Urt jabbed the torch at the slime, which seemed to be in no real hurry to engulf them, whilst the general of his would-be-army changed into wolf form.

    Apart from something was wrong. Instead of the sleek canine werebeast, Reginald had morphed into something else. The new shape was covered in wiry looking wool which had a metallic sheen to it. Evil red eyes glared out from a black face, and twisted teeth protruded from a long snout, from which a forked tongue darted.

    "Baaahahahahhh," snarled the were-sheep, lifting one leg up out of the water, to reveal a razor sharp hoof.

    The slime gargled in response, as if accepting the challenge, and started to surge forward.

    "Get it boy!" shouted Urt encouragingly, as the ferocious sheep lunged in turn at the blob, which failed to evade in any fashion. "Oh."

    Urt would have backed away more, except that the dead end excluded that possibility. Instead he was forced to watch as the malformed general of his army-to-be was slowly absorbed into the mass. Kicking and bleating all the way.

    Concentrating hard, Urt summoned forth as much power as he could muster, and said a Word as the slime completed consuming Reginald and started rolling forward again.

    The sparks that dribbled from his finger made a pretty show, but totally failed to stop Urt from being eaten alive.

    ~ * ~

    "They''re meant to be eaten alive."

    Redthorne looked down at the bowl of wriggling pink things the landlord had placed in front of him and shook his head. "Not by me they aren''t. Give them to my bodyguard, he''ll probably enjoy them." He jerked his head to indicate Yu Sod, who was standing behind Redthorne making everyone, including the wizard, nervous.

    "Er, aye sire." The landlord made a vague gesture at the monk and then scampered away. Leaving the bowl where it was.

    Pushing the alleged meal away with one finger, Redthorne looked down at his list. "Who''s next then?" he asked.

    "The name''s Prudence." A large female warrior dressed in sparkling silver plate mail was suddenly standing in front of him. A gigantic sword, apparently as tall as she was, protruded over one shoulder. Her blonde hair was cropped short, giving her a rather brutal appearance.

    Raising an eyebrow, the mage indicated the seat on the other side of the table. "Please, sit."

    "I prefer to stand. Sloth is not something that should be encouraged."

    "I agree, in principle," Redthorne replied. "Nevertheless, my old bones are creaking from travel, and I don''t wish to strain my neck looking up at you. Sit."

    "As you say wizard, I apologise." Not taking her eyes off him, the latest applicant to his party of adventurers seated herself in one smooth motion, pulling the chair up with her leg. She sat bolt upright, and the mage subconsciously straightened his own posture.

    "So, who are you then?" he asked. "Please tell me a little about yourself."

    "I have been named Prudence by my order, the Righteous Guard of The Lady. I am a paladin on quest, here to bring Light to those who lack such. I seek to eliminate evil and bring the world out of the darkness." She raised her head in, what in someone less noble, would surely have been pride.

    "I… see." Redthorne nodded and considered the warrior. In truth he wasn''t even sure he needed more in his small group, but better to have muscle that wasn''t needed, than not enough that was. He sighed. He knew of the Order of the Lady. It was a small but powerful force. Paladins went through a, literal, lifetime of training within the sprawling fortified complex many leagues to the south. Rumour had it that more than three quarters terminally failed the course, and only one out of ten made the rank of Paladin. Those that did though, were not to be trifled with. The only problem was, they could be a pain in the backside to deal with.

    "We may face grave and powerful evil…" he started.

    "I accept!" Prudence stood and saluted. "I vow that I shall not leave your side until the dark has been vanquished and your mission, our mission ends in complete victory. Hail the Lady! Hail the Light."

    Redthorne rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on.

    ~ * ~

    It was actually quite comfortable inside the blob, if a bit cold, once you became used to being suspended like a cherry in a trifle. Urt tried to relax as the slime rolled through the tunnels. Visibility was limited, but not totally absent. The torch had been left behind, apparently the creature that had absorbed them didn''t like the taste, but the blob itself was slightly luminescent, and so he could see the scenery, if that''s what you could call it, rolling by.

    Back in human form, Reginald was carried alongside him. Urt could see the were-sheep, but as the other was facing the other way, he couldn''t make eye contact.

    ''How am I breathing?'' he wondered, as the slime took a left turn into a slightly narrower tunnel that sloped down. Perhaps it was best to consider the fact that he was breathing, and worry about other things instead.

    One of these other things was where the blob was taking them. Was it to some kind of nest full of small blobs? An image of eager green slimes reaching for their latest tasty treat came to mind, and Urt would have shaken his head to dispel the picture, had he been able.

    He wondered what had happened to his zombies. They''d probably annoyed someone and been Turned already. Well, the dead were plentiful at least, if only he could raise them.

    ''I should have taken my garments from the hag and then just gone to Banesville,'' he lamented. The thought of crossing the hag - the leg image waved at him again - sat ill at ease with him. Perhaps it was because she was a witch, a fellow dabbler in the dark arts, and dangerous to boot. He had a sneaking suspicion that wasn''t it though.

    So deep was his concentration that he failed to notice the light ahead until they were almost there.

    The blob rolled up a slight incline and into a room that was lit by evenly spaced torches. Room was perhaps the wrong description, conjuring up images of a relatively small area encompassing some chairs and possibly a table. Chamber was a better word. Cluttered chamber was even more accurate.

    The blob rolled along a narrow aisle that was made up of everything from dried… sewer stuff through to glistening, if crusted, swords and metal armour.

    Finally it took a sharp right and stopped in front of a wall, next to a small space. This was evidently their spot, because Urt felt a movement as the slime pushed them out of its main mass. Ejected like some kind of twisted rebirth, both Urt and Reginald were regurgitated onto the stone floor in a most undignified fashion, where they lay gasping for breath.

    Its job done, the blog rolled off, leaving them floundering and quivering from their ordeal.

    "I never want to go through that again," Urt said, still lying flat out on the cold stone floor.

    "Before I met you my biggest worry was how many rabbits I could catch," replied Reginald, curling up into a shivering ball.

    "Don''t forget you still owe me one," Urt reminded him. "At least it let us go."

    "Indeed, and I find that suspicious all by itself." The were-sheep uncurled and sat upright, and Urt emulated him, looking around at their new surroundings.

    "What is this place?" he asked.

    "Looks like our blob friend has collected just about anything it could find in the sewers and brought it here." Reginald glanced at a small damp, still form nearby. "At least we know where the rats have gone."

    "A new delivery!" came a screeching voice from nearby. "Oh how exciting!"

    Urt and Reginald climbed to their feet and turned to face the direction of the voice.

    "I think we just found the person in charge," said Reginald.

    ~ * ~

    Samantha pulled her horse to a stop at what appeared to be just another part of the road. She knew though, that to her left, concealed by a small magic, was the road that led to Banesville, which was where her quarry, her new quarry, had apparently gone, according to her brother and the other, less reliable, sources in Mudrut anyway.

    On the other hand, her escaped target would, in all probability anyway, carried on towards Groan. She couldn''t be sure of this of course, the tracks had faded, but it was unlikely they would have veered off.

    She sighed. Screw it, Sysnista said Urt was the priority, and he was a wizard too, so maybe she would be able get him to help with a tracking spell or something.