They made their way back to the entry chamber without incident. Brandon took the opportunity to assess the damage he had sustained while fighting the lizardmen. He was covered in scrapes, scratches, and bruises, but somehow none of them seemed to be too serious. He had been flailing that cutlass around furiously in the hopes of warding off the attacks and it seemed to have actually worked, even though he didn't have much skill with the weapon.

Fabian stood at the entryway of each of the tunnels they had not traveled down in turn and inhaled deeply with his nose.

"May I ask what you're doing, sir?" Brandon asked.

"I'm sniffing, as any idiot could plainly see."

"I can see that, sir. I was just wondering why?"

"Because I've got a nose for gold. That's why. I'm trying to figure out which of these tunnels leads to the most treasure. Unfortunately it's kind of hard to tell because they all stink of pirate."

"Which one do you think Oogums would have gone down?" Brandon asked.

"How the hell should I know? Do I look like I enjoy snacking on rodents or coughing up hairballs? How would I know what makes a cat make the decisions it makes?"

"It's just, you know, that's the reason we're here. Treasure is secondary."

"Well, I have it on good authority that cats are attracted to treasure. So if we find the treasure, we find the cat. Get it?"

"Are you just making this up, sir? I thought you just said you didn't have any insight into how cats make decisions."

"Of course I'm not making it up. I said I had it on good authority and I do. Anyway, I think we should check this tunnel out. With my keen eyes I've spotted a piece of white fur stuck to the wall at about ankle height."

"You're right!" Brandon said. "I think Oogums really did go down this tunnel."

"Never doubt me, Scrote. Or my focus on the mission at hand." Fabian had been going to suggest they go down this tunnel anyway as he thought he could detect the faint metallic smell of gold. The fact that he had spotted the fur had been an unexpected bonus.

They found themselves wandering down a long gently winding corridor. There were torches lining the walls every fifteen feet or so, but otherwise nothing of note. Just stone walls and floors as far as the eye could see.

"I wonder why Oogums came down this tunnel?" Brandon asked. "It's pretty boring. I don't think there's anything here that would attract a cat's attention."

"There is a disappointing lack of treasure so far, isn't there? This is why you never send pirates ahead of you when there's a good possibility of loot. I mean, they are good for setting off the booby traps as we've learned, so I suppose it's good to send one or two, but if anything good was lying on the ground they've certainly scooped it up. But I have a feeling there's something good up ahead somewhere. Hopefully a vast chamber filled to the ceiling with gold."

"And Oogums. The cat we're looking for is hopefully there too, right?"

"Well that obviously goes without saying. Didn't I just tell you cats are attracted to treasure? I'm feeling very optimistic. Very optimistic indeed."

Something cold, wet, and sticky hit Fabian on the hand. "Did you just blow your nose on me, Scrote?"

"No, sir. Why do you ask?"

A wet blob hit the ground between them with an audible splat.

"Uh oh," Fabian said looking up toward the ceiling. "Dungeon slime."

"Excuse me, sir?" Brandon asked.

"Yeah, it's dungeon slime. Sometimes in dark confined places, ooze for some reason gains a hunger for human flesh and becomes sentient."

"Are you joking, sir?"

"I'm afraid not. Nobody knows for sure how it happens, but my theory is they were created by wizards. Stupid wizards. Anyway the slime are dumb as rocks, since they're pretty much just big balls of snot. Hungry and vicious balls of snot, but not much more than that. Unfortunately they're kind of hard to fight because, well, have you ever tried to stab mucus?"

"Can't say that I have, but it doesn't sound as if it would be an easy task."

"It's not. Heh. That's funny. It's not. It's snot. Get it?"

"Very humorous, sir. Uh, are we in some kind of danger here? That blob of slime is moving from the ceiling down the wall now."

"Oh, we're most certainly in danger. Some slimes can spit acid that will melt your face off and our weapons are kind of useless."

"I've got a handkerchief in my pocket. Will that work?" Brandon asked.

"If it were the size of a large blanket, maybe. But no, what we really need is fire. Grab one of those torches off the wall and let's burn this sucker to hell."

"I'm trying, sir, but this torch is firmly attached to the wall."

"Seriously? Come on, Scrote. You're a big strapping farm boy. Put some muscle into it."

"I'm pulling as hard as I can, sir. It won't budge."

By now the slime had reached the floor and was making its way towards them with an unsettling slurping sound. A large bubble puffed up from the front of it and then popped, emitting a noxious smell that made them both cough.

"All right, well, if you can't get the torch down, we're just going to have to find something flammable and light it. Give me your handkerchief. It just might be useful after all." Fabian took the little piece of cloth and stuck it in the torch. Unfortunately the entire thing turned to ashes in a matter of seconds.

"Damn it," Fabian said through a coughing fit. "We've got the right idea, but we're going to need something bigger."

"How about your cloak?" Brandon asked. "It's already ripped. I could tear the rest of it right off you."

"We're not touching my cloak. I went to great lengths to acquire this and I'm not losing it to a stupid ball of slime."

Another bubble popped and toxic fumes filled the air, causing them both to cough even harder. The slime continued its slow steady advance towards them.

"I'm really sorry, sir, but I don't think we have a choice here." He grabbed the end of Fabian's cloak with both hands and pulled down sharply. The bottom three quarters of the cloak ripped away completely leaving only a short strip of cloth tied around Fabian's neck.

Brandon stuck the edge of the cloak into the torch until it ignited. Then he turned around and whipped the cloak at the slime. It caught fire and began to boil away giving off a thick black smoke that caused them both to cough so hard they blacked out.

They laid on the ground for several minutes before the smoke cleared enough for them to breathe easily and they woke up.

"Damn it, Scrote. You owe me a new cloak. It's definitely coming out of your salary."

"At least we didn't get eaten by a giant ball of slime."

"That was never going to happen," Fabian said as he pulled himself to his feet. "The great Fabian is not going to be taken down by somebody's runny nose. Can you imagine the indignity? No, it's going to take something like a dragon to bring me down. One dragon probably isn't enough to do it, now that I think about it. More like an army of dragons. And they're going to be sorry they picked a fight with me."

"Do you think that slime could have gotten Oogums? Or my crew?"

"It's possible. Given enough time that stuff can dissolve bones. But it takes a while. And the fact that it was hungry enough to try to attack us means it probably hadn't eaten in some time. It probably just oozed out of some crack in the ceiling right while we happened to be passing by. It was just a matter of bad timing really."

"If it's all the same to you, do you mind if we get moving on down this corridor again?" Brandon asked.

"Of course we're going to start moving. Do you think I want to spend my life just standing in some empty hallway? We're never going to find anything good if we don't go looking for it. That's the problem with your generation. You're all a bunch of loafers who just want to stand around all the time not doing anything."

"With all due respect, I was the one who suggested we start moving again."

"As if I wasn't about to suggest that. Stop trying to take credit for the plans of your superiors, Scrote. It's an off putting quality. Now let's go."

The corridor continued to wind onward without anything of interest to attract their attention. They walked for several minutes in silence.

"This hallway is dumb," Fabian said at last. "Someone should hang up a painting or something. Liven the place up a little bit. Well, the duller the hallway, the better destination it must be leading to, right?"

"If you say so, sir," Brandon said. "Is it just me or does it smell not so fresh around here?"

"That's the smell of a large treasure trove. You're young and dumb so you haven't learned to appreciate the finer things in life yet. It's a bit of an acquired taste. Or an acquired smell, I suppose."

"It really doesn't smell very good, sir."

"Okay, I will concede there's a hint of funk in the air. Also the ground has gotten a little slick. I'm sure that's nothing to be concerned about."

A pipe from overhead suddenly dumped a large quantity of rancid liquid all over Fabian.

"Are we getting attacked by another dungeon slime, sir?"

"No," Fabian gagged as he spat out the foul water that had filled his mouth. "I'm pretty sure now we're in a sewer." He retched up the contents of his stomach and reached for his cloak to wipe off his face, but unfortunately it wasn't there. He made a mental note to make Scrote buy him two cloaks. It was always nice to have a spare.

"Do most people keep treasure in sewers?" Brandon asked.

"No. No they don't. You bring up a great point, Scrote. Perhaps we should turn around and investigate one of the other tunnels."

"But doesn't the evidence seem to highly suggest that Oogums came this way?"

"Yeah, cats are attracted to gross things like dead rodents and fish and apparently raw sewage."

"And treasure, right?"

"Sure. I suppose getting this cat is still the easiest buck we're likely to make here, but that countess is going to have to shell out a lot more than fifty shillings if she wants her precious furball back. This has been a lot of work!"

"Is that a doorway up ahead, sir?"

Fabian squinted his eyes and looked down the tunnel. "I do believe it is. With any luck our elusive feline friend will be hanging out behind it. Hey, do you hear some sort of rumbling sound?"

Another pipe overhead suddenly let loose dumping gallons of liquid all over Fabian. "When we write the chronicles of my numerous brave adventures, we're leaving this part out. You got that, Scrote?"

"Yes, sir."

"All right. Let's go see what's behind this doorway."