But for a Slime

Joe blinked in surprise when one came forward and took a swing at him, but he responded in kind and buried a fist in the man’s gut. He proved remarkably fragile and curled over the fist and dropped to the ground like a rock, retching up his last meal. The sound of the man’s dry heaving stopped the others from rushing him, and Joe began shouting at the rest, cursing them out and belittling them with some of the harshest words ever to leave his mouth. He wasn’t much one for cursing, but he found that his temper and frustration just from this journey was enough to push him in ways he never thought possible. He finally finished his tirade and turned to the family, shooing them together to pack their belongings and beckoned them to join him and Garnedell.

They moved down the road another hour or two since Joe had no desire to stay anywhere near the ruthless bastards and wanted to be gone far enough to discourage being followed or ambushed in the night. They made camp in early twilight next to a largish stream, much to Joe’s great relief. The banks proved quite steep and the river, while narrow, was a rushing mass of white water, making it difficult to pass except for a rather small but vital bridge just wide enough to allow a cart to pass. Despite that, Joe still immediately scrambled down the sides to bury his hands in the water and wash them, relieved to find them finally clean and not sticky. He also pulled out his spear and carefully washed it as well, having used it to fight. He then carefully dried it on his tunic, wishing to protect the metal from any rust. Is it even iron? Can it rust? Not sure…

He then came back up to see the family on the other side, preparing and evening campfire in a nice wide open glen and Joe figured it was as good a place as any. He crossed the river, into the wide open glen with the river bounding one side and the road running along another, almost perpendicular to the river. The other two sides were bounded by dense forest. In the middle of the glen, a rather enormous tree grew, leaving the glade empty but for itself. They crossed the river and he put the river at their backs and set up a fire for their camp. The weather was quite mild, still, so the fire was mainly for cooking their food and a distraction if those adventure groups showed up. He placed the family and Garnedell a bit away from the fire, and he himself was another ten feet beyond that closer to the bridge. If the adventurers were going to attack, they would likely be aiming for him.

He took the time to pull out his old parachute, setting it up like a sleeping bag near the fire. He cut the parachute lines and tied them around the camp as a poor trip wire with various noisemakers hanging from them to alert him through the night. Garnedell and the family spent their time preparing their camping needs and the family offered to take care of the evening meal. Joe accepted graciously, although he also added some meat and some of the supplies for the dinner. The wife took over the dinner while kids seemed to help a bit. Both the boy and the girl seemed to alternate between helping the mother and the father, coming as each were called and Joe felt a bit uncomfortable since he didn’t have many skills to offer. He did find the work of the family strange to watch. He thought it seemed to follow typical family roles with the father taking care of most of the ‘strong’ manual labor stuff and the mom taking care of the dinner. But the children’s behavior of helping both the mother and father without gender consideration left him feeling a bit confused. If guys are supposed to do ‘guy’ stuff and girls do girl ‘stuff,’ then why are the children not taught that way?

The evening seemed cheery and fun as the family shared their conversation and Garnedell enthusiastically joined in the conversation. Light hearted banter and humor punctuated the evening and Joe smiled and laughed as he followed the cues of the people around him even as he knew very little of what was said. The evening ended quickly and the family retired with only the father, Garnedell and Joe staying awake. There was some discussion, and the three began an awkward discussion on account of Joe’s non-existent language skills. It took only a few moments to realize that the other two wanted to set up a watch, and Joe whole heartedly agreed. The two spoke and wished to offer Joe the first watch, but Joe declined. If there was going to be any problem, it would likely be late at night or early morning. Joe was guessing it would be the early morning when any attack was likely to come. Besides, the hours of the day really seemed to be quite a bit longer than he was used to, something like an added six or eight hours to the day which added another three or four hours of sleep that was driving Joe a bit bonkers. He already had a struggle just sleeping the earth twelve hour nights. His normal sleep schedule was actually six to eight hours and to suddenly go to fifteen or sixteen hours a night, let alone twelve, was nearly impossible. If he slept immediately, he would easily hit his normal eight or so hours, considering a fifteen hour night split into three shifts gave him ten hours before he had to wake. Sleep wasn’t going to be a problem as long as he slept now.

Joe woke with a grunt, surprise yanking him awake when he realized Garnedell was shaking his shoulder. He stared with some bleary eyed disorientation before bringing himself awake and letting Garnedell know he was awake. Garnedell nodded with some weary gratefulness and Joe stood, stretching before standing and stretching. Subtle grunts and sighs shifted through the dim light as Joe stretched himself out before settling into his weapons harness. Once prepared, Joe circled the campsite a few times, staying well away from the glimmering coals of the campfire to try to maintain his night sight. His circling soon moved further from the campsite and he checked his tripwires he’d laid around the camp. None were disturbed and he then headed back to camp to decide where he would settle for his watch. He looked around and didn’t feel too good standing near the forest near the back of the camp and decided to head towards the road. They’d chosen a natural clearing next to a river that ran passed the road as their camp. While most of the border between the clearing and the river was clear, there was the one massive rather squat tree well off the road that broke the clear line between the clearing and the road. Huh… I wonder if they left that for any rainy days. Sure would offer a pretty good dry place to camp out!

The opposite side of the road was clear for a much shorter distance than this side, and the clearing offered a good line of sight. Joe chose the tree as an excellent location to hang out, and came upon the tree. It was a gnarled and robust thing, maybe oak or something like that although Joe’s knowledge of trees was essentially zero. His hand came upon the trunk before he caressed its rough rugged surface and turned to sit down.

“Well… this is certainly a nice place you’ve got here. You’re lucky! Donno why they left you here, but I’m sure glad they did. Haven’t seen a beautiful old tree like you in a long time! Hope it’s OK that I join you here? Keep each other company?”

Joe slid down the bark of the tree and rested against it, his penchant for rambling conversations coming out. He was bored out of his mind and desperately needed to stay awake. Talking and conversation was one way to easily stay awake and Joe took the easy way out to do so. He settled down and pretended the tree was an erudite conversation partner.

“See that group over there?”

“…”

“Yup! Them… they’re my friends. Well, one of them is. The other is just a small family who got caught up in the drama of a couple of real big jerks!”

“…”

“What happened? Well… it wasn’t that big of a deal. My friend and I came upon the family fighting a couple of ratfoxes.”

“…”

“What are ratfoxes? Right… I forgot their real names. Just the names what I call them. Give me a second. I’ll see if I can’t figure it out.”

Joe flipped open his status and looked at his log. He glanced down the list of notifications and found his recent kills. Huh… they’re actually called ratfoxes! What are the chances? Only one experience though. Joe sighed a bit and continued his imaginary conversations.

“Well, isn’t that interesting. They really are called ratfoxes! Cool. But anyway, there were a couple of obviously strong fighter types standing around watching a family get overrun by a couple of ratfoxes. I ended up killing the ratfoxes to save the family but ended up finding out the morons had taken bets to see who would win: the ratfoxes or the family. I didn’t really appreciate the bastards’ behavior and they didn’t like me ruining their bet when I saved the family from the ratfoxes. It’s why we’re camping so late here. Hope I didn’t bother you too much, but I really didn’t want to stay near people who would be willing to let someone get hurt just for fun. Set me the wrong way.”

“…”

“Eh…,” Joe shrugged his shoulders, “Well, I figured I need to at least keep them safe if the morons showed up to hurt them later. I wouldn’t be surprised if they decide to come after me, too.”

“…”

“Hmm… well. I called ‘em morons because they are! They may be strong or easily able to defend themselves, but that doesn’t make them smart! They’re idiots. They need to protect the weak or there’s no point in anything else!”

“…”

“It’s pretty obvious to me, especially given that I’ve seen what happens to a world that does it.”

“…”

“You grow! That’s what happens. You grow beyond anything anyone on this podunk little planet could ever understand! What are those idiots going to eat when they let all the farmers die? Right? It’s so simple! Why can’t they underst… Shh!”

Joe straightened quickly. He saw a single man walking over the bridge, walking jauntily over the bridge, offering no attempt at protecting himself. The man seemed to act surprised to see a glowing campfire and turned towards it before calling out, albeit just a bit softly.

“Ho the camp!”

When the camp remained silent without any reply, the man seemed to stop and consider before calling out once more, but in a much softer voice, “Ho the camp! Shul I kana your evening?”

Something about... uh... kana... kana... Kana... uh... Something... joining... to be apart of... uh... oh! What do you mean join your evening? It’s about five in the morning… well, whatever in the morning, you idiot! Joe tensed as he considered the man, then quickly looked back towards the camp, trying to see beyond it to the trees that surrounded the small family tent and the sleeping bag he had left behind. Joe’s cynicism began to calm as he saw no movement in the trees, but then his concern spiked when a shadow seemed to ooze out from under the covering branches. He quickly pulled out his bow and arrow and settled an arrow into his string and pulled it back.

“I really wish I’d my hunter job right now,” Joe muttered with some anger under his breath.

His eyes steeled as he glanced around. He saw the man who’d come over the bridge had now pulled out his sword and was stalking closer to the camp in a crouch. Another three shadows detached from the forest behind the camp and a small curse came from his lips. He stepped forward to offer himself a bit of movement away from the tree trunk. Suddenly, he heard the sound of rustling wind as the tree above him shook and a brush of a twig or branch scraped across his shoulder. The touch on his shoulder surprised him, and he turned quickly. He looked quickly, finding nothing, and returned to his main focus. They’ll die if I don’t do something!