Keireer was used to standing out in a crowd. It wasn’t just that, like many of her kind, she had vibrant green plumage; she was also tall enough to tower at least a head above most people she met on her travels.


On the borders of the great Green Forest, Keireer had found a small town where she hoped to find work. That hadn’t been going too well, and she had begun to grow worried about how light her purse had become.


She had always been fascinated by settlements. Her people were nomadic, never settling too long in one place. Their customs were rooted in tradition. They migrated to both avoid enemies and to give the land time to heal after they took part in its resources. It wasn’t uncommon for a member of her tribe to go their entire lives without having settled twice in one place.


Here, life was different. Among the outsiders, where Keireer now found herself, they took pride in settling. Generations upon generations would be born and come in the same place. Their efforts shaped the land and stymied the spread of the encroaching forest. They had turned wilderness into fields of produce and a simple junction in a dirt trail into a haven which saw dozens of new faces per day. As such, she had hoped that she wouldn’t stand out as much but as she pored over the large notice board in the town square, she felt many eyes on her. Not only were her feathers a striking color, but the traditional purple garb she wore drew focus as well.


The attention made her skin prickle. With a ruffling of her plumage, she settled herself.


“Oh dear.” She brought a feathered wingtip to the sharp point at the end of her beak. Her wings ended in four digits, each bent save for the thumb as she stroked her face. “There doesn’t seem to be anything here at all!” Her voice was tinged with disappointment.


Keireer fancied herself an adventurer and often took odd jobs and errands to make ends meet.The greatest warriors of her tribe might have made good adventurers, and it wasn’t uncommon for some of them to find work if they happened to settle near established hubs. That’s what had inspired her to take up this line of work, but she quickly found her skills lacking for most of the high-paying quests. She was neither strong nor particularly agile. When it came to magic, she found the discipline endlessly fascinating but even the simplest rituals ended in disaster whenever she tried to invoke them. As a result, Keireer usually made do taking low-level jobs. Errands and deliveries. The kind of work that kept her fed and offered enough coin to facilitate her travels.
It wasn’t glamorous, but it suited her wandering spirit.


Today she seemed out of luck. There were some requests for help but they were clearly above her grade. She sometimes tried her hand at more difficult assignments, joining up with others to make the task easier. She tried her best to offer support, even if she wasn’t the best at fighting. She did often get a bit ahead of her abilities, but Keireer valued the opportunity to work as a team.


Her stomach growled. It was as though it admonished her indecisiveness.


“There, there,” she said to herself as she clasped a hand over her stomach. She turned on the spot, talons clicking against the cobblestones as she made her way down the street and away from the town square. “Perhaps I’ll get myself some lunch, that’s what I’ll do.” 


She dug into her pouch, emptying a handful of different oddly-shaped coins so she could tally her funds. They clinked together, their various shapes and compositions a testament to her far travels.


“Perhaps nothing too fancy…” she mused, voice softening as she eyed the modest amount.


As though in protest, her stomach growled once more.






****




Keireer sat alone in a dark corner and munched on one of the flatbread wafers she had bought. They were bland, mostly tasteless, but had a satisfying crunch. Alone, they didn’t make for a very satisfying meal, but used as a vehicle to soak up the broth from the soup she had bought, the wafers were enough to sate her hunger.


She sat in the corner of the inn. It was the type of place that didn’t make much effort to appear accommodating. Most travelers wouldn’t spend the night here. This village was a hub, with most only stopping long enough for a quick rest before continuing through to the city a few hours away, where better room and board could be found. What it did have—what Keireer lacked-–-was information.


Another wafer snapped between her beak.


Keireer glanced around the room. There was almost no light, the usual atmosphere for a place like this. The lamps were deliberately kept at a low wick so that they would only emit a dim glow. This was how many might have preferred it, so that only a cloak, pulled tightly around the face and shoulders, would be enough to disguise one’s presence. For Keireer’s large eyes, however, the room might as well have been brightly lit.


The patrons were a rowdy bunch. They discussed their matters openly, feeling that the accumulated noise would make it impossible for eavesdroppers to learn anything of note. As such, this sort of place was good for picking up information. If one were able to discern fact from rumor, at the very least.


She finished her soup and stood up. Large as she was, maneuvering through to return the bowl to the innkeeper’s counter didn’t come without some inconvenience. Keireer must have muttered half a dozen apologies that went ignored until, finally, she came face-to-face with the silver-maned wolf.


“E-excuse me,” she said, trying to get his attention.


The innkeeper seemed to ignore her. Held in his hands was a large glass that a patron had just slid to him. Instead of washing it, he simply wiped the inside with a cloth he kept hanging from a sash around his waist. Keireer wasn’t sure, judging by the state of it, whether wiping the glass made it more sanitary. She spoke up again, repeating her words in a clearer voice.


“Excuse me!” she squawked. The innkeeper turned to her. Only then did she notice a large scar covering his eye. She had been standing in his blind spot.


He flashed a wide grin, revealing a smile where several teeth had been replaced by metal dentures—exactly the kind of innkeeper Keireer needed. “Ay, lass,” he spoke with a half-growl, “back for another bowl of the day’s special, have ya?” He placed the glass upon a rack and gave her his full attention. “I tell you, that pot of broth has been bubbling since I was a boy. Never been emptied, only revitalized. Soup’s a legend around these parts—”


“Actually,” Keireer said—she hated to interrupt him, “I was wondering—”


As she spoke, a larger man slammed his fist upon the counter. Without a word, the innkeeper poured a fresh drink and slid it across into the waiting grip. “You were saying? Wondering something?”


“I was wondering if you had any work?” she said. She brought herself to her full height, trying to strike an imposing figure. “You know, an-any jobs that need doing?”


His one good eye narrowed. “We already have a barmaid,” he growled. “But I suppose I could find something for you to do if you need a bit of coin.”


“No-no,” she stammered. “Any contracts. I’m an…an adventurer, you see…”


“Ah,” his eye narrowed further until it was just a slit. Keireer could barely see the yellow of his pupil. “Didn’t take you for an adventurer,” he said finally, “usually your folk get work off the noticeboard.”

“Well, you see—” 


She huffed. She was trying her best to appear confident but every word out of the wolf’s mouth left her feeling flustered.  


“Go on…”


“You see,” she continued after clearing her throat, “usually I work as a group but—” yeah, this would work, she thought of an excuse-–“but my party is a bit split up at the moment. There’s no solo jobs up for grabs. Must be because of how busy this place is.”


“Hmm.” The wolf thought to himself for a moment. “I suppose that makes sense, yeah.” For a moment, it seemed as though he wasn’t keen on continuing the conversation, but then he spoke again. “Now that I think about it, a couple of farmhands came through here the other day. They said they had a bit of a vermin problem.”


“Vermin?” One of Keireer’s eyebrows perked up.


“Kobolds,” he said. “Nasty buggers. Troublesome, but not too much trouble unless they’re in large groups. Seemed like they’d been causing mischief around the farms near the border of the forest.” He paused. “About…two hours from here on the road going south. Normally it wouldn’t have been a big deal, but without the town official around to sanction an extermination…”


Keireer had been around long enough to get what the innkeeper was hinting at. “Thanks,” she said. She took a coin out of her purse and slid it to him over the counter. It was the last of her silver pieces. 


The wolf plucked it from the wooden surface and deftly rolled it over his knuckles to test the weight. He then looked her over. “Well, before you go…”




****




Keireer skipped along the South Road. She had left the inn an hour or so ago and was making good time along the dusty road. There had been a lack of rain recently, and Keireer could see where the grass had begun to die out. It probably not only affected the farmers, but would explain why the Kobolds were being aggressive as well.


She reached into her pouch and retrieved two items. The first was a makeshift map the wolf at the inn had given her. It was simple, as the homestead she was heading to was a straight shot along the road. He had drawn a few landmarks, however, that would let Keireer know if she had gone too far. Even with his crude skills, she recognized the general layout of the land as well as a windmill planted on the left side of the road, opposite the forest, which kept to its boundaries not too far to her right. The other was a pack of jerky, which he had given her just because he thought she was cute.


She still blushed, remembering his words. But Keireer couldn’t let herself be distracted by the flirtations of a rugged older wolf, no matter how sexy he was. A piece of dried meat was clipped off between her beak, and she considered what she had gotten herself into as she chewed.


Kobolds weren’t generally considered a dangerous foe. As such, they weren’t a high priority for guild activities or the attention of any seasoned hero, either. If Keireer was honest with herself, they were a task for fledgling adventurers to deal with. She didn’t see it that way, however. To Keireer, these nuisances were often left unattended and caused problems for civilians who couldn’t otherwise protect themselves.


She continued down the road, doubling her pace and moving swiftly.


The long arms of the windmill, which the map indicated appeared over the hill furthest from her. Keireer thought to herself that the homestead should be coming into view, just as she got over this hump in the road. No sooner than it had crossed her mind, she heard a yell—not of the farmers but the high-pitched gibberish that she instantly recognized as Yipyak, Kobold tongue.


She broke into a sprint. The burst of speed carried her to the ridge, leaving a plume of dust curling in the air behind her. Not too far away, she saw that between this hill and the next was a flat plain. There, the homestead stood near the roadway, and at its gates were a trio of screaming Kobolds.


They wore tattered rags. Their shoulders were covered, but their nakedness was barely concealed otherwise. They waved weapons, but to Kobolds, weaponry was little more than sticks and basic clubs. Usually, they gave taller races a wide berth, knowing that in direct confrontation they stood little chance.Often, Kobolds resorted to trickery unless accompanied by one of the rare few gifted with magical skill. This trio seemed to be a set of juveniles, either making mischief or otherwise getting into trouble without the direction of the clan. She could see, however, that they had been attacking the wooden gate long enough to cause some damage.


“Alright, Keireer,” she told herself. “Time to get to work!”


She took a final chomp of the jerky and set herself to stand at her full height. Keireer was at least six feet tall when she stood upright. This was about average for women of her tribe, and she was about three times the height of the average Kobold. While they could be aggressive when emboldened by numbers, she knew that Kobolds were both insecure about their own stature and intimidated by taller creatures. By striking an imposing figure, she might be able to scare them off completely.


“You there!” she squawked. “I demand you cease… uh… uh… at once!”


Her voice barely carried the full distance. The Kobolds’ jabbering meant they probably didn’t hear her at all, especially since they had begun to bash their sticks against the gateway. They hadn’t even so much as turned their dog-like heads in her direction.


So much for intimidating them.


“Okay,” she said to herself once again. “Okay, let’s think of something else!”


Keireer wasn’t deterred, but she knew the farmers needed her help. She thought for a moment, and then an idea struck her. She placed both of her wingtips on the ground. Her fingers spread wide as she began to chant in a tongue that was unknown even to herself. She didn’t know exactly what the words meant, but it didn’t matter as long as she kept the intent of the spell clear in her mind’s eye.


She finished her incantation with a rousing recitation of the spell. She had practiced this particular spell for weeks—long nights spent studying. She had perfected her pronunciation. She had meditated, focusing on proper visualization of the earth shifting and forming a boulder into a missile directed at her intended target: the trio of Kobolds.


Earth Missile was a simple, level-one spell, little more than a cantrip. As Keireer finalized the flow of magic and sent it through her fingertips, she realized that she was no longer touching the ground.


“Wha—?”


She made a silly sound as she realized that she was upside down, soaring through the air herself as she tumbled toward the wooden gate.


“Ah! Ah! Ahhh!” 


She spread her wings wide and buffeted the air. It was awkward, but she managed to orient herself properly. She would have been able to glide to the ground, but the magic had directed her crashing forward with significant momentum. As a result, Keireer tumbled onto the ground, rolling three times across the dirt toward the Kobolds who all sprang out of the way as she collided with the gate. 


Another failed spell. She’d sigh in defeat if the fall hadn’t knocked the wind out of her.


Curious, the Kobold who seemed to be the leader of the three raised his stick and—bonk!— brought the club-like tip down directly onto Keireer’s forehead. “Ouch!” she cried. “Jeez!” The Kobolds’ didn’t pay her any mind, however. All three had already erupted into cheers as they celebrated their victory. 


Keireer stumbled to her feet. Her wingtips clutched the point where the Kobold had struck her. She could already feel a bump forming under her plumage and struggled to restrict the tears forming at the corners of her eyes.


The Kobold nearest to her, with its back turned, waved its weapon joyously. Keireer, suddenly incensed, snatched the staff and wrenched it from the creature’s feeble fingers. What ensued was a great battle—except not really. Keireer was absolutely hopeless when it came to magic and almost equally ineffective when it came to martial skill. She had been trained, of course, like all children in her tribe, but it had become quite clear to her instructors that those lessons were never going to stick.


Regardless, she swung the staff, cracking the same Kobold she had robbed on the top of its skull, directly between where its long, droopy ears sprouted. It howled in pain as the remaining two lunged at her.


If Keireer had been made to fight opponents her own size, she would have certainly lost. If she displayed any real skill, the Kobolds would have instantly fled. The situation as it happened to be, however, meant that both sides simply swung wildly, with Keireer collecting a large number of bruises while she battered the Kobolds fiercely. Her wide swings often missed, but soon she had covered the dog-like creatures in enough lumps that they relented, sprinting away on their cooked legs and stopping just long enough to curse at her in Yipyak before they disappeared towards the forest.        


Keireer’s shoulders slumped. As she watched the Kobolds flee, the tip of the staff she held snapped, and the club-shaped striking end fell into the dirt. Soon after, Keireer’s bottom did the same as she collapsed in exhaustion.


“Ah!” she breathed heavily. “That was scary!”


Not a moment later, the wooden gate clattered as the locks were unlatched. It was drawn inward and several members of the homestead came out to greet her.


The farmers were strong but simple folk. As Keireer observed the group—six of them in total—she was more than certain that they would have been able to take care of the Kobolds had they banded together. Still, she didn’t fault non-adventurers for preferring not to tackle monsters. Even Kobolds could be dangerous when one was inexperienced.


“Thanks,” the leader of the group said. He was a large man. His strong build and bronzed skin gave him the stout look of a much younger man. “Those damn bastards have been a thorn in our side for weeks.”


Keireer paused. Having stood up to greet them, she was in the middle of brushing the dirt from her backside, swatting at her shorts with her wingtips and causing tufts of dust to rise around their feet. “Kobolds don’t usually act that aggressively,” she said. “It’s been a long time since they’ve formed a war party.”


“They usually don’t,” the farmer laughed. Behind him was a woman about his age as well as two younger women she assumed to be his daughters. Alongside the family were a pair of workers, one an Oxenfolk and the other a Stallionkind. “But whenever the weather’s been particularly uncompromising, they cause trouble. All kinds of creatures live in the forests around these parts;usually they leave us well enough alone. I take it you were sent from the guild?”


Keireer half-nodded, then shook her head quickly. “No,” she said, “the guild didn’t put up a notice. There was no official sanction put out for this job. Anything that would require an adventurer to potentially kill one of the monsterkind needs to be sanctioned…as long as they have any sort of intelligence. But I heard you all needed help from the innkeeper, so that’s why I came this way. I’m just glad I arrived before they could do any more damage.”


She kept her desperate need for funds to herself.


The farmer nodded. “So this is sort of a private job, huh?” He scratched his greying beard. “I did send the boys to ask for a sanction, ye, but if one wasn’t granted, then I can’t give you the reward. Not that I don’t want to or you don’t deserve it. It’s just that I can’t risk getting in trouble paying out for unsanctioned work. Running this place is tough enough without having the magistrate demanding fines or breathing down me neck for breaking guild rules.”


Keireer’s shoulders slumped. Doing unsanctioned or ‘private’ work certainly was against guild rules, but that didn’t stop most adventurers from doing it. The rules meant that both the contractor and those who took the job had legal protections regarding any disputes. Unsanctioned work often turned to exploitation one way or the other. She couldn’t force the farmer to pay up, not like some other adventurers might have done in this situation.


“That’s,” she hesitated, “okay.”


“But,” he said quickly, “that only applies to coin! I’m glad to provide anything we can to help your journey!”


With that, Keireer’s expression changed. Together, she and the homesteaders ventured past the gate to discuss compensation.






****






Keireer spent some time recuperating at the homestead. She found the farmers to be jolly folk— so much so that one wouldn’t think they’d just been besieged by monsters. She spent the night getting some rest and even got some more food for her troubles. The farmer’s daughters washed her clothes and repaired the damage caused by the Kobolds’ weapons. That night, she slept in the barn with the farmhands. She purposefully avoided getting too frisky with the pair, but enjoyed the attention and perhaps flirted a bit too much. The next day, as she left, she cut across the road and headed not towards the city but into the great Green Forest itself.


While the farmer couldn’t give her coin, what he did give Keireer was valuable in its own right.


Rumors were practically a second language to adventurers. While most folks would dismiss urban legends or tall tales, seasoned adventurers knew to dispel fiction and sift through local stories for nuggets of truth. If there was a particularly alluring piece of information, it was often kept a closely-guarded secret held by the network of information brokers. Often, it cost as much as a C-rank quest’s reward—almost fifty gold pieces—to get a rumormonger to part with their secrets. Dealing with Kobolds, even three of them at a time, would hardly count as a E-rank quest. The reward would be some silver, so that the farmer could provide Keireer with a rumor as a reward meant that she had gained quite a bit, despite not being able to be paid directly.


He told her that within the jungle, not even half a day’s trek away, was an old temple built by the Slimes. Normally, it was inaccessible, but when there was a lack of rain, the waterfall that blocked its entrance became passable. As long as one was willing to get wet, they could enter the hidden passage and continue into the complex within.


And so Keireer set out. Her taloned feet made traversing the forest easy. Her claws gripped the earth and roots, allowing her to move without slipping. By keeping her wings tight and close, her flattened plumage protected her from lashing shrubbery. Once she got deeper into the forest and the thick canopy obscured overhead, she grew a bit nervous. While Keireer couldn’t fly as effectively as one might think, her people naturally preferred to be outdoors and under the wide-        open skies. A forest this thick might as well have been a cave.


She eventually came to the river the farmer had told her about. After following it upstream for half a mile or so, Keireer found a large pool of crystal-clear water being fed by a tall waterfall. Even with the reduced water flow, the sound of the wall of water drowned out everything else. 


Keireer sank into a low crouch, then leaped toward the base of the waterfall. Her wings spread wide, and she steadied herself. The air currents near the waterfall were disturbed, making it difficult to guide herself, but she landed safely upon the rocks regardless. She looked left, then right. To either side of the waterfall was a sheer cliff—a wall of rock that extended upward even taller than the trees. From this position, she could just barely make out the early afternoon sunlight. 


Taking a breath, Keireer braced herself and pushed through the torrent. The weight of the water was intense, nearly causing her to instantly buckle to her knees. She soldiered on, not letting herself be pushed away or downwards until she fell through to the other side. It was only a moment of exertion, but she instantly felt her muscles grow sore from having to fight the falling water.


Behind the waterfall was a narrow cave, almost too narrow for Keireer to navigate. She might have complained, but this was a passageway built by the Slimes. Keireer was grateful there was any space at all, and she didn’t currently find herself pushed against a mere crack in the rock with a wall of water at her back.


She reached for her belt and retrieved a pouch. Within it was a small, polished stone that Keireer had purchased for just this sort of occasion. With a word, the lightstone began to glow, and illuminated the immediate area so that she was able to see. She reached forward with her wing and stretched wide, searching with her fingers against the darkness. Even with the lightstone, she could barely see more than a few feet ahead.


Slowly, she inched into the passageway.


Slimes, Keireer thought to herself, were a curious bunch. They were not quite monsters, nor were they considered people-folk. That was mostly because nobody ever figured out how to communicate with them. They were rare to see; Keireer herself had never met one, nor did she know how she would handle the situation if she did. In fact, some went so far as to say that Slimes were no longer around, as they had very little interaction with the outside world.


Not only could they not communicate, but Slimes were also not known to trade. The world at large simply did not have goods they found important. Slimes also didn’t eat—allegedly—though some myths warned against them, claiming that Slimes would smother and dissolve adventurers who trespassed into their lands. That made it all the more curious why, if there were Slime ruins at the end of this passage, they made the entrance large enough for outsiders to traverse.


As the thought crossed her mind, Keireer spotted the dim glow of light in the distance. She doubled her pace, moving quickly toward it while taking care to use her talons to grip the stony surface beneath her feet with each step.


The light was like a boundary, allowing Keireer to step into a wide area free from the forest’s canopy. In the darkness of the tunnel, it was difficult to judge how much distance she had covered since breaching the waterfall. Whoever had created this place—and however they might have done it—clearly intended to keep it a secret. 


The stony walls reached out from where Keireer stood. Like a pair of great arms, they circled the area and protected the secrets within. The rim of the walls was covered in trees, which provided further camouflage if any explorers were to be searching within the forest. On the far side, as she had been told by the farmer, was a stony temple. Not just any temple but, according to legend, one blessed by the Slime Goddess, herself.


Whether such goddess existed, Keireer wasn’t sure. Little was known about the religion of Slimes. Once more, this was a consequence of them being impossible to communicate with. What the farmer told her, however, was that this temple had long ago been explored by adventurers who had become something close to local legends. They had claimed that anyone who could explore it, and best the trials within, would receive a boon from the Slime Goddess. That blessing, perhaps, was attributed to the status they would go on to attain. 


Keireer set herself on the path to the temple. She could barely keep herself from breaking into an excited pace, but she remained careful. She was alone. Any slip or fall could leave her stranded and, without help, such a situation would mean she wouldn’t be able to make the return trip. She was no legendary adventurer, after all, but she did know a thing or two about ancient ruins. She had a knack for exploring them and, despite her shortcomings in other disciplines, was often the reason that parties she had joined made it through dungeons mostly unscathed.


It only took a few minutes for her to traverse the path. Where others might have needed to inch along ledges or carefully cross gaps, Keireer’s wings allowed her to bypass most obstacles. As she approached the temple, she couldn’t help but marvel at its construction. The entire structure seemed to exist as one solid piece—no blocks stacked on top of each other. The columns and pillars were one with the weights they supported. 


She took out her notebook and began to scribble within it. Even if she couldn’t defeat the trial, assuming there was one, she’d be able to sell records of her observations to those who were interested in studying these matters.


Slowly, she moved deeper within the temple. While the outside was the same color as the rocky outcrop it was built into, the inside was different. Vibrant murals were painted across the walls. While clearly ancient, they remained full of color that rivaled the intensity of Keireer’s plumage. She hurried closer, excitedly studying the markings. It took some time to understand what they depicted, as the Slimes did not seem to order them with any reasonable convention. Not any that would be intuitive to someone who might have assumed the images were laid out in a standard orientation.


Even with Keireer’s familiarity with the design of ancient temples, the meaning of the murals wasn’t entirely clear. She could tell that the place where she stood marked the entrance to a larger complex, built not only into a hollowed-out hill but also extending downward into the earth itself.


The Slimes appeared to have constructed it—images showed them toiling over time—and as Keireer traced the depiction of their efforts, she noticed symbols that seemed to represent an entity which either guided the Slimes directly or inspired their efforts. By following the flow of this entity’s appearances, the story of the temple’s creation unfolded before her. The narrative moved first from right to left, then upward and around the dome-like structure of the room until it reached its conclusion. Through this process, it depicted not only the completion of the Slimes’ efforts in constructing the temple but also their broader history in the region.


That was the most reasonable meaning that Keireer could extract from the Mural. She could see that many Slimes were present when the temple’s construction began, but by the end, their numbers had dwindled to just a few, and finally to one. This last figure, she assumed, was the Slime Goddess. Beneath the depiction of the Slime Goddess was a symbol Keireer had yet to take notice of anywhere else in the artwork.. Though she immediately interpreted it as a representation of femininity—perhaps influenced by her assumption of the goddess’s presence—she jotted down another quick scribble in her notes, it could have meant something else entirely.


“It seems I need a key,” she murmured to herself. “Keys usually mean treasure, but…”


She glanced around. Typically, temples were adorned with decorations. Even long-abandoned structures would bear remnants of a culture’s opulence—whether ornamental jars or metal adornments—though time might have left them ruined and worthless, at least when it came to commercial value. Here, however, there was nothing. It seemed no effort had been made to embellish the temple beyond the series of murals which, while beautiful, weren’t something Keireer could carry away with her.


She finished the thought which she had spoken aloud: “…what kind of treasure might the Slimes have gathered?”


Keireer surveyed her surroundings. Several passageways branched off from the room, and if her interpretation of the murals was correct, one would lead deeper into the complex. With no clear indication of the right path, she had little choice but to guess. Tucking her notebook away to keep it safe, she set out to explore.






****




It didn’t take long after Keireer started down the closest passageway for her to realize why the Slimes had built the temple—and the path leading to it—as they did. If the trial was real, it wasn’t designed for Slimes. The temple was hidden, certainly, but that served merely as a barrier to entry, not an attempt to keep outsiders from penetrating its depths.


She held her lightstone aloft and ventured deeper. Once she recognized that the obstacles in her path were not mere inconveniences but deliberate constructions meant to deter her, she took them as a personal challenge. This was where Keireer thrived—pushing deeper as she navigated the temple. She noticed the floor sloped downward, each step carrying her further into the earth. Based on her understanding of the temple’s layout, this suggested she had chosen the right path. That is, until a few more steps brought her to a dead end.


Keireer paused to think once more. The sheer wall blocking her path seemed unassuming. Undecorated, it simply marked the end of the passage. But why would the Slimes carve such a deep path only to have it lead nowhere?


Keireer ran her wingtips along the unassuming wall, tracing its smooth, cold surface for any hint of purpose. Her lightstone cast faint shadows that danced across the stone, highlighting a subtle indentation near the base—a groove so slight it might have been mistaken for a natural flaw.


The kind of flaw that was completely inconsistent with Slime architecture.


She pressed against it, feeling a faint click, and with a low rumble, the sheer wall shuddered and began to retract into the earth. Dust billowed upward as the passage opened, revealing a vast chamber beyond. Her pulse quickened; this was no mere dead end after all.


Stepping cautiously over the threshold, Keireer was glad to see that she no longer needed her lightstone. This part of the temple had no ceiling and allowed sunlight to flow in from above. A cavernous expanse that dwarfed the passage she’d left behind, the chamber stretched wide and deep, and at its heart stood an array of towering pillars. 


The pillars formed a loose maze, their spacing irregular yet deliberate, guiding her forward while obscuring what lay beyond. As she wove between them, her talons scraped against the stone floor, the sound echoing faintly in the vastness. The shadows between the pillars seemed to haunt Keirer as she passed, causing her to be extra wary of losing her orientation.


Keireer paused. Ahead of her, she detected movement—no mere trick of the light. She held her breath as someone—or something—emerged from behind a pillar not far from where she stood.
The creature was a foot or so shorter than Keireer. “A Slime!” she whispered to herself excitedly, then quickly covered her beak, realizing it might have been rude to exclaim as such.


The Slime’s physiology was unlike anything she had encountered before. Its… body, if she could call it that, shimmered in a purple hue, reminiscent of the sour candies sold at the market on Salesday. While its lower half remained an undefined mass of flowing, jelly-like matter, the torso it supported possessed a discernible shape. It was unmistakably feminine. Large features on its chest resembled breasts, complete with darkened patches where areolae might be. Its shoulders suggested a slender yet athletic woman, though the arms grew larger the farther they extended from its core. It had hands, but the number of fingers seemed to shift inconsistently, even from one moment to the next.


The strangest feature of all was the Slime’s head. It was shaped like that of a dog—no, Keireer corrected herself, not a dog but a Kobold. Yet its features were less animalistic. While Kobolds were fierce, their visages marked by a savage intensity, the Slime appeared to have sculpted its face with deliberate femininity. Even the shape of its eyes resembled a noblewoman’s, framed as if by painted mascara, drawing attention to the glow of its dark-red pupils.


Those pupils were now fixed directly on Keireer.


“Gloop! Gloop-gloop?” The Slime’s words escaped from the front of its face, accompanied by several large, purple bubbles. Its mouth seemed to appear and vanish as needed, existing only in the moment of speech.


Keireer tilted her head, uncertain how to respond. “Gl-gloop?”


The Slime’s eyes widened. “Gloop-gloop!” it exclaimed. Its form contracted, shrinking slightly, then stretched toward her, gliding along the floor without leaving a trail. Keireer resisted the urge to step back as the Slime closed the distance between them. It drew near, uttering its strange language as it approached. “Gloop? Gloop-gloop gloop. Gloop. Gloop-gloop?”


As it spoke, it inspected Keireer closely. It circled behind her, then elongated itself as if trying to peer at the top of her head. Keireer realized—too late—that while she’d been focused on its face, several appendages had extended toward her, their tips now brushing her legs and wings.


She recoiled instantly, and the Slime tilted its head as if puzzled. “Uhhh…” Keireer muttered, hesitating. “Gloop-gloop?” she offered again.


Once again, the Slime bounced excitedly. “Gloop!” it chirped. Keireer wasn’t sure how—or even if—the Slime understood her; it simply withdrew from her and moved back towards where it came from. Pausing for a moment, its face emerged at the back of its head. “Gloop-gloop!”


Slowly, Keireer began to follow. Satisfied, the Slime’s face vanished once more, and it glided onward, leading her to the far side of the chamber. There, the Slime—whom Keireer resolved to call ‘Gloop’—revealed what it seemed to assume she wanted. 


A key, nestled atop a pedestal, appeared free for the taking.


She stepped toward it, only to find her path barred by Gloop’s outstretched appendages. It shook its head at her, then plucked the key from its perch with one of its tentacles and…


Plunk!


It engulfed the key whole—or rather, not quite swallowed it. The key sank into Gloop’s face-hole and settled within its torso, clearly visible between its breasts.


Gloop quivered before Keireer. “Gloop-gloop!” it chirped, and with a sudden shudder, it split apart—its purple mass dividing into five identical yet smaller copies of itself. Each miniature Gloop bounced gleefully, their dark-red pupils glinting as they scattered among the pillars. Keireer’s eyes darted between them, catching the faint gleam of the key nestled within the torso of one, its shape barely discernible at a distance. She straightened, her beak twitching with realization: the trial wasn’t about reaching the key but capturing the Gloop who held it.


She lunged toward the nearest Gloop to scurry past, her wingtips outstretched, only for it to squeal—“Gloop!”—and dart sideways, slipping between two pillars with infuriating ease. The others giggled in unison, a chorus of “Gloop-gloop!” echoing through the chamber as they bobbed and weaved around her. Keireer spun, targeting another, her wings flaring to block its path, but it flattened itself against the floor and slithered beneath her, rejoining its siblings in their gleeful dance. Her frustration mounted. These creatures seemed to delight in her every misstep, their fluid forms mocking her attempts to pin them down.


More than once, she thought she’d succeeded. Her wings closed around one Gloop, its jelly-like body squirming in her grip—only for it to ooze through her fingers, leaving her clutching nothing but air. She seized another, pinning it against a pillar, her heart leaping as she searched its torso, but no key glimmered within. Each capture dissolved into the same maddening pattern: the Gloops slipped free, reforming beyond her reach, and Keireer lost track of which held the prize. Their identical shapes blurred together, a maddening swirl of purple mischief that left her panting and empty-handed.


The chamber rang with their taunting “Gloop-gloop!”


She narrowed her eyes, watching their patterns—the way they darted and paused, the subtle differences in their bounces. One lingered near a pillar, its movements slightly slower, its torso faintly distended. The key, she realized, weighed it down. She stalked forward, feinting left to herd them, then pivoted sharply, cutting off its escape. The others scattered, but she kept her focus on this one, her wings snapping out to block its retreat. It shrank back, its “Gloop?” tinged with uncertainty, and Keireer’s beak curved into a smile—she had it now.


Cornered against the pillar, the key-bearing Gloop quivered, its appendages flailing wildly. The key gleamed within its torso, tantalizingly close, and the other Gloops fell silent, their eyes wide as they watched from a distance. “Gloop-gloop,” it muttered, almost plaintively, but Keireer held firm, her frustration hardening into resolve. This time, she wouldn’t let it escape—her prize, and the trial’s end, were finally within her grasp. Then…


“Oh,” Keireer muttered. “Oh, dear!”


A puff of green smoke erupted around her, blinding her for a moment. Not her accursed luck again—literally!
 
She coughed and flapped her wings to dispel the smoke billowing around her, obscuring her sight. As the gusts cleared the air, Keireer found herself gazing up into the dark-red eyes of not just one Gloop, but all five, who peered down at her with a blend of confusion and delight. She had shrunk to a mere six inches or so in height—and it wasn’t the first time this had happened!


“Ooooh jeez,” she groaned as the Gloops burst into a cheery chorus. The one she’d most recently cornered, in particular, kept its red eyes fixed on her.


Keireer attempted to hide within her garments, which nestled around her body as they never shrank alongside her. She would have really preferred that as she now stood completely exposed, breasts and genitalia bare. The crumpled clothing made for poor defenses as the Gloops shimmered once more and rejoined to now tower with five times the intimidating height.


Excitedly, Gloop reached into the fabric and plucked Keireer from her hiding place. Now that she was far smaller, the Slime seemed eager to inspect her, as it had intended earlier before being rejected.


“Let me—” she stammered, “let me down! Gloop! GLOOP!”


Keireer’s protests proved futile. She squirmed and thrashed, but one of Gloop’s tentacles gripped her ankle tightly. She tugged hard, realizing the Slime could transform its body into what amounted to a glue trap just as effortlessly as it could dissolve itself to slip away. With some effort, she finally managed to escape and used her wings to glide towards the floor. She needed to escape, and quickly, at least until the effects of the curse abated and she returned to her normal size.


THWACK!


One of Gloop’s tentacles wrapped around Keireer’s shoulders. It squeezed her, like a child playing with a doll, and she chirped once more. “Let! Me! Go!”

Gloop responded, “Gloop! Gloop! Gloop!”


Keireer was not amused.


Their mischief continued at Keireer’s expense. Several times, Gloop would allow her to escape then either lazily or with some intent, it chased Keireer around the room until she eventually caught again. It seemed to enjoy the reversed circumstances, cornering Keireer before letting her escape. Each time she was caught, Gloop would squeeze tighter and become more curious about Keireer’s body as it would take much more interest in inspecting her. After being captured this final time, Keireer breathed heavily as though exhausted.


She sighed, lifted into the air and held by the tips of her wings as Gloop’s tentacles wrapped around her chest and over her shoulders. Keireer’s modest bust—shrunk down to size—bulged from between the tentacles. She moaned in disapproval as Gloop squeezed her breasts but was too tired to complain.


Keireer dangled limply in Gloop’s grasp, her small form suspended by the tentacles coiled around her wings and chest. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, exhaustion sapping her strength, when suddenly Gloop’s dark-red eyes gleamed with a new mischief. “Gloop-gloop!” it chirped, and one of its appendages shifted, the tip brushing lightly against the soft plumage covering her breasts. She twitched involuntarily, a faint squeak escaping her beak. 
Gloop tilted its head, intrigued, and repeated the motion—now more deliberate in its strokes.


She squirmed, her fatigue momentarily forgotten as the sensation intensified. “No—stop!” she stammered, her voice cracking into a high-pitched moan. But Gloop, undeterred, extended another tentacle, its tip wriggling against the sensitive fork between Keireer’s legs.


Groans of pleasure erupted from her—unwilling, breathless sighs and moans that shook her tiny frame. The Slime’s curiosity only grew, its appendages darting faster now, exploring every source of pleasure they could find: her breasts and nipples; her clitoris and vulva; the oozing hole which, against her wishes, drooled as she became increasingly aroused; as well as her tight and, until this moment, unmolested anus. Keireer thrashed helplessly, caught between exasperation and the overwhelming urge to climax.


Gloop’s glee echoed hers, its “Gloop! Gloop-gloop!” ringing through the chamber as it refined its assault. One tentacle slithered inside her, stimulating the sensitive coils of flesh within Keireer’s cunt, while another teased the opening of her tight, virgin asshole. Her moans filled the air, her body twisting in vain against the sticky grip. The Slime seemed fascinated by her reactions, its fluid form jiggling with delight as it discovered how each touch elicited a fresh burst of sound. Keireer’s wings flapped feebly, her strength sapped by the relentless molestation, leaving her a quivering, breathless mess.


The onslaught grew merciless. Gloop’s tentacles wove both around and inside her, some brushing lightly to tease, others pressing just enough to stretch Keireer’s womanhood and make her feel exactly what the pair of farmhands had offered her the night before. 


Her beak opened wide, gasps mingling with cries of pleasure as she pleaded, “No more! Please! Gloop!”


Gloop paused for a moment, its head tilting as if considering her plea, only to resume with renewed vigor. It drew Keireer against its chest and tears welled in her eyes, not from pain but from the sheer intensity, her small body shuddering under the Slime’s playful torment.


Finally, as Keireer’s moaning dwindled to hoarse, ragged breaths, Gloop slowed its assault. Its tentacles lingered, brushing gently now, as if testing her limits one last time. “Gloop?” it murmured, its tone almost questioning, its red eyes fixed on her flushed, trembling form. Keireer hung there, utterly spent, her feathers ruffled and her chest heaving. 


Gloop’s form then quivered with a sudden, purposeful ripple. “Gloop-gloop!” it chirped, and before she could react, its tentacles tightened around her, pulling her closer.


The surface of Gloop’s body was much more firm than one might expect from observation alone. Unfortunately, Keireer had become intimately aware of the texture as she had been molested. Now its purple mass parted and enveloped her—drawing her small body against the surface tension until she began to sink into Gloop’s core.
 
As Keireer submerged within Gloop’s body, she gasped, slime entering her mouth and throat as it flooded her lungs.


Keireer floated within Gloop’s translucent torso, her tiny form suspended in its depths and the key still visible nearby like a taunting prize. The Slime’s essence invaded her lungs with each inhale, a strange, slick pressure that kept her alive yet left her disoriented. She could see the chamber through Gloop’s surface, distorted as if underwater, but the air she needed came not from outside—it flowed from the Slime’s outer layer, filtered through its mass, and into her slime-coated lungs. Her chest rose and fell, and though she didn’t choke, a faint tremor of panic lingered. She was no longer merely Gloop’s captive but part of it, sustained by its bizarre, living embrace.


Gloop’s curiosity flared anew, its form vibrating around Keireer as it resumed its playful torment. Held within, a coil of slime snaked its way into Keireer’s mouth. Gloop’s ability to selectively harden meant that despite drowning in slime—quite literally—she could feel this tentacle invade her throat and plunge repeatedly into her neck.


Externally, its slime crushed her wings and sides, doubling the assault. Keireer twitched, her body tensing, but the slime filling her mouth muffled any moans—her attempts to groan in pleasure emerged as small bubbles which drifted away from her beak after escaping the corners of her mouth. Exhaustion plagued her, earlier orgasms having sapped her strength, and now she could only squirm feebly against the overwhelming sensations.


The Slime, undeterred by her silence, pressed its exploration further. A thick wave of its essence surged into her stomach, filling it with a cool, squirming mass that caused Keireer’s belly to bulge. Her midsection distended, the sensation overwhelming, yet her cries remained stifled—reduced to a strained gurgle. Gloop’s outer tentacles danced along her slit and between her buttocks, their greedy touches relentless, and Keireer’s eyes squeezed shut, her beak parting in a soundless plea as her stamina waned.


“Gloop! Gloop-gloop!” it trilled, its delight undimmed as it probed deeper. The slime within her stomach roiled, sending shivers through her core, while another tendril snaked up her cunt and the last filled her ass, stretching her to the limit. Her body jerked, reflexes dulled by fatigue, and the absence of moaning only seemed to spur Gloop on—perhaps now curious as to why Keireer remained silent. 


Her limbs trembled, too heavy to resist, her energy drained by the ceaseless stimulation that now came from every angle, inside and out.


The torment grew frantic, a chaotic symphony of sensation. Gloop’s internal slime swirled faster, teasing her stomach walls, as well as the inside of Keireer’s cunt and asshole, while the slime served as a prison, keeping her still and robbing her of even the ability to wheeze.


Her head rolled on her shoulders, feathers plastered against her by the Slime’s embrace, and though her nerves screamed with the urge to climax, her body refused, sinking deeper into a haze of weariness as she endured the relentless triple-penetration.


Gloop seemed oblivious to her fading strength, its playful torment unending. A tendril coiled against the entrance of her womb, tickling Keireer’s cervix, while the one in her asshole grew longer, and thicker, and took all manners of strange shapes while snaking through her guts as though intent on meeting up with the slime in her stomach which continued to pulse rhythmically.


Keireer’s vision blurred, her small form quaking within Gloop’s translucent mass, and her silent struggles grew sluggish—each twitch weaker than the last. 


The Slime’s “Gloop-gloop!” echoed around her, a mocking cheer that underscored her mounting helplessness, her energy all but spent save for what it used to make her body contort in climax. Keireer experienced an unimaginable pleasure, mind completely blank as helplessness and overstimulation drove her almost insane with orgasmic bliss.


Finally, as Keireer’s movements dwindled to faint shivers, Gloop slowed its molestation, though its curiosity lingered. The internal slime settled, a gentle ripple against her stomach while the tendrils in her womanhood retracted. “Gloop?” it murmured, tilting its head as if puzzled by her stillness. Keireer hung there, utterly depleted, her lungs laboring with each breath, her body a limp silhouette within the Slime’s core. 


She could muster no protest, no resistance—only a faint, weary glare as Gloop bobbed contentedly, its game paused but its hold unshaken.


Any minute now, she told herself, the curse had to come to an end…