by Paul Bellow
“Do you want me to translate?” Tabby asked. “It looks like dwarven.”
I stared down at the ugliest cat in the history of felines.
“You can read dwarven?” I asked.
“Long story, but yeah, I recognize the script. To the left is Dwarven Valhalla, a supposedly secret level. And to our right is the safest way off this level.”
“You’re something else,” I said, shaking my head. “We should definitely hit up Dwarven Valhalla. Let’s go.”
“Hold on a minute,” she said. “It’s too dangerous. We shouldn’t get distracted.”
“You worry too much,” I said.
“Or maybe you don’t worry enough.”
“Maybe, but this is my strongest character yet. We’re going to make it all the way to the end if Regina doesn’t cheat and attack us early.”
I hadn’t seen her in the role of the Wizard of Yendro since she killed me in the biodome on dungeon level twenty of my run as a ranger character. If and when she appeared, I’d deal with her. Until then, I needed to keep power leveling and finding the most epic loot available.
“We need better equipment,” I said. “We’re going to Dwarven Valhalla.”
Tabby sighed then stood, her tail sticking straight up in the air.
“Fine,” she said. “Let’s get it over with already.”
As we walked down the left hallway, I wondered about the new zone. Would it be full of Viking dwarves? Or dwarven Vikings? Maybe neither? Only one way to find out. I kept moving forward, sword and back-up wand at the ready.
The hallway ended at a round, stone door. Strange runes had been carved into the rock in an arch over the top. I examined the mysterious letters.
“Can you read it?” I asked.
“No,” Tabby said. “It’s an unknown language. We should leave.”
“Live a little,” I said, reaching for the brass handle of the massive door.
I struggled, but it opened inward with a grinding sound. On the other side, I saw a tunnel carved from stone leading off into the distance. Torches in sconces lined either side.
“At least it’s lit,” I said as I turned off the lantern then stuffed it in my Runed Backpack of Holding. “Do you hear music? And laughing?”
“Have you not seen the size of my ears?” Tabby asked with a bit of extra snark. “It’s a celebration in Valhalla. Big surprise. We should go.”
I brushed her brashness aside and took a few tentative steps forward. The smoothly polished floor, walls, and ceiling looked different than the rest of the dungeon somehow. Maybe Tabby’s right, and we should go.
“Come on,” my cat companion said, surprising me as she strutted forward like she owned the entire dungeon. “I smell catnip nearby.”
I grinned. On the very first level of the dungeon, I’d discovered my feline companion’s obsession with catnip. She’d led us on a few side-quests in search of it.
“Slow down, Tabby. We need to be smart,” I said, switching to mind-speak.
“You need to hurry up,” she replied. “There’s definitely catnip.”
I sighed, ready to ditch the cat and go off on my own. The tunnel intersected with yet another. Tabby followed the voices. Is that singing? Viking war chants? Intrigued, I followed the hairless Siamese cat deeper into Dwarven Valhalla.
As we reached the end of the tunnel, I saw a wide-open space at the end, a grand hall with ceilings thirty-feet high. My eyes and mind struggled to take in all the sensory data. The difference from the rest of the dungeon struck me again.
“I’ll be back,” Tabby said as she pranced across the room.
What’s she doing? I wondered as I stopped at the entrance. Several dozen dwarves with as many different skin tones stood around, casually talking to each other while dressed in full battle gear. I watched Tabby high-step across the beautiful mosaic tiled floor toward the far side of the room.
“Hey, It’s a rat,” a dwarf with a yellow mohawk and reddish-brown skin said.
He stood then threw a hatchet at Tabby. Though old and grouchy, she could move when necessary. I watched as she leaped into the air, dodging the axe completely, then continued walking as if nothing had happened.
Several other dwarves burst into laughter as the one who’d thrown the weapon became enraged. As he stomped across the floor and fetched his hatchet, I stepped forward.
“Hello,” I shouted, my voice echoing in the vast hall carved from stone.
The laughing stopped as everyone turned their attention to me. A couple of the dwarves readied their weapons, but none of them stepped forward. I put my sword away.
“Not looking for trouble,” I said, raising my hands. “My cat ran off. I’ll get her, and we’ll be on our way.”
The dwarves looked at one another then burst into another round of laughter. I lowered my arms as a thin, tan-skinned dwarf with dark brown hair walked over. She smiled, raising a hand in greeting. Her beard went down to her knees. I kept my eyes on hers.
“Hello,” I said again. “Sorry to barge in, but my pet smelled catnip, and, well, you know felines and their catnip.”
“I do,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. Here at Valhalla, we don’t rush into killing our prey. Besides, dwarves like me would storm the toughest fort for fresh ale, so I understand the strong desire for catnip and other such delicacies in life.”
She smiled, stroking her beard. I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not.
“What brings you to Valhalla?” she asked.
This is so unlike any roguelike game I’ve ever played.
“Catnip,” I said. “Remember?”
“No, I mean, what really brings you here? Looking for a piece of armor or a weapon from one of us. Looks like you use a sword. We’re not big on swords. Have you been in the roguelike long?”
“I didn’t come to loot,” I said defensively. “Wait, are you a player?”
She smiled and nodded while asking, “Aren’t we all in some way?”
“Don’t listen to her, she’s nuts!” another dwarf shouted.
The female dwarf raised her jewel-encrusted battle-axe with both hands.
“Whoa,” I said, backing up. “Hold on a minute.”
“Don’t worry boys,” she yelled. “I’ve got this one.”
Yelling like a maniac, she rushed forward.
I dodged to the left, causing her to miss.
She grinned as I pulled my sword.
“That’s the spirit,” she said. “Come to steal all our beautiful dwarven treasures, have you? Time for you to start over from the beginning!”
She screamed and rushed forward, swinging her thick, heavy axe.
Astrid DECIMATES you for 40 damage.
You have [402/442] health remaining.
Good thing I’m a bit of a tank this time.
I battled her as the other dwarves ignored us completely.
Your slash MAULS Astrid for 29 damage.
Your slash DECIMATES Astrid for 37 damage.
Astrid DEVASTATES you for 45 damage.
You have [357/442] health remaining.
Your pierce WOUNDS Astrid for 18 damage.
Your slash DEVASTATES Astrid for 44 damage.
Astrid MAIMS you for 50 damage.
You have [307/442] health remaining.
Your slash INJURES Astrid for 14 damage.
Your slash DECIMATES Astrid for 32 damage.
Astrid is dead!
Combat is Over!
You get +2,000 xp.
You have [71,500/75,000] xp
Breathing heavy, I turned to the center of the great hall. The other dwarves were still drinking, talking, and acting like nothing was going on.
“It’s weird, huh?” Tabby asked as she strolled up. “Strange place, man. I told you we shouldn’t come to this area of the dungeon.”
“What do you know that you’re not telling me?” I asked.
“Nothing, Alex. I’ve got some catnip now. We should go.”
“I just
killed a dwarf, and nobody seems to care!” I shouted.
The rest of the room went silent. I looked up and saw all the other dwarves staring in my direction. Adrenaline rushed through my body. Could I take all of them at once? I crouched, ready to battle. Tabby snickered. Something about a snickering cat is unsettling to everyone nearby. One of the other dwarves, both hands raised, stepped forward.
“Well met,” he said as he walked closer. “I see you’ve taken out Astrid. No one really liked her, so it’s all good.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, keeping my sword up.
“Yeah,” he said, stopping. “You’re new to the roguelike, aren’t you? I bet your companion told you to stay away from this part of the dungeon.”
He grinned, his pale skin contrasting with his braided red hair.
“Yeah,” I said, glancing down at Tabby.
“We’ve got doozies of stories of about some of the worst companions,” he said then chuckled. “A hairless cat craving catnip is nothing. You’ve got it eas, kid. I bet you’ve only played a couple dozen characters, right?”
“A few,” I said, straightening my posture.
Over his shoulder, I saw Astrid running back into the great hall.
“I’ll kill you, newbie!” she screamed.
“Whoa,” I said. “She was dead. Doesn’t she have to start over at the beginning?”
“Custom respawn,” the ginger dwarf replied. “We’ve hacked the code a bit to make sure we don’t have to start over at the beginning every time. Valhalla is a special place.I bet you’re already scared out of your mind. How many times have you played so far?”
“Only a handful,” I admitted.
“That explains it,” he said.
Smiling, he turned and said, “Calm down, Astrid.”
The female dwarf lowered her battle-axe and slowed, stopping a few feet away.
“Well met,” she said, nodding her head at me. “Good fight. What’s your name?”
“Alex,” I said. “You meant my real name, right?”
“Not really, but you can tell a lot about a player by how they answer that question,” she said.
I nodded.
“Sorry about killing you earlier. My instincts kicked in, and, well…”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, smiling and stroking her long, thick beard. “We’ve conquered death here in the roguelike. That’s why we’re staying in here.”
“She likes you,” the red-haired dwarf said. “My name’s Alfie.”
“Nice to meet both of you.” I put my sword away. “What is this place exactly?”
I glanced around, once again admiring the workmanship.
“Dwarven Valhalla!” Alfie said in a thunderous voice.
“Valhalla forever!” the others in the background shouted.
I turned to Astrid as she started talking.
“The game’s rigged, and we’re never going to get out, so we built this place inside the roguelike. Everyone except the Wizard of Yendro can enter Valhalla and chill. The AI for the roguelike is a bit more primitive, so we’ve been able to do a lot to keep it out.”
“I’ll be winning the game and getting out,” I said.
Alfie and Astrid both laughed.
“Good luck with that one,” he said.
Astrid frowned and turned to look at him.
“Leave him alone,” she said. “You were the same way when you first came in here.”
“She’s right,” another dwarf said as he walked up.
His fair blond hair contrasted with his dark blue skin.
“Do you have news of the game outside of the roguelike?” he asked, stopping beside Alfie. “Name’s Borg, by the way.”
“He’s obsessed with getting out of the Tower of Gates,” Astrid said.
“Aren’t we all?” Alfie replied.
“We should all be that way,” I said. “We need to find a way out. Staying here in the roguelike doesn’t help anyone.”
“There’s not even a way out of this roguelike, let alone the Tower of Gates” Borg said. “Did you know there’s now more levels on the bottom of the dungeon? The damn thing keeps expanding.”
“I’ve not made it down that far,” I admitted.
“He’s not the brightest person I’ve ever met,” Tabby said.
“Go get some more catnip,” I snapped.
She slowly turned and did just that as if it was her idea all along.
“You’ve got a good companion,” Astrid said while watching Tabby walk away. “I turned that feature off when it started getting weird.”
“Wait, you can turn the companion feature off?” I asked.
Astrid smiled and nodded.
“What’s the news on finding a way out of the Tower of Gates?” Borg asked. “We don’t know exactly how long we’ve been in here because time is such a wibbly-wobbly thing, but is there any news about getting out?”
“No one’s found a way out of the Tower of Gates yet,” I said. “but that doesn’t mean we won’t find one.”
Borg hung his head, staring at the random mosaic pattern on the floor.
“We heard a rumor some new kid is in the game accidentally,” he said. “He’s a kid of one of the designers or something, and I thought be might’ve found a way out.”
“I’ve heard of them, but I haven’t run into them personally,” I said. “Getting back out of the roguelike is my priority now.”
“How did you find this place, anyway?” Alfie asked, raising an eyebrow. “We thought we’d hidden it from the roguelike AI, but if random new players are finding it, something must be wrong.”
“Yeah,” Astrid added. “We hid the entrance well.”
“It just showed up,” I said, shrugging. “Wasn’t hard to find at all.”
Alfie turned to Borg. The older dwarf frowned.
“You need to go,” Astrid said. “The AI is using you to find us.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
Alfie pushed me toward the hallway leading to the massive door I had entered through.
“No time to explain,” he said. “You need to leave.”
“Hold on,” another dwarf said, walking over with a war hammer.
“We call this Thor’s Hammer,” he said then smiled as he presented it. “The original Thor, not the comic book one.”
“You can’t give him that yet,” Borg snapped. “It’s not been thoroughly tested yet.”
“A little field-testing will be good,” the new dwarf said. “Here, take it.”
I took the war hammer. The weapon felt light in my hands.
You get Thor’s Hammer of Lightning
“Does it shoot lightning?” I asked.
“Yes,” Borg said. “You need to go. Now.”
“Look up the stats,” the new dwarf said as Alfie pushed me toward the entrance of the great hall.
“Follow the tunnel until you get back to the main dungeon,” Alfie said. “Hurry up.”
“I’m going,” I said. “Stop pushing me.”
Alfie ran around to my front and grabbed my hand, pulling me.
“Better?” he asked in a sarcastic tone. “We need to get you out of here…”
He stopped at the massive door at the end of the hallway.
“Don’t dally, and don’t look back,” he said. “We need to move Valhalla. Don’t bother trying to find us. We’ll come out of the roguelike when we feel like it. Until then, we’ve got a huge world of our own we’ve built.”
I cocked my head to the side, confused as ever.
“No time to explain,” Alfie said. “Good to meet you. And good luck on your mission.”
He broke into laughter as he waved. I walked down the tunnel leading back to the main dungeon. Tabby ran past me. I’d never seen her move so fast.
“Hurry, Alex,” she yelled, pulling even further away.
I ran after the hairless cat. When I reached the end of the Valhalla zone, a loud boom in the distance shook the entire dungeon.
“Come on.” Tabby ran back to the normal section of level eighteen. “We need to go.”
“I’m going as fast as I can,” I said between labored breaths.
We reached the non-dwarven dungeon just in time. Another loud popping noise thundered through the room we were in. The tunnel to Dwarven Valhalla disappeared.
I put a hand on a knee, leaning over to catch my breath. Thor’s Hammer of Lightning, I thought as I examined the weapon more closely.
It was a nice find that would help me get past level twenty and beyond. The others might not have defeated the dungeon, but I would.
An epic weapon would help. I looked up the stats.
Thor’s Hammer of Lightning (+80%,+20,3d30) – Shoots chain lightning 3x day.
“You’re not invulnerable now,” Tabby said.
The cat was right, but I felt that way as I stood up straight, smiling.
“I know that look.” Tabby shook her hairless head. “You’re going to get us killed.”
“Not until we kill the Wizard of Yendro,” I said.
Possibly my friend or not, I wanted to beat the roguelike and return to the Tower of Gates. This orc samurai run was the one—the character who would allow me to beat her. I was sure of it.
()xxxx[:::: Chapter 8 ::::>
Master of Min / Max
You are on level 20 (-1000’)
You are a Level 21 Orc Samurai.
You are levitating in the air. How is the weather up there?
You feel good.
I smiled as I reached the bottom of the stairs. Boss killing time.
Tabby sauntered down after me, a look of displeasure on her face.
“It’s so cold down here,” she complained. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this level.”
“You’re just mad you’re out of catnip.” I said then smirked.
Her dark outlook on life made it easier for me to stay positive somehow. My smile faded as I concentrated on the dark, dank tunnel leading away from the staircase. I was ready to run back up the stairs if I encountered anything. Some players frowned on stair-dancing, but if it kept you alive for another level, why not use the tactic? The empty tunnel stretched off into the distance.