Return to the Old Gobblin Factory

I fall backwards, hitting the ground like a sack of sweaty laundry. My breath is sawing in and out of my lungs like I've just tried to bench press a rhinoceros made of fire. My body is a tightrope of twitching muscle and overcooked nerves. Everything burns. My Stamina bar is just an empty outline pulsing a violent red.

I lie there, blinking at the sky. I wait for the debuff timer from the rogue's dagger cut to time out. "Now this really sucks!" I gasp. I've depleted by Stamina before, but doing so after a strenuous couple of battles felt like a whole new kind of suffering.

The moment the timer ticks out, I withdraw a Stamina Potion and slam it like it's the most important post-leg-day protein shake of my life. Warmth spreads through me, a bubbling, almost carbonated fizz of strength threading back into my veins.

I push myself up, legs wobbling like they've forgotten how knees work. The first thing I do is check on Clyde. He's bound—same black iron chains Veronica is wrapped in—but now I don't feel the weird aura feedback when I touch them.

Must have been Spells one of those two guys were concentrating on, I think.

Clyde's breathing. Barely. His chest rises and falls in shallow little flutters. But he's alive… For now.

"I got you," I whisper. "Just hang on, dude." Damn, I could really use a healing potion just about now. Problem is, when I left the others to pursue Jelly Boy I'm pretty sure Clyde said the last of our Health Potions were in Veronica's Inventory. Maybe I can loot some potions from these elves.

But first, I had to check on Jelly Boy.

I stand up. Stumble a little. Then glance toward the steaming corpse of our unfortunate slime-powered meat airship. The dead wyrmling is a lot less majestic now and a lot more... road kill? The thing looks in worse shape than when our three slime companions took control of it. I'm not sure if that's a result of the wyrmling's natural accelerated decomposition or the slime's deteriorating ooze.

I jog—okay, I hobble… aggressively—around the dragon's bloating midsection.

"Jelly Boy!" I shout, already bracing for the worst. The dragon had rolled onto him when it went down. The battle had only been a few minutes long, and I would have expected my little President Ooze to have joined the fray. Unless he's been converted into a slick blue pancake. But anything that can survive a dragon's plasma breath can survive being smushed by a dragon corpse, right?

A squirming, gelatinous pseudopod pops out from beneath the carcass like a wiggling flag of hope. It waves wildly, as if trying to signal "Alive, just squished!"

"YES!" I yell.

I sprint (actual more of a jog this time!), to Jelly Boy's arm-like waving pseudopod.

"Tom! Jax!... Uh. And Tom!" I yell.

The three humanoid-shaped slimes are lying in a jiggly daze nearby, like they just went twelve rounds with a blender. They make sad little burble noises, not unlike hungover frat boys who regret everything from the night before.

"Get up, guys! I'm gonna need you three to get this dragon moving again. Just for a little longer."

They stare at me.

I point a finger. "Yes, move your asses."

To their credit, they try. The each stumble to their jelly-mold feet and begin to enlarge and stretch, gooey pseudopods reaching towards the wyrmling's corpse.

Okay, Jelly Boy. Let's get you out from under there.

I plant my feet, dig deep, drawing on all of my Strength stat, and grab hold of the wyrmling's torso. There's not much there to get a good grip, but I try and picture myself flipping a gigantic, awkwardly shaped tire. I get low and explode upward with all my might. Muscle burn, bone protest. But I'm lifting, pulling the dragon's body up with me.

And slowly, slowly, the dragon's corpse is lifted enough for me to see a blue pancake-like splatter of ooze on the ground. Two, dog-like black eyes float in the soupy messy, looking up at me with gratitude.

Jelly Boy peels off the ground like a sticker stuck to a sweaty gym locker. He sloshes once. Then twice. And finally inflates with a fartlike pop, filling with air and wobbling upright.

"You good?" I ask, groaning under the weight of the wyrmling's corpse.

He burbles once, then bounces out from under the dragon. As soon as the slime is clear, I let the weight drop back to the ground.

Jelly Boy bounces towards his three gelatinous guards. He launches into a vibrating tirade of gurgles, squeaks, and accusatory blarps.

Tom slinks backward. Jax tries to melt into the dirt. Other Tom just lies down and plays dead.

Jelly Boy follows them like an angry toddler made of blueberry yogurt, berating them for their failures. I can only imagine what he's saying to them in their strange language. Probably something about missing the opportunity to control a zombie dragon in battle. It's good to have the little guy back.

I walk over, reaching down and giving the little guy a gentle pat on the top of his head.

"Come on," I whisper. "We're not out yet. The sooner we put this mountain behind us, the better. Preferably before any of these guys start to wake up."

Jelly Boy bends his body forward in the approximation of a nod.

"Right," I say. "You get these three back onto the dragon and prepared for takeoff. I'm going to get Veronica and Clyde and see if any of these guys got anything good on them we could use."

He nods again, before returning to his task.

While Jelly Boy blorps and grumps at his trio of Jell-O-brained interns and they re-glorp themselves back into dragon-control position, I get to looting.

"To the victor goes the spoils," I mutter, already jogging to the elf mage.

I examine his unconscious body. The System doesn't ping me with a loot prompt, though. Which is unfortunate. I check a couple of the other bodies, and similarly am not given the chance to loot them. Perhaps System-enabled looting was only possible with corpses?

I squint down at the still-breathing, but very much unconscious elf. His limbs are twitching slightly. He doesn't look like he's carrying much on his person. Probably have an Inventory-like storage space. My eyes wander to the hat sitting loosely on top of his head. The hat that just tried to incinerate me. It looks like a patched up hand-me-down version of my own hat—innocent and soft, as if it didn't contain a mouth full of fire.

So, I can't technically loot these guys. But there's nothing stopping me from just... taking stuff with my own two hands?

I snatch the hat.

As soon as I do, I'm prompted by a System message.

Item: Behemoth Cap (Legendary)

[Description: This hat contains the soul fragment of a fire elemental behemoth named Shogmoth. It naturally generates fire mana at a rate of 2 mana per minute. It is capable of using accumulated mana to cast spells through the conjured Maw of Shogmoth.]

I let out a soft whistle. Not bad, not bad at all. I deposit the hat into my Inventory.

Next, I rifle through his cloak. No shiny trinkets, no potions. No mystery spell scrolls. I give him a courtesy pat-down for good measure. Nothing. Well, that's disappointing.

Then, I saunter over to the rogue—well, most-of-a-rogue now. The one-armed man is deathly still, face bruised and bloody from my spectral hands forcing him to take an impromptu nap. A pool of blood is gathered beneath him from the wound at his shoulder where his arm decided to slough itself from the rest of his body.

He's dangerous, so I'm hesitant to get too close to his actual person less I get shanked in a surprise attack. Instead, I opt for finding his two daggers. The first is curved, black, and serrated like the smile of something you hope to never see in your bathroom mirror when you're alone at night.

Item: Succubus Fang (Legendary)

[Description: A master-crafted blade made from the fang of the dangerous Succubus. It grants its user access to the Skill 'Heretical Slash' when wielding this weapon.]

Skill: Heretical Slash

[Description: A slashing attack that is capable of dealing additional damage to a target's Stamina. At higher levels of mastery, this Skill is capable of inflicting the 'Strength Sap' debuff. This Skill has a chance to inflict the 'Bleed' status condition.]

The second dagger is mundane looking until it catches the sun at a specific angle, suddenly becoming translucent, crystalline.

Item: Glass Phantom (Legendary)

[Description: A master-crafted blade made from pure Breath Essence. It grants its user access to the Skill 'Silencer' when wielding this weapon.]

Skill: Silencer

[Description: When this Skill is activated all sound produced by its user is muffled. At higher levels of mastery, this Skill is capable of being placed on other objects and persons. At higher levels of mastery, this Skill further increases in strength, eventually eliminating all sound.]

Two legendary knives: into the Inventory they go.

That's when I notice the unread System notification blinking in the bottom corner of my HUD. I don't remember suppressing any notifications, but must have subconsciously done so. Or was simply too drained to notice. With a mental swipe of the hand, I open the notifications.

QUEST UPDATE (A Hero Arrives!): You have saved your allies. You have defeated Illrune Abascal and Dain Wraithart.

QUEST COMPLETE: A Hero Arrives!

You have received: Advanced Spellcaster's Chest (x1).

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Congratulations! You have successfully completed all Quest Bonus Objectives. Your Advanced Spellcaster's Chest has been upgraded to a Legendary Spellcaster's Chest.

Holy shit! … Hell. Yes. Even more legendary loot!

Legendary Spellcaster's Chest has been added to your Inventory.

SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Your Inventory is currently at maximum capacity. You will no longer be able to deposit additional items into your Inventory. To deposit additional items, expand Inventory or remove items from Inventory space.

The urge to crack the Legendary Chest open now nearly overrides my survival instincts. But despite what the System considers 'saved' I won't feel better until we're all far, far away from here. Preferably back on Earth. Not to mention, I'm not sure how many items may be in this new Legendary Chest. With a maxed out Inventory, it would be better to open it when I'm back home.

I grab Clyde and Veronica. Whatever curses were in the chains are definitely gone, but the after-effects linger like a bad hangover.

"Hey, guys," I whisper. "We're gonna get you out of here."

I break the chains binding them. The links snap away easily when I pull them apart. They're both limp and pale. If it wasn't for the subtle movement in their chests and breath escaping their lips, I'd swear they were dead. I can also feel the tiny threads of regeneration starting. Slow, but it's there. Still, who knows how long it will take before they have enough Health and regen accumulated to actually wake up.

Behind me, the slime dragon rumbles. The three stooges—Tom, Other Tom, and Jax—have officially retaken control of the wyrmling's corpse. Jelly Boy, perched like a furious blueberry atop the wyrmling's spine, waves a pseudopod at me like, "Get your ass on, we're burning daylight and corpse integrity."

I scoop up the glimmering wyrmling core from where it sits on a stone slab, still pulsing softly and humming with the dancing purple electrical currents within.

Climbing onto the back of a rotting, slime-covered dragon is exactly as unpleasant as it sounds. Everything squelches. Everything is starting to really stink. I take the chain reins in one hand, monster core tucked in the crook of my other arm, and Jelly Boy and I direct the slime-controlled dragon to pick up the still-unconscious Clyde and Veronica gently. They do so with surprising grace and fine motor control.

Then we're airborne.

Below us, the unconscious elves are strewn like discarded dolls. Their massive millipede mounts are still curled up. Nobody gives chase.

Jelly Boy glances back at me, vibrating with pride. I nod to him. "Let's go home."

Our flight takes us away from Mount Alkazab, over the forests and into the grassy fields where four months ago I had found myself after entering my first Gate. By the time we touch down, the wyrmling's corpse is barely hanging together. It flops into the grass field like overcooked pasta, skin sloughing, meat steaming, bone creaking ominously like it's asking us politely to let it disintegrate into nothingness. It lets Jelly Boy and I dismount, then sets Clyde and Veronica down before taking several wobbly steps away from their prone figures, and then the dragon just… gives up. Collapses into a gooey tangle of viscera and slime-drenched parts. The smell wafting off of the mess is like hot sewage. I cover my nose and mouth with my free hand.

The three humanoid-shaped blobs—Tom, Jax, and Other Tom—pop free like grapes squeezed from their skins, flopping unceremoniously into the field before hopping upright with exaggerated salutes. Jelly Boy buzzes a curt, annoyed note and hops down off my shoulder, landing with a wobble beside me.

I squint around, heart thumping. I take in the lush grass fields and hills, with the swaths of purple flowers adding pops of color across the landscape.

"Damn," I mutter. "Feels like a lifetime ago."

Jelly Boy buzzes softly beside me, almost nostalgic. I glance down at him. He buzzes again. I think he remembers too. To think he was nothing more than a monster spawn in a tutorial, and now was one of my best pals, bonded through shared trauma.

Veronica stirs. I'm at her side in a second, propping her up. "Hey. Hey, think you can withdraw one of your Health potions?... I think you could use one."

She groans, but in a flash of pixelated light a vial of red liquid appears in her loose grip at her side. I grab the vial, uncork it and I press a health potion to her lips. She drinks, grimacing, then sighs like her soul just returned from a long, unpaid internship in hell.

Clyde groans, twitching. "Are we dead?" he croaks.

"Nope," I say. "Worse. You're still with me."

As though reading my thoughts, a second potion appears in Veronica's hand. I take it before gently placing her head back down.

I walk over to Clyde and help him take the potion. He chokes it down with a wince, coughing and wheezing. By the time he's finished it, Veronica's already sitting up, her color returning. Their regeneration seems to be kicking in with a little more gusto, which means they have sufficient Health.

Clyde squints at the three humanoid slimes. "Wh—what the hell are those things?"

I scratch the back of my head. "Long story. They're Jelly Boy's goons now. He's got a whole slime entourage." Veronica opens her mouth to ask another question, but I hold up a hand. "Don't ask. I'll explain later."

I rise to my feet, dragon core in hand, and nod toward the factory. "First—we need to drop this thing off. Before it's too late and we're stuck needing to find another dragon to get out of this place."

"Agreed," says Clyde. He groans in pain as he pushes himself to his feet.

The seven of us—me, Clyde, Veronica, Jelly Boy, and the three Stooges of Slime—head toward the location of the factory, which I direct us towards using my Map of the area. I keep a steady pace, trying not to push Veronica and Clyde too hard. As we walk, I fill them in on what happened with the slime hive.

"So… Jelly Boy is a king now?" asks Veronica.

"Technically, he's president," I say.

Jelly Boy gives a happy little burp, bouncing alongside us.

"And what are we going to do with this slime army that he commands?" asks Clyde. "One slime coming back to Earth? Probably not a big deal. An entire hive of these things?" He nods his head to Tom… Or, was it Other Tom? "You're probably having several Guilds knocking on your front door."

"I don't think I've given Jelly Boy's new presidential duties much thought," I say. What were we going to do once we received our Gate Key back home? "Jelly?"

Jelly Boy glances up at me and his blobby form shifts in the approximation of a shrug. 'That's a problem for future Jelly Boy,' it says. Even though that future may be less than a day away.

The factory is just as I remember it: a squat, industrial building with massive smokestacks rising into the sky. Only now, the smokestacks aren't coughing up large clouds of black smoke. We approach the large main doors to the building, each twice my height and rusted over.

"Do we knock?" asks Veronica.

"I know a couple ways in," I say. "But I think we can just open the front door."

No taking the rooftop entrance this time, I think. This time, I walk straight up and push the door open with a single hand. They grind against the floor, swinging inward and letting light flood into the large factory floor.

Inside, the floor is weirdly quiet. The sounds of pukwudgies at work and the roar and rumbling of machinery were all absent, replaced by silence. And an awkward cough.

"Hello?" I ask. My voice echoes through the dim and seemingly empty factory.

A pukwudgie clamors out from behind one of the still, lifeless conveyor belt. It's just as I remember: a short, hunched greenish-skinned humanoid covered in coarse dark hair with a pig-like snout and large, pointed ears. It stops the moment it sees me.

"IT'S HIM! HE'S BACK!... BACK TO BATHE IN OUR BLOOD!"

Several other pukwudgies scurry from shadowed corners of the factory floor. They scatter like cockroaches at a flashlight rave. One actually launches himself into a barrel, closing the lid to the barrel behind him.

"Woah!... Woah, woah! Hey, there! I come in peace!" I shout, hands up. "I promise!"

One brave soul peeks out from behind a welding rig, eyes squinting. "You swear it? You're not going to stomp us to death?"

"What did you do here?" Clyde whispers to me.

"Shush!" I say. I address the brave pukwudgie. "We're here to help this time… I think! Is there someone currently running this place?" I rack my memories from my initial trip to the factory. "Maybe the one I gave the keys to this place?"

"Tom!" another squeals. "Get Tom!"

The brave pukwudgie scrambles up to the iron balcony and into one of the offices overlooking the factory floor. Eventually, a pudgy, nervous-looking pukwudgie emerges from the second-story manager's office, clutching a clipboard in his hands, holding it before him like a shield. He makes his way toward us in slow, deliberate steps.

"...You came back," he says. "I assume you're here to take the factory. Well, it's too late. Place isn't working anymore."

"Hey, Tom. So, you still remember me?"

"Took days to clean all the blood..."

"What the fuck," Veronica whispers.

"Right. Sorry. Again. About all that… Good news—I think brought a present." I nod to Jelly Boy. He glurps something imperious and the three humanoid slimes waddle forward, dragging the dragon core. They place it before the pukwudgie.

A gasp ripples across the room. Several pukwudgies faint. One cries. Tom just stares.

"Why?" he asks. "How did you know we needed this? … What do you want?"

I shrug. "Call it an apology for... ya know." I gesture vaguely. "Last time."

Tom nods slowly and gestures for the others to help. They roll the core into a massive, rust-choked furnace unit at the back of the factory. As soon as the core settles into its socket, the entire building hums.

Whhrrrrr!!...

The entire floor kicks into life. Lights flicker. Gears grind. Pistons hiss.

I blink. "Wait. So... the dragon core powers the factory?"

Tom nods. "Didn't used to. But now it will." He looks around, assessing the machinery. "Will need to inspect everything, make sure it's all in order."

I cough, awkwardly clearing my throat. "I am sorry, for how things went down last time."

Tom waves me off. "Can't say we weren't spooked, when some savage hobo strolls in while we're on the job and murders Gluttony's men. At first, we were worried it was one of the other Hand, sending someone to weaken Gluttony. But after a while, we realized it was just a random act of nature. Took it as a second chance."

"Second chance to do what, exactly?" I ask.

He smiles, baring small, sharp teeth. "For us pukwudgies to make a life for ourselves and our villages."

Tom begins to stroll towards one of the conveyor belts that hadn't started up automatically when they installed the dragon core.

"What do you make here, exactly?" asks Clyde.

"Weapons," Tom says, nonchalantly.

"Oh. That's...great," I say.

"We'll make weapons to protect ourselves. From the gobblins. From Gluttony. This factory doesn't serve them anymore. It serves us now."

A slow smile tugs at my lips. "Well. Guess you guys are unionizing."

"Unionizing?" he asks.

"Er—never mind."

Behind me, Jelly Boy vibrates proudly. He's undulating and jiggling like he's doing a little victory dance. Tom, Jax, and Other Tom join the fanfare, awkwardly dancing around their president slime like they're doing a bad rendition of a Peanuts special.

Ping!

A pulsing sensation echoes through my mind and core and I'm met with faintly glowing blue text in my System interface.

QUEST COMPLETE: Beyond the Bronze Horizon.

[This is a shared Quest. All rewards will be shared with your Party.]

Reward: Your party has received a Return Key (x1).

[Note: This is a fleeting item. It may only be used once.]

[Note: This is a fleeting item. It must be used within 1 minute. Once the time has passed, the item will lose all functionality. A new Quest will be initiated.]

I blink.

Then I scream, "YES! Woo hoo!" My voice echoes off the factory rafters. The pukwudgies flinch. Clyde raises an eyebrow. Veronica winces, still holding her side. Jelly Boy buzzes in delighted confusion. The Slimy Stooges continue to dance.

"… Uh, wait—one minute?!"

Confusion furrows Clyde's brow. Then, his eyes flash with the faintest blue light and I realize he's just now seeing the notification. "Ah…" he says.

"I don't understand the time limit… But we should hurry up before we're stuck here," Veronica says.

"It's how Gates often work. Usually at the end of each dungeon, the adventuring party gets the option to turn back or keep going further. It's typically before the extraction team gets called in."

I withdraw the Return Key and an old fashioned key of bronze appears in my hand. I extend it in front of me, ready to summon the Gate back home.

"A little faster, please… I think those battles gave me scoliosis," groans Veronica.

"Shhh," I say. "Don't ruin this for me."

I mentally activate the key and a shimmering golden keyhole made of light appears in the air before me, its edges crackling with energy. I insert the key and turn. The key dissolves into golden fireflies of light, which are sucked into the keyhole as though through some dimensional shop vac. The keyhole darkens, and then expands, becoming a tear in reality large enough for us to walk through.

The Gate is a swirling vortex of deep violet, flickering gold threads crisscrossing its surface like veins. It hovers in the middle of the factory floor, crackling with energy. A tugging breeze pushes at my back from some invisible source, drawing me towards the precipice of the Gate.

Veronica, still recovering, looks at the Gate with open relief. "Home," she sighs.

Home. Damn. That sounds… good.

"You guys first," I say, nodding to Clyde and Veronica.

Veronica is the first to go. She steps through the portal, her form fading and leaving my a faint impression of her shape before that too fades to nothingness. Clyde follows shortly after.

I turn to Jelly Boy, who is bouncing slowly, back and forth, like a toddler unsure if he's in trouble or about to get a treat.

"Hey, bud," I say, kneeling down. "You've got options now. You've got a Hive. You're their president. Their...slime-in-chief. Do you want to go back to them? I'll be sad, I can't lie. But I won't blame you."

The buzzing stops. Jelly Boy freezes.

Then, without warning, he launches himself through the air like a sentient Jell-O grenade and slaps into my chest. I catch him with a grunt. He nestles in, warm and gurgly, oozing affection and loyalty.

"Alright then," I laugh, hugging him. "Guess we're not done being co-dependent weirdos."

I look up, finding Tom, Jax, and Other Tom staring at me.

"Uhhh…"

What did we do with these three? Before I can give the question further thought, the three humanoid slimes charge and leap, dogpiling onto me in a gigantic group hug. Jelly Boy—squeeze in my arms and against my chest by the tripe-slime hug, looks up at me with questioning eyes.

"Fine, fine. Them too!" I say. "Okay… Okay! You can let go of me now!" The three slimes step away from me. They're harmless. Probably.

With that, I gesture toward the Gate. The slime trio waddles toward the portal, doing synchronized finger guns even though they don't technically have fingers. Just like Clyde and Veronica, they fade as soon as they touch the face of the portal.

I stand last, holding Jelly Boy close, heart hammering.

I glance back once. The factory hums with life. The pukwudgies are waving. Tom stands there, arms crossed, clearly confused. Clearly ready for us to leave his world once more. I look down at Jelly Boy one more time, giving him a gentle, affirming squeeze, before stepping through the Gate.

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