Greyex took a few minutes to sit down on a handy log and inspect the blisters on his feet. He hadn''t had blisters like this since he was little, but two days of walking over increasingly rough terrain had done a number on his callouses. His stomach clenched. Two days without anything more filling than a handful of live grubs had his insides twisting up in knots of hunger, but he couldn''t stop moving - even if the village had probably given him up for dead already and stopped looking for him, there were lots of things out here that wouldn''t hesitate to eat him if he got careless, and there wasn''t anything bigger than bugs he felt confident in his ability to catch and eat without backup.
Once he was done poking at the painful bumps, he slid off the log and set about laboriously pushing it over. It rocked, then rocked back, and only excessive caution saved him from it rocking back onto his fingers, but finally, after far too long, it ripped free of the moss that had grown up its side and rolled over out of the depression that had formed around it.
Greyex fell to his knees and began to search through the menagerie of bugs he''d uncovered. Without a bag to hold his finds in, he had no choice but to stuff the dirt-covered things into his mouth as they were, still wiggling, and do his best to chew them with his sharp teeth. Some of them, worms and grubs too small or wiggly to chew easily, he ended up swallowing whole and still moving. They were unpleasantly cold and mobile, and he wasn''t a fan of the slimy texture, either, but he was too hungry to be choosy.
Eventually, everything that was good to eat had either been eaten or dug down into the moist soil, and everything that was left was either unfamiliar or gave him the runs. Greyex picked up an unfamiliar creepy-crawly and thought about it... but no. He didn''t have the luxury of risking illness right now. He dropped it and rose to his feet, then continued his journey. The sun was hot, and he was thirsty, especially after eating dirt and bits of rotting log along with his bugs. Walking hurt, but he forced himself onward, glancing this way and that, watching for danger, but also for --
There!
He darted to the side and dropped to his knees next to a familiar vine. Thick leaves, thick, hairless stem, the color, the texture, the smell...
Greyex grinned a pointy grin and took a bite. It tasted terrible, plants always did, but the bitter juice inside was harmless. With effort, he sucked at the plant and, when what was in his mouth stopped yielding any "water", he moved on to another section to suck dry. He drank and he drank, until his belly fairly sloshed with it, and then he drank some more.
Then, he moved to an undamaged section of vine and bit off a length just barely short enough for him to carry, wrapped around himself, and tied the ends in knots to stop the water from escaping.
Once he was satisfied that he had water for later, Greyex looped his treasure about his torso and over his shoulders, and went back to walking. Sooner or later, he''d find a way to survive long-term. He just had to keep his eyes open.
Something crashed, too close for comfort, and he scrambled up a tree. Distantly, he noticed that some of his blisters popped on the rough bark, and his hands scraped and stung, but a bit of discomfort was irrelevant when it came to safety. Greyex''s eyes darted from tree to bush to shadow, searching for whatever had made that loud sound. Something moved, something big. He froze and waited.
The... thing was five times his height and big enough otherwise that it could have sat on the chief''s hut and probably squashed it flat. If it had wandered through the village, that might have been the end of the village. Or it would have been the end of the thing. If there was one thing his people were good at, it was attacking in force to kill something bigger than they were. Greyex stayed perfectly still, only his eyes moving to track the. The thing. He wondered what it tasted like, then carefully tied that thought up with string and dropped it down a hole.
It trampled a tree and smushed a bush and moved along. He watched it go, and decided to not go that way. He had no desire to catch up to that. Thing. Whatever it was. He waited until the crashing of its passing had faded into silence and the birds and bugs were making noise again.
Once he was double sure it was gone, Greyex slowly climbed down from his tree and carefully walked over to the footprints it had left behind. Feeling a little numb, he lay down in one of them. Neither his heels nor the top of his head touched the edges of the depression. He spread his arms out, and his fingertips didn''t reach, either. That thing could just step on him and there''d be nothing left but a bloody smear, like swatting a bug.
He got to his feet, considered the monster''s trail, and set off away from it, at an angle. If he walked a little faster than before, or didn''t check as carefully for potential sources of food, well, it must be that his belly was full (of vine squeezings) and he was feeling better after a brief rest (up a tree, terrified).
---
Taaku woke when the air around him cooled. He stretched, winced, stretched again. His head hurt. His scales itched. He swished his tail, back and forth, and slowly realized that he was alone.
Then he remembered why he was alone.
He crawled out of the mass of tree roots he''d crammed himself into when the sun started to come up, staggered, and continued away from the mountain he''d called home his entire life. Downhill. He needed to go downhill. He focused on that thought - ''downhill''. Every time he slipped, downhill. When he tripped and fell, downhill.
Until he got to the bottom, and everything was suddenly uphill.
Taaku lay down for a bit, and thought. He was so thirsty, and water went down. He came to a conclusion. He got up, then skirted around the hill in front of him. He picked his way through tangled plants and over piles of stones, smelling for dampness and watching for animals small or weak enough for him to catch on his own.
He wandered for the whole night, and didn''t find so much as a trickle. By the time the sun came up and he had to find a place to sleep the day away, he could barely think, and wasn''t sure if he was going up a hill or down one. Taaku had the terrible feeling that, without a miracle, he wasn''t going to last another night. Maybe it would rain.
He crawled under one of the large trees, into a tiny cave of roots, and closed his eyes. Maybe he''d get to open them again.
Maybe the afterlife wouldn''t be lonely.
---
Greyex trudged up yet another hill. Spending the night up a tree, in case something came along while he was sleeping with a taste for flesh, hadn''t done his mood any favors. Finding another "drinkable" vine had, though, and he''d been able to make a (barely) usable bag out of the chewed up remains of the last one. He packed the holes in it with moss as he walked, then set about dropping edible bugs into it when and as he found them.
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"If I eat when I stop to rest, instead of stopping to eat when I find food, I can go farther," he reasoned out loud to himself. "And if I talk to myself," he continued, "I can pretend I''m not alone, and stay sane longer."
He stopped to flip over a likely looking rock and scoop up a few juicy looking worms and a fat grub, then continued on his way. His stomach cramped a bit - days of drinking plant juice and hardly eating anything was taking its toll on him, but he could keep going. The crude bag bumped against his side with every step, reminding him that where there was stuff, he could make tools, and where he could make tools, he could (hopefully) survive.
The bag was half full of squirming, writhing "food", and the water vine was still mostly intact, when the sun got low and Greyex started looking around for a place to sleep. He was debating the usability of some of the hollows he''d seen underneath the larger trees when he saw the foot. It was grey, scaled, and had wicked looking talons attached to the toes, all three of them.
He picked up a nearby stick and gave it a poke. It twitched a couple of times and slowly withdrew into the hollow under the tree. When nothing came out and tried to eat him, Greyex crouched down and took a closer look. There was something - someone? - under there. Who (or what) ever it was had two feet, two legs, one long slinky tail, and a leather loincloth held up with a crudely braided belt. He reached in with the stick and gave the foot another poke. The person? under the tree hissed softly.
"You don''t sound so good," Greyex said conversationally.
His answer was an unintelligible hiss, and he gave the foot another poke. The other foot twitched, and the poked foot flinched.
"I suppose you''d prefer if I tried to help you," Greyex went on, thinking out loud as much as he was talking to the prone figure under the tree. "Not that I know what you are, but with claws like that, you''re probably pretty mean when you''re feeling well." He grinned what he''d been told was a nasty little grin and gave the foot a jab with the stick. The tail flopped over weakly.
Greyex crawled partway into the root cave under the tree, firmly gripped the stranger''s ankles, and backed out on his knees, dragging his bag of "food" and water vine in the dust, mystery creature in tow. In the dying light of the sun, he got a better look at the thing. The scales were everywhere, and it had no hair. Its hands, and it did have hands, had four fingers, counting the thumb, all of which were tipped with the same wicked talons as its toes. The grayish scaled skin sagged and drooped, and near the fanged mouth it had begun to crack. He gave its cheek an experimental pinch and felt scales crackle and crack between his fingers. The indentations stayed where they were, pale and thin.
Whatever this was, it was nearly dead from thirst.
Greyex ran his fingertips over the water vine wrapped around his chest and shoulders.
"It''s your lucky day, friend," he said softly through a pointy grin. "If this doesn''t kill you, you get to live."
---
Taaku woke to a miracle. There was water in his mouth. Strange, bitter water with bits of stringy stuff in it, but water. He drank greedily and whined like a needy hatchling when it stopped, but then it came back, gushing and dripping, strange and stringy and exactly what he needed.
After a wonderful eternity of water, water in his mouth, water running down his cheeks, cool and wet and oh thank everything he wasn''t going to die, he felt strong enough to open his eyes. He stared, for a long moment, into a large pair of hairy nostrils, and closed them again.
"Ah," he said to himself, "this is a dream. I''m still dying."
"Not a dream," a strangely mushy voice said from above and to the side. "Just a very, very strange day."
"There is a goblin lap under my head," Taaku said firmly. "The goblin was feeding me plant water. That is not real."
"Nah, it''s real," the goblin mushed with its weird squishy mouth. "But, funny thing is, you know what I am, friend, but I don''t know what you are."
Taaku was a bit taken aback. Goblins and kobolds had been fighting for generations. For centuries. For a goblin to not know what he was, to not kill him where he lay, was unheard of.
"I''m a kobold," he said before he could think better of it.
"Hm." The goblin seemed lost in thought. While it considered that information, it bit a new hole in the plant and brought it to Taaku''s mouth, squeezing and releasing more of the strange water, which he eagerly drank down, even knowing where it came from. He was too thirsty to care. "Granny always said," the goblin said slowly, "that kobolds were terrible monsters that hunted in packs and ate goblins."
Taaku was too busy drinking to reply. Distantly, he recalled that goblins didn''t taste very good.
"The thing is, though," the goblin continued, "that in my experience, goblins are also terrible monsters that hunt in packs and eat goblins." It grinned down at Taaku, revealing a mouth full of teeth that made up for their lack of sharpness with sheer numbers. "And I don''t see your pack anywhere, so you and I, we can be friends, I think."
Taaku choked on his plant water. The goblin waited. Taaku coughed and sputtered. The goblin waited. Taaku gasped for air. The goblin waited.
"I could eat you," Taaku pointed out.
"Then who would help you find water?" the goblin asked, unconcerned.
"You just taught me there''s water in plants," Taaku argued.
The goblin grinned. "Try it," it dared him. "Most plants are more full of poison than water."
"Why do you even want me?" Taaku finally asked, all of his confusion spilling out in a torrent of frustration. "Your kind eat everything in front of you, you don''t rescue people!"
The goblin had the audacity to laugh in its weird, squishy voice.
"Most of us don''t," it agreed. "Of course, most of us don''t know that there''s water in plants, or that you can make a bag out of nearly anything if you''re patient enough." It held up a bag that was. Made of plant. It was green and brown and half dry and a bit fuzzy.
"What''s in the bag," Taaku was too confused to even ask a question properly. He wasn''t even sure he wanted to know what was in the bag.
"Food," the goblin answered. "Want some?" It shook the bag a little for emphasis. It seemed about half full.
"Yes!" This was humiliating. Asking a goblin for food, being rescued by a horrible stupid monster, loosing all sense of honor or community... maybe this was some sort of divine punishment for refusing to do his duty.
The goblin reached into the weird plant bag and pulled out. Ugh.
"Bugs aren''t food!" Taaku protested.
The goblin put the wiggly bug in its mouth and worked its jaw, then swallowed.
"You sure about that?" it asked.
Taaku was sure, but. Maybe. Maybe eating bugs was part of his punishment for not dying like he was supposed to. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth and felt like a hatchling asking to be fed. Something small and wiggly dropped in and he swallowed it. It hadn''t tasted like much, but it felt good to have something in his stomach again.
"Well?" the goblin asked. Maybe it sounded amused or smug. He couldn''t tell. It was all mushy.
"It. I guess it was food." Taaku curled his tail around his thighs. It was childish, but so was being fed by someone else. The goblin reached back into the bag and tossed another bug into its mouth, then offered Taaku the bag.
Taaku, much to his increased shame, accidentally squished three of the squirmy things and didn''t get anything more than yuck on his claws. He licked them off anyway and curled his tail tighter. The goblin pulled out a bug and offered it, and he opened his mouth to be fed. Together, they finished what was in the bag, and then the rest of the chunky bitter water in the plant.
Taaku tried, and failed, to get to his feet after the meal. He fell back to the ground and lay there on his back, hissing in frustration.
"Sun''s down," the goblin said. "Time to sleep."
"Sun''s down," Taaku countered, "time to get up."
"...I was walking all day. You can''t even stand up." It stared toward him, eyes unfocused, pupils huge - oh. Oh.
"You can''t see at night, can you?" Taaku asked slowly.
"You can?" the goblin asked in return. Then, "of course you can. Nothing''s ever easy."
With some effort, Taaku crawled closer to the weirdly soft thing and leaned against it. He''d killed goblins; he''d eaten goblins; he''d never noticed how soft and warm they were.
"We can sleep until morning," he allowed, "but you''re leading the way. The sun hurts my eyes."
"You can lead if we walk in the dark," the goblin slurred softly. "I can''t see anything in this."
Then there was silence, but it was a silence punctuated by soft snoring and someone else''s heartbeat. Taaku put his head on the goblin''s chest and dozed, eyes half open.
He still missed home.
Chapter 09: A New Player
I lost track of time, fiddling with different impurities, checking the projected results, and then inspecting my minions'' needs to see if they matched. I wanted to save mana by giving plants deeper in my dungeon light, so they could photosynthesize. I couldn''t have it on all the time, though, because I had bats and bugs and things that probably wanted some darkness to sleep in.
After way too much time spent on a single problem, I realized that I could use more than one impurity on a single template, and a whole new dimension of possibilities opened up. I synchronized the light decoration to the light coming in through the dungeon entrance, then tweaked it a bit until it mimicked the actual light levels outside, which were surprisingly easy to figure out with a little memory searching. I spent the impurities to save the template, then to create the decoration in my core room.
My first thought was ''beautiful''. The bumblebee figurines sparkled and shone in the artificial sunlight, and my core on its pedestal almost seemed to glow with the way the light refracted inside it. I spent a long couple of hours admiring myself as the light source slid along the ceiling, its angle shifting to match the location of the sun in the sky outside, then mentally shook myself out of it. I had other things to do, like check on the tunnel to my second room!
It was a bit deeper. Maybe a couple of feet. This was going to take a while.
I opened the dungeon editor and played with the currently nonexistent second room. I tweaked the pedestal that was going to be in the center so that it wouldn''t look like the one I was on now, I added a depression around it so I could have a moat, things like that. Then I took another look at the automated programs I''d made before... they were already outdated, as compared to my impurity intake and use needs. It would take a while to update, especially by myself, but I didn''t have biological needs to get in the way anymore. Hobbyist programmer heaven.
I turned off all of the current automated impurity spending and wrote an entirely new script, one that would spend any full impurities I collected past five of a kind on core expansion (so I could hold more impurities, obviously). I also turned off automated creation of quartz rings, for a couple of reasons - one, my pedestal was full; two, I might want the quartz for other things. And three, the granite spaces were bothering me. There was only one mica ring, toward the bottom, and it still left a gap.
I reabsorbed the solid mica ring, then filled the remaining spaces with more quartz, covering up the rest of the granite and leaving my pedestal properly shiny. Then I opened the dungeon editor again and ensured that my next pedestal would be larger and more impressive than my current one - I added a step under it so it would be raised up a bit, made it taller, and put some claw shaped details around the top to sort of cradle the air around where my core would go. Then I turned my attention back to the first room, my current core room.
It wasn''t going to be a core room once my new room was done, and it was going to need to look completely different.
I spent the rest of the night and, judging by the shift in lighting from nearly nonexistent to red to orange to bright, a good piece of the next day queuing changes to take effect only after my core moved to its new home atop a new, richly decorated pedestal. It took more time than I expected to build in moving the home for my bats and shifting (rather, destroying and recreating) the falling snow decoration (and a home for my icy bumblebees), but I managed it by the time the sun went down.
I thought about rewarding myself for a job well done by reliving some of my old memories, but then it occurred to me that the first room needed more work.
...
......
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.............
I didn''t surface again until past sunrise the next day. I made the right choice when I designed the lighting for my dungeon. My core room was bathed in the crisp light of day, and the gentle change from the dark of night through twilight hadn''t disturbed my focus at all. A gentle mist beaded on the walls in my entryway and dampened the petals of my edelweiss flowers, which were free of bumblebees for a change - the swarm seemed to not like getting their wings wet, and had taken to waiting for the "rain" that had fallen during the night to stop before they got breakfast. My mountain bats hadn''t settled down yet - they were still flitting about the hall, chasing one another and squeaking. Now that there were three of them, they weren''t lonely anymore, which was a bit of a relief.
A low hum from very near the entrance to my core room caught my attention. The icy bumblebees had woken up and were
starting their day. When droplets of mist landed on their wings, they froze immediately into tiny flecks of ice and the massive insects shook them off. The pine needle mat they were flying out of seemed different than I expected - I took a closer look at it. There was a bulge under the frost-covered floor cover that hadn''t been there before. As I watched, it raised up just a tiny bit higher. With a twist of will, I opened an information menu about it.
Icy Bumblebee Nest
I supposed that made a bit of sense. Only, not really. I''d been thinking of my icy bumblebees as just like regular bumblebees, but bigger and covered in frost, and my ordinary bumblebees didn''t make an elaborate nest. This mutation business was stranger than it looked at first glance. How exciting. What other changes would I see, when I mutated more minions?
I checked on my new, under construction, core room. It was almost finished. Finally. There were so many things I wanted to try once I had more space.
I watched, giddy with anticipation, as granite melted away to reveal more and more space. Finally, after what seemed like hours (but was more like thirty minutes) of watching, I got the popup I''d written.
Move Core? Y/N
YES~!
The world went dark. I couldn''t feel my dungeon! I could barely feel a sense of movement, a hazy nausea that clashed with my understanding of myself as an inorganic organism with no digestive system, and the exhaustion that could only have come from my mana being spent on something by the fistful. My mind spun, I felt heavy and light in turns; it wasn''t painful, exactly, but it seemed like it should be. Then everything popped back into place, and my core was sitting pretty on the shiny new pedestal I''d designed. My new core room was dark, the only source of light was the hall leading to my old core room. I got to work fixing that.
...
......
Once I had the lighting in my new core room set up to my liking, I took a look around. The tunnel to the third (and final) room that I''d pre-designed hadn''t started yet. It looked like automated changes took effect from the front of the dungeon first and worked their way back. That was fine, I was in no hurry; I hadn''t even had anything other than animals come in yet, and any visitors I might find myself entertaining would have to come in through the entrance.
My bats dropped a bit when they passed through the last of the falling snow between the entryway and the first room, but the decoration was already fading out, and they were soon in their new roost, squeaking softly and fluffing their wings. Falling snow appeared at the end of the hall leading to my new core room, just like I''d set up in planning. Depressions were forming in the floor where I''d decided to put flower beds, and it occurred to me that these flowers, too, would need to be watered and fertilized.
I opened the dungeon editor and resolved to put my (weak, rusty) engineering skills to good use. It couldn''t be that hard to build an automated irrigation system in a magic cave that was, for all intents and purposes, my own body where I had total control of everything.
---
Viscount Wilder rubbed the pad of his thumb over a carefully written letter that had not been addressed to him. It seemed Tower Master Twenty-Seven was a bit too ambitious for a man of his station.
"Tenson," he said, neither speaking softly nor raising his voice.
The Viscount did not jump or start in any way when his personal servant was, suddenly, behind him, as though he had been there all along.
"Retrieve the files on adventuring teams. Which ones are available, which ones are competent, and which ones are... well." He smiled pleasantly.
"At once, master."
Tenson was gone as completely and quickly as he''d arrived.
Chapter 10: The First Day Together
Greyex woke slowly and stretched languidly. He was surprisingly comfortable, and a tension that had been building ever since he''d had to run was relaxed, if not completely gone. He blinked a few times in the morning light, rolled over, and realized he''d spent the night cuddling with the... the thing... the kobold! He was cuddling with the kobold he''d found.
He patted it a few times and then gave its skin an exploratory pinch. The kobold hissed softly, but didn''t move.
"What was that for?" It''s voice crackled sharply on its ts and hissed its esses. "What wasss that for?"
"I was checking how much more water you need. It''s a lot, by the way." Greyex patted the scaly hide under his hand in what he hoped was a soothing way.
The kobold shifted a bit and hissed something indistinct. It was probably a question about water.
"We drank it all," he said plainly. "We''ll have to go find more today."
The kobold tried valiantly to get to its feet. It even managed it for, oh, five seconds before it started to list to the side and Greyex had to catch the poor thing. He slung its arm over his shoulders and wrapped his own about its upper back to support it, and they wobbled off together at a painfully slow rate. If something came and tried to eat them, he was going to have to leave his new companion behind.
Rather than pursue that thought further, Greyex turned his attention to keeping them going away from the goblin village, the thing he''d seen, and the direction that had his companion tensing up if the turned toward it. When that got too easy to occupy his mind, he started to glance around for food, potential tools, water vines, or places that they could duck into to hide if something dangerous turned up.
Before long, that didn''t take much effort, either, so he turned to conversation, rather than think about all the horrible ways he could still die out here.
"So," he said slowly, "what are you doing all alone, if kobolds are supposed to hunt in packs."
"Can''t go back," it hissed. "Ran away. Going back - I would die."
"Same, same," Greyex nodded his head and guided them around a hole in the ground. "We go back the way I came, we''re gonna die; we go back the way you came, we''re gonna die. Got it."
They were silent for a while, then, because the ground had gone rocky and loose. Together, they struggled down the hill, and together, they struggled up the next one, in the only direction that didn''t lead to a known danger, slipping and tripping and rising again. Greyex''s knees were bloody by the time they reached the top, and his companion had only escaped the same condition by having a tougher skin.
At the top of the terrible mess of sharp rocks, there sat a boulder and a familiar looking plant. He leaned the kobold against the boulder and inspected the plant. The leaves, dark green and rubbery and shaped just right; the stems, correct; the smell, sweet and bitter, familiar. He pulled off a leaf and thoughtfully bit into it - it burst between his teeth, unpleasantly squishy like bad meat, and the bitter, filmy water inside flowed over his tongue while the stringy fibers within stuck to his teeth.
Yes, this was the water vine. He bit off a length and dragged it to his companion.
---
Taaku must have fallen asleep, because he woke up to water in his mouth and a sour smell in his nose. He drank the water. It was thick, and a bit stringy and chunky, like old blood, but water was water.
He opened his eyes. It was the goblin again, with what was probably the same plant. Plant water was... it wasn''t as good as normal water, but water was water.
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Taaku took the vine and bit into it. It was weirdly tough, both like and unlike meat, and the smell was sour and off-putting. The plant water rushed out as he bit again and again, burning its way down his throat unpleasantly. It was a bit less wonderful than it had been the first time, but it was still so, so good. It was all gone before he knew it, and another chunk of water plant was held out.
He took it wordlessly and started biting again, while the goblin took the finished vine and did, uh, something to it that Taaku couldn''t even begin to guess at. Goblin magic, maybe?
"You got a name?" it asked. "I can keep calling you ''kobold'', but that seems rude."
"You''re not going to use your weird goblin magic to put a spell on me if I tell it to you, are you?"
The goblin stared at him with its weird brown eyes with the off-putting round pupils.
"I don''t know any magic," it lied.
Taaku did his best to reason through his options. He owed the goblin his life. That might be enough for it to put a spell on him anyway, and it might decide to put a curse on him if he refused it. On the other hand, it could put a stronger curse on him if he gave it his name.
...maybe it only knew plant magic.
"Taaku," he finally said.
"I''m Greyex," the goblin said. It went back to fiddling with plant bits.
Taaku bit more water plant and drank more plant water. Greyex twisted the thoroughly bitten vines around one another in a complicated pattern that Taaku couldn''t hope to understand. It seemed to be building the plants up and into something; a shape was slowly emerging. His eyelids grew heavy, and Taaku distantly felt his half finished water plant fall from his talons. He was asleep before it had finished sliding to the ground.
---
Ssss-thump.
Greyex glanced to the side. The kobold - Taaku - had fallen asleep and dropped its water vine. He glanced to the other side. The vine he''d harvested was growing lush and thick, sprawled out over the ground in a mass of leaves and stems, sluggishly oozing its water from the torn parts where he''d taken bits of it.
"We can rest here," he decided out loud. "You sleep. I can sleep when I''m done."
It took most of the rest of the day to finish the basket he''d started, and a big part of that was fetching more grass to weave in across the vines to shore it up. He put some roots in, too, that came up with the grass, and it looked solid enough, but Greyex wouldn''t know how actually good this basket was until it dried out. He put it down next to the - Taaku; he put it down next to Taaku anyway, then moved on to his next task before he could sleep.
He rehydrated. Pulled more water vine, made a nasty face at it, and drank more of the sour, bitter, chunky vine water. Foul, but harmless. Then he gathered up some stones and shoved them into a rough semicircle around where Taaku was asleep, edges touching the boulder they''d rested in the shade of, and set about making some "shelter".
He mostly gathered up grass and piled it up, sometimes over, sometimes under, but mostly on the stone circle he''d made. He also used some of the shorter chunks of gnawed on vine to loop things together and hold them in place. Over the course of the, to stretch the term, construction, he found enough bugs to fill up not only his bag but also the basket he''d made.
It took the rest of the day, and the finished product was still better than most goblin dwellings, which was to say that it would need a stiff wind to knock it over. Greyex put a few finishing touches on the temporary house - a few handfuls of moss there, a bit of urine here - and it was ready. He tucked the bag and basket away inside, bugs and all, and cut a few more lengths of vine with his teeth in case they got thirsty.
He climbed into the little shelter through a hole he''d left for that purpose, pulled the vines in after himself, and then patched the hole shut with more grass he''d left nearby for just that purpose. The result was a shaded, slightly stuffy but overall cozy, little space. Greyex lay down and put his head on Taaku, then fell asleep to the sound of someone else''s heartbeat in his ear.
----
Meanwhile, back at the dungeon...
I''d been working on this stupid irrigation problem for an entire day. When I copied the watering system from the entrance, it made the ceiling wet and slippery, and the bats suffered for it, like the beginnings of a migraine. When I set the "rain" to materialize lower down, it clumped up and dropped a thick sheet of water on the entire room, scattering maggots and crushing flower petals. That didn''t feel very good, either.
I attached the water source to the wall, and it flowed like a fountain... and flooded the floor before it made its way to the flower beds. With everything soaked, I needed to take a break before I lost it and did something I''d regret.
The worst part was that they all worked well in simulation. I hadn''t been so frustrated since I died. It was going to feel so good when I finally figured it out.