Dungeon Crawler Carl

by Matt Dinniman

  The moment the announcement ended, a message popped up.

  Admin Notice. A new tab is available in your interface.

  I blinked. That was unexpected. I opened up my interface, and indeed, there was a new section. ACCOUNTS. I clicked on it.

  There was only one item:

  Creator’s Fee. Carl’s Jug O’ Boom. Royalty: 1 Gold Coin per Kill. Current kills: 4.

  There was a button. Cash Out Now. Below that was a very small line that I could barely read. There was no way to zoom in. I had to squint to read it.

  Count updates once daily. Two gold coins plus 25% Deposit fee, rounded up, deducted upon cash out. Funds not deposited are subject to forfeiture upon death.

  “Twenty-five percent!” I said. “Highway robbery.” If I cashed out now, I’d only receive a single gold coin. If I’d had five coins, I’d still only receive one coin because they rounded the fee up.

  “What?” Donut asked.

  I waved my hand. “It’s nothing. I’ll explain later. Let’s get going.”

  “Are we running? Is that what we’re doing? Hiding from Frank Q and Maggie My?”

  “No,” I said. “That was my first instinct, but now that I’ve slept on it, I’ve changed my mind. That woman is hell-bent on hunting us down, and we’re going to have to deal with it sooner rather than later. I don’t know if they’re coming now or not. I’d much rather be ready for her than have her sneak up behind us.”

  “But how can we do that? They can track us and go invisible, and we can’t do either of those.”

  “Her invisibility is not nearly as powerful as I first thought. We’ll need to take out the local neighborhood boss and get that map. It’ll make our lives much easier…”

  Warning: You may not wield your weapons while in the presence of Admins. Any attempted violence against an Admin will result in your immediate execution.

  “Shit,” I said, looking up at the ceiling. “Mukta is coming.”

  Pop! Water splashed over my feet, and a familiar, armored kua-tin appeared. My interface snapped off.

  “Zev!” Donut cried. “Where were you! I was worried.”

  “Hello, Carl, hello, Princess Donut. I’m here for your show debriefing.”

  “Are you okay?” Donut asked.

  “Yes, thank you,” Zev said. “I was censured by the System AI. I was given a suspension because the system determined that I had cheated by warning you of the rage elemental before it appeared. My representative appealed the decision on my behalf, and upon further review, it was determined that you’d noticed the man urinating simultaneously with my exclamation, so the censure was removed from my record.” She sighed, filling her mask with bubbles. “But even though my record is technically clean, it’s not really. Once the AI notices you, it’s difficult to get it to un-notice you, so I have to be extra careful from now on.”

  “Are we in trouble?” Donut asked. “That orc guy was really mean to Carl.”

  “No,” Zev said. “It was improper for you to attempt to disengage from the interview, but the Borant corporation wishes to commend you for showing proper respect to the organization. They’re actually quite pleased with you right now.”

  “Commend us?” I said. “Really?” Proper respect? The thought of giving respect to anything Borant did made me sick. Anyone who mistook fear for respect was a fool.

  “The politics regarding all of this is too complicated to even begin to explain. However, that particular production, while technically private, is owned and operated by a prince of a faction that is allied with another faction that is at odds with the Borant system. All of it would make your head spin if I were to explain it to you.”

  “If you don’t like those guys, then why did you let them interview us? That show is awful, Zev. It’s…” It’s almost as cruel as the game itself, I almost said. “It’s abusive.”

  She nodded. “And I would like to apologize. Mukta should never have booked it. The show I had scheduled also caters to the younger crowd, but it would be a discussion regarding specific tactics you use in the dungeon. They do it in a creative, silly way. But to answer your question, Borant is not allowed to discriminate against Syndicate-member production companies. Especially when said companies are tied to production sponsors. This is monitored very closely by the AI. Anything to do with money is watched carefully, especially this season.”

  “So that Maestro asshole is a prince?” I asked. “No wonder he’s such a cheesedick. I didn’t realize he was royalty. I assumed the show didn’t have very much money.”

  “He is a prince,” Zev said. “But that production is owned by his older brother, Crown Prince Stalwart. I think their father gives them a small stipend to make the show, probably to keep them busy.”

  I thought of that voice that had threatened us when we’d attempted to bail. If that was him, he seemed just as much of a douche as his younger brother. “Prince Stalwart? That name is almost as bad as ‘the Maestro.’”

  “They’re orcs. Everything they do is mawkish.”

  I had no idea what the word “mawkish” meant, but I assumed it translated to “cheesy.” “So these guys are different than the tusklings? I know they are obviously a different race, but I thought the tusklings were the rulers of all the orcs.”

  “The tusklings are the rulers of the Orcish Supremacy. Stalwart and the Maestro are princes of the Skull Empire. That’s a whole different system. If the Orcish Supremacy is a child with a lemonade stand, the Skull Empire is the Wal-Mart corporation. It’s one of the largest and oldest Syndicate governments.”

  “Yeah, he’d said something about creating the crawl.” I glanced down at Donut. “He also talked a bit about the ninth floor. How he’s going to be there.”

  “Sorry, I can’t really discuss that yet. Mordecai is now authorized to tell you about the third floor, but that’s it.”

  “Is there anything you can tell us?” I asked.

  She looked pained. “What I can say is that every three floors are the same setting. Sort of. The third, sixth, ninth and so forth are all linked in a way that will later become clear.”

  I thought about what Mordecai had whispered to me earlier, that Borant was trying to end the game as soon as possible.

  “What if all the crawlers die before the ninth floor even starts?”

  “That probably isn’t going to happen,” she said. “It’s starting to look like we’ll get there much faster than usual, but we’ve never had a full player extinction before the ninth floor. It happens on the ninth floor a lot, but not before it. Again, I can’t tell you much, but those floors … three, six, nine, twelve, fifteen, and eighteen, all come into existence at the same time. You can only visit them in context with the rest of the crawl, but that doesn’t mean they’re not being utilized. Whatever happens on the ninth and twelfth floors happens with or without the crawlers. It’s a game within the game where you are not the main focus. At least not until you get there. Sorry, that’s all I can say.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I was just wondering. I’m not going to worry about it until we get there, I guess.”

  “That’s the spirit! Now we need to talk about the next couple of days. I was just brainstorming with my team, and we agree that you two need to concentrate on building up your character. You’re already in a good position, but a couple extra levels would really help you out. Now that the Meadow Lark storyline is completed, we can wait a day or two before really focusing on the next story arc.”

  “Story arc?” I said. “Really?”

  “How is this thing with Maggie and Frank going over?” Donut asked.

  Zev waved dismissively. “It has potential, but it’s already tired. Those two have a good amount of followers, especially after last night, but not many people think they’re going to survive long enough for that Maggie lady to make good on her threat. She’s not very charismatic, and she’s acting more and more irrationally. This gripe you have with Prince Maestro is getting much more attention, especially with that P
ork Boy Snick that just showed up. Two hours old, and it’s already trending all over the social media tunnels. But like we’ve already discussed, that whole story won’t bear fruit until much later. We feel you can get away with coasting for a few days until you hit the next floor down, but once you do hit the over city, you really need to focus on something compelling. Just train, and try not to be too boring. Maybe take out a boss or two. And don’t pick anything weird during race selection.”

  “Back up,” I said. “What the hell is a ‘Pork Boy Snick?’”

  She chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I need to tell you about this. So, you have… had… a similar phenomenon on earth. Are you familiar with the concept of fan fiction?”

  “Wait, what’s that?” Donut asked.

  Zev whirled on Donut. “Oh my gods, Donut. You would love it. There was this whole website, and it was filled with stories about Gossip Girl. But it was written by people like you and me. Actual fans, not the writers. So the stories aren’t real. Or canon, they called it. But some were great! I tried writing one once, but it didn’t get many views.”

  “That sounds like the greatest thing in the world,” Donut said. “You can make it so the show never ends! Wait. People are writing stories about us? Me and Carl?”

  “Yeah, so a snick is kind of like a fan fiction, but it’s a video. So it’s like a fan fiction movie. You can experience the scene from any of the character’s point of view, or you can just watch it. This particular video is short, and a little, what is the word? Um, explicit.”

  “What was in the video?” Donut asked. “What do you mean by explicit? Was I in it?”

  “No,” Zev said. “Just Carl. Carl and the Maestro. And let’s just say Carl has the upper hand during the scene.”

  “Uh,” I said. I tried to think of something to say, but I couldn’t think of anything. “Who made it?”

  “So, that’s the interesting part. It’s a bit of a mystery. It showed up just a few hours after your interview. Nobody knows where it came from. But it went very viral, very fast. The quality is flawless. In fact, it came out so fast, some people think it’s real. It’s not… Right?”

  “Are you asking me if I fucked the orc?”

  “Wait, it’s a sex tape? With Carl and the Maestro?” Donut said. She practically fell off her chair, laughing. “And I thought it was going to be a bog witch that finally stole his heart.”

  “It is a little funny,” Zev said. “But the Skull Empire probably isn’t going to find it amusing. They haven’t reacted yet, at least not officially. They’re not known for their measured responses to insults.”

  “Is it an insult, though?” I asked. “I’m not gay, but does it matter? The tusklings seem to be very open with, you know, weird stuff. Do people really care?”

  “It’s not that,” Zev said. “You’re right, most wouldn’t care. But this is a prince of the Skull Empire. And that video is both graphic and humiliating. You two… say things to each other.”

  “Can we watch it?” Donut asked. “I want to watch it!”

  “That sort of thing has to happen all the time,” I said. “That prince is such a cockwomble, I can’t imagine the intergalactic internet isn’t filled with stuff like that.”

  “Oh, it is. This is different. The quality is so good, and it is just everywhere right now. Everyone is calling the Prince ‘Pork Boy’ and, uh, ‘Carl’s Naughty Little Piggie.’ You have to watch the video. Anyway, if the Skull Empire demands people stop calling him that, it’s going to be just like the mudskipper thing all over again. In the past hour, your appearance fee has doubled. You’re now equal with Lucia Mar. The fact this has happened at the expense of the Skull Empire has made the Party very happy with you.”

  “Oh shit,” I said, any sense of amusement fleeing. “The last thing we need is some giant sponsor gunning for us. Any interview we do, they’re just going to ask me about it, and I can tell you right now, there’s nothing I’m willing to say to make those assholes hate me less.”

  “There’s no such thing as bad publicity,” Zev said. “Borant’s official stance on this is that as long as you do not disparage the company, the party, or the Syndicate itself, any opinion you air about other governments will not be met with any sort of punitive action. Besides, there’s not much the other governments can do to you. Not until the sixth floor. Or if they spring for a deity sponsorship this season. But anyway, don’t worry about anything happening outside your floor. That’s my job. Now I gotta get going. Your next scheduled appearance is on Odette’s show. In the meantime, I’ll be available on chat. Bye to both of you.”

  A moment later, she popped away, splashing water all over the floor.

  “I’m glad she’s okay,” Donut said. “I feel bad we got her in trouble.”

  I barely heard her. I couldn’t stop thinking about the video. This Skull Empire government had to know how much of an asshole that prince was. Plus they couldn’t blame me for something I didn’t make. Could they?

  My HUD snapped back on. The first thing I noticed was that my followers had increased significantly in the past hour. With the combination of the recap episode and this stupid video, that feeling of loneliness I’d felt earlier was all but gone. I now felt like a bug under a microscope. I wondered how many people really thought that the snick was real. I always wondered that about conspiracy theorists. I always suspected most of them were just trolling. Surely the real number couldn’t be very many.

  “Carl, darling. I can’t believe you hooked up with that guy,” Donut said loudly. She pushed at the door, heading out of the room. “He sure squealed a lot, though.” Her laughter trailed off into the hallway.

  “Goddamnit, Donut,” I said.

  45

  Finding the boss chamber of the kobolds was easy.

  Heavy, thrumming metal music blasted through the halls. It was a cacophony of sound with growling, deep vocals and guitars that were almost seizure-like. I couldn’t tell if the vocalist was singing in English, or if he was even human at all. The words sounded like deeply distorted barking. Considering the enemies of this quadrant, I wouldn’t be surprised if the singer was a kobold or a dingo.

  We followed the sound, which grew louder and louder until it was physically painful. Donut and I couldn’t talk to one another, and we had to rely on the chat to communicate. We killed a half dozen kobolds and an equal number of dingoes along the way, plus a handful of the brindle grubs. Both of us hit level 12 by the time we approached the source.

  Donut: THIS MUSIC IS MAKING MY HEAD HURT. WHY CAN’T THEY PLAY SOMETHING GOOD? LIKE OASIS.

  Carl: Oasis? Where did you get that from? Even Bea didn’t listen to Oasis.

  Donut: NO MISS BEATRICE LIKES COUNTRY MUSIC. THAT’S JUST AS BAD AS THIS.

  Carl: Yeah, that should’ve been my first warning.

  Donut: THERE IS THE BOSS CHAMBER.

  The outer kobold boss chamber was set up as a giant dog kennel. The text on the walls was in Portuguese, indicating the place had been some sort of municipal dog pound. It was a group of three long hallways flanked by cages. There was a secondary, main chamber with a door at the end of the middle hallway, but we already knew from experience that whatever the boss was going to be, it would likely come out of that second room. That second door was huge, like the double doors of a barn. An ominous sign.

  Most of the cages were empty, but not all of them. Each row had four or five locked pens with danger dingoes within. I didn’t see any signs of the kobolds. A handful of cages also contained the Xs of dead monsters. Here, in this context, the large dingoes looked especially dog-like, and I suddenly felt an uneasy sympathy for them. The monsters didn’t bark or attack the cages as we passed by them. They sat there, curled up, looking pitiful.

  Their dots, however, remained red on the minimap.

  Donut: SHOULD WE KILL THEM? WE SHOULD PROBABLY KILL THEM.

  It would be easy, free experience. And I knew once that boss chamber opened, these doors would likely also open. But it felt
wrong. I remembered Mordecai’s advice regarding the boss rooms. Look for the clues.

  Carl: Hang on. Not yet. Let’s try to figure out what’s going on here.

  I stopped at one of the cages. The dingo was on its side, breathing heavily, its back turned.

  “Hey buddy, you doing okay?” I said, yelling the words. I couldn’t even hear my own voice.

  The dingo looked up, turning its head toward me. He was missing an eye, a recent injury. His white face paint mixed red with blood. Then I noticed the injuries on his side, a mixture of old scars and new ones around his flank and along the side of his neck.

  The song ended. A moment later, a new one started, just as loud and heavy. But in that brief moment of silence I heard something coming from the main boss chamber.

  Cheering.

  I knew, then, what this was.

  Goddamnit, I thought. I hated this place. I hated it so damn much. I looked up at the boss room door.

  I searched my inventory. I didn’t have any Scrolls of Heal Critter left, but I did have a ton of pet biscuits. Donut still ate them despite being classified as a regular crawler. But unless we were locked in the dungeon for fifty years, we’d never run out of the food. I took a single biscuit from my inventory and tossed it into the cage.

  Donut: CARL WHAT ARE YOU DOING. THAT IS MY FOOD.

  Carl: I’m trying something. Let’s see what happens.

  Donut: THIS IS A BETRAYAL MOST FOUL.

  Carl: You know the viewers can’t see this chat. Don’t be such a drama queen.

  The dingo painfully pulled himself up, sniffed at the food, and he ate the tiny biscuit. He sat back down and turned his back.

  The dot on the minimap blinked and turned white.

  Yes.

  We repeated the process for all the other dingoes in the cages. There was a total of fourteen of them. Most of them were in similar shape to the first one.

  Three cages also contained dead danger dingoes. I debated whether or not to have Donut raise them from the dead prior to the battle, but there didn’t seem to be a way to open the cages. Donut’s ten-mana Second Chance spell was now level five. Instead of reanimating the corpses for five minutes, once she hit level five, they now remained animated for ten minutes, which was usually long enough to finish out a battle. She could now apparently resurrect monsters up to five levels higher than herself.