The true number of our dead in fact numbered to around six, I’d carved the names for Yinea and Mills, since I had known them fairly well, and they had died closest to me. We sat spread around the dormitories. They were silent in prayer, I sat quietly aside.

I wasn’t religious, never had been to my knowledge. But the prayer was what they would have wanted, and it would be wrong of me to deny them that. At the same time, it struck me as whimsical to ask a god I didn’t believe in to provide deliverance, and to do so seemed insincere.

I left once they finished, having gone to bed after. I brought another block of wood with me, to my spot overlooking the fields. I shut my eyes, letting Sense guide my hands as I tried to clear my mind, latching to whatever image came to it.

I whittled away at the wood, my fingers tightening around the block as my thoughts drifted. Weeping wounds and the smell of charred flesh, I wasn’t that inured after all. A warm trickle of fluid jolted me from my carving, and I dropped it, turning my eyes to my hand. I’d cut myself with the carving knife, a tingling feeling spreading lengthwise along the wound itself.

Two inches, I’d cut myself a two-inch wound. I pulled a strip of cloth, binding it to keep it from bleeding more. The blood itself wicked off into the armour, before draining into the ground. As I’d said before, the armour tended to keep itself, and by extension me, clean. Useful that.

It hadn’t however protected the carving, the bloodstains on it would seep too far in, I’d perhaps need to sand off those layers. As I moved my hand to pick up the carving I stopped just short of it. What the heck was I thinking about?

It was a rendition of human being, stylized flames forming a base for it as someone burned within. I’d cut myself as I scraped out the area between their knees and the flame, my blood splattered onto the flames in drops, spreading outwards from the grooves in the wood itself. I stared at it for a moment, and drew my carving knife to it once more, unfinished work irked me.

The flames I finished easily enough, their stylized designs made it a simple thing to complete. The person I left rough, I didn’t even try to get the details right. Conscious now of what I was making I couldn’t bring myself to fill in the flaky charred skin, the waxy surface, the weeping wounds, the acrid stench. I put it aside, leaning back onto the ground and breathing out a deep sigh.

At that moment I’d been lost in combat, pushing forward as I cut with measured, yet hurried strokes. The gnolls fell around me, as I drove like a wedge into their midst. A human scream took my concentration, and a blade deflected off my arm as I turned to the group. Mills had been cut by a gnoll, his spear fallen to the side.

I shifted two steps, moving to Mills, and slid my blade deep sideways into the gnoll’s throat, pushing it aside with my left arm. Mills clutched at me, his stomach bleeding from a tear from the gnoll’s blade. His death throes drew me away for a moment, but I snapped myself out, pushing back into the gnolls.

My breath shuddered as I remembered the way he had looked at me, eyes glassy and vacant. I thought I would be apathetic by now, having dealt in and seen so much death. Perhaps it was the bond we shared, the guilt I’d felt as I turned away. Yinea took several arrows to the stomach, she died shortly after the battle, in the company of myself, Caio, Lanth and the farm owner. Her wounds killing her as I got the potion. Her name was on both trees, where we agreed she belonged.

Her sling was still with me, I’d put it into storage later, when I returned to the dormitories tonight. I fiddled with the carving, careful not to brush my fingers against the rough surface. Splinters would not make for an enjoyable night, such as it was.

[You should get some sleep soon, it’s been a long day.] Page urged.

I nodded to myself, perhaps I should. Let the dawn take these thoughts away. I brought the carving with me, I’d burn it tomorrow.

The next day I read on slimes, and as it turns out I should have read it at the start. Slimes were a common beast that often adapted and expanded into various environments with ease. They were biologically immortal, and the only hard limit on their size were when they got too large to move easily or hide from greater predators. They reproduced by pinching off buds, the larger the slime, the more buds created over time.

‘As a soldier, you will be often be tasked to the extermination of large slimes that may have made their nests close to farmland and the city. These tend to occur once a month or two.’

It seemed the military took a rather active role in this. And now they’re gone. I thought to myself. Someone has to hunt these things down? I shook my head. So then it fell to the people to make sure there was a home for the military to fight for. At least according to them it would be a fairly easy task, near the outer forested areas most slimes would not reach excessive sizes, their predation easier.

I scanned the rest of the discourse quickly, checking the common methods of finding said slimes as well. It seemed they relied partly on their “children”, providing protection from stronger threats in exchange for some meals. That meant they would lure predators inwards, towards the large slime, if threatened within the boundary. So it required some following of behavioural cues. They feared flame, like most slimes. The book recommended a torch during the hunt, but the use of poison to kill it, burning down the forest was hardly an option, and that gel was fairly long burning.

I skipped the section on what magic might be useful on it, knowing no spells and having no artefacts of power. Getting stung by that slime would likely be the last thing I ever experienced, time to get prepared then.

I skimmed the other sections on other beasts, noting that it was going to be a very busy week doing what the army had normally done. I hesitated as I read the entries on faeries and wisps, illusions and magic were their forte, they would be hard to face. Was everything in this world out to kill people?

Poison was not very difficult to find in the forest, finding something with the proper potency however, was. Lapi sniffed, darting into the brush, I followed her, and picked some of the plant parts that she nudged with her nose. There was no denying that she could understand speech, which I found remarkable. By now I’d collected multiple samples of analogues to nightshade, hemlock and snakeroot.

A whistling wind came from above, and Lapi slammed into me, pushing me down as something cut the air above me. I rolled to my feet, sealing my helm as I looked up. It was a spider, hugging onto one of the old, large trees. It chittered, the left front leg recovering from the strike it had just delivered.

I rolled quickly as a jet of silk shot itself in my direction, Lapi moved as well, growling at the creature, but unable to strike at it. The spider leapt at me, landing on the ground with a thump as I rolled aside. A strike from its front legs knocked the breath from my body, and I pushed myself up, my sword now fully drawn. It backed slightly and clambered onto a tree, and my sword struck against its hard exoskeleton, leaving a small nick before it left my range.

It chittered a little more performing a threat display with its front legs raised, I drew the sling with my left hand, stepping back as I placed a stone into it. The spider watched my movements, but made none of its own. I aimed for its abdomen, if it was anything like a normal spider, a strong blunt strike to that point ran the risk of rupturing it. Despite this, I had no intention of tangling with it.

I started to back away, watching the spider as it stared at me, it seemed to calm as I moved away, luckily enough for me. Either it didn’t see me as prey, or it had recently fed and didn’t intend to expend its energy. I turned away once it was out of my sight. Lapi stayed tense as we continued.

I dodged most of the slimes, killing a few when they decided to pursue me. When I returned I drew out the herbs for inspection. Elli helped me with that, identifying some of the more dangerous variants. She also concocted something of them, apparently a simple alchemical reaction, handing me a waterskin of material afterwards. It seemed to shine dimly when viewed.

The aim was simple, get it into the slime, which would be accomplished easily enough, just needed to stick it inside. I went to bed, after preparing a few torches, a spear and my armour.

I convinced Lapi to stay away for once in her time here, dire wolves didn’t hunt slimes, the stingers stinging their tongues didn’t make for an enjoyable fight. The book remarked that large felines, dragons, goblins and kobolds fared better. The latter two used tools, the former two used claws, and dragons appeared immune to the stingers anyway.

I killed the first slime I came across, spreading some of the gel onto a few more sticks, If I could avoid using the torches we had, I would. I followed the direction the bulk of the slimes came through the forest, and began hacking at them. I prevented myself from striking at their cores, and after a while, they fled. I chased them cautiously, they didn’t have minds, but random chance could engineer an ambush just as well, though not as often.

More slimes appeared, I cut at them as well, this time killing all but the one that continued to flee. I didn’t need them nipping at my heels, I’d likely need my full attention for the large slime. I ventured ever deeper into the forest, the light began to filter out, until there was not a clean beam of light in sight. The air became steadily more humid, the slime slowly became harder and harder to make out, growls occasionally sounded from the other areas of the forest, but nothing made itself known to me. The slime had claimed some dominion of the forest it seemed.

I lit a torch, dispelling the darkness, and soon approached a section of vegetation, flattened and shoved aside as though by a great torrent. A gush of fluid sounded to my left, and I quickly dived to the ground. Gel slammed into a tree, parting upon it as the tree groaned and shuddered. The gel flowed back, sliding across the ground smoothly, and a slime moved into view.

It was almost my height, if not taller, comprised of laurel green slime. Its control centre hardly noticeable in the soft light, trickling through the leaves. I pulled the waterskin, opening it to check its contents. Satisfied I hadn’t grabbed the wrong container, I prepared myself to administer it. I dropped the torch, snuffing it with my boot.

Another rush of gel came, clipping my shoulder and nearly wrenching my right arm from its socket. I charged forth, using the spear I brought to pierce it, I used to tip to draw an opening, slipping the open waterskin into its body. A burst of gel pushed me away, the glowing green fluid spreading across it as ripples formed across its surface. Then I was rudely reminded that dying and dead were two very different things.