Yeah, given the vast variety of sources from which fantasy monsters, and their names, are drawn, this sort of dangerous misunderstanding is a serious risk. ._.
One of the two types of black pudding you can find in a fantasy world is, as Si’ri was so kind to point out, a vicious, corrosive ooze. Driven by unquenchable hunger, this Lovecraftian terror prowls (slowly) caves and dungeons in search of prey to absorb into the shapeless mass of its body and horrifically dissolve. In short, a creature you would wish to avoid in your worst nightmares…of course, your worst nightmares weren’t that bad if they gave you a choice of avoiding things…
Naturally, at the level which K’ip has reached in the meantime, that sort of amorphous menace wouldn’t be quite that terrifying anymore. Unfortunately, there is a different, much more nightmarish type of black pudding. Rather than a bubbling goo, this type of black pudding is a sausage. Made in BRITAIN! O_O!! Traditional British food is generally considered suitable for appearances in a fantasy world, since it never really left the dark ages. Some might even claim it was a big part of what made the dark ages so dark in the first place.
Unlike the other, more harmless black pudding, this other type does not absorb you into its body to horrifically dissolve you. Rather, it gets absorbed into your body…before horifically dissolving you from the inside. O_O And K’ip is particularly suspectible to that roundabout way of attack, since cats just aren’t good at not eating things.* If he wouldn’t have hit points to spare, at this stage, he might well not have survived this random encounter.
Si’ri wasn’t terribly helpful today, mostly thanks to looking things up in the wrong book. She does have a book on British cuisine, but since it tries to bite anyone who reads it and also constantly wails and screams in an unearthly voice, she’s keeping it safely away from the rest – between her copies of the Necronomicon and The King in Yellow, in the sealed cellar of her (extra-dimensional) library.
She does some good, though, by keeping K’ip’s long hair out of the way while he…uh…appreciates… his British food. She’d be a pretty good wingman for a night about town, I guess. Which doesn’t surprise, since she’s a wing-person to begin with…
More on Mon…uh, Thursday.
*Exception: things that are good for them, and on which their owner spent a lot of money.
Mmm, tasty, tasty blood!
I was going to say that it’s less tasty in that congealed form, but that would make me sound rather like a vampire…