And Then There Were More

The worst scenario to happen to Brent and his company had been theorized, yet to see it happen before their very eyes still surprised them nonetheless. The orks had came, stabbed Brent with a spear, and then took him away from his friends. It seemed as though they thought Brent was some kind of wild animal, and they decided to hunt him down. No one thought that the orks from the fishing shack would have tracked Brent and his company through the caves in such a short allotment of time, since they had hoped that they would get lost in the underground cavern.

But now, Robert and Samantha had never felt so alone.

Once the orks were away, Samantha peered out from the gathered brambles before leaping out of her hiding spot. She looked at the hole in the ground where the spear had stuck Brent. She then looked toward Robert, speechless.

Once Robert stopped hunkering himself into the ground, he looked up to see that Brent, and the spear that impaled him, were gone. "... Well this sucks."

Samantha looked at the cave where the orks had disappeared into and hissed. "So they DID follow Brent to us."

Robert shook his head. "So what if they did? We knew we weren't safe forever, and we knew it would only be a matter of time before they found us."

Samantha turned to Robert, panic in her eyes. "They were tracking Brent, Robert. Even if he didn't know if he was making tracks that led them here, they came pretty close to discovering the rest of us! And now he's dead! Didn't you hear them say what they are gonna do to him?! Hell, what are they going to do to us if they found us next!?"

"SAM!" Robert shouted, glaring at Samantha. When Samantha paused, Robert began to talk calmly. "Brent is still alive. When they carried him off, he looked back at me with great fear in his eyes, terrified of what has happened. But he hasn't died yet."

Samantha scrutinized Robert's expression. "... But... But the spear impaled him!"

Robert nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, but it didn't kill him. We'll have to follow after those orks and make a plan to get Brent back. I only got to know him for about four days, but he's in the same boat as us whether you like it or not, and I need to use everything at our disposal to get him back, and then get the rest of us back to the Far, Far Range."

Samantha's expression became puzzled and surprised. "Why are you so suddenly gung-ho about saving Brent from those orks?"

Robert sighed. "I was paid to protect you ladies and that detective. I'm just trying to do my job."

"Really?" Samantha sarcastically questioned.

Robert rolled his eyes. "I know I ain't some white knight, alright? Hell, I might expect a bonus to my paycheck after this. But what I mean is... Wouldn't you want us to come and get you out of trouble if you were the damsel in distress?"

Samantha hissed and turned away from Robert. "... Yes. ... But supposing Brent is still alive, how will we rescue him? If you haven't noticed, we don't have any weapons, let alone any weight to throw around."

"I don't know, but we're going to follow those orks and look for ways to get Brent back." Robert nodded before looking towards the cave where those two orks carried Brent into. "Before they REALLY kill him."

"Really kill who?"

Robert and Samantha looked up to see Tiffany coming into earshot of their conversation. Robert and Samantha's mouths hanged open when they saw her. Robert and Samantha began to look at each other, noticing that they mirrored each other's expression. Samantha's expression then changed into something else. Across her face, her expression turned into something akin to disgust. "As much as I hate to say this... but... Robert? About that discussion Tiffany brought up?"

Robert banged his face on the ground. "Dammit."

The heavy stomping of metal boots echoed violently through the cavernous, black walls. Breathy grunting exuded from the two orks as they marched through the ebony abyss of the caves underneath the mountain. Brent remained silent as he was carried by a large green hand that seemed capable of crushing a human skull, and talons at the end of each finger capable of piercing flesh and ripping throats from necks. However, Brent was more surprised that he somehow survived being impaled by a spear. It went right through his body without any resistance, yet he felt no pain as its point and sharp edge cleaved through him and stuck him to the ground. Brent wasn't sure how he was still alive at all. Perhaps becoming a slime imparted some resistance to physical damage?

However, he didn't have the time to contemplate his mortality. He was still in mortal peril.

Gorggat growled in contempt as he brightened his path with a flashlight-like device in his hands. "Grah. If I'd have known yer hunt'n trip would take dis long, I'd ave' brought sum grub wit' me."

"Ya bellyach'n already? Heh. Probably got yourself hungry from fight'n' too 'ard for 'da gitfinda back at 'da shack." Grashnik chuckled.

"Yer were punch'n pretty 'ard. Ain't ya hungry too?" Gorggat asked.

Grashnik shook his head. "Nah. I ain't too hungry. I ate before we left."

"How about ya give yer little kritta ta me? It looks jus big enough ta be a gud sized snack." Gorggat said, stopping and stretching a hand to Brent.

Brent was jolted around as Grashnik sent a fist toward Gorggat's face. A heavy growl replied after the assault. "Oi! I ain't about ta give ya ma kill! I found it, so I gets ta cut an' cook it!"

Gorggat rubbed his chin, growling back. However, he did seem somewhat lethargic to respond to Grashnik with fisticuffs. "Alright, how about dis den. We kan kut it 'n af, see? Give me wun af so I don't starve, an ya kan keep 'da otha af for whateva kook'n yer want ta do wit' it. Sound fair?"

Grashnik paused for several seconds before he came up with an answer. He then began to growl in annoyance as he nodded his head. "Ya always gets so annoy'n when ya bellyache dis much. Fine. Yer kan have af." Grashnik then brought out a knife with his other hand and proceeded to press Brent to the floor.

It was then that Brent panicked. "WAIT WAIT WAIT PLEASE STOP NO DON'T CUT ME!" He shouted, wiggling madly.

Both orks were startled by the suddenly talking pink slime they have in their possession. After several seconds of silence, Gorggat spoke first. "Wot?! Did dis bug-eyed wobbly kritta jus talked?! Why didn't ya tell me it talked?! An' why is it still alive?!"

Grashnik picked up Brent to inspect him more closely. "I didn't know it kould talk, an' I didn't know it was still alive! Oi! Bug-eyed wobbly! Kan ya understand us?"

Brent paused for a couple seconds before answering. "... Uh... Yes... Apparently..." Brent suddenly realized that he told the orks that he was, unfortunately, able to talk.

Grashnik nodded his head before pointing a talon-tipped finger at Brent. "Okay, so yer kan talk. I got some questions for ya, see? If ya answa im wrong, den yer'll make us angry. Ya wouldn't like us when ya make us angry. Ya understand?"

Brent slowly nodded. "Uh... Sure! Yeah! Just... Put the knife away please?"

Grashnik shook his head. "Nah. Iz keep'n it out 'n kase ya make me angry." Grashnik pointed his knife at Brent. "Now ere's some questions for ya. Wot's yer name? Wot's 'da name uv yer species? An' are 'der more uv ya?"

Brent thought quickly about his three answers. He knew that if he said anything wrong, he might anger his captors. "Uh... Okay! Alright! Fine by me! My name is Brent, and I'm a h-... a pink slime. And... as far as I know, I'm the only pink slime that can talk."

"Iz 'dat so? Den tell me dis." Grashnik then sheathed his knife and reached behind himself to pull out a pink tetragonal trapezohedron. "Are dese fings eggs, or are dey drops?"

Brent realized what Grashnik was holding. "Those are... How did you get a hold of my plorts?!"

Gorggat tilted his head. "... Wot 'da zog iz a plort?"

"I dunno, but 'e said dis fing iz a plort, so it's a plort!" Grashnik replied, pocketing the plort back in his pocket. "Hmm. I don't know wot ta do wit' dese plort fings otha dan putt'n it 'n food, but I reckon some oddboyz might know wot else dey're gud for."

"Oddboyz?" Gorggat rolled his head and groaned in annoyance. "I hate dose guys. Always talk'n nonsense, always huddl'n close ta flash gitz nobs 'dat fink dey are betta dan me. I might not be as big as a nob, but I have dreams! Big dreams uv becom'n a flash gitz someday! Jus gotta find me a flesh-eat'n squig an' I'll be set."

Grashnik nodded sagely at Gorggat. "Yeah. If we get a fleash-eat'n squig or two, we'd be able ta live komfy lives 'n Fort Gash." Grashnik then held Brent up to inspect him. "No more fish an snots muck'n about around us anymore!"

"Uh... Fort Gash? Wait. Are you saying there are... more of you?" Brent asked.

Grashnik smiled a toothy smile at Brent. "'Dat's right, brent! 'Der's loads uv us orks at da fort! Loads an loads! But we're not gonna take ya 'der. Ya kan make dese plort fings, right? Well see, otha orks might get jealous if dey know yer kan make dose tasty sweet pink plort fings. Dey might get 'da bright idea ta steal yer away from us, an we won't get more uv yer plorts if 'dat happens, see?"

Brent paled. "... So you're going to keep me like some pet? Like some prisoner?!"

"Well, more or less." Grashnik said, continuing his forward march and walking through the underground caverns. "If ya's gud at behav'n like a gud pet, slave, servant or whatever, den we might decide ta keep ya. But see, an' ork boy ain't very orky if 'e don't fink smart from time ta time. An' I fink yer know more about dis planet dan us orks do. So, we iz gunna keep ya. But not jus keep ya, but also ask ya questions about 'da planet we're all on. If we know more about dis planet, den all uv us orks will be betta prepared ta survive on it! see wot I mean?"

"I see. So you want me to be your guide. But from the way you worded it... you make it sound like you're not from this planet at all." Brent said aloud, more to himself than to Grashnik or Gorggat.

Gorggat chuckled. "Dis git doesn't know about us orks comin' from space? Well ain't 'dat a laugh."

"There is MORE of you up there?! Oh..." Brent felt a pang of worry. He hoped that Tiffany, Samantha and Robert were safe.

Gorggat paused for a few seconds before turning to face Brent while they traveled through the underground cave system. "Ya know wot? Yer voice sounds kind uv familiar..."

Brent didn't like where this conversation was going. "Uh... Why is that?"

"I dunno. I jus thought I heard yer voice from somewhere before... Bah, probably rememberin' fings wrong." Gorggat said, shrugging his enormous shoulders and continuing his march.

Brent felt a deep pang of doom befalling onto his soul. By some miracle, he was able to survive being struck by a spear that, by all accounts, should have killed him. However, he supposed that his new slime body had enabled him to survive the attack that would have became a mortal injury on any regular human. Despite surviving the impalement from the spear, Brent was in trouble still. Apparently, the orks were now less interested about eating Brent. They were now more interested in interrogating him. And since these orks were apparently newcomers to this planet, they would undoubtedly want to know everything about it, and they figured that Brent was a native local that knew much of the landscape. Brent was unsure how these orks would take it if they realized that he too wasn't from this world. As much as Brent hated to admit it, but he felt like he needed to play along. So long as these orks believed that he was a 'native' slime, they would stave themselves from eating him. At least, not anytime soon.

As the two orks made their way through the underground caverns, Gorggat stopped to lean down and pick something shiny off of the ground. He was puzzled by what he saw. "Oi. I fink I found annuver wun uv dose plort fings."

Brent instantly recognized it as a phosphor plort.

Grashnik raised an eyebrow at the new type of plort before looking at his hand, holding Brent. "Hmm. Dis wun iz a different kolor dan da pink ones. I'z dink'n brent ain't da only bug-eyed wobbly slime git dat's on dis planet."

Brent felt as though his life would come to a quick end soon. "Uh... Coincidence, maybe?"

"Let's make dis easy den. Tell us wot made dis plort fing ere, an I won't kut yer 'n af." Gorggat threatened, unholstering a huge and crude sword from his back.

"OKAY, OKAY!" Brent yelled as the tip of Gorggat's sword poked him. "That's... That's a phosphor plort! A phosphor slime can make them!"

"An' why iz a phosphor plort do'n down ere?" Gorggat asked 'politely', poking Brent again.

"Phosphor slimes don't like being in the sunlight! There must have been one staying here for a bit before it came back outside!" Brent replied. That might be technically true, considering that Tiffany was a phosphor slime. Strange. He remembered Robert telling him that he, Samantha, and Tiffany, hide their plorts. Yet the one Gorggat found was out in plain sight. Tiffany was probably reckless, and she simply forgot to hide one of the plorts she made.

Gorggat sheathed his enormous sword and pocketed the plort "So 'der are more uv ya slimes. Grashnik, let's take a look around our shack! If we sees some slimes, we round im up!" He grunted.

Grashnik smiled a toothy smile. "Well ain't dat nice! We'll be gett'n lots more slimes ta add to our kook'n pot!" He said, matching Gorggat's increased speed.

Brent sighed in relief. At least they were heading away from his friends. Through his sacrifice, Brent would keep Tiffany, Samantha, and Robert safe for a while longer.

However, he was stunned by what he saw after Gorggat and Grashnik exited from the underground caverns and found themselves back on the surface.

Slimes.

There were slimes everywhere.

Rock slimes headbutted into each other or jumped on beach rocks. Phosphor slimes floated through the air, ate fruits and chased each other lazily. Tabby slimes pounced on each other and whatever source of meat they could eat, while sometimes stealing something and hiding it elsewhere. And the pink slimes, surprisingly, and perhaps unsurprisingly to Brent, were twice the size of the tabby, rock, and phosphor slime populations combined.

Gorggat was surprised by what he found. "Whoa! 'Der's a load uv dose bug-eyed wobbly slimes ere!"

Grashnik stared at all the slimes with wide eyes. "'Der's way too many ta fit 'n 'da kook'n pot! Where did all dese gits kome from?!"

Brent was startled by the surplus number of slimes he was seeing. But he was also terrified. He wasn't worried about himself anymore. He was worried about them. "EVERYONE, RUN AWAY! YOU'RE NOT SAFE! IF THESE GUYS CATCH YOU, THEY'LL COOK YOU FOR THEIR SUPPER! GET AWAY FROM HERE!"

Brent expected the slimes to take the message. They would have fled the area in a screaming panic, and narrowly escape the clutches of the orks that held Brent hostage. Brent even had hoped that these slimes were once humans too, and could understand Brent's warning. But no. They all turned toward Brent's voice and stared at him and his captors dumbly. Seconds passed, and it was then Brent realized that these slimes were just normal slimes after all. Brent didn't know why there were so many slimes here, and yet they were here, unaware of the danger that were just a few steps away from them.

The slimes didn't understand Brent's warning. They simply looked at Brent in confusion, and looked in awe at the two orks that came out of the cave. Brent was steadily becoming more worried for the slimes that was before him, now no longer convinced they were once human.

Gorggat scanned the environment and the slimes before him. "... Hmm. I guess dese bug-eyed wobbly slimes didn't hear ya, or didn't understand ya."

Grashnik nodded. "Brent did say 'e was 'da only pink slime dat kould talk. Maybe dese wuns are too stupid ta talk?"

"If 'dat's true, den krump'n all dese slimes iz gunna be easia dan shoot'n fish 'n a barrul. Time fer sum krump'n!" Gorggat growled dangerously as he brought out his huge sword.

"I'z kag'n up brent. Don't krump too many uv im while I'z 'n 'da shack!" Grashnik yelled as he began running towards the red fishing shack.

Gorggat roared as he swung his enormous sword at a nearby group of slimes. His sword passed through many of them. Some were launched several feet into the air. Giant stomping boots impacted the ground with thunderous force anytime a slime neared his feet. The slimes were startled by the sudden violence that this ork exhibited, so they decided to try and slip away in every direction, even though some were unfortunately chased down and attacked by Gorggat.

Brent could only see this battle briefly as his view was obstructed by a closing metal door.

Brent's vision was filled by something different. He was inside of the fishing shack, and he took note of the fire pit that was maintained by small creatures that looked like pale green potatoes. The walls were adorned with various fishing equipment, but also of weapons of different shapes and sizes, ranging from axes, spears, and swords. Brent thought he also saw a few guns on the wall too. Unfortunately, the tour ended as Brent was delivered to a shoddy workbench and forced into a steel, makeshift cage. The inside of this cage was very bloody, looking like the animal once inside it had its intestines pulled out from between the bars.

Grashnik turned to the potato-looking beings and pointed at Brent. "Alright, snotlin's, listen up. If any uv ya snots get 'da idea ta eat dis fing, don't. 'Cos if ya do, den 'da next grot ta kome about our fish'n shack will kook ya an serve ya up ta Gorggat. Ya understand?"

The snotlings nodded in unison rapidly. Brent suddenly realized that they looked similarly to the bloody spud that Brent had eaten earlier. If he had a human stomach, he would have thrown up then and there.

"Right. I'z go'n out for a bit uv krump'n." Grashnik said as he unsheathed his spear and began to head out. An excited smile stretched across his face like some violence-hungry demon. "Ere we go, ere we go, ere we go! Time for a gud and proppa hunt! Time to fight! Time for WAAAGH!" Grashnik practically barged out of the shack in excitement, and began to target and hunt the slimes all around the fishing shack.

This had happened so fast for Brent. His mind was having a hard time processing it all. And now, he was trapped in a cage with nowhere to go. The 'snotlings', as Grashnik called them, stared at Brent curiously, and they all hungrily licked their lips. Had Grashnik not warned them not to eat Brent, then they would most certainly try to pull pieces of flesh off of him.

And now, the only things that Brent could see was the interior of an ork fishing shack, and the sneering faces of the tittering snotlings looking back at him as they tended to the fire. The sounds of two distant orks hunting slimes, and the crackling of the fire at the center of the room were the only things Brent could hear. The smell of old mushrooms, raw meat, and heavy metals clung to the air so headily that it nearly made Brent sick.

There is no way Brent was going to wait for those two orks to come back. Brent made up his mind and decided he needed to escape.

A/N: How will Brent get himself out of this situation? :Uc