards. Most of the quests hadn't given us more than a few coppers and a night in a barn. The people were kind and hospitable, but they had country problems that didn't even trigger [System] rewards.

None of us minded those, after the constant terror of the [Trial Dungeon] and Meredeath's quest for a [Sponsor]. The quests were the type my folks might have and were worth doing. What they weren't doing, however, was giving us new skills. It was time to get serious about being an [Adventurer], and Eddie's Mill was the place to do it.

We crested a hill and got a view of the town. The eastern edge of the city butted up against a large river, nearly thirty feet wide. Two bridges spanned the river, one wide with a line of wagons waiting to be admitted. The other was narrow, meant for foot and single-horse traffic. The buildings along the river looked muddy. A few small docks peppered the shore. From what I could see, Eddie's Mill looked to be thriving.

A giant mill sat in the middle of town, with what looked like a tented market around it. Otherwise, buildings in varying sizes and opulence showed a patchwork of roofs from straw to the eastern style tile to the northern slate. Eddie's Mill seemed to have a cauldron of aesthetic influences, most of which I'd only read about.

"You done gawking, country boy?" Meredeath said, slapping me on the back. "Can you take the slug for a while? I hate getting all the looks." She batted her eyes at me in exaggeration.

"Sure, hand him over," I said. I didn't think she was actually flirting with me anymore. It was just how she was, but it didn't make me immune to her charms.

I'm not a piece of luggage to be bandied about!

"You are until you grow legs, big guy," I said, responding to his outrage.

If someone is carrying this team, it’s me.

I didn't bother responding to that one. Even if he was right, and I'm not sure he had the evidence to prove it, I would die multiple times before I'd admit it.

Tandy marched us right up to the foot traffic gate. The bridge guard looked at us, bored.

"State your business and it’s a copper each," the guard said, trying to suppress a yawn.

"[Adventurers], and why do we need to pay a copper each?" Tandy said what we were all thinking.

The guard looked at us, eyebrows raised.

"[Adventurers]? Well then, it's a silver each for such accomplished folk," he stood a little straighter, excited at the payout. He was outfitted in worn leathers dyed black, in what I assumed was the style of the town's guards. We didn't have four silver. We hadn't seen that type of coin offered on any quest board.

"Sorry about my cousin here." The guard looked between Tandy and Meredeath, who didn't look remotely related. "She's got dreams, a bit muddled from falling out of the neighbor's apple tree if you know what I mean." I didn't know what she meant, but the guard smiled like he understood. "We're here visiting our auntie down in the water district. My mum told us we needed to take these two to 'protect' us." Meredeath rolled her eyes, communicating clearly what she thought of our 'protection.'

"Ah, visiting relatives. Can I get your names and the name of your auntie?" The man held a clipboard with a ledger of entrants. "It'll still be a copper each for using the bridge." We had six coppers on our person, but we weren't going to be able to afford anything once we got inside.

"Tandy, can you hand the man the four coppers your momma gave you? And our aunt is Millie, that's M-I-L-L-I-E." Meredeath said the words so smoothly, I almost started believing her.

Tandy, still shocked by the prices, opened up her coin pouch and started fishing for the fee.

"But we've already crossed the bridge," Leo piped up. He was as irritated as Tandy. "What would you do if we couldn't pay? We'd have to use the bridge again."

The guard looked at him, eyeing the axe strapped to his back.

"It's a tax to pay for the bridge construction. If you don't have the fee, then I won’t let you in. Do you have a problem?"

Meredeath stepped between the guard and Leo, "No problem. Don't mind him. A lot of cotton up in Woodsten."

The guard held out his hand, collecting Tandy's coins. He waved us, dropping three of the coins into the collection bin. I watched as he didn't even try to hide as he pocketed the fourth copper.

I opened my mouth to object when I got a sharp elbow to my ribs. Message received.

We walked into Eddie's Mill, three country bumpkins who didn't know the first thing about a city. Meredeath, for once, seemed to know more about our world than we did.

As first impressions go, the guard gave us an accurate one. Eddie's Mill was loud, muddy, and hard to navigate. Even Tandy was intimidated by the strangeness of it all. People hollered in a variety of accents and languages. I couldn't make out anything, except that we had to keep walking.

Meredeath took charge, leading us away from the river. I was pretty sure she didn't have any more of an idea of where to go than I did. But I was more than willing to let her make that decision. Even Tandy let Meredeath take the lead as overwhelmed as I was.

The fishy smell of the docks district gave way to the smell of bakeries and roasted nuts. None of which we could afford. That didn’t stop me from eyeing the nut-covered croissants and cream horns dusted with chocolate.

A cart sold roasted nuts dusted in cinnamon and sugar. I’d take on another tidemaw for some nuts.

Richard drooled a bit, leaning off of Tandy’s shoulder to sniff at the air. The thick glob fell right on my boot.

I’d pawn Richard for a good pastry.

She marched us up to higher ground, then angled us in the opposite direction from the towering mill. Tracing along the river district as though she were on a mission.

"You three stay here," Meredeath said, pushing us into a little alley. "I'll be right back."

The street she'd taken us to was lined with buildings that supported a type of business I didn't even know existed.

Each bar had a distinct style, made plain in garish murals on the front of the windowless establishment. As though that wasn’t enough of a clue as to our whereabouts, the eaves were all painted red, indicating exactly what part of town we were in.

Leo, Tandy, and I looked like sheep that had wandered into a bear den. None of us could stop gawking at the women and men who called out to passersby.

Tandy handed me Richard as she pretended to comb through her bag. He wrapped around my shoulders, tentacles high, so he had the best angle to watch people.

They were caricatures of people, painted to draw the eye. Heavy floral perfume warred with the musky scent of cologne. Red lips, large tits, bejeweled codpieces, curly flamboyant hair, dresses that clung or loosened ties, every bit of artifice was built to entice and tantalize. Or at least I thought.

I'd always considered myself experienced enough. I didn't have Leo's popularity, but I wasn't an innocent. But I was beginning to understand my worldliness had limits, as I stood awkwardly in our little niche waiting for Meredeath to return.

I hoped the quest board had something better than rat duty. If not, we might have to take up jobs scrubbing codpieces.

Tandy and Leo weren't better off.

This is my kind of entertainment.

He said it with the right snark that indicated he was talking about our discomfort, not the people selling their bodies around us.

“I regret picking you,” I told the self-important slug.

Richard smugly preened on my shoulder. I refused to let him see me smile.