Nevermind that! It's a trap! ...a slow, slow trap.

Farming.

You heard the term before, off-hand from a Player in a Tavern a long time ago as your host of the time tried to find a Party to join.

Farming, not as in raising crops, but instead as in raising hell upon some poor monster far, far of their leagues as they spawned and respawned to meet their swift deaths over and over, all while Players vied for some rare item drop only one-in-one hundred of their incarnations could even have.

It was boring, at least for Players. Despairing for the monster, but boring for the Players.

And Players, above all, were lazy.

With that burst of speed — that Smacked Yesterday ability — your Aware Wolf's open palm slammed into the first Specterbold's head. The slime splattered off its face, the whole gelatinous body rippling as it staggered, not even getting the chance to swipe as her other palm flew forward and pulverized the skull into a cloud of dust. That ethereal green mist floated through the air just for a second before forming that small gem. She grabbed it before it was even fully there. plunk~.

So lazy, they have creatures of their own to gather resources.

Her fist slammed down on the slime puddle. It vanished without a trace.

This Player, though.... This "T". They may be the first genuinely brilliant one you've been aware of.

The claw from the second ooze jabbed forward towards her side, it want wide as she stepped forward, spinning into a motion that sent her foot rocketing to the sky in a jump-kick shrouded in phantasmal blue energy, catching the jaw of the kobold in the ooze on her way up. Her fist crashed into the bare skull on her way down as it staggered back. Her other fist dispatched the remainder of the slime.

plunk~

They gamed the system. They saw the grand design of the Developer Gods and took them to task, taking a worker that was meant solely for resource into collection, and manipulating the Gods' own boons to **** her farm the monsters here for their green gems.

You would be impressed, if you weren't filled with a mix of indignant anger and encroaching dread.

There were now five other of these specter-kobold-oozes surrounding the two of you; some had one arm, others two. One lacked a head, instead its glowing core was housed within the ribcage that floated in the center of the pale, dark grey slime.

Your Aware Wolf took a three-step approach and launched a curled hand into the next before it could approach. Slime rippled, losing cohesiveness and it swung in response. Slime retracted from the skeleton's claws, letting them slice through the air and into the straw hat, deflected. A knee to the core shook the rest of the slime away, a snap of the leg and the follow-through kick sent it shattering against the wall. The gem clattered to the floor.

A fourth one slashed as the decored ooze again was stamped out of existence.

"Damn the priority order!" you hissed but much too late — the claws ripped through the side of her robe, slicing into her side. "Back! Listen to me and step back!"

It swiped again, only for the hat to be shoved into its face, pushing the whole of the slime's body to the side and its claw only caught stray threads of the gash in her robe. The she-wolf retreated several steps back to her waypoint, but no further. Blood seeped down her side. She didn't even so much as flinch.

"Seams sever on that Player's trousers!" You scowled and checked that timer again: five minutes. Her health was fine, but that slash put a dot of bleeding on her, and another of something called "Disease: Slime Rot" — your Aware Wolf flinched, and the disease dot vanished. A second dot of bleed manifested in its place, stacking on the first. The ability the smarmy Detective turned on, the Bleeding Cure. Its effect was clear now, even if its description could had used less **** of the Developer God who penned it.

Damnation, how much does bleed affect one's health? You knew tags, they're important for eating items. But status effects? Never were those relevant to you until this very moment!

Your rearward eyes caught two more glowing skeletons pushing themselves out of the floor far, far behind the two of you, their arms a stark green glow against the yellows and reds of the outside just beyond as your entrypoint into the tunnel became that much more difficult to leave through.

Work with her orders and parameters, you reminded yourself. Many, many things made much more sense now having seen her Feat list — just knowing of Pressganged and Whisperless, especially. You have just as many questions, almost proportional to the boiling anger you had toward this "T" Player at this moment, but assumptions is all you have to work with for the time being. Mercifully, these specterbold-slimes seemed relatively weak even without her special attacks, so long as she hit first and dipped away before for the counter.

"Strike, then pull back," you quickly told her. "Yes, your priority list has those decored slimes at top, but you cannot hit anything if you're dead!" And, if she was dead, it was very likely your next host would be one of these disgusting slimes! "These things stagger easily, especially with that rising attack. Strike the others, knock them off balance, then go after the decored slime."

But Gods why does a helpless ooze take priority over these things!?

A duo of broiling roars announced the formation of those two slimes at the — oh. "Those two at the entry have merged into one!"

Does a creature merged from two count as its own Ally? Did Always Aware counter Pack Tactics? You'd rather not find out.

You checked the timer again: four minutes thirty seconds. These things were incredibly slow in their approach, another mercy. The huge one, even slower. All her abilities were off cooldown, but those two dots of bleeding were not non-negligible. They was sapping her health faster than you'd like. The slime that landed the strike neared again — your she-wolf finally reacted to her side in full, face scrunched in pain, sucking in air as a hand clutched her side.

Threads of red stretched from her wound to the tops of the skeleton's claws, the sickly green pulsing brighter and the slime rippling as a film of her own blood formed over its surface. Her bleed dots doubled.

"Kill that one," you ordered. "Spare nothing, kill it now!"

That burst of speed surged her fist into its head. The whole gelatinous mass rippled with the impact, the film of blood hardening and then shattering into decoagulating splatters but the ooze of the creature itself staying firmly attached to the core. The bloodied claw at the ooze's side raised and clenched — she flinched, stumbling as the red threads that streamed from her wound to the thing's claw thickened as her blood was pulled from the wound. The bloody film began to reform over the slime.

The other claw reared back.

Her health was fare, but the bleed dots had doubled again to a stack of eight — if that other claw landed, she would exsanguinate with such speed the Vampire Queen would give first read at Poetry Club to these damned slimes! If she wasn't flinching — you weren't, you realized.

A hop-scuttle that you had practiced oh-so-much back at the shop got you off her ears, then with a quick collapse and spring of your crown you were in the air, tumbling brim-over-crown. You didn't need to aim so much as fall just off to her right — you felt threads tear and the sharp pain of your inner mimic flesh be pierced for all but a fraction of a second before you popped instantly back onto her head. Raw adrenaline kept your vision clear from the de-location nausea, and you were intrigued to see her instinctive reaction to try to catch you overrode the stagger — she blindly struck struck the swinging claw with an open palm, hand grasping onto it.

She blinked, recovering from the flinch, eyes darting between you and the slimy claw it grappled with. Meanwhile, the kobold-slime's own head pivoted, clearly confused as to what it had struck, following the bloody threads that formed from its freshly bloodied claw, flitting up wards you. You became aware of a wetness that began to pool on your brim, and a dull, aching pain that began to burn in your core.

Unidentified Fashionable Object | Specterbold-Core Slimeblight (172) performing Identify using Occult! 31 - 10 (Short-Ranged Visual-Identify Penalty) vs 15! Success!
Mimic | Revealed (Identify)!

"Thimbles, thread, and needles; that — your left!"

She sidestepped, just in time as the headless slime's claws sliced through the air where she was, and into the bloodied slime's arm, severing the arm away as she held it at bay.

The gurgling chorus of angry ooze stopped for just a moment, and the four of you paused — you and your she-wolf in the realization of the sheer reality of friendly-fire, while the bloodied slime cast a slow, incredulous glare to its headless kin. The headless kin, in turn, full-pivoted its torso away. Then back slightly before it also leaned back to 'look' up to you.

Unidentified Fashionable Object | Specterbold-Core Slimeblight (053) performing Identify using Occult! 26 - 10 (Short-Range Visual-Identify Penalty) vs 15! Success!
Mimic | Revealed (Identify)!

Uh oh.

Unidentified Fashionable Object | Specterbold-Core Slimeblight (163) performing Identify (Visual) using Occult! 30 - 15 (Mid-Ranged Visual-Identify Penalty) vs 15! Success! (Aggressor Wins)
Mimic | Revealed (Identify)!

Unidentified Fashionable Object | Specterbold-Core Slimeblight (086) performing Identify using Occult! 29 - 10 (Short-Ranged Visual-Identify Penalty) vs 15! Success!
Mimic | Revealed (Identify)!

Unidentified Fashionable Object | Specterbold-Core Slimeblight (099) performing Identify using Occult! 20 - 15 (Mid-Range Visual-Identify Penalty) vs 15! Failure!

Unidentified Fashionable Object | Specterembossed-Core Slimeblight (005) performing Identify using Occult! 37 - 15 (Mid-Range Visual-Identify Penalty) vs 15! Success!
Mimic | Revealed (Identify)!

...oh good, the overly large one has an overly cumbersome name. You were happy ignoring its nameplate until now. Though, Unidentified Fashionable Object seemed to have updated all their nameplates with their individual numbers. An interesting side effect, one you'll dwell on when you were no longer a target!

"They are very much aware of me now," you hurriedly whispered to your host. "Act now, before they take action themselves. Act now! Act now!"

Your Aware Wolf complied, snapping out of the stupor first, flipping her grip on the ghostly skeleton arm to drive the sharp point clean through the protective slime barrier and into its owner's skull. The green mist coalesced into the gem above your heads. You caught this one, lashing out your tongue and pulling it into your inventory, just in time for her to rocket into the air with another phantasmal energy-fueled kick, knocking the headless (number 053) away.

Mimic | Revealed!

A surprised gurgle came from the slime encroaching from the right. Number 099, clearly. (...did this mean that there were over one hundred-seventy of these things at least!?)

"Three minutes, seven seconds," you relayed the timer to her. You had no doubt she instinctively knew it, you were saying it aloud for yourself. Your diversion, worthy of Player's stamp of approval as it was, bought far more time than you could had guessed. All it took was much more of a chunk of your health that you'd like, and a manageable dot of bleed.

Regardless, it just proved the Detective was right — no matter how well a counter those Players had set her up to be to these things, any more than one or two at a time would overwhelm her.

There were four little ones, one big one, and four still yet forming. By now, you were operating under the assumption that Always Aware let her know that they were, well, there, but only by some vague approximation. So long as she wasn't actively engaged, and you gave her a small warning, she reacted appropriately enough — as number 099 quickly found through a blind roundhouse kick that sent the whole of the ooze splattering to the ground. One foot stomped on the skull for the gem that she kicked up into her hand, the other dispatched the ooze it left behind. plunk~ went yet another gem into her inventory.

Still, that just made it clear she didn't stray a few steps from the waypoint spot. But, how to get her onto the offensive?

Killing the bloodied slime put her down to a pair of bleed dots again, but her health had gone from a touch above fair to rather unwell just from bleed alone — moreover, your bleed was nearly ticked over by now (putting your own health at a hair above 'more than a touch worrying'), and yet hers didn't seem to tick down at all. A side effect of the Bleeding Cure ability? How was this better than a disease?!

The burning nausea that was building up within you made you double-back on that question. Disease: Slime Rot, said the dot you now sported from your stunt, with no further explanation. Your entire crown felt like it was unspooling. Uncongealing, even. Nevermind your vision. At times, you could swear the walls were moving.

"Focus!" you hissed at yourself. You refused to die from the machinations of a Player. Nevermind one who fancied themselves as clever. The headless one, Number 053, neared again, having recongealed and pried itself off of the tunnel floor. "If that survived Rising Bandana — Banana? Bandana. Bandana Fist — names aren't important right now! Strike that one back into yesterday so we can focus on the weaker ones!"

You were ready for the sudden jolt of speed this time, the kickoff that delivered her open palm into the ribcage of 053 in two loping strides. The impact came with an explosion of ooze that it took you a moment to realize exactly what happened — the whole of the ribcage had erupted out the rear of the slime from the impact. It bounced and skittered and slid in an eerie silence along a great distance down the stone road of the tunnel, the green light within dimming and becoming... hollow, would be the best way to describe it. Like the ring of the sun during an eclipse, it was pitch black in the center yet it's edge glowed faintly.

The Decored Slime sloughed and evaporated into nothingness, but her eyes were on the ribcage, her body stiffening. Ears perked, tail wagged, fingers trembled.

"On your right — YOUR RIGHT! Oh —!"

Number 086 only had a singular claw on its singular arm, but that arm was much, much longer, something you realized mere fractions of a second before jettisoning yourself away from the overhead swing. She lurched after you much too late — the claw caught her on the forehead, ripping a gash down her cheek, over the jaw, all the way to the clavicle. The de-location back atop her head filled your mouth with a coppery taste of her blood.

You learned with immense dread that her sneak attack immunity was not immunity to critical hits; her health plummeted, two more bleed dots staking themselves on the previous two, plus a pair Slime Rot dots that transitioned into, thankfully, a single bleed dot themselves. Five in total — all which doubled to ten with a flex of the slime's claw. The bloody film gathered on the slime's body.

She responded with the phantasmal energies of Bandana Fist. 086 proved to be less resilient; a double fisted blow knocked its skull into the stone ceiling, shattering. Your Aware Wolf dropped to one knee, grabbing the Blight Gem from the air as it fell to the ground. It was passed into your inventory. Hers was at carry capacity. She panted heavily, falling onto her hands.

"Two minutes," you whispered. You mentally shook yourself. It was harder to ignore the effects of this Slime Rot. Every other second you think you see something moving just outside your focus, but nothing was there except the walls. The effect was multiplied tenfold by your panoramic vision all the way around your brim. You paired the mental shake with a physical one, and your eyes focused on the encroaching slimes behind her. All of them, now seven, were blocking the way the two of you had came in. One singular blessing you wished to count.

Bloody hell. Everything in this tunnel was Level 1! The only thing keeping your she-wolf standing was her unnaturally high health, and even that was failing. Just how many Players, plural, were needed to stand against this onslaught?

"Do you have anything to stem the bleeding? You have five dots of bleed on you, even removing one or two now will give us more time later." You knew she didn't, you just didn't want her to move back to the waypoint and into the claws of the embossed slime — kobold, bold, embossed — damn the developer gods for their wordplay, but thank them that this hulking creature was only now a proper threat! She didn't respond, her eyes instead focused on the ribcage. She huffed and rose to her feet, taking an unsteady step towards it.

The whole of the tunnel convulsed.

This time you were sure of it. Partly because your Aware Wolf spun around, eyes searching for something. Partly because you couldn't deny that the walls of the tunnel were truly undulating now. Uncountable, sickly-green fingers pressed out between every brick, growing into claws and hands as they encroached on your position. The ceiling began to drip slime.

Her head locked onto a point in the tunnel — your eyes followed to see the Blight Gem from the ghost-skull that had shattered against the wall at the very start of the fight. It was rose up from the ground, the hands sprouting from the wall grasping at it, growing longer and more wicked in shape.

One of the claws grasped the gem, and from there it was a swarm of limbs as the one claw pulled itself from the wall, and every limb around it curled around the claw and pulled themselves out of the wall which, in turn, the more limbs and claws latched on to pull themselves.

"Little wolf, little wolf, you should know better."

The voice came from the tunnel itself, the pavestones reverberating with such bass that you felt each individual strand of your fibers quivering.

"Little wolf, little wolf, ever snared by your fetter."

Your she-wolf took a step away. Then another.

The encroaching slimes stopped — a glance showed their nameplates had vanished as the fingers and claws of the floor pulled themselves up and into the specterbolds, attaching themselves to the skeletons in unnatural positions while the slime that surrounded them seeped into the floor, wicking away to the walls in a growing film that began to surround that end of the tunnel. The smaller specterbolds grew in size to that of the huge one; the huge specterbold itself surging to almost the vertical height of the tunnel and a good portion of its width.

Meanwhile, the claw that held the gem bobbed in the air, itself hanging from a criss-crossed web of interlocking limbs that formed empty eye sockets, fangs, a jaw, a neck. The whole of it lolled as its formation finished.

"Little wolf, little wolf, your doom — again cavaliering?"

The mouth opened, and a totem of skulls — real, physical skulls — slithered forth like a tongue. A dozen, two dozen, three dozen — each eye socket glowing a with a painfully bright, poisonous green glow — four dozen, five dozen.

The skull-tongue stopped, hovering mere meters away.

All of them, save perhaps a handful, were the same skull. There were slight differences, the muzzle shorter on a few and longer on others, cheeks higher or lower, ears slightly offset. But they were undeniably skulls of a very large wolf. By your count... by the gods, at least fifty-five.

"Little wolf, little wolf, with flesh tearing, blood smearing."

The skull on the tip surged upward the last few meters, pushed by a spinal column that erupted out of the second scull of the stack. An ethereal fire surged to cover its form, an unnerving dark, noxious green that gave a shape and form around the vertebra. From the point where it connected to the skull tongue thighs flared into existence, capped by an even more exaggerated hips as wide as your Aware Wolf was tall by your estimates. From there, it narrowed to a waist that was mere vertebra before tapering into an chest, over which three rows of phantasmal breasts pressed into shape, the bottommost as large as the waist and only increasing from there. Four pairs of arms sprouted and detached themselves to hover separately from the ethereal flames of the body with barely a swell of a shoulder for the topmost. The head took a lit and a cascade of prismatic, dark green ethereal hair billowed out and down to its rear, while the head itself took on the color pattern you were all to familiar with. The gem that summoned the creature bobbed from the head of the much more massive skull, like the lure of an angler fish.

"Little wolf, little wolf...."

This creature stretched its limbs and lowered down to your eye-level, putting its cold, fiery snout within arm's reach of your Aware Wolf's nose. Your gobsmacked viewing of the sculpted curves of its phantasmal posterior was ruined with a nameplate forming.

Level 1 | Lesser Tunnelblight Phantom
Undead, Legion, Dragon, Ethereal, Multicored, Blighttouch, Lich Blight Commandment, Explicit

"Run."