A World Called Memory

by M J Sweeney

  Pulling the creature up the face of the large rock, I made it to the clear space on top. Tying a bandana around my face—another loan from Drognad—I hoped to reduce the smell and, more importantly, reduce any toxic fumes I might breathe. Not sure how long I had, I poked about its neck with the knife and slowly prized open it plates. It was leaking the poisonous stuff by the second; I didn’t have too long. Disgusting. I had a rough idea what to look for—some kind of gland that secreted the poison and let off the vicious smell. I was definitely not familiar with animal biology and toxicology, so it could be coming from its head or throat or anywhere. Where anatomically would it be? Logically, I thought the throat, but this was a fantasy world. It could be in the big toe, for all I knew. Feeling a little rushed, I forced myself to calm down. Take a deep breath… cough, gag, recover… This was but the first one. Just dissect it; find the gland. Then devise the fastest way to do it next time.

  It was dirty and smelly and bloody work, but find it I did. It was actually in the belly—a rather overdeveloped kind of gallbladder, some kind of acidic bile that probably allowed the creature to chew through rock and dissolve hard matter to pass effortlessly. Fortunately, my leather gloves were up to the task. It seemed the poison didn’t have as much power unless it penetrated my skin. It did seem to stain the leather, but was otherwise fine. Dragging the beast off the side, I kicked it over the far edge of the hill.

  One down.

  Creeping back to the next hole, I waited again. Not much later, the same thing occurred. The creature erupted out of the dirt, pawing and hacking, and I speared it in the belly. This one didn’t die straight away, but neither did it try to attack me. I speared it again and it died. Once again, quietly as I could, I hooked it and pulled it over to the rock. This time, I dissected it quickly and plunged the extractor into its gland. I squirted the metal nose into the vial, extracted some more, then repeated a couple of times, sealing the copper lid. The glass vial wasn’t quite full, but near enough.

  Again I snuck back to the field. I speared the next beast, but this time another of the villainous creatures crept up on me. It managed to clamp down on my booted foot, this time the left one. Gods-dammit! I activated Breath of Life, and quickly drag-stepped backward before I was lynched. I noticed on my visible interface that I could now see its health bar below its icon, but its mana and stamina bar were both greyed out.

  It hung on like it had lock-jaw, allowing me to pull it past the fence line. Fortunately this one was slightly smaller, and hadn’t fully penetrated my boot—so I wasn’t actually being poisoned, despite the damage to my foot. The creature seemed to be glaring at me balefully with its piggy little green and yellow eyes as we went. Activating Heart of Oak, I felt the healing bliss of both spells take over.

  Then, steadily as I could, I placed the spear-tip at the junction of its neck plates and bore down gradually with all my weight. Its armour couldn’t stop gravity—multiplied by a lot. Despite the initial resistance, the armour split and it quickly died, this time bleeding all over my foot. Single-minded beastie. Quickly as I could, I jogged over to the first one, which was still spitting, and speared it in the belly. It too died. I could hear—even feel—the tremors of more beasties coming, so I quickly roped it, dragged it to the first, roped both of them together, and set off to the hill. Shortly after that, I managed to extract both sets of poison, filling the first two jars to the brim. This was hard work!

  Then I took a short break to take stock. My health was quite low, so I applied some of the health-balm, mostly just to see the effect. It added a small return in health, and nothing else. Seemed costly for just that. I checked the label written on the side of the jar. Oh, duh.

  / Health and Detox Balm /

  [Minor Restore Health

  Minor Cure Poison (level 1)

  and other creeping ailments

  4 Applications

  Zahn & Derge Merchant Goods]

  Not so useful in the middle of a fight, but if you were hit by a damage-over-time poison or slow acting debuff, it would be handy if you could cure it before the damage-over-time or debuff ran its course.

  Sighing with increased tiredness, I cast another Breath of Life, and my mana was completely depleted. I could do three heals altogether before being drained—the first two almost simultaneously. When the first one expired, I could cast another Breath of Life while Heart of Oak expired. I could use Heart of Oak three times per day, but it had a ten-minute cooldown per use, and was also a fair bit weaker than Breath of Life, at least for now. But it also used a lot less mana. That might change later; I would have to see. For today, I had two more of those remaining. I waited while my mana restored.

  The armoured rats definitely didn’t venture past their boundary, particularly where it was more rocky. Fortunately I was also getting a sense of listening or feeling for when they got closer. I figured if I dug a row of holes just on this side of the fence, where the soil was still good, and stood on the rocky ground, I could spear them to my heart’s content without too much retaliation.

  Next, I proceeded to do just that. The rest of the day and into the night was a chore, but I persisted and persisted. I would pepper and spear two or even three, drag them over, and extract, rinse, and repeat. Part-way through this process, something started to bother me—something about their anatomy, but I couldn’t pin it down. Toward the wee hours, I took longer and longer breaks as fewer and fewer of the beasts came, until the last set of pepper packages weren’t attracting any interest.

  The stinking pile of dead armoured-rats on the other side of the hill was prodigious. There were perhaps more than forty; I had lost count at one point. Towards the end, my interface had dinged—level 3—but I was too shagging tired to rejoice much.

  Once it seemed I had them all, I did the one thing I was really looking forward to: I took a long dip in the cold water and scrubbed the hell out of myself, my dirty clothes and armour hanging over the bridge, airing out.

  Soon finished, I sat on the edge of the rocky bank, completely naked, and warmed up in the morning sun, contemplating washing my clothes. I hated being dirty. I assigned my one free point to vitality, and sat in mild bliss as my body changed once more, seeming to fill up with increased energy… but I also noticed that my health and stamina bars, both still lower than usual due to fatigue, did not magically refill upon levelling. Oh, nasty, I thought, no magic cure on the level-up.

  It was nice to relax then. I rubbed my hands over my face wearily, and had a small shock when I realised I hadn’t shaved for the past few days. No facial hair. I had normal hair everywhere else, though it was quite sparse, all except my head hair. The elvish pride for long hair, men as much as women, now made a kind of sense.

  In some ways the lack of facial hair was really odd, and almost… unmanly. I’d had a beard a few times in my previous life but never really persisted with it, or particularly liked it—I’d abandoned being clean-shaven more out of laziness than anything else. That just prompted me to feel happy about it—never have the hassle of shaving again? Shit yeah, what a relief.

  I was tempted to lay down, but then the thoughts percolating in my back-brain hit me. Male. They all had male body parts. No females. And if the poisonous armadillos were all male, by any law known, the female had to be somewhere. Somewhere nearby. Shit. I stood up with a groan, wondering what to do. The sun was definitely coming up. Oh, the Gods hate me. I smiled in a grim kind of way.

  If there was a female (I had some little doubts, plus I hadn’t seen any sign, so maybe this was just a fantasy world that didn’t pay attention to such things), where would she be? Maybe I was just being paranoid. It was tempting to lay down and sleep—really tempting. But I felt this somewhere deep in my guts, I knew somehow I was right. There was a bit of adrenalin coming back, so I moved a bit more and swung my arms around a few times to liven up. I checked my clothes and armour and grimaced at the smell.

  Past caring, I started moving around naked, scouting cautiously, and holdi
ng my spear. What were the options? Something deep underground? That didn’t seem likely. A place that was warm and dry and protected from the sun, like a cave or burrow, would be the normal thing for a creature like that.

  My eyes settled on the large barn. Had to be.

  I went to fetch the rope, hook, belt, and pepper, and put them around my waist. I’m sure I looked quite the sight, naked under the equipment. I crept up to the barn door. It was slightly ajar, but wedged in place by packed earth. I dug at the front, clearing some of the dirt, and managed to slowly ease it open until I could squeeze my frame through.

  The smell in here wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be—sawdust and mould, mostly. I waited for my eyes to adjust. Initially, I saw nothing suspicious. Carefully, I crept toward the back of the barn, noticing a slight rise in the earthen floor. As the sun was now up and sunlight beginning to filter through the windows, I could finally see it. A huge mound of earth and debris at the back wall. At the top, it rose to a funnel-like shape, tapering to a hole, perhaps for air. A breathing hole. Perfect. I snuck back out.

  Back near the bridge, I quickly shucked on my still dirty socks, two tattered boots, my clothes, and filthy armour. I grabbed the knife and attached it to the belt, then took up the spear and quarter-shovel again. I also ate the second half of the health-cake. Cautiously, I eased back inside the barn.

  A hesitant prod with my spear proved that the mound was solid enough to walk on. I pushed it haft-first into the compacted earth, making sure it was steady and within reach. I leaned my quarter-shovel by the back wall. This had better work, I thought as I hefted the slight weight of the four pepper bombs in my hands.

  I still stepped as cautiously as possible. The leaves at my elbows were now twitching almost uncontrollably. Yes, I know, I thought, clearly this is a dangerous moment. At one point, I heard some grunting snuffles, almost like snoring. I froze for a moment, my heart in my mouth, then slowly continued inching closer. Once I could reach up to the spout, I dropped all four in at once and quickly scurried back to grab my spear. It didn’t take long.

  Suddenly, the side of the mound erupted and a great oversized armadillo thrust its way out. It was snuffling and sneezing, but also glaring at me. I activated Breath of Life, and before its piggy little eyes could decide what to do, I thrust the spear in its face. Critical hit! The eye burst, and you’d think that would have been the end of it, but no such luck. It squealed loudly, and I felt my whole head shake from the noise. Damn, that hurt. It charged and smashed into my lower arm and hip, bowling me over like a ten-pin. Shit.

  I landed on my ass, bruised front and back, but quickly scrambled up. It had crashed into the side wall, and was extricating itself from the broken timber.

  The roof creaked ominously, but I ignored that in favour of thrusting my spear up its ass. It squealed again, and again my head hurt. Was just the sound causing damage?

  I now noticed that its health, mana, and stamina bars were all visible on my interface under its icon. It had a longish health bar compared to the smaller males, but it was down by over half with my critical hit, which also had a “deep wounds” status effect that was causing it more damage. Clearly, killing a bunch of the creatures allowed me to identify more of their particulars.

  My spear didn’t seem to penetrate too far past its armour—it had few vulnerable spots on top. Suddenly, my foot felt like it was on fire. One of the smaller males had latched on. Fuck! I thought they were all dead. Gods-dammit!

  I activated Heart of Oak as well, and once again frog-hopped backwards while the thing wrecked my boot and foot. Poisoned again! I thrust the spear twice, and it let go. It wasn’t dead, but at least it wasn’t biting. I debated running outside, but decided that was a bad idea. I didn’t want the queen bitch burrowing again and ninja-ing me from below when I least expected it.

  This time, she sized me up, one good eye glaring at me balefully. The other one was bleeding and weeping pus. She was as big as a small horse, but a lot wider and heavier. I’d never be able to flip this one on her back. She also had a great wide mouth with rows of serrated teeth, large clawed feet, and large spines running down her back, starting about half a metre behind her head.

  Her hide seemed seriously plated, armoured thing that she was, and what looked to be poisonous saliva flowed down one side of her alligator jaw. Wicked looking, deadly, and entirely malevolent. If I didn’t get myself into gear, I was seriously fucked. The poison in my foot and leg was spreading, slowly ticking over; I could literally feel it climbing up through my veins, trying to reach my heart.

  The queen came forward in short little bursts while I stepped and circled and thrust out my spear cautiously. Her eyes or neck-joint were the best target. Her one piggy little eye glinted at me with malicious intelligence.

  Now I was even more wary of more males attacking me from below, and stepped and dodged carefully. My health was still dropping, so I did a short leap to one side and tried to spear her face. But she was too quick, and turned and bit at the blade. I thrust again, with the same result. Shit. Think. This time, I thrust deliberately slower. She snapped and latched on, so I tried to thrust the metal blade down her throat. Another male launched out at me, but I was dancing around too much and avoided the creature. My spear was caught sideways in her jaw while she thrust her snout sideways, trying to remove the spear from my grasp.

  Suddenly, I let go, and while she was distracted with possession, I leaped onto her back, one hand drawing my knife, and quickly spun around so I could straddle her. She bucked a moment, trying to throw me off, but I managed to get my legs in place and one hand latched onto her neck joint. I thrust my knife into the vulnerable spot again and again. She squealed, and my brain felt fit to burst. Must be some kind of energy attack, maybe sonic?

  Her feet began scrabbling at the earth, reverting to her burrowing instinct. I knew I didn’t have much time, so I reached a bit further, precariously letting go with my second hand. With both hands now on the knife, I plunged it into her remaining eye before her snout and head went under. She kept burrowing as I put pressure on the handle. My face was full of dirt and I felt my grip sliding off the handle, but she stopped. She was dead, but still twitching.

  Letting go, I jumped off and looked for my spear, but couldn’t find it. Shit! I quickly scrabbled for my belt pouch, got out the healing balm, and yanked off my wrecked boot. That hurt too, as the boot and ruined sock took some torn skin with it. After applying the balm, it slowly took effect—well, one round, and then the poison was being flushed. My health then plateaued at just under fifteen percent, so I activated Breath of Life again and reluctantly put the ripped sock and damaged boot back on.

  Unable to see the spear, I ran back and picked up my improvised shovel. I looked for the male I had already stabbed and found it dead, bled out. Eventually, the other one burrowed to the surface, and began mewling at the queen, trying to get it to move. It was kind of sad, but I hit the forlorn creature anyway. It didn’t put up much of a fight—only snapping at me half-heartedly until I severed its head with the shovel’s edge. Leaning on my staff-shovel, I caught my breath a moment.

  Then I thought, collect the poison! The queen might be more potent.

  With a limping run, I made it outside and grabbed some more jars and the extractor. I had filled twenty-seven of them so far, so there were only three jars left.

  Ignoring the two dead males, I began sawing at the queen’s underbelly until I found access to her poison gland. I filled all three jars, and even though there seemed to be plenty more poison, that was all I had room for. Despite my brief wash in the stream, I was now filthier than ever. My boots were pretty much non-existent, my armour caked with dirt and stink, and armadillo blood spattered all over. Heaving a sigh, I scratched at my dirty face a moment. What was the point of bathing in this world? Apparently, no amount of cleanliness could survive for longer than an hour or so.

  Hooking the rope around the queen, with some heaving and grunting for added effe
ct, I slowly managed to drag the great beast to the pile of smaller bodies. Then I did the same with the two males. They had left a bit of a poison stain inside the barn, but I hoped it wasn’t too much damage. Something would have to be done about the pile of rotting corpses—probably a good fire.

  Even though I really wanted to head back to town and heal, I thought I should take care of this first. I sighed again—I was dog-tired, I’d had no sleep the night before, and it had been all action today so far.

  Another thought occurred to me, and I trudged back to the monster queen. This time, I began sawing under her jaw, to expose her brain from underneath. Then I did the same with one of the males. After a little bit of comparison, I noticed a spongy, pale blue organ right in the middle. The queen had it; the males didn’t. Slowly, I cut around the organ and popped it out. As the jars were now all full, I decided I would use the last of my health-balm on my wounds, then clean the jar and put the organ in that. As a last piece of butchery, I hacked at one of the long claws of the queen, my skinning knife now almost blunt beyond repair, until it came free. For now, I carefully wrapped it in some spare cloth and pocketed it in my belt-pouch.

  After washing my pants and boots and shirt, and scrubbing them with river gravel, I did the same with my hair. I had my soap with me too, so was content when I could then clean away the hideous smell. Sweetness, bliss. After applying some balm and bandages around my foot, I used the last of the balm around my sore elbow and ribs where the queen had smashed me. Then I cleaned the jar and popped the little blue organ in it. It was time for a rest, so I lay down before finishing my other chores.