《Dungeon Crawler Katia》Chapter 13: Party On
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"Thank you," I said. "I'd appreciate the help. I tried to..." I gestured vaguely at my face but couldn't find the words.
"No problem. Let's start with something simple: Hands." He held out his own hands, palms up. Reluctantly I brought my misshapen mitts above the table and laid them atop his, palm to palm.
"Hm." He considered them, turning them over and pinching or poking lightly. The skin dented and stretched when he did, and it took me a couple of seconds of intense focus to smooth it out again.
"I've seen worse," he said.
"Really?"
He laughed. "I've been doing this a long time. I've seen worse on pretty much anything you can come up with. I had one guy choose doppelganger and it took him six hours just to be able to walk without mushing his legs back into his body. Now, what I want you to do is..."
Carefully and with no sign of disgust he walked me through the process. He was a good teacher who knew what he was talking about. My arms and hands improved step by grindingly slow step until they actually looked mostly normal and they didn't dent when poked.
"There, see?" he said, waving above my head to where my properties would be for an outside observer. "Progress."
I went into my menus and pulled them up for myself.
Crawler #9,077,265. "Katia Grim."
Level 9.
Race: Human.
Class: Monster Truck Driver.
Human, not 'What the f-word?' Relief went through me and muscles relaxed that I hadn't even realized were tense.
"Oh, thank god. Thank you, Mordecai. Thank you, thank you, thank you." I rubbed my hand across my forearm, pressing hard and tugging on the skin to watch it rebound like real skin should. My skin lacked any vellus hairs or visible veins but it once again had pores, plus proper texture and elasticity.
"No trouble. You're a quick study." He finished the last sip of his drink and waved at the bartender for another one. "We'll keep working on that, but why don't we take a break so you can tell me about your class and stats? I need to start thinking about where to fit you in."
"Right." I laid out the details of the Monster Truck Driver class for him and also my Gear Head skill. He asked incisive questions and nodded thoughtfully. When I showed him my stats he frowned. I cringed, but his reaction wasn't for the reason I had expected.
"I know doppelganger comes with a big bonus, but how do you have a Constitution of 51 on the third floor?" he asked. "And a Dexterity of 30?"
"The AI," I said, gesturing helplessly. "I think it wanted to drive a wedge between me and Eva—that's my friend that I was traveling with. I said something that gave her a good idea but the AI gave me the box instead of her. A Legendary box. It had a ring in it that gave +15 Constitution. When that didn't break us up it started giving me more Constitution stuff. Then I...found some other items that helped even more." I wasn't going to use phrases like 'looted the bodies', even if it had been entirely justified. I couldn't predict how he might feel about that and I couldn't afford for him to have a bad opinion of me.
"Huh." He frowned, the expression frightening on that beautiful but demonic face. "That's strange. The AI doesn't usually get that deeply inv—" He stopped mid-word and thought for a moment. "You were traveling with Hekla, right? How did you meet up with her?"
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"Eva and I came into the dungeon together and met this guy named Gene. He attached himself to us. We didn't like him—he was pushy and often rude, but he was strong and we needed all the help we could get since we weren't getting any decent weapons. We got to the second floor and explored around. The neighborhood we went into first had all these porcupine/scorpion things that could fire their quills like arrows. We pulled out of there and went the other way where we found a neighborhood with good mobs. The population kept regenerating so we just stayed there and farmed the place until we bumped into Hekla."
"Uh-huh. And how did that go?"
"Gene was being a creep. Hekla didn't want him in the group and he wouldn't accept that so he grabbed me to drag me off. Eva stabbed him and he died...he shouldn't have, she only stabbed him in the leg, but he did. After that we stuck with Hekla."
"Hm." He digested that for a moment. "Before you linked up with Hekla, how did things go? You and Eva and Gene fought...what sort of tactics did you use?"
"We didn't have very good weapons to start with, but then Eva had a good idea. She told one of the Bopca that she had a favorite meal named 'spjótamatur' that consisted of a bunch of things skewered on a narwhal tusk and a swordfish bill. It translates as 'spear food' and there's no such thing. Anyway, she didn't care about the food she just wanted the tusk and the bill. We used them as weapons. Mostly the tusk. The bill wasn't really very good."
"Slick move," Mordecai said, nodding in appreciation. "Getting a decent starter weapon is what decides whether or not you make it past your first day in the dungeon. If you don't, you die. So the three of you were traveling together. They were on the front line so you and your unwieldy weapon watched their backs?"
"Yes."
"And then you met Hekla and traveled with her."
"Yes."
He nodded as though something had become clear to him. "Okay. Well, whyever it happened, it's good news that you've got such great stats."
I blushed and ducked my head. "The rest aren't very good. Including my Strength."
He shrugged. "Eh, I've seen worse. You'll level faster with this group than you did with Hekla, so we'll get your stats up. The problem with being in large groups is that the experience gets spread out too widely, especially when you've got one person who got some amazing piece of loot that lets them do most of the killing. Donut, Carl, and Mongo are strong enough that the four of you will be able to handle most mid-level mobs, but with a small group you'll be getting a bigger chunk of the reward."
That sounded good. I'd need to work hard to pull my own weight—the two of them were on the recap show every day because they were aggressive and smart. Mordecai had been nice thus far and Donut had promised Hekla that they would take me in, but what if Carl didn't want me? Or, worse, what if he 'wanted' me? He might be like Gene except worse. If Carl made demands in exchange for protection, should I give in or should I go off on my own? Would he let me go off on my own? He was probably much higher level than I was, so if he wanted to force me to stay, he could.
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"Speak of the devil," Mordecai said, looking towards the door and apparently not noticing the irony of someone with his appearance using that phrase. "Here they are."
I jumped to my feet and turned to the door. A man was standing there, backlit so that all I could see was his silhouette, but I had seen him so many times on the recap show that I didn't have to wonder. He wore a cloak made from the wing of some demonic beast, a leather jacket from outside the dungeon that had its right sleeve burned off, a shirt made from skin that was fortunately too bumpy to be human, a pair of white boxers with red hearts on them, a pair of spiked kneepads, and nothing else. The fluffy blob on his shoulder was Donut, a regular tortoiseshell cat who had become human-level intelligent upon entering the dungeon and was now a powerful crawler in her own right. Like him, she was tricked out in dramatic and powerful loot: A jeweled tiara with a giant amethyst at the center, and a crupper of silvered-steel chainmail on her backside. And, of course, her final piece of 'gear': Her pet velociraptor, currently peeking curiously around Carl's thigh.
The moment of stillness broke and Carl strode forward into the room where I could see him properly. Strongly built, 190 centimeters tall, with very little excess fat. He moved smoothly and I could see his eyes flicking around as though checking the room for threats. He needed a better shave.
"Hi Katia," Donut said, jumping on the table. "Are you Hekla's friend?"
"Hello," I said, struggling and failing to sound confident. "Yes. Thank you so much for meeting me. Hekla said you'd be here."
Mongo, Donut's pet dinosaur, came over and sniffed cautiously at me. He apparently decided that I was neither food nor a playmate so he twirled in a circle three times and lay down with his nose tucked under one wing.
"Hello," Carl said.
"Hello, Carl." This was starting to feel repetitive, like something out of a comedy sketch. "Hekla told me everything that happened during your interview. It's... crazy. She wants to talk to you, but in a minute. She and the Daughters are fighting a boss right now. I won't get any experience because I'm too far away."
I was babbling, so I shut up and waited for him to say something. He didn't. Instead, he turned and waved to the bartender for a drink. He turned back and stood there, studying me without sitting down.
"Anyway," I said, "Mordecai was giving me a few tips. It's much appreciated. My game guide isn't very helpful."
He hmm'd and continued studying me. I struggled to look confident instead of hunching in on myself.
"Hekla is so cool," Donut said. "She's like Xena Warrior Princess, but better."
"Yes, she is," I said. "She's amazing. She saved my life."
Carl's eyes were giving off the faint flickering glow that meant he was using his chat system. Probably with Mordecai, getting a briefing on me and whether I would be useful or just dead weight. I wondered what Mordecai would say.
"What sort of tips was Mordecai giving you?" Carl asked.
My stomach curdled at the thought that his first impression of me was going to be hearing me admit that I hadn't even had the spine to choose my own race and class. "Bannon, that's my game guide, talked me into picking this race and class, and I don't know what I'm doing."
"What race are you? It says human, but you don't look it."
"Easy," Mordecai said. "She's trying."
Carl sat down to my right so that he was facing the screens hanging over the bar. The recap show was beginning.
"What does that mean?" he asked, splitting his attention between me and the screens.
"I'm a doppelganger," I said. "It says human when you look at me because that's what I'm trying to emulate. Before Mordecai helped me with my hands, it said my race was 'What the f-word?' so we're making progress."
"A doppelganger?" He looked at Mordecai. "Is that the same thing as what you are? A Changeling?"
"They are similar," he said, "But not exactly the same. A doppelganger is a very difficult race to master, and her guide should have talked her out of it." He ran quickly through the differences between the two races, keeping his eyes on the recap the whole time.
"Also, shapeshifting as a doppelganger hurts," I added. "And I haven't had a mirror. I tried to use the mirror in a bathroom but it doesn't work. It won't let me shape myself while I'm in there."
"In that case, here," he said, pulling a hand-sized chunk of broken mirror out of his inventory and laying it on the table.
"Oh wow, thank you," I said, picking it up. He hadn't moved his hand particularly far away from it so I almost had to brush against him to get the mirror. Was that deliberate on his part? I really hoped not. This was one case where my inhuman appearance could help; I was so ugly, so deep into the uncanny valley, that I shouldn't have to worry about advances.
Having the mirror made all the difference. Mordecai had shown me how to identify the parts of myself and move them around. It had worked great for the bits I could look at like hands and arms but I could tell by Mordecai's reaction that my face was still awful. I mentally pushed at the flesh, imagining myself shaping it with my hands like clay. It obeyed my imagined instructions; my nose slid into the correct place and rotated five degrees so that it was properly aligned. My eyes became the same size. My skin lost its lumpiness and acquired a proper flesh tone instead of the 'lobster bisque' color I'd been sporting.
"I have to do clothes, too," I said. "I'm wearing a magical leather jerkin right now, but once it's equipped, it disappears and adds to my mass. The only thing that doesn't disappear is my weapon."
"You'll get better and faster at altering your appearance as you practice. It's a skill like any other," Mordecai said patiently.
"So what's with that Monster Truck Driver class?" Carl asked.
Mordecai answered for me. "She's a tank that gets an increasingly-massive Constitution bonus the faster she's moving. And based on her current Constitution while she is standing still, she is quite the powerhouse." He went on to lay out the details of my various class abilities, doing it more succinctly and clearly than I had originally done for him.
By the end of the recitation, Carl looked impressed. Donut had wandered over to sit on the bar and watch the recap show, her tail coiled around her while the tip flicked back and forth intently. Mongo was snoring quietly and had dropped his chin over my foot.
Hekla: Katia? We're done with the fight. Have you found them?
Katia: Yes! I'm so glad you're okay. I talked with Mordecai a lot and he's really nice. Carl and Donut and Mongo got here a few minutes ago. Mongo is so cute! Donut seems nice, but she's a bit distracted. Carl is a little intense. I'm not sure if he wants me here.
Hekla: Well, we'll sort that out. Repeat what I tell you.
I set the mirror down and hesitantly raised one finger to get Carl's attention. "Hekla is done with her fight now. She says, 'Hi Carl and Donut. I am glad you haven't been assassinated. Please help Katia. I think it'll be best if you let her join your party to get experience. The farther away party members are, the less shared experience they get. Please keep her out of too much danger. I really appreciate your help, and I promise to make it up to you.'"
Carl pursed his lips in what might have been annoyance, but he nodded. "Tell her we said we'll take it from here and for her to stay safe."
I passed the message on.
Carl sat back in his seat and looked up to watch the recap show. As he did, he let out the grunting sigh of a man finally putting down a load he'd been carrying for too long.
A wave of relief went through me at that sigh. He had clearly been trying to decide whether the inconvenience and risk of having to drag me along was outweighed by the value of a debt from Hekla, and he had made his decision.
"Hey, Donut," he called. "Add Katia to the party." He glanced over at me and rolled his eyes. "She's the party leader because back on the first floor she had better stats than me." He laughed and shook his head. I smiled in reply and he turned back to watch the recap.
Princess Donut the Queen Anne Chonk has invited you to join The Royal Court of Princess Donut! Accept? Y/N
I clicked Yes and felt, for the first time today, a tiny bit of hope.
"Okay, listen up," Mordecai said. "Now that you're in the party, we need to have a discussion about experience and something I just learned."
"Hush, hush!" Donut said, pointing on the screen. "Look! It's me!"
"Oh fuck," Carl said, looking at the headline.
Donut was on the screen and she was definitely drunk. I felt confident in this assessment because she was standing on the bar of a saferoom with a saucer of something with three cherries in it in front of her, her eyes were crossed, and she was making a derp face that the publicity-conscious cat would never have done by choice.
A lightning bolt appeared, and on the other side of the screen an image of two rottweilers dropped down, looking uncomfortably like the boss battle graphic.
Princess Donut Versus Cici and Gustavo 3!
"It's a feud of epic proportions!" said a hyperactive announcer's voice. "Princess Donut has thrown the gauntlet down, directly challenging Cici and Gustavo 3, the two beloved pets of current front-runner, Lucia Mar!" The orange-hued lizard announcer breathlessly intoned.
"I have done no such thing!" Donut said, incredulous. "They're lying! Carl, I do not like this. Since when has the news been allowed to lie?"
Wasn't she from America? Oh, wait, she only became intelligent after entering the dungeon. I shook my head slightly to get the fuzziness out. My time in the dungeon was starting to blur with my time Before.
"Those dogs sound just awful," slurred the onscreen Donut. "Bitch-ass rottweilers. Almost as bad as cocker spaniels. Think they're so smart."
Screen-Donut shrank into the bottom right corner while the announcer became fullscreen. He had squid tentacles hanging off his face, enormous eyes, and clutched a microphone between two flippers. "Lucia Mar appeared earlier today on Knuckle Cracking, and this is what she had to say."
The screen flickered, changing to a shot of Lucia Mar. The most powerful, most-featured crawler in the dungeon was a teenager with a Latin accent and a sports jersey...or, she had been when she entered the dungeon. Now, after race selection, she was an adult woman of the Lajabless race. Half of her time she was a beautiful woman whose right leg was that of a cloven-hoofed hairy goat. According to the recap her magic spells were twice as powerful as normal but her strength was halved. The rest of the time she was a skull-headed monstrosity with twice the strength and half the magical ability. She was in her skull-faced form, sitting on the couch next to a man with a wolf head.
"What the hell is this bullshit?" Carl asked, pointing at the screen.
"It's an arena fight show," Mordecai said. "I already told Zev to never let you on one. The fights aren't real. It's complicated." He turned to me. "Zev is their publicity agent. She arranges talk shows for them, one in the middle of each level and one in between levels. They get pulled out of the dungeon to go on them."
"Shhhh!" Donut said.
The scene cut to Lucia Mar's face, zoomed in disturbingly close. Her eye sockets teemed with bugs.
"What do you say to the challenge?" the wolf-headed host asked. "Will you come back to this show? We could make it a main event. Donut versus one or both of your boys."
"No," Lucia Mar said, her voice raspy and thick with a heavy Spanish accent. "This show is a waste of time. Every moment spent not gaining experience is a waste of time. I will find this Donut in the dungeon, where her death will be forever. Cici and Gus will tear this puta apart. And then I will rip Carl to pieces and take all of his shiny toys."
"She seems nice," Carl said.
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