Mordecai was looking between me and Donut.
“Yeah, kid. You’ll want to give your cat that biscuit right now while you’re still in the guild.”
“What does it do?” I asked. I pulled it out of my inventory. It looked like a cat treat. It was small, smaller than my fingernail, brown, hard, and round with a crumbly texture. I doubted I’d be able to get Donut to eat it. While the cat was always shoving her face with food, Bea insisted on giving her the wet stuff even though it got all over her face. Donut turned her nose up at most everything else.
I examined the treat’s attributes.
Enhanced Pet Biscuit.
So, it looks like a regular pet biscuit. It’s not.
Feed to your pet at your own risk. What’s the worst that can happen?
“Uh, what does it do?” I asked a second time.
“The effects vary,” he said. “Regular Biscuits feed pet-based classes for a full day. The pets find them delicious. They smell them, and they’ll just gobble them up. So make sure you only pull one out at a time. Enhanced treats have over 100 different possible effects. Half of them are good. The rest are… neutral… or decidedly bad. But if there’s a bad outcome, your pet won’t attack you if you feed them the treat while you’re in a safe zone. Your pet will be teleported outside to a random place within a square mile of here. If you feed it to her while you’re out on crawl, and she transforms into a toothed fleshbutcher, you’re pretty much fucked. So you should definitely do it now. Either that or save it to sell later. It’s worth a couple thousand gold.”
Shit. I’d been avoiding thinking about this until now, but what could I do? Donut was a damn cat. It wasn’t like she was a mastiff or anything, some sort of pet I could use as protection. Even if I could get her to follow me in the first place, she’d be more a liability than anything.
I felt an obligation to her. I was all she had left in the world. It wasn’t logical, I knew. But if I could sell this tiny little treat for a lot of money, I could buy some really useful items. Like shoes and pants.
I rolled the cat treat in my fingers. As awful as it was, it would be best to…
“Ow!” I cried as Donut leaped up and ate the treat right from my hand.
Splat! The moment the cat hit the ground, she was transformed into a wet mess of flesh. She splattered like a hunk of hairy, jellied water.
“Donut!” I cried. “What the hell happened to my cat?”
Waiting… Waiting… appeared over the quivering, shaggy mass.
“Hmm,” Mordecai said, coming forward to poke at the blob with his foot. It wiggled. “Transformation. Your creature is being changed somehow. It didn’t teleport away, so it’s not considered a negative result. Looks like we’ll have to wait. I’ve seen this before a few times. It won’t be long. Maybe five to ten minutes.”
6
As we waited for my mutant cat to emerge from her blob, I examined my other loot. The fingerless gloves went onto my hands. Of the two weapons, I liked the feel of the cudgel more than that of the poker, which felt like it would bend and break the moment I hit something with it. I examined the cudgel’s properties. The game show host AI described it using a caveman voice.
Toad Cudgel
Big stick for bonking. Bonk toad. Bonk mob. Bonk girlfriend and drag back to cave by hair.
I wondered if the metal pot was still out there. It’d be better than this bullshit.
I placed my hand on the symbol branded onto my jacket. An infobox popped up.
Goblin Pass.
It’s a tattoo! On your forearm! Now you’ll never get a good job!
Note: Pass tattoos cannot be hidden unless you purchase a coverup sleeve. Will show through any armor you may wear.
Removes automatic goblin hostility. Allows for free passage through goblin-controlled territory in the dungeon. Warning: holding a Goblin Pass will cause natural goblin enemies, such as fairy-class creatures, to deal 20% more damage against you. Still, it looks kinda badass.
I grumbled that the system didn’t give me a choice. It just burned it right onto me. I didn’t have any tattoos, and I’d never really wanted one. Most everyone I knew had plenty, but I’d never liked the idea. My old man had been covered in them, and it wasn’t ever something I associated with being cool.
The black, leathery, and hooded nightgaunt cloak weighed almost nothing. It appeared to be made from the wing of some sort of demon creature. The skin was stretched between rows of long, body-length fingerbones. When I put the hood up, I noticed it had pointed ear things on either side.
Enchanted Nightgaunt Cloak of Stoutness.
The wearer of this cloak gains +4 to Constitution and becomes resistant to poison and ice-based attacks. In addition, the cloak adds Anti-Piercing resistance to all worn armor. It also makes you look like a dollar store Batman. Warning: if a Nightgaunt spies you wearing this, they probably won’t be too happy with you.
“This is an extremely valuable cloak,” Mordecai said. “But the shirt is better. Much better.”
Enchanted Trollskin Shirt of Pummeling.
The wearer of this shirt gains +7 to the Regeneration skill. In addition, all melee-based damage debuffs such as Stun, Knockback, Disarm, and Out-of-Breath are negated. The shirt is also quite stylish. Maybe a little too stylish. Unlike most monster-skin apparel items, this shirt will not grant a negative reaction amongst trolls. In fact, lady trolls might just want to haul you away for some one-on-one time if they see you in this.
“That shirt is one of the best under-armor garments for tanking,” Mordecai said. “A level-seven regeneration skill means you’re back to full health pretty quickly after taking damage. In as little as two minutes. Finding it was a lucky break. This is something that would be in a Platinum or Legendary box.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I said. I pulled off my jacket and slipped the short-sleeved shirt on. It felt cool to the touch and form-fitted to my skin. A couple notifications appeared. I put the leather jacket back on and then added the cloak. I felt a quick rush of power course through me as my constitution rose from five to nine.
New achievement! Loot!
You’re wearing something you found in the dungeon.
Reward: You’re now a handsome son of a bitch. That’s reward enough.
New achievement! Oooh, Magic!
You’re wearing magical gear for the first time! You’re a wizard, Crawler!
Reward: You’ve received a Bronze Adventurer Box!
The box contained another torch and a pair of healing potions, leaving me with a total of six. I still didn’t have any pants. Or shoes. I was wearing a jacket, a cloak, and boxers. I shook my head. I examined the last item, the toe ring.
Enchanted Toe Ring of the Splatter Skunk.
Imbues wearer with +3 Strength and gives +3 to the skill Powerful Strike. Also, it’s a toe ring. It’s probably uncomfortable and it makes you look like one of those hippie assholes who sit around in a field juggling and hula-hooping all day.
“Powerful strike is a good skill,” Mordecai said. “Each level multiplies your damage when you’re not wielding a weapon. So at level three, each kick or punch does three times the damage it normally would. With your Unarmed Combat skill and the Pugilism skill, your fists already do much more damage than either of those weapons. You might want to consider a monk class, which will enhance that further.”
“So, I could be like a ninja?” I said. I sat down and slipped the toe ring on. It adjusted itself, sliding easily onto my filthy, bloody index toe on my right foot. Like the description warned, it was uncomfortable. I’d never been a jewelry guy. I hopped up and down, trying to get used to it. I felt my strength rise by 50%.
“And just like that, you’re almost as strong as any human who has ever lived,” Mordecai said.
I received another snarky achievement for putting on jewelry, but no reward.
I started to fiddle around within my skills menu. Despite the heavy filtering, there was a lot of information
in there. There was literally a skill for everything. The menu had a search box. I typed in Frogger, just to see what would happen. Growing up, my old man had an original, stand up Frogger video game machine from an arcade. I had spent hours and hours playing the game when I was stuffed in the basement. My mom locked me in there a lot. Whenever my dad had his friends over, they’d smoke and drink and get loud, and my mom didn’t want them “being a bad influence” on me. So instead I stayed downstairs with no television or internet and that damn machine.
The top score one could get on an original machine was 99,990. The game never ended, so you could keep playing past that, and the score would cycle over and over. My record was 879,460.
Sure enough, it popped up.
Frogger – 1981 Video Game Cabinet Version (result hidden due to filters)
Skill: 8.
I grinned at that. I wondered why that skill was hidden by the filters, but things like Lacing Boots - Skill: 3 wasn’t. It probably only included skills useful in the dungeon. I doubted there would be a Frogger machine in one of these hallways.
But that wasn’t true, was it? Assuming it hadn’t been tossed in a landfill, that old Frogger machine was down here somewhere. At least the atoms of it or whatever. This dungeon was literally made out of items built by human civilization. I sighed. It was hard to comprehend.
“Really, Carl,” a new voice said. It was female, sultry yet pompous at the same time. “If you’re going to insist upon wearing that hideous cloak in public, you might want to do yourself the dignity of putting pants on first. I just can't fathom why Miss Beatrice hired you in the first place.”
I looked wildly about for the speaker, expecting to find someone dressed like a medieval princess.
Instead, all I saw was the cat.
7
“Uh, Donut?” I said, looking down at the cat.
Mordecai stood beside me, mouth agape.
Despite being nothing but a pile of goo just a few minutes earlier, the cat appeared to be exactly the same as before. Maybe she had gotten a little bigger, but not by much. Either way, she was still decidedly a cat.
Except for the talking part.
“First off, Carl, my name is ‘GC, BWR, NW Princess Donut the Queen Anne Chonk,’ and I’m going to have to insist you call me by my proper title. I will accept just Princess or even Princess Donut but not if we are in the presence of high company.” She looked at Mordecai as if he was something she had just vomited upon the floor. “I suppose Princess Donut will do for now.”
“I see what’s happened,” Mordecai said after a moment. “You’re partied with her, so you can see for yourself. Pull up her stats.”
I clicked on the party menu, and then I clicked on Donut’s stats.
Strength: 11
Intelligence: 11
Constitution: 2
Dexterity: 8
Charisma: 25
“What the hell?” I said. She was stronger and more intelligent than me. And her charisma was just ridiculous. “What happened?”
“Her stats were all one. All except dexterity, which was always eight and charisma which was five. Whatever buff you gave her kept her race but changed her stats. Hmm let me look…. Yes, it’s like I thought. Look in her health menu. It shows conditions.”
I clicked over, and under Buffs it read:
Enhanced Growth.
After an initial boost to four random stats, all additional levels will automatically grant +1 to Strength and Intelligence. Charisma will gain +2 per level. No additional stat points will be received upon level-up.
“Wait,” I said. “So she’s getting four stat points per level instead of three?”
“Yes,” Mordecai said. “And she doesn’t have to wait until she picks a class before they disburse. But that boost is a double-edged sword. She’s forever stuck with a constitution of two and a dexterity of eight unless she can find some gear that will enhance it or if she picks a race and class that changes it for her. But even then, the points will still distribute as indicated.” He grunted. “With a charisma like that, she should consider a bard-based class. Two points every level is going to add up fast. I’m immune to the effects of her charisma. Same with you and other crawlers. But all the other NPCs and mobs won’t be. For the first several floors, that number is huge. Bigger than you realize.”
“But how can she talk? She’s still a cat!”
“I am right here you know,” Donut said. “It’s quite rude to talk about me as if I’m not in the room. And if you must know, Carl, for me, I hear your speech as it should be heard. And you hear mine as that disgusting monkey grunting you call English. I imagine this other creature hears it as squeaks and vermin hisses. This whole translation system is quite elegant, I must admit.”
“I’m gonna have to start the tutorial all over,” Mordecai said. “She’s not a pet anymore. She’s now classified as a regular crawler.”
“Not necessary. I heard everything you said to my manservant,” Donut said. “Now wave your hand and grant me access to my prize boxes so we can get this farce rolling.”
“Manservant?” I said.
“He’s a little slow,” Donut said to Mordecai. “Intelligence of only three. Sad, really. But he’s been with the family for a while now, and I just can’t see myself letting him go.”
“I’ve activated your menus,” Mordecai said. “Oh, wow.” He looked at me. “She received a Legendary Quadruped box for being the first cat to enter the dungeon.”
I watched as a group of loot boxes lined up in front of her just as they had done with me. She only had five of them. Three bronze ones with a couple healing potions and torches. Next was a silver adventurer box that contained a book and a pile of pet biscuits. The note over the book read:
Tome of Magic Missile
Next came the legendary box. The symbol on the front was of a lion thing. Only a single item came out. A small, jeweled tiara. The cat-sized crown glittered with smoky, dark gems. The deep purple stone in the center swirled internally with clouds, as if the center was liquid.
Enchanted Crown of the Sepsis Whore.
“That sounds ominous,” I said.
“Wait until you read the description,” Mordecai muttered. The item disappeared into her inventory. The cat sat down and started to groom herself.
“Are boxes custom tailored to the person?” I asked as I pulled up the party menu. I quickly found I couldn’t examine items in Donut’s inventory. Only items she had equipped.
“Sort of,” Mordecai said. “You’ll receive items that can be used by your race, but not necessarily your class. So a human barbarian might receive a necromancer staff.”
Donut glowed a bright red.
Mordecai turned to the cat, raising his hand. “Ah, Princess Donut, I see you taught yourself the Magic Missile spell already. That’s good, good. In case you didn’t know, tomes will permanently teach you the spell, and scrolls will just cast it once. That other item you received is quite valuable and powerful. But it is also a very dangerous item. Before you decide to put it on, you should take special note that it…”
Poof! The crown magically appeared on her head.
Mordecai lowered his hand, sighing.
“How the hell did she do that?” I asked. I’d had to manually put on my cloak and shirt.
“She’s a quadruped, so she has a different user interface than you. She can perform many actions directly from her menu.”
Now that it was equipped, I could examine the tiara’s properties.
Enchanted Crown of the Sepsis Whore.
Who’s a dirty girl? You’re a dirty girl!
This is a Fleeting item!
This is a Unique* item!
Imbues wearer with +5 Intelligence, grants the user +5 to the Good First Impression skill. All attacks, including magical attacks, now have a 15% chance to inflict the Sepsis debuff.
Warning! (Seriously though. I’m going to say this again.
WARNING! Read this shit before you put it on
.) Placing this crown upon your head permanently places you within the royal line of succession for the Blood Sultanate on the ninth floor of the world dungeon. Removing this item will not remove this status. Royal members of the Blood Sultanate will be required to slay the Sultan and all other members of the royal family before descending to the tenth floor. You’ll only want to wear this if you’re a blood-thirsty, raging psychopath.
“That…” I began. “I’m not so sure you should’ve put that on.”
“It’s purple,” Donut said. “Purple is my color. Do you know how many purple ribbons I’ve won? Do you know what it takes to get a purple ribbon?”
“What does fleeting mean?” I asked Mordecai. “And why is there an asterisk by ‘unique?’”
Donut had received a few more boxes from learning the spell and putting on the tiara. It was all low-tier potions and torches. She sorted through the items now, hissing with displeasure each time she received another torch.
“Fleeting means it’ll crumble to dust the moment she takes it off. If that happens, another crown will be generated somewhere else in the dungeon. Now that it’s on her, don’t let her take it off. If another crawler gets the crown, it’ll just be one more person you’ll have to kill to get off that floor.”
The idea of having to fight actual people hadn’t occurred to me. Would that really happen? The thought of it made me sick. I looked at Donut.
“What the hell am I going to do now?” I asked, shaking my head. The tutorial was over, and I knew it. We’d have to go back out there.
“It’s quite simple, really,” Donut said. “You need to assist me to this 18th level, so I can exit this hellscape and resume my rightful place as liege. I am assuming this rat creature won’t be able to travel with us,” she lifted her paw and pointed it at me, “so you have been promoted from manservant to bodyguard. Congratulations, Carl.”
Princess Donut has named your party The Royal Court of Princess Donut.
Princess Donut has changed your title to Royal Bodyguard.
Dungeon Crawler Carl Page 6