Slimenian Decay

In days long past, it is said that the Slimenian people were nearly destroyed. A terrible foe from across the ocean sacked Slimenia, and scattered the surviving Slimenians across the land like dust in the wind. One slime, according to this legend-history, had the strength to not only recover his people and defeat his foes, but to bind foes and friends alike beneath him as subjects. He was the first Slime Emperor, ruling over all Slimenia as a reputedly benevolent tyrant.

But that was generations ago. Now we, the last free slimes of Slimenia - along with our elderly guide, the venerable Dr. Cid - undertake a desperate quest. In the time since the founding of the Empire, we have cowered in our hole on the far side of the desolate Krak Mountain. But the flight of Dr. Cid, the Emperor's chief of technology and forbidden mechanisms, caught our attention. Our leader, far bolder than his father before him, persuaded us to action, and we snatched the good Doctor out of the hands of his pursuers.

In our hidden base, he told us many secrets: of the true founding of the Empire, established on the foundation of monstrous slavery. Of the freedoms our ancestors had, and that Cid had watched slowly slip away. Of the old King before his untimely death, with the rest of the royal family, in a freak meteor strike. And he told us of the great Monster Tanks of olden times, the weapons of the war that created the Empire. The two most powerful tanks, the great Schliemann Tank and Schwartzmann Tank, were retained for use in the Emperor's personal guard. The others had been sunk offshore - but, Cid told us, he knew of one that was still accessible, and could be salvaged.

We traveled there, wandering dangerously close to the golem mines in the northeast and the ghettos of the supernaturals, driven nearly to extinction under the Emperors' reign. We found the ruins of the time-worn tank peering above the waves; once it must have resembled a great tree, taller than a score of pines, but now its bright colours were dimmed all to gray, its cannon clogged with sand and salt or broken off entirely by the ceaseless waves.

This, Cid told us, was our best prospect. This was our best hope to free Slimenia! He set to work at once with an enthusiasm undimmed by his years, co-opting us as needed - fetch this part, lift this gear, pull this rope. Slowly, we dragged the tank onto the beach (aided by a tremendous pulley manufactured by Cid's tireless instruction), and began to repair the most essential components - the treads.

We had hoped, somehow, that we would escape detection while we made repairs. We were wrong. Within two weeks, the secret police had noticed our strange purchases at market, where we went to get food and mechanical supplies. (You may think us foolish for visiting town while fugitive from the law - but even a slime must eat.) They sent armoured knights supported by slime conscripts to take us either into custody or the grave.

They did not anticipate that we would have a titanic tank at our command. The treads smashed them. Not one escaped.

The empire was slow and complacent. It had been over a decade since last they saw a true threat. They delayed for another week, waiting on their troops' return, then sent a swift-flying jinxlet to see what had become of them. The jinxlet didn't find us, as we'd driven the tank away from the short battle - so it was a full fortnight before other scouts were sent out to try to find the cause of the disappearing soldiers. When we were discovered at last - our efforts to shoot the fleeing scout down with our newly operational cannon in vain- the Empire finally woke up. The Emperor himself was informed, and he ordered the great Schliemann Tank dispatched to destroy us, with the Schwartzmann Tank held in reserve.

All in all, we'd been given one and a half months to repair our tank. One and a half month, until the Emperor's Own were dispatched to crush us.

They would regret it.

To be continued.