Crisis averted... hopefully.
A thin bead of cold sweat traced a line down my spine as I sat, wrists unbound yet surrounded by several heavily armed dwarven guards escorting me through the lower halls of Dwargon. Gobta trailed behind, silent as a grave—good.
Behind us, another squadron carried the unconscious forms of the adventurers. Illusion magic still cloaked their very-much-dead bodies, making it appear like they were simply passed out from shock or exhaustion.
"Please hold…" I muttered under my breath, praying my illusion would hold just long enough for us to get out of this mess. I'd refined it with Great Sage's help to simulate shallow breathing and twitching. Realistic enough for a quick glance, hopefully not enough to get dissected under scrutiny.
Soon, I found myself seated at a desk across from a grizzled officer who radiated authority—and suspicion.
"So, what happened?" he asked, voice low, scrutinizing me like I was a particularly puzzling chunk of magic ore.
"They were rude to my subordinate and me," I answered plainly. "Naturally, I attempted peaceful discourse."
"Peaceful? Then why'd they faint like spooked rabbits in a thunderstorm?"
"Illusion magic," I said, resting my nonexistent chin on my nonexistent hand in a display of utter nonchalance. "They must've panicked. Weak constitution, clearly. I assumed adventurers would have more… spine."
"You're tellin' me a talking slime cast illusion magic?" He frowned deeply. "You expect me to swallow that?"
"Of course not," I said with a theatrical sigh. "I'm not a slime. Merely a cursed man, transformed by a heinous spell woven by a demon of ancient power."
The guard blinked. "A… demon cursed you?"
"Yes. I was once a great wizard but was molded into this form as a cruel joke. But I am a man of perseverance." I placed one amorphous hand over my nonexistent heart. "I've even picked up potion-making to amuse myself in my solitude."
"Right…" The guard narrowed his eyes. "And which demon cursed you?"
"I'd rather not say. His name alone could draw his attention. You wouldn't want him arriving at your gates for something as trivial as idle gossip, would you?"
That did the trick. The dwarf's bravado faltered.
"Still… that might make you a liability. If that demon ever comes for you, he might come for us."
Ah, damn it. I laid it on too thick.
"Oh come now, that was fifty years ago!" I said quickly. "He's likely forgotten me. I've certainly made myself unremarkable enough since then."
We went back and forth like this for two hours. I gave just enough details to sound mysterious, just enough wit to sound clever, and just enough groveling to seem harmless.
I was just about ready to scream internally when—
SLAM!
The door burst open. A younger soldier rushed in, panting.
"Captain! An Armorsaurus appeared in the mining tunnels! Several miners injured—badly!"
Oho? Now there's a name I want on my dinner plate.
"What?! Did we stop it?!"
"Yes, sir! Suppression squad's on it. But our medical supply's dry—castle won't release theirs, shops are empty, and we've only got one novice healer."
The captain growled. "Then what the hell do you expect me to—"
"Ahem."
All eyes turned to me. I reached into my body, rummaging in the space pocket I called a stomach and retrieved six shining vials of deep-blue potion.
"I believe these might help."
The captain blinked. "What… what's this?"
"Healing potions," I said smoothly. "I may be cursed, but a man has to have hobbies. Alchemy's mine."
"You're serious?"
"Deadly." I flashed a disarming smile—which probably looked eerie coming from a floating slime with softly glowing runes embedded in his body. "I'll give them freely. No price, no debt. Just... consider it a gesture of goodwill."
With some hesitation, the captain snatched them up and left. Gobta let out a breath he'd clearly been holding in for hours.
"Is it over?" he asked timidly.
"No, Gobta. It never is," I said dryly.
For the next hour, we sat silently. Dwarves passed by occasionally, peeking at me like I was an oddity. Understandable, really. I was pulling off miracles here.
Eventually, I activated Shadow Sneak and cloaked myself in illusion again, slipping unseen from my cell. I made my way to the adventurers' cell block, where two guards chatted outside.
"They're not waking up?"
"Nope. One guy keeps screaming they're dead. I mean, they're breathing but it's... creepy."
Overkill on the illusion. Noted.
Once inside, I poured four healing potions on them. They wouldn't reverse death, but they'd erase any trace of trauma or injury. Next, I weaved a layered illusion across their bodies and clothes, masking the blood and bruises. To an untrained eye, they simply… died of shock.
Elegant. Efficient. Terrifying.
Back in my cell just in time, I resumed my seat as the bearded captain burst in, trailed by a half-dozen bandaged miners.
"Thank you, friend!" he bellowed. "Those potions… you saved lives today."
One by one, the miners thanked me. The last didn't say anything—but he bowed low, fists clenched. It was enough.
As the sun dipped below the mountains, casting long shadows across the stone corridors, the captain returned.
"We got word," he said grimly. "Four of the adventurers died. Seemed like their hearts just… gave out."
I widened my eyes, gasping. "That's… that's terrible! You don't think…"
"You didn't do anything, right?"
"Surely I can't be blamed for their cowardice," I said, voice soft and concerned.
The captain hesitated… then nodded. "I suppose not."
Great Sage. Probability this comes back to haunt us?
"Good."
Still, I spent the rest of the night convincing the captain I wasn't a threat, all while internally kicking myself.
Note to self: don't go overboard next time.
…Also maybe be less effective. Being too good at everything might be a liability.