Boss #1 King Slime. Lol im trash at fight scenes but they're boring to write. besides, it's ranger class. ultra uninteresting (Arkhalis is literally for light and cutting through the thorns in Crimson and jungle.

Armour: Platinum

Weapon: Platinum Bow(Fire Arrows), Arkhalis

Acc(6/11): Band of Regeneration, Radar, Hermes Boots, Round Shield, Aglet, Rover Drive

Health: 395/400

Slime…

It fell with the rain. The droplets landed thick and heavy all over the soaking landscape. Quivering multicolor globs weighed down tree branches before falling to flatten tender blades of grass beneath. Slime and water together splattered noisily and messily all over The Terrarian's pristine buildings. Blue, purple, yellow, green, showered down like a jellied rainbow from the rumbling storm clouds above.

…

The air grew sickly sweet with the unique scent of gel. The wetness in the air only caused the smell to grow almost overwhelmingly potent. The warm and, - frankly muggily unpleasant air - filled The Terrarian's lungs, and roused him from the monotony of shaping window mouldings. Through his slatted platinum visor, He gazed over the small clearing he'd come to call home and tentatively sniffed the air.

...ugh.

The heady gellish smell was nearly enough to cover the scent that The Guide had brought back last night. Nearly. The Terrarian wasn't sure where The Guide had wandered off yesterday, and frankly didn't want to know. It stank. He stank. And so did everything he touched. As far as The Terrarian was concerned, he'd have no more interaction with The Guide until he washed himself sufficiently.

…

He sniffed disdainfully and returned to the window moulding. How strange that neither The Guide nor The Travelling Merchant seemed to be bothered by the smell - at least not nearly as bothered as he was. Perhaps they lacked the sense of smell entirely? Maybe their noses were simply for decoration… Well, it wasn't worth thinking about. The Terrarian's chief concern was keeping his exposure to that foul scent to a bare minimum. As such - although The Terrarian was quite eager to enjoy the comforts he had installed in his first construction project - he had opted to spend the night outdoors, busying himself laying the foundation of a new building and practicing his aim on the creatures of the night. He had heard The (offensively smelly) Guide chatting animatedly late into the night with the Travelling Merchant, but didn't dare come in to listen for fear he would gag himself on that scarlet stink.

…

He would probably need to demolish the place and build it again if he wanted to use the property. A pity to be sure, but construction wasn't a terribly strenuous task for him, perhaps a single night's work? Well, anyways - The Terrarian found that he rather enjoyed the monotonous building process. So involved was he in his project, that the night flew by - leaving a fresh new building in its wake. Now he had two sheds, identical in every way. One built for The Guide, and one assigned to the Travelling Merchant, who had yesterday vowed to be useful and purchased his own life for the price of a lovely woolen cloak.

*Splat*

A sudden weight on his left shoulder, a heavy impact from far above. It buckled his knee and briefly unbalanced The Terrarian, startling him away from his current task. A slime had fallen from the sky and impaled itself on a spike in his shoulder armour, splattering its innards all over his newest article of vanity. The lovely winter cloak was considerably less lovely with a great yellow stain on it. Rather upset, The Terrarian stood upright and vanished his copper mallet, with which he had been shaping the gray-bricked edifice. He pulled out his blade and attempted to scrape the sticky mess from the waxed linen. When he found the soupy goop was stubbornly embedded in the fabric, and likely wouldn't come out without a thorough laundering, he turned his frustration upon the guilty slime's colleagues.

…

And so, with far more wrath than the situation merited, The Terrarian willed his bow into existence and drew the stiff platinum drawstring to his jaw. In his gloved fingers, the fletchings of a flaming arrow appeared, already mounted to the bowstring. With a deadly whine, the arrow shot out and skewered a particularly large purple specimen - killing and igniting it in one fell swoop. A flare burst from it - splattering the surrounding area in burning, flammable material. Most of the inferno was promptly extinguished by the driving rainstorm, but some of the slime's remains ignited a smaller, nearby blue slime - which likewise immediately exploded.

And so, with a sort of grotesque glee, The Terrarian danced through the steaming field as he embarked on a fiery slaughter.

*rumble*

The Guide yawned and raised his eyes as a strange noise reverberated throughout the clearing. The sky above was gray and raining down large hunks of slime like hail. The clearing was slick and wet from the rainstorm, yet blazed and steamed so ferociously The Guide could hardly see through it. (Fire? what?!) Suddenly panicked, he peered into the midst of the clearing, where he could make out The Terrarian's armoured silhouette. It appeared that he was viciously slashing away at something tremendous.

(Yawn) Oh no… what now...

The Guide clung to the door frame for support as he watched the devolving chaos with a sort of unbelief. Was he dreaming perhaps? Had he truly drank that much he was hallucinating? Was that… The King of Slimes…

"Ah yes… your very normal friend - wasn't it?"

The Guide whipped his head around to find the source of the voice. The motion caused him to go cross eyed and filled him with the desire to hurl up his most recent meal. How much had he managed to drink last night?! Hell, he could hardly even think. He was slow, groggy, and badly hungover from last night's festivities. He and the Travelling Merchant had spent all evening engaged in mostly intelligent conversation. They had discussed some current events, wrote and signed a business contract, money (diamonds) changed hands, and the Merchant's finest bottle of liquor was uncorked. The Guide didn't remember anything thereafter.

*Splat… splat*

As The Terrarian ruthlessly butchered what remained of the King Slime, The Guide found himself thrown headlong into a different sort of conflict. For the first time in his life, his lie had caught up with him. He had claimed The Terrarian wasn't a Terrarian. That he was merely a strange, emotionally challenged man who was ordinary in every respect save his deficits. Clearly, this wasn't the case. The King Slime was a tremendously powerful entity which congealed from the bodies of its slain brethren. In times past, skilled hunting parties would go in groups to slay a King Slime to collect the unbelievably precious crown it wore. Many had fallen in these expeditions. None would dare take on a King Slime alone…

None but a Terrarian… ugh crap, why now?

"Quite The Slayer, your friend. I can't help but be curious as to what he might be… I'm sure the Capital would love to study him. Perhaps the King would like to recruit him to his troops… The Resistance likewise. I'm sure Braelor would prefer two heroes to one..."

The Guide glared with as much venom as he could muster. Now The Travelling Merchant was toying with him. To one degree or another, the gentleman knew what The Guide feared. He knew the Guide was coveting The Terrarian for his own revenge, and could not fight with the likes of Yharim or the Resistance. The Merchant also knew that he was completely safe - as he had been tasked with a very important assignment. Naturally, he was using his position for leverage. The Guide narrowed his eyes as he responded.

"Don't cross me, Merchant. This remains a secret. The… Slayer doesn't just kill creatures."

The Merchant shook his head. The thinly veiled threat was ineffective, and the older man chose not to take offense at The Guide's last ditch attempt to salvage his cover story. He simply shrugged and pointed at The Terrarian, who seemed to have gone out of his way to avoid the two of them as he circled around the clearing.

"Perhaps what you say is true… but it appears that your Slayer has no loyalty to you. Who's to say he'd obey your orders? After all, you are an ordinary man."

The Guide gritted his teeth and glared daggers at the smirking gentlemen. What made him angrier was what The Merchant said was absolutely true. The Terrarian had always been cold towards him. In fact, he had avoided nearly all interaction ever since The Guide returned from the crimson. Even now, the almost man didn't approach them as he marched out of the steaming clearing, dragging The Crown behind him like a game animal made of gold and rubies. The two men watched him disappear behind a building before resuming negotiations. The Guide pursed his lips and chose to double down. Hoping that The Travelling Merchant would sell his secrecy for future business.

"The Slayer… is Very normal. Absolutely nothing worthy of rumors. Your confidentiality is much appreciated…I'm certain I have more business for you on that contingency."

The Travelling Merchant responded with a gruff laughter and adjusted his cargo pack. His eyes glittered with greed. His response was as expected.

"You're correct in assuming my confidentiality has a price… Here's my offer. I expect to find you here in two weeks' time whilst I find a buyer for the Slime Crown. I will deliver the report you requested, and also pick up the Crown which you will have preserved it for me. I sell my silence for a Slime Crown. Is this acceptable?"

The Guide sighed in defeat. He had to agree. What choice did he have? He pinched the bridge of his nose and released an unhappy groan before speaking. The Merchant was much more cheerful.

"...Fine. I accept your terms."

"Very good, Young Sir. I'll see you soon."

Slayer bby is a clean freak. Has a nose like a dog. Just something random I wanted to throw in, something weird to differentiate him. The Guide is over here losing in mind games. More NPC next.

lmk if u read