The road to the farmstead seemed to stretch on forever, and Eldric was sure this road had been here for centuries. It was a dull, dusty path that led to nothing but a very underwhelming field full of crops. If his day could get any worse, it would involve trudging through this field, covered in slime, wondering if his life was destined to be this slow and agonizing.
He kicked another rock down the road, the satisfying clink as it bounced off a nearby tree offering a brief moment of solace. His staff tapped against the ground, barely making a sound, as his thoughts spiraled.
"If only I had some proper weed right now," he muttered, gazing at the overcast sky. "The kind that makes dragons dance in the smoke and elves weep at its beauty. Just the good stuff, y'know? The one that makes you think deep thoughts—like, why does bread always land butter-side down, and do cows believe in gravity?"
He let out a contented sigh, letting his imagination run wild. "Maybe I could convince the dwarves to make me a proper pipe. Magic-enhanced, of course—no tar, no bad lungs, just pure, mystical bliss. Hmmm... I'd like to see a pipe that could summon entire forests with a puff, make dragons sing, and leave me in the company of beautiful sorceresses, all from one exhale. But noooooo..." He slapped his staff against the road. "Here I am in this bloody medieval setting without so much as a whiff of that good smoke or even just plain good'ol entertainment. Where's the justice in that?"
He sighed dramatically, trudging forward in a perfect mockery of a man in the depths of despair. And just as he was beginning to drift off into another self-pitying monologue, the familiar sound of frantic shouting broke through the fog of his thoughts.
"Sir! Finally, someone came! We've been waiting for help with the slime infestation—please help us!"
The shout rang out like a battle cry. Eldric froze mid-step, rolling his eyes before turning to see a farmhand, red-faced and panting like he'd just sprinted the length of the kingdom.
"Oh for the love of..." Eldric muttered, rubbing his temples. "Calm down, lad. No need to act like it's the apocalypse."
He gave the boy a nonchalant wave with his staff. "Now, where are these 'terrible' slimes, hm? Show me where this nightmarish creatures are."
The farmhand's eyes were wide, his voice frantic. "There, sir! Please hurry—we can't afford to lose our crops! Winter's coming, and we can't farm during the frost!"
"Alright, alright," Eldric said, patting the boy on the shoulder with the grace of a parent humoring their child. "No need to cry about it. I'll handle it."
As they made their way toward the field, Eldric glanced over the desolate landscape of half-dissolved crops, the ground slick with a sticky, glistening trail of slime. Dozens of the offending yet oddly harmless looking creatures squelched along, their gelatinous bodies leaving a shiny trail as they gleefully munched on the crops.
Eldric surveyed the scene with a furrowed brow, unimpressed. "Really? This is your grand slime problem? What next, militant mushrooms? A swarm of angry daisies?" He raised his staff, ready to obliterate them all with a swift spell of fiery retribution.
But then, something caught his eye.
In the midst of the slime-covered soil, a small green sprout pushed its way up from the muck, glowing faintly. Eldric's curiosity piqued, and with all the grace of an eccentric scholar uncovering a long-lost secret, he crouched down and began brushing away the surrounding slime.
The sprout pulsed with an otherworldly energy as Eldric uncovered it. His eyes widened in disbelief as the faint glow seemed to intensify.
"Wait... what?" he whispered, his heart suddenly racing with excitement. He was so close—too close—his fingers hovering just above the sprout as if it might vanish into the ether if he so much as breathed wrong. The moment he plucked it from the earth, a divine light seemed to bathe the field in golden radiance..
The moment he held it up, sunlight seemed to magnify, casting a warm halo around the plant. In the distance, Eldric swore he could hear an angelic choir. 🎶AHHHHHHHH🎶
His heart raced as he sniffed it, his eyes widening in pure, unfiltered glee as he held the sprout aloft, like a treasure discovered in the bowels of a forgotten temple. His voice wavered, barely containing his excitement. "No... way," he whispered as he sniffed again, this time trembling. "It can't be. But it is! It's... it's pipeweed!!!"
The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and Eldric's glee surged like wildfire. "IT'S A BLOODY PIPEWEED!!"
'THIS CREATURE'S EAT TRASH AND POOP TREASURE?!?'
Eldric knelt before the other glowing sprouts, his hands trembling with excitement, he felt an overwhelming surge of emotion. The holy grail of his existence. The pipeweed.
Eldric without thinking, dropped to his knees on the slime-slicked ground. He had to—he simply had to—give thanks.
His eyes shut tight in reverence, his lips moving in a frantic prayer to any deity who might be listening.
"Oh great deity of everything good, green and... smoky," Eldric began, his voice rising in fervor, "I thank thee for these most wondrous gifts! Let it be known throughout the lands that I, Eldric the Lost, have received the finest of blessings! A gift so pure, so transcendent, it could only come from the divine. These... these gifts of the gods!"
He laughed manically, twirling the sprout in his hand like a prize. "These slimes are not pests! No, no! They're treasure!! They're—(gasps)—miracles!"
The farmhand stared at him, utterly confused. "Uh... sir? You mean the slimes that are... destroying our crops?"
Eldric turned, his wild manic eyes fixing on the farmhand like a mad prophet. "Destroying?! DESTROYING?! You fool! These slimes are cultivating!! These little beauties are nature's answer to every rastafarian's dream! Don't you see?!"
The farmhand blinked, clearly lost. "See what, sir?"
Eldric's voice dropped to a near-whisper as he cradled the pipeweed plant with reverence. "You wouldn't understand, lad. It's beyond your... agricultural comprehension."
"But—"
"Silence!" Eldric snapped, his face suddenly deadly serious as he clutched the plant to his chest like it was the most precious thing in the world. "I'll handle this. You just step back and... don't touch anything."
He turned dramatically toward the field, and with a sudden flourish of his staff, he bellowed, "I CAST!! MASS SHRINKAGE!!"
With a burst of light, every slime in the field shrank down to the size of marbles, their gooey bodies now little more than charming, squishy balls of potential. Eldric's grin was like Cheshire cat's if it was greedy as he whipped out an enchanted pouch from his robes.
"Come to Daddy, my gooey little miracle workers!" he crooned, scooping the now-microscopic slimes into the pouch with gleeful abandon. "You're mine now. No more crops for you—oh no. I'll feed you the best trash in the land, and in return…" His grin widened and his eyes gleaming with manic greed. "You'll give me all the good stuff. ALL. OF. IT!" Before taking out another small pouch and just like a mad man that found an oasis in the desert he ran around chaotically, plucking all the pipeweed he could see. "mine, mine, oh most definitely mine!!" He yelled with his mouth barely keeping his drool, and after storing everything he finally calmed down.
Eldric's triumphant laughter echoed through the field as he turned to leave, like a madman finally sated. The farmhands were left in stunned silence.
"...Did we just get scammed?" one of them whispered quietly.
"Probably," another muttered, scratching his head.
Before anyone could say more, Eldric reappeared out of nowhere, causing the group to jump in alarm. He held up a piece of parchment and a quill with a smug smirk.
"Oh, before I forget," he said, voice dripping with satisfaction. "Stamp here, please. It's just bureaucracy, you know—I can't go back to the guild without proper confirmation of my task completion. That's just how the world works."
As the farmhands stared at him, wondering how they'd gotten roped into yet another bizarre encounter, Eldric waved them off with a flippant hand after receiving the stamp. "I'll be off now. Enjoy your... newly transformed, future-proof farm, lads. And remember—magic ain't free."
He turned, walking off into the horizon with the exaggerated swagger of a man who had just literally changed the course of history—or at least his own life.
And behind him, the farmhands stared blankly, unsure of what just happened, but certain of one thing: they were not about to question it. They were probably still getting scammed, but at least their crops were safe—for now.