Shaker

"Adventurer who has gone overboard in their academic research on slimes, oozes, puddings, jellies and other related dungeon-blobs." - Making Up Adventurers, Cohost, 2024

The faint sound of a bell ringing brought Olivine slowly out of a hard-earned slumber, a drool-damp scrap of parchment sticking to his face as he roused and sat up at his writing desk. The thrilling life of the academic.

It wasn’t the ensorcelled bells the Magisterium used to announce a convening, or the sharp clang of a wooden spoon on a pot that heralded mealtimes for the apprentices and magii. More like a cowbell, maybe. He rose from his creaking stool with a groan, and poked his head out into the empty hallway. Yes, there it was, even clearer than before. Someone was definitely ringing a bell in the condemned east wing of the former Imperial Magisterium building, or what was left of it.

“You can’t be serious. It’s two in the morning!” He stuffed his feet into his slippers and went stomping down the halls, passing the snoring guard seated at the door with a snort. It was a clear night, and otherwise fairly quiet. He might not even have heard the bell if not for that. He ducked under the stanchions blocking the doors, and peered into a building he hadn’t entered since that incident with the mage-hand fellow knocking down half of the city years ago. He drew a deep breath and called out into the dark hallway, “Whatever fools are messing about, that’s enough! Get out of here before I bring the guardsmen!” The bell didn’t cease, or even falter. The mage scowled and stepped over some rubble, venturing inside.

The halls which had once bustled with wizards, apprentices, researchers and alchemists now seemed so desolate, a thick layer of dust coating almost everywhere he looked. It was, he had to admit, a little eerie here – a place that had once been full of life, now as silent as a tomb. A tomb with an idiot cowherd jangling a bell. Where was that damned ringing even COMING from? He called forth a small ball of reddish-yellow witchfire and set it floating just above him, banishing the shadows, and followed the sound, deep into the dark, down spiraling stairs into the below ground levels. He hadn’t liked this area even when the building was inhabited, and now in this abandoned state it was uncomfortable. Was it always so dank? The hall had a musty scent, and the air was thick and wet. Ah, there! There it was – one of the doors had a bell hanging outside of it! A thin chain through the wall was yanking on it, and it jangled persistently.

Olivine banged on the door with an angry fist. “That’s enough!! Some of us are engaged in important research! What the devil do you think you’re up to?” The tugging didn’t even slow, and he hesitated. Was this some sort leftover automated mechanism someone had forgotten after the building was emptied? Or maybe… a test subject left behind, emerged from some slumber? Perhaps he should get the guard after all. But then again, it might be something interesting… He made up his mind.

The door swung open with a creak, revealing what looked like a research lab similar to his own, brightly lit with candles, with tables and shelves arrayed with jarred research samples of some sort of liquid. He entered hesitantly, squinting against the light.

“Hello?”

The little chain led back, back, to a chamber with glass walls, which seemed to contain – “Good lord!”

Inside the chamber was a gelatinous cube, the sort of monstrous ooze that the city used to keep the sewers free of refuse, vermin, and people. And floating within the cube holding the end of the bell’s chain was a nude woman, wearing heavy goggles over her eyes and a swim cap, a glass rod held in her lips extending all the way outside of the cube. As he got closer, she seemed to notice him, and through the blurry, wobbly creature, he saw her pointing to a rope lying on the floor, the end of which had dissolved into uselessness.

“Don’t worry! I’ll – I’ll get you free! Just wait!” He cleared his throat, and stepped back, taking the stance to cast Ullmer’s Lesser Obliteration, but stopped when he saw the woman inside shaking her head vigorously and crossing her arms.

“No? No?? But you’ll – What are you pointing at?“ He looked around the room again, and in the corner found a pile of tools and implements, leaning haphazardly against the wall. One of them, a dull metal hook on a long iron pole, just might do the trick. He’d have to get pretty close to that thing, however. He grabbed it with both hands, and returned to door, seeing the figure within nodding, giving him a thumbs-up through the goo. He cautiously opened the glass door and stepped into the chamber, coughing at the vinegar scented humidity of the air within.

The cube didn’t turn, or move, but he still felt that it was somehow aware of him – it’s wiggles and jiggles seeming to increase as he inched nearer. But that may have been the woman’s own attempts to swim closer stirring it’s various… ichors around, within. Steeling himself but prepared to leap back if the thing lunged, he gingery pressed the iron hook against it’s trembling side, shuddering in disgust as the membrane first resisted, and then abruptly yielded, allowing him to slide the tool in easily. The woman inside grabbed hold with both hands, and he throw his weight back, hauling her towards the creature’s exterior with all his strength, feet slipping at the last moment on the slick tiled floor and depositing him flat on his back. It was enough momentum that she finally pulled free with what could only be called a slurp, and fell coughing and gasping for breath on top of him, slick with cool goo that he could feel soaking into his robes already.

“Thank-“ She broke into a second cough, and spat unceremoniously to the side, as she sat up, straddling him. Olivine tried very hard not to think about it, or stare. “Thank you! I was beginning to think no one would come, and that would have been unfortunate! All of my research would have been pointless!”

“R-Research! You would have been dead!”

“That’s the thrilling life of an academic! Risking it all, for knowledge!”

“Don’t be absurd. Also, um, you’re – let’s move to the other room, away from that thing.”

“Oh, of course, of course.”

As she climbed off of him, he realized that he recognized the chubby little woman, though he wasn’t quite sure how yet. She walked around the monster, bare feet slapping on the wet tile, and cheerfully followed him out once she had retrieved a pair of incredibly thick spectacles from a table.

“I’m glad I didn’t take these inside. The gelatin won’t damage glass, but the wood of my frames would be ruined.” As she put them on and grinned cheerfully at him, it finally came home.

“Meghanna! You’re Meghanna, I know you! You were the one with that thing with the dragon!” He was agog – he hadn’t seen her in so long, he was sure she had departed the academy afterwards.

“Oh, that was years ago. The worms I found on that trip were very interesting – one of these days I’ve got to publish the research I performed with them. Right now I’m onto something else, though. Really great stuff.”

“What stuff? And do you want a… towel, or something…?” Olivine coughed politely into his hand, but Meg shook her head, seemingly totally unperturbed by standing around in her skin in front of a total stranger.

“No need, this stuff will flake off once it dries. Besides, it disintegrates plant fibers very quickly, I’ve learned. It’s much more effective on those than animal tissues, I think.” She bent down under her desk to retrieve something, and Olivine began to sweat a little. “Here!” She set a box down, rattling the jars inside. “I’ve got samples of more than three dozen different oozes, slimes, puddings, ichors, gels, jellies, and snots, from the various cave systems and dungeons within one hundred leagues of here. And I’ve been testing their properties, seeing if they have any applications that could be useful in food processing, or industry. We already use them for keeping things clean, why not explore more applications?”

“Because they aren’t safe! That one there attacked you!”

Meg blinked and looked over at the cube, which had begun to ooze aimlessly about its chamber. “Oh, no it didn’t. I was performing a test. I noticed when I was collecting my samples in the springtime that often I’d find these things with dead animals floating in them in their winter coats. I have a feeling that most people who die from these creatures aren’t killed by the digestion, but by drowning. I was inside of that thing for twenty minutes-“

“Twenty minutes!?”

“- and the only part of myself to be eaten was my pubic hair.” He was startled to see she was right, his cheeks reddening. “People entering caves or dungeons can bring hooks along to retrieve their friends if they should happen to be swallowed. This information will save lives!”

“S-still, that was far too reckless. You mustn’t do that again without someone to act as a safeguard!”

“Oh, I was sure someone would come along. And here you are! What was your name again?”

“Olivine the Extravagant. Ollie.”

“Meghanna the Magnificent. Meg.” She clasped hands with him and smiled. “Let’s head over to my room and scrape this off, put on fresh robes, and I’ll show you my notes.”

“Oh, I couldn’t, I ought to get back to my own-“

“You’re going to make quite the sensation in the Magisterium walking around like that.”

As he looked down, Ollie gasped to see that the cotton and linen of his robes and undergarments were in tatters, the material dissolved by the goo which had soaked it. He covered his groin with both hands, embarrassed, but the fat little wizard laughed and took him by the elbow and led him away.

The thrilling life of an academic, indeed!

"A mage who meant to sign up for the course on worm studies, not the course on wyrm studies!" - Making Up Adventurers, Cohost, 2023

The first prompt I made, and the first story I wrote!

"I'm not-" wheeze "even supposed-" gasp "to be here!" Came the huffed protests of the little mage trailing at the back of the group.

Meghanna The Magnificent (or 'Meg the Mole' as other apprentices referred to her behind her back and also to her face) was not dressed for an excursion onto the Glassplains - she was more prepared for an afternoon working in the Academy's botanical sanctuary. Robes reinforced for kneeling and working in the soil, an apron with sample cups and empty jars, a pack full of tools and the various accoutrements of a mage in the studies of earth and growing were in stark contrast to the tough leathers and spell-woven shields of her classmates. She took care to avoid following the footsteps of the others, whose hard boots broke the thin crust of glass that covered much of the soil here, leaving splinters that could shred her thin shoes to ribbons.

Magister Porphyry, the wizard leading the group, signalled a pause and folded his arms impatiently as he waited for Meg to catch up. "Magus Meglana- "

"Meghanna." Several mages snickered quietly.

"Magus Meghada, that is enough!" He managed to snap and whisper at the same time. "Mixups regarding course assignments are not my problem, they are yours. What IS my problem is that you are slowing us down, making an appalling amount of noise, and generally being a real DRAG during what is supposed to be one of the highlights of this course - the field observations of the Glassplains Hellkite." The irate wizard's volume began to climb, and Meghanna cringed into her robes. "I am solving MY problem right now. If you insist you do not belong here, you may wait right here in this spot. Silently! When we have completed our observations, we will return this way and you may accompany us back to the designated Longjump portal site. Otherwise, come along, and attend. You may learn something of use to you in your, your... worm... studies. I will hear nothing further from you!"

Without waiting for a reply, the Magister turned on his heel with the crunch of splintering glass and stomped away, the other apprentices in the group smirking as they followed along, till Meg was left alone for a moment before shamefacedly trailing after the rear of the group.

Meg found herself unable to really hear Porphyry's whispered descriptions of the Glassyard Heckflier or whatever it was called, however, and instead found her gaze fixed on the ground. The glass was broken here and there by short, small leaves shrubs that pushed their way up through the crust, with thin bark that showed signs of surviving many, many fires. Small sticks and twigs lay in the ground below, long burned, studded with seedpods that had burst open in the heat. "Fire ecology," she mumbled to herself.

She knelt down, doubly grateful for the kneel padding on the front of her robe on the dangerous surface, and poked with growing curiosity at the exposed soil with the tip of the trowel she had brought, turning some over. A surprising amount of creatures began to squirm back under cover - beetles, ants, an earthworm of surprising charcoal black shade. She gently plucked it out, letting it wriggle in her palm. The soft body went from glossy black to ashen grey as she held it, and began to glow just beneath the surface, looking for all the world like a twig of ember in her palm. "Lumbricus... lumbricus ignis. Bonfire worm. Beautiful..." Something about it's presence unsettled her, though. She gently dropped it into a specimen jar with some soil and pocketed it. Bonfire worms. What was it about them?

She dusted herself off as she rose back to her feet, turning back the way the group had come, and froze. The footsteps left by the group positively WRITHED with the black worms, wiggling up from below and spilling onto the surface. Meg took a step back in alarm, sparking a grouchy protest from the apprentice she bumped into. The earth under the nearby bushes was also beginning to shift and churn as bonfire worms erupted to the surface. She suddenly recalled the other name associated with Lumbricus ignis. Wildfire worms. They had a mild mystical property of emerging in the moments before a fire broke out. In some lands they were used as a last moment warning system of sorts to prepare for a burn.

The gathered wizards startled as Meg's voice - usually described as "squeaky" or "mumbly" blasted loudly through bespelled hands. "EVERYONE TAKE COVER RIGHT NOW!" As they turned, they saw her summoning ghostly mole-like claws to the end of her hands and burrowing rapidly into the soil, ignoring the glass cutting her fingers. Then the wise among the group immediately ducked behind their shields, spells flaring up with protection against fire.

Porphyry, angry at this new interruption, began to shout a rebuke, and failed to notice the truly splendid example of the Glassplains Hellkite, crimson and scarlet, sweeping towards the group. Flying barely ten feet above the surface, it began to spew a wall of flame that swept over the group before it, roasting the flatfooted Magister in a single (mercifully short) moment. The surviving magi saw the beast snatch him up with it's claws in a motion described as "elegant" and "graceful" by many of them.

After a few minutes, the limited amount of fuel on the ground burnt away, and other than the smoke, soot and a brittle, thin coat of fresh glass in the sand, most of the evidence of the fire was gone. The worms retreated to the soil, and Meg the Mole poked her head back up from the ground, blinking in the bright light and hot air. "...if anyone is looking for something to fill the gap in their schedule now, I think there's still seats available in Mystic Vermiculture."