Monsters were likely cut from a tougher cloth when it comes to survival. Especially monsters with a biological heritage of only eating once every week or so.
For example: my tactic of eating whenever and just digesting between binges doesn’t work for a lot of other species, so far as I know. That’s a strategy pretty much solely reserved for just snakes and college graduates.
Which is why, we’re really in a bind.
If I had my Earth magic back, I know I could slither off into the desert no one the wiser.
Heck, just a bit of it cooperating and I could probably survive easily compared to the nightmare I'd had in the Dungeon. Throw me back to the basics, I’m sure I could make it functional.
But the guilt.
Imra sitting there in a trance…
Maybe a couple of days, at best, but she’s not going to survive out here.
That’s no good.
Exactly how we ended up here, whatever the reasons: it was clearly my own fault.
At the heart of it, I was the one who decided to play God.
There’s the selfish argument, that if Imra hadn't grabbed me and forced the entire snowball of a lie to start rolling down, we'd probably have never wound up in this mess.
True… sort of.
If I had wanted to, badly enough, I’m sure I could have escaped.
Looking back, I could have managed to find a patch of stone, tunnel my way back into the dungeon, and gone on from there. Instead, I was selfish. Being a God was too good a gig to pass up.
Now, I’ve got to take responsibility for the consequences.
I can’t really justify abandoning someone who honestly thinks I’m a deity. If I really was a God, what kind would that make me?
“Look, there’s the guy who couldn’t keep one follower alive…”
“What’s he the God of, again? Being a jerk?”
This is at the core of the Tiny Snake God Teachings.
Don’t leave people behind.
Except, you know, if they literally throw you away and tell you to run.
Or, temporarily, like, when you go and slither towards this freaky wall to try and figure out what we’re going to do next.
Man, this wall freaks me out.
Freaks me out, bad.
I know I’ve said that before, but I feel like I really ought to stress that point.
It’s abnormal, in all ways.
I’ve gotten a lot closer, but I can tell you there’s still not a single visible seam. The entire structure was probably raised up and molded together with Earth magic. Which is nuts.
My bet is a thousand years.
IF- big if, my Earth magic was cooperating, I think it would take me a thousand years to make something like this.
Hell, I’d probably come up short.
I’m not even sure how long it goes, in either direction. At this point, I’m guessing that this is a big circle. Seems like a slight curve…
Is this thing a walled city?
Seems the likely option.
Just because we haven’t seen them, I’m confident that there were people here.
Lots of people.
There’s junk, old fire pits, trash- it even smells like people, in a bad way. I’ve probably been slithering through a lot more evidence of my spiritual kin, here, than I’d really like to admit.
Plenty of stuff left out to the elements, to rot out in the sun.
Another broken wagon…
Pile of rags…
Weird looking bones, cook pits…
Someone’s shouting… orders, maybe? It’s like, drifting in, on the wind…
Where the hell are those coming from?
I don’t see anyone on the ground…
Are there people on top of that wall?
Wait a second, is that a torch? Is there someone standing guard up there?
What the hell you post someone on top of a wall this tall for? Thing’s seamless, without a single handhold anywhere! Nobody is going to try and climb that!
… That’s excessive.
Maybe we took the wrong direction.
I’m sure there’s a gate somewhere, but if this is a walled city of humans, I don’t know if the Elf and monster companion are going to fit right in.
Not like we can really turn around now, though.
I just don’t… don’t…
Instinct is acting up, for some reason.
Been awhile since I felt this.
Is it worried about the guard on top of the wall? Maybe he’s got a bow, or something?
No… that’s not it.
What’s behind me-
Fine night for a stroll beside the giant wall, don’t you think?
Now, I know what you’re thinking.
Trust me, I do.
So, for both our sakes, I’m going to be upfront about it.
From one monster, to another.
Tasty as I might look, I am the last thing you would ever want to eat.