Grinding: The Ultimate Equalizer

"This is stupid", Gert grumbles as she grudgingly pick another spiky yellow fruit from the low-hanging branch that audibly groans with the weight of them, clearly left unharvested for far too long.

"I like it!" Mo-Mo chirps from her perch on your shoulders, shaking the branch to send several of the things falling into the makeshift basket you threw together. "I'm helping!"

Gert grumbles again, dumping her fruit into the basket. "You only like it because it's the only thing you aren't terrible at."

Mo-Mo sniffles at that, but to her credit puffs out her cheeks in defiance rather than her usual response, which would have been to beak down bawling. "You're just mad because I'm better at this than you are! So myeh!" She squints an eye and sticks out her tongue at Gert, then squeaks in surprise as the big female pushes her off of your shoulders to tumble onto the ground.

You quickly move between them, putting your hands on Gert's shoulders as Mo-Mo wraps herself around your leg and whimpers. Gert's hackles are raised, you'd better do something. "Gert, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

She snarls. "I don't wanna do this! I wanna hit things!" She hefts her big stick and pointy rock and growls with barely contained need. You should have expected this; how could you have given Gert such a great stick and pointy rock and thought she would be content to just pick fruit? Better find out a way to handle this.

"Look, Gert...," you start, hoping you stumble upon a solution, "there are a lot of fruits here. Way more than we're gonna need! After we're done, why don't we come back and smash a bunch of them?"

The big female tilts her head to one side, still looking as if she might bare her teeth but at least intrigued now. This is working! "Yeah, yeah!" You continue excitedly, your wagging tail whapping Mo-Mo in the face. "You're so strong, and with your big stuck and pointy rock? I bet you could really BASH fruit! More than anyone ever has before!"

Gert's tail is wagging now too, undercutting her **** expression. "Well....okay. Fine. Maybe. If we're done soon, at least."

You nod enthusiastically as you help Mo-Mo up. "Just a little more! We just need to fill the basket!"

She nods, and the three of you set to it. You hope to shit that this goes as you hope it will, because if it doesn't you have a sinking feeling that it's your head Gert will be bashing, rather than any fruit.

You shush the whimpering Mo-Mo before peeking through the bush that conceals the three of you, Gert stoically bearing the weight of the overstuffed basket of fruit. Okay...okay. It's just like you remember it: there's the little campsite, with the raggedly tent and the sputtering bonfire. And there's the skinny old monster sitting beside it, clutching his belly and groaning. He looks so much like those fortress monsters, but he's different, way less threatening. He's got a big white beard, and thick red pajamas, and he's wearing a pot on his head. And he doesn't have one of those things that fires pointy sticks that kill you, so that's a big plus. Okay, alright. Time to do this.

You nod to your companions and start forward out of the brush, Gert attempting to disguise her anticipation with an air of boredom while Mo-Mo makes no effort to hide her fear, hiding behind Gert's much larger form. The old monster doesn't even notice you until you're halfway to his campfire, and even then only because he stands up to stretch.

When he does see the three of you, though, you're a little pleased that he manages to seem shocked, stumbling backwards and tripping over his seat to land on his butt. He scrambles up and starts looking around his camp for...well, for what? Eventually he settles on the pot on his head, snatching it from his bald dome to shake it in what's maybe a threatening manner. "Stay back! You think you'll catch Moots nappin'?!"

Um, you're not sure actually. Gert seems like she wants to give it a go, the big female's body tensing, but you're pretty certain it's not a good idea. Even if you did win, which isn't a sure thing, that's what, maybe a level? Maybe two? Maybe not even one! And then that's it, forever. No no, your way is much better.

You clear your throat and reach behind you, taking one of the spiky fruits in your paw. God, what were those words you heard the players use months ago? You always know what they are saying but monsters never been able to understand the mixture of yips, body language and smells that mongrels use to communication. Or maybe they're just too preoccupied killing you. "Grrf....erm...kwast? You mumble, trying to make the unfamiliar words form. "You. You kwest? You k...quast? Quest?"

The old monster's wild eyes shoot up at that last attempt, words spilling out of his mouth unbidden. "Well TARNATION! Ol' Moots's as hungry as a he can be! Iffin ya'll 'venturers'd be kind enough ta bring him ten o' those fruits he smells over yonder, why, he'd SURE'N be grateful!"

You quickly shove the fruit towards him, the old monster almost as shocked by the sight of it as he is by the speech he just automatically reeled through. On cue his stomach groans in a truly epic rumble, his tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. He hesitantly reaches out his a trembling hand, looking as if he's trying to wrench his arm back and desperately snatch the fruit at the same time. It takes him an eternity but eventually his fingers land on the spiky fruit, and he takes it out of your hand.

>1 of 10<

You, Mo-Mo and Gert all stiffen as a bright little voice fills your head, Moots either not hearing it or too distracted by the fruit he shoves to his nose. The old monster takes a deep, shuddering whiff of the thing, letting out a dreamy sigh. "Ohhhh...it's been so long....No one's come to bring Ol' Moots fruit for...for..."

He trails off as he notices you're extending him a second fruit, you and the other two mongrels brightly grinning as your tails waggle in an ecstatic blur. He doesn't have to think long before he snags the fruit, and then the next, and then the next until he finally takes the tenth fruit.

*ding*

Gert gasps and drops the basket as Mo-Mo clutches you even tighter, a wave of sensation flooding the three of you unlike anything you've ever experienced. You...you did it. You're Level 2.

• Level 2 Mongrel Packling
• HP: 10
• Melee Attack: 3
• Ranged Attack: 0
• Weaknesses: None
• Special Abilities: None

Maybe it's not such a big improvement? A bit more health and a little more attack, and that's it? But you don't care. You're Level 2, and the three of you are the only Level 2 Packlings you've ever seen. Gert lets out a delirious whoop and Mo-Mo giggles uncontrollably as you all grab each others paws and begin to wildly dance around in a circle, cheering and howling and exulting in the greatest feat that any of your kind has ever achieved.

Sure, you're happy your plan worked, but this is bigger than any one packling's victory. This is a victory for your entire race. This is a way forward.

Moots has already finished the last fruit when Gert snatches another one from the basket and pushes it into his chest, her grin all but bursting off of her face. "Kwast! Quest!"

The only monster is grinning too as he opens his mouth and his speech spills out again. ""Well TARNATION! Ol' Moots's as hungry as a he can be! Iffin ya'll 'venturers'd be kind enough ta bring him ten o' those fruits he smells over yonder- "

By the time you've finally given him the full basket of fruits, ten at a time, Moots is surrounded by dozens of fruit rinds and seems to be happier than he's ever been. But not as happy as you and your two companions. Because now you're level five, and the world sudden looks as if it has a place for you.

You romp in the orchard late into the night, laughing and howling and dancing in glee as you fill the basket all over again. Every now and then Gert plucks a particularly large fruit and hurls it into the air, her stick and pointy rock catching it mid-fall with a mightier bash than any packling has ever managed to explode the sticky thing in a glorious burst of juice and pulp.

You and Mo-Mo cheer her on in rapturous glee, even as you're all covered in stinky yellow goop. This is a celebration, and the first real cause for one any mongrel has ever had. And what makes it all better is that the orchard is filled with more fruit than you could ever trade, or smash.

And so you'll have cause for celebration again tomorrow. And the next day. And for who knows how many days! You don't know where it will eventually lead, but it's the brightest path you or any of your kind has ever been set down. So you're going to celebrate. For yourselves, and for all of your pack mates won't don't even know yet that they have a future.

You don't mind congratulating yourself a little, now. Pretty big idea, Shh. Pretty big idea.

• Level 5 Mongrel Packling
• HP: 25
• Melee Attack: 7
• Ranged Attack: 0
• Weaknesses: None
• Special Abilities: None