4th Day of Needfest, 566 CY
The Lone Heath, Great Kingdom of Aerdy
"This gets old real fast,"Aslan grumbled, slogging his way through the bog. "I think either our map is off, or Yenom and Gastar miscalculated when they examined it."
"It may not be either of those, Aslan," said Caroline as she trudged alongside the paladin. "The Flanaess is huge, so the scale on that map is very, very big. The Lone Heath alone runs over fifty leagues east-west and forty north-south. Even the small section they identified on the map has to be at least three hundred square leagues in size. That's a lot of territory to cover."
Aslan grunted an acknowledgement. "I'd polymorph into a bird and scout from the air if it wasn't for this blasted fog," he said after a few more seconds. "How long does it usually last?"
Caroline considered. "Usually not more than two to three days, but sometimes up to a week," she said, then shrugged. "Our rangers know about those things better than I do."
Argo had been scouting ahead perhaps fifty feet in front of the paladin and the fighter. Aslan was about to call out to the ranger to ask what his estimate was for when the fog would lift when he saw Bigfellow had stopped at one of the bald cypress trees.
The big ranger turned at the approach of his wife and his friend, then turned back to the tree trunk and pointed at a spot a few inches above his head, at just under seven feet in height.
Aslan stared at it in puzzlement.
"Looks like a bunch of holes to me, Bigfellow. Like a woodpecker landed there for lunch."
"That's exactly what it's supposed to look like," Argo responded, then pointed at the holes and began drawing some kind of pattern in the air with his finger that Aslan couldn't follow. "It's actually a trail sign; indicates that there's a settlement in that direction," he said while pointing in a direction that Aslan guessed was southwest.
"Does it indicate how far?' Aslan asked. The paladin couldn't help but feel some skepticism. The holes certainly didn't seem to be in any sort of line or arrow formation as far as he could see.
Argo grimaced as he wiped the cold sweat off his forehead. "Either it doesn't, or if it does I can't read that part of it," he responded, a rare look of frustration spreading across his face. "I wish we had either Elrohir or Nesco here. I wouldn't mind a ranger conference."
"Speaking of which," Caroline Bigfellow said, with an expression that indicated she'd been meaning to bring this up earlier, "am I the only one who's noticed that Nesco tends to get very uncomfortable whenever swamps are mentioned?"
Aslan and Argo exchanged looks. Each read the answer to Caroline's question in the other's expression.
"As a matter of fact, love, I have," Bigfellow said, seeming to consider the issue for a few moments before shrugging. "Maybe the lack of comforts doesn't suit her preferences."
"I don't think that's true," replied Aslan, shaking his head. "Back in Highport, in the underground tunnels below the temple, Nesco willingly crawled through waste water just to reconnoiter for us, and that was her idea. I can assure you, Lady Cynewine is no stranger to getting down and dirty if she has to, Argo."
The big ranger raised an eyebrow and the flicker of a smile came over his face at the paladin's choice of words, but he took it no further than that.
"The other complication," he stated, returning to the previous topic, "is age. I can't tell how old this sign is."
Aslan was about to ask how that mattered when the realization hit him.
"You mean," he said slowly, "that if this sign predates the razing of where Orzdi used to be, following it may just lead us to a ruin."
"A ruin," Argo added, looking grim, "that may be too close to an encounter with Aerdian soldiers for comfort."
"So what do you suggest?"
"I suggest that you tell us what to do, Aslan. I've told you time and time again that I'm not a leader."
The scowl that abruptly came over Argo's face was an even rarer thing than sadness or frustration.
"Neither you nor my father ever got that."
Aslan and Caroline were following Argo in silence now as the trio trudged southwest.
The paladin couldn't help but note how the big ranger was becoming more and more taciturn the closer they came, or at least thought they were coming, to the new encampment.
Aslan could see the worry lines etched in Caroline's face as she stared at the back of her husband's head.
It was rough going. Even though there were occasional patches of dry land, even those featured enough marsh grasses and tree roots that both Aslan and Caroline were still slowed moving through them.
Argo Bigfellow, on the other hand, seemed to glide through them unencumbered. Aslan knew this was due to his ranger training. He'd seen Elrohir (but not Nesco) accomplish the same feat more than once in his travels.
For his part, Argo would occasionally pause and look back when he sensed he was opening up too much distance between him and the others. The big ranger would scowl again until they caught up and then turn around again without a word and proceed apace.
While Aslan wasn't wearing the helm of telepathy at present, it was stored in his backpack and several times he'd gotten it out to check on the link he'd established with Elrohir.
So far, all was quiet back at the Brass Dragon and preparations were underway.
Aslan dearly hoped that the rest of their team leader's master plan was going better than this part.
The paladin sighed as he watched the water rise up around the lumbering Argo until it came up to the big ranger's chest.
"Nothing for it," Argo told the others tersely. "Come on; it won't last long. We'll be through in a minute, tops."
"What about that way?" Aslan asked, pointing to a large patch of what looked like flat ground off to their right, which sported only a minimal amount of leafy debris on top. "Can't we detour that way?"
Argo's smile was not his usual pained one; this one looked uncharacteristically mean.
"That's quicksand, Aslan. Be my guest."
Aslan sighed even deeper and followed Bigfellow, who had turned back and was wading through the deep bog, not looking behind him.
It looked to the paladin like Caroline was now seriously trying to hold back either tears or an angry outburst.
Argo suddenly stopped.
"Wait a moment," he said, holding up a hand. The big ranger's attitude was now all business again; far less than his usual light manner, but at least the snappishness was gone from his voice.
Aslan was about to ask what the problem was when he saw it, or at least he saw something.
And that something was floating in the deep water towards them.
The paladin couldn't tell if it was pollution, some kind of debris or some sort of odd swampy plant life, but a brownish-yellow mass was coming towards them.
Even squinting, Aslan couldn't identify it. It looked like a transparent, gelatinous glob perhaps ten foot across. Bits of unidentifiable debris seemed lodged in it, including a darker sphere about a foot in diameter.
Aslan was about to ask Caroline what her opinion of this was when he saw her stop and ready her composite longbow.
A quick glance forward showed Argo doing the same.
The paladin frowned. None of this made sense. Even if some kind of animal or beast was hiding in this mass, arrows seemed the least effective response given their proximity.
"Aslan," he heard Caroline Bigfellow say, "there's no current in this bog."
Realization hit the paladin just as the mass rose up and hit Argo.
A glistening, mustard-colored pseudopod slapped the big ranger across the face, eliciting a shriek of pain.
Aslan couldn't understand why Argo had cried out so- he'd seen the big ranger take a lot worse- when he noticed that the impact had left a glistening residue on Bigfellow's exposed facial skin.
Skin which he could now see was burning from some kind of acid.
The pseudopod was trying to wrap itself around Argo's waist now, but Bigfellow managed to shoulder it aside.
Caroline wasn't firing. The young woman was moving laterally now to the right. Soon, she had reached a shallower section of the bog, where the water came up only to her calves. She then began moving forward again, keeping a distance of about ten feet between her and this… this ooze.
Some people considered Argo's wife a bit flighty and unfocused at times, but Aslan knew better. He'd seen first-hand how well Caroline Bigfellow could fight when she had to, and he saw that look of grim determination on her face now.
She was taking her time to get into position for an optimal shot; one that had no chance of accidently striking her husband.
As Aslan drew his longsword, he saw Argo back up so that he was now standing roughly where his wife had just been.
And then in the space of perhaps five seconds Argo Bigfellow Junior fired as many arrows.
Four of them lodged in the thing, causing a viscous fluid to leak out of it into the surrounding water.
Aslan was absolutely flabbergasted.
He'd never seen the big ranger, as skilled an archer as he was, demonstrate anything like the level of skill he had just employed.
Then he realized it was the armor. Argo's movements as he drew back, fired, and reloaded in an eyeblink were much broader and wider than was possible wearing plate mail.
Aslan had never realized until this moment just how much Argo had given up for the added protection of the heavier armor.
He wondered what had happened to the big ranger to cause him to make such a drastic decision.
Well, Aslan knew he was no better an archer regardless of what armor he was wearing, and it was obvious that conventional weaponry was capable of hurting this yellow blob, so he waded forward, arm raised to strike.
"Aslan- no!"
Caroline's shouted warning came an instant too late. The paladin's downward stroke clove right through what he now saw was some kind of rubbery outer membrane, leaving a major gash in the ooze..
Aslan afforded himself a grim smile of satisfaction as what looked like a good portion of the creature's insides spewed out into the swamp water. Whatever this monstrosity was, they were clearly killing it.
"I'm all right!" he called back to Caroline as he took care to avoid flesh contact with the thing. "It's not as tough as it-"
Aslan broke off as he witnessed with his own eyes the real reason for Lady Bigfellow's warning.
With a frightening rapidity, the liquid inside of this jellylike creature seemed to rearrange itself.
The holes made by Argo's arrows were choked off. The gash made by Aslan's longsword, however, actually began to widen as the paladin stared at it in disbelief.
In a matter of seconds, the gash had reached the far end of the membrane and with a horrible squishing sound the creature tore itself in two.
Both halves then attacked.
The paladin cried out in pain as a newly-created pseudopod wrapped itself around his sword arm.
The acid was like fire.
Worse, he couldn't break loose.
The second ooze was now heading towards Caroline. Aslan saw with a sickening realization that by simply halving its thickness, both of these monstrous jellies were now the same size as the original.
Fortunately, Caroline had seen it coming and adroitly ducked underneath the pseudopod that formed and lashed out at her.
"Sorry!" Aslan called out; somewhat lamely, he thought.
Argo retreated again. Now back in the shallow portion of the bog, the big ranger let fly a slightly smaller volley of arrows; taking greater caution, Aslan hoped, because he was now a potential target as well.
Unfortunately, none of the three arrows penetrated for effect.
Aslan tried to think through the pain.
Even if he could free his sword, using it on this thing would be, to put it mildly, counterproductive.
And there was not a chance in Hel's Realm that he'd be able to draw his bow in this situation, let alone be able to reach his quiver.
"Well, fine!" Aslan shouted and disappeared.
The paladin hadn't gone far; his teleport had placed him opposite the ooze that was now engaging Caroline. It was between the two of them; no chance of him hitting her accidently.
He readied his composite longbow.
Caroline backed up and fired a single arrow that punched another hole in the amorphous blob. More fluid spurted out.
One jelly came for her: the other oozed towards her husband.
Caroline was barely able to dodge again but Argo was a second too slow and cried out once more in pain. On instinct, he'd thrown up his left arm to block the oncoming pseudopod. The blow had been bad enough, but it had also knocked the ranger's arm to the side and now the pseudopod had encircled Bigfellow's torso, rendering his bow useless.
"Like I needed another reason not to come back here!" he roared in frustration.
Aslan pivoted to the right and fired two arrows at the mass attacking Argo. Like Caroline, the ranger was positioned on the far side of the blob from Aslan, so he didn't have to worry about friendly fire.
Both arrows hit, one penetrating into the dark sphere that was now next to the surface, given the creature's reduced thickness.
Amid more spurting fluid, the amoeboid mass spread itself out across the shallow water.
It was no longer moving.
Argo, freeing himself, followed Aslan's lead. Two arrows sped from the big ranger's quiver and the second ooze spread out like a bucket of bilge water on the swampy ground.
It was over.
"Thank you for the healing, Aslan," Caroline said.
The paladin frowned at Lady Bigfellow. "You never got hit, Caroline."
She smiled. "I'm thanking you for Argo."
The big ranger, whom Aslan had healed just after himself, rolled his eyes. Despite himself it seemed; his famous pained smile made an appearance.
"Thanks. Acid burns are so last year."
Aslan didn't quite get the slang, but he was grateful for the momentary return of the Argo Bigfellow that he knew.
As infuriating as that person could be, Aslan would take him in a second over the new, morose version.
"So what is this thing?" the paladin asked, gesturing at the unmoving gelatinous mass before them. "You knew enough to warn me against using my sword on it," he added, looking at Caroline.
"It's called an ochre jelly," she said, but before she could explain further, a splashing sound ahead of them caused all three heads to turn.
A man of perhaps thirty was approaching them.
The newcomer had brown eyes and black hair, cut short. He looked to be just under six feet and perhaps a few pounds below the ideal weight for his size.
Like them, he wore light armor, studded leather in this case and carried a composite longbow similar to their own.
The weaponry hanging off his weapon belt, however, was a far cry from what they'd seen in Yenom's caravan boxes.
This man carried a morning star… and a whip.
He smiled, revealing several missing teeth.
"Argo. Caroline," he greeted the Bigfellows. "By the gods, it's good to see you again."
"Thornton," Argo responded, his smile genuine but growing thinner again.
Thornton turned to regard Aslan, a wry look on his face.
"Trust me," he said. "That's not the kind of jelly you want on your toast."