I, an innocent young Viking, had just defeated the Elder, and was on my way to a nearby swamp biome, with my swamp key. Unbeknownst to me, the path from my base to the swamp borders the tiniest section of plains. Feeling confident, in my fully upgraded copper armour, I sprint for my life past this tiny yellow pixel on my map, and survive. After a harrowing first time in the swamp, I start to return, wiser, muddier, and much wetter, with an inventory full of scrap iron. However, on the return trip, I hear a buzzing noise. Having spent some time on this sub, I bravely panic, scoffing my cooked meat, raspberry, honey and minor healing mead. Somehow, I survive this first encounter with the unholy deathsquito, and return proudly with a needle as a trophy of conquest. Many trips later, I had become cocky about these flying nuisances, emboldened with my sausage, low level iron gear, and my medium healing mead. I felt like I could swat them out of the air without a care in the world. Then, in some malicious, karmic act of vengeance, the Odin sent a singular green goblin after me. Now I hadn’t heard nearly as much about Fulings, and foolishly thought I could meet one in mortal combat.
How foolish I was.
It took me three attempts to retrieve my property, which was guarded by this monstrous, diminutive creature. Ever since, I have avoided Fulings at all costs. There is no thought of confrontation, and I break out in sweat at the thought. After hearing so many stories of the baneful Deathsquito, I was completely unprepared for the significantly more intimidating (in my mind at least) Fuling