Chapter 169 (Patreon)

I wasn’t given the opportunity to say goodbye to the Popovs. After the lights flicked on, about twenty gnoll guards flooded the room. They took the sharpie from me and collected the other two. I had to remain in the now-featureless production room as the twins were ushered back to their space.

“Bye, Carl!” Dmitri called. “Tell Donut I said hi!”

The gnoll guards surrounded me, saying nothing, grim faced. I did not see any I recognized.

“Come on,” I finally said. “You have to admit, that was pretty awesome.”

A guard on the end burst into laughter, but a growl from another guard shut him up pretty quick. Then, without another word, they turned and left as Zev entered the room. She waddled forward, trailing water on the metal ground.

“Carl,” she said. “We can’t bring you anywhere.”

“He deserved it. He got in my face.”

“Well, you should know that he is fine and has been healed. He wants to press charges for assault.”

I just blinked at her. The idea was so absurd that it didn’t even make me angry. “Are you kidding me? Assault?”

She shook her head. “Carl, criminal charges are serious. He’s off system, so the attack isn’t under Borant jurisdiction. The regular rules apply. You’re not a full citizen, and he is.”

I still sat in the chair, and I leaned back and crossed my arms. “Yeah, what are they going to do?”

“The charges, if the prosecution wants to pursue it, will be filed and then shelved until you’re released from the dungeon. It’s happened before. If you’re successfully prosecuted, you’ll be given a warrant with an associated sentence, usually two or three cycles. Odette had a warrant, for example. Of course she’s now married to the president of the corporation who bought her out because she’s Odette.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“The Syndicate doesn’t have or use long-term prisons. The lighter the crime, the higher the warrant and the shorter the amount of time. After three or four warrants are imposed, the amount of time usually tops out at 20 cycles, and the warrant is lowered. So, if you’re arrested for shoplifting, you can get a year sentence and a warrant for maybe 50,000 credits. The clock starts ticking at the moment of sentencing. If a third party, usually a licensed system government or mega-corporation, needs able-bodied workers for a project, they have the option of buying out warrants. Usually, those with high warrants aren’t picked up unless there’s a war going on somewhere, and they’re desperate for bodies. If someone’s warrant is lowered to three digits, it usually guarantees they’ll be franchised for the remainder of their sentence.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I said. “So prisoners are sold as slaves?”

“Sort of,” Zev said. “It’s expensive. If your warrant is 1,000 credits and 10 cycles, they don’t just pay 1,000 credits. They have to pay the franchise fee, which is something like five times the warrant amount per cycle. Plus they have to pay you that amount when you get out. Plus the warrant to the court in question. So a 1,000 credit warrant really translates to over 100,000. Plus they have to feed and house and transport you. It’s not cost effective unless your warrant is really low, and it only gets low if you’ve committed multiple offenses. Nobody ever gets purchased if their warrant is one cycle because the clock is always ticking, and it usually takes months to even get the person to the work location, and they have to guarantee their return passage to the location where they were picked up. It’s not true slavery because the criminals get paid when they get out. Assuming they survive. But the corporations have to pay the full expenses plus a death tax, so it’s always in their best interests to keep the person alive. Franchisees are usually sent to frontier planets to help set up new colonies or factories or mining locations. It’s rare for them to be used for war nowadays.”

“That’s still slavery,” I said, shaking my head. “And people are okay with this?”

“They’re criminals,” Zev said.

I took a breath. “So, what’s the penalty for sticking a pen into the neck of an asshole naga?”

“If you’re convicted, you’ll get a light sentence. Maybe 30,000 credits and three cycles. But you’re no ordinary crawler, Carl. Someone like the Skull Empire will buy you out.”

I stood and stretched my back. I’d been fighting and killing every day for weeks now. The idea of me getting out of the dungeon and eventually getting punished for barely scratching this guy seemed just... I didn’t know. Stupid. Ridiculous. Irrational. But also par for the course. “Can I buy out my own warrant?”

“Technically, it’s not allowed. It happens, of course. You have to be a licensed organization, and the franchisees can’t be associated with the purchasing entity. But of course it happens. Prince Maestro is franchised to a subsidiary of a subsidiary that’s wholly owned by the Skull Empire. They weren’t owned at the time, but they were later acquired by the empire. A loophole that only the ultra-rich can afford. It was big news when it happened. It pays to be wealthy.”

“Whatever,” I said, deciding the universe deserved this dystopian nightmare. The odds of me ever having to suffer the consequences for this were infinitesimal. I started to move toward the green room door. “At least I’m not in trouble with the dungeon for this one. Why was that dude so angry, anyway?”

“I never said you weren’t in trouble. You’ll probably get extra security on you from now on. And Nihit is a naga. They all have issues controlling their emotions. Plus, his brother is married into the Blood Sultanate and is participating in faction wars. He wants you and Donut out of the dungeon before you get down there. He seems to think that you’re some sort of antichrist figure sent from the heavens to bring about the apocalypse. You and Donut. It’s a small, but growing, conspiracy amongst some populations. Most everyone else loves you two.”

I grunted with amusement, but it only lasted a moment. It was always there, in the back of my mind. The impossible task we had before us. If we ever made it to the ninth floor, Donut would have to deal with the Blood Sultanate’s army. But it was worse than that, thanks to her long-lost Crown of the Sepsis Whore. I’d read the description so many times, I had it memorized:

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.

So, we’d have to make sure all the members of the Blood Sultanate were dead before she’d be allowed to leave the floor. And while the nagas usually had their asses handed to them during the fighting, I now knew that the royals themselves always made it to the end. Always. Getting to them was going to be a difficult if not impossible task.

If Quasar pulled through for me, the task might be slightly easier. But even then, it was still going to be a tall order.

When Donut lost the crown at the end of the third floor, the crown was regenerated and possibly awarded to someone else. As far as we knew, that person wasn’t stupid enough to put it on, or if they had, they were already dead. If some other crawler put it on, we’d have to make sure they were dead, too, before Donut could exit the ninth floor.

“So, this Nihit guy thinks there’s a way to physically harm those guys on the ninth floor?” I asked.

Zev sighed. “You might want to worry about surviving the sixth floor first, Carl.”

~

“He wanted to meet me? Really?” Donut asked when I finished telling her and Mordecai everything that happened. “Well, I would be honored. It’s always a pleasure to meet a fan. Even if he’s part of a weird ogre thing with two heads. They didn’t smell, did they? They look like they might smell.”

“After everything I told you, that’s what you’re on about?” I asked. “Just how much control do you have over this Princess Posse thing?”

“Oh, that’s nothing. I already saw and approved the shirt design days ago. I’m hoping someone sends one into the dungeon so you can wear it. I must have mentioned it a hundred times by now. Honestly, Carl. Sometimes I think you don’t listen me. I believe there are only 700 or so chapters up and running. The AI filters through most of the messages, so it’s difficult to tell. But I’m glad to see some of our initiatives are moving forward.” She sighed dramatically. “It’s important to leave the universe a better place than where you found it.”

“You’re advocating for the genocide of dogs,” I said. “People don’t like it when you hurt dogs.”

“My numbers tell another story, Carl. If someone is going to get all butthurt about it, there’s simply nothing I can do. It’s done, and I’m not sorry. If they’re okay with all the baby goblins you slaughtered way back on the first floor, then it’s something they’re gonna have to put up with. And it’s not all dogs. It’s just one kind. I suppose some of the breeds are endearing in their own stupid, slobbering way. Like Labradors and pugs and those ones who look like black, Rastafarian mops. It’s not genocide, anyway. I’m sure there are some cocker spaniels left running about the surface being smelly and disgusting and mauling toddlers.”

“It’s a bad idea,” I said. “Do you know how much money they’ve collected for this?”

“I don’t know. Whenever someone talks about money on the boards, they filter it out. That’s why I should’ve been included on the signing.” She suddenly gasped. “You don’t think a member of the posse is embezzling funds, do you? Certainly not. I wish you’d asked more questions. You never know how to properly interrogate fans, Carl.”

“She really said he’s pressing charges against you?” Mordecai asked, changing the subject. He shook his little, furry head. “I’d like to see that one go to trial. Odette’s trial was a farce. It was this whole production, and she pleaded down to a lesser charge just before they reached a verdict.”

“Wait,” I said. “You saw Odette’s trial?”

“Yeah,” Mordecai said. “I testified in it. Against her.”

“But she was a crawler long before you.”

“She wasn’t charged when she was a crawler. It was when she was my manager. Now open your boxes and get back out there.”

“I hope you get something good in yours,” Donut grumbled. The red gem added to Donut’s leadership charm had added +2 to her intelligence and +1 to her dexterity and a few points to some spear-throwing skill that she would never be able to use, which had pissed her off. Especially since the tax stipend for the small-sized settlement was only 403 gold every ten days.

I sighed. I had a Gold Tyrant Box from killing a mayor and the Gold Benefactor Box from the Plenty. According to my sponsor menu, these new guys only sponsored three people in the dungeon. Me, Miriam Dom, and Prepotente.

“That reminds me. Did you ever hear back from Pony?”

“No. I tried again, but I think...” She paused. “Carl, Carl, I just got a gold box from the Apothecary!” She hopped up and down. “Now we both have boxes to open!”

“Then you best get on with it,” Mordecai said.

I opened the Tyrant’s box, and it was a sliver of an amethyst, smaller than the “poor sapphire” I already had on my necklace. It gave me +3 to my dexterity, and nothing else.

The next box moved into place.

The symbol for the Plenty was a creepy eyeball thing with a bunch of squiggles coming off it. It looked like something that would be spray-painted on the wall at the scene of a ritual murder. I remembered how creepy those goat kids were, and how disturbing the adult at the sponsorship ceremony had been. It was no damn wonder people didn’t trust these guys. Everything about them gave me the heebies.

The gold box hissed and spun, opening like a flower, revealing a patch for my jacket.

“Huh,” I said, picking it up. It was another patch identical in size to my white bomb one, but this was made of a black, denim-like material with a gray goat head screen-printed on it. Donut immediately scoffed and started muttering about screen printing. Before I could fully examine it, I received a notification.

You have received a Silver Benefactor Box from the Apothecary.

“Well, shit,” I said.

Donut was already in the process of opening her own box, which was gold, not silver. She gasped as the sparkling bracelet popped out. She immediately equipped it. She moved the obsidian bracelet that allowed her to cast Fireball to her right forward leg and this new one to the left. She kept her fallen oak anklet tucked on her back leg, and her the +2 dexterity one on the other back leg. This new one glittered silver with little purple gems. Now that she had bracelets on all four of her legs, she couldn’t add any more.

“Oh, I just love it. Doesn’t it look divine? I don’t know about that description, though. It sounds like the AI is having a stroke.”

“Uh-oh,” Mordecai said as he examined the bracelet. He grunted. “It’s pretty clear the Apothecary and the Plenty really are working together. At least when it comes to your sponsorship prizes. That’ll be sure to stop all those rumors.”

I examined Donut’s silver bracelet. The attached, purple gem had an odd shape, almost like a bulb of garlic. After reading the description, I realized that’s exactly what it was.

Enchanted Silver Bracelet of the Ab-solar.

“AnD SO The lioN fEll iN lOVe WiTh The LaMB.”

I’m actually quite fond of the Twilight novels. Plus, I would never stoop so low as to disparage the work of an over-imaginative and obviously undersexed artist who managed to become a brazilianaire from barely-disguised erotica targeted at adolescent girls. However, I would like to take this opportunity to point out that your culture’s obsession with fictional teenaged heroes was absolutely misguided.

Paul Atreides was fifteen years old. Harry Potter was just eleven in the beginning of the first book. The kids from Stranger Things were all tweens. Kid ‘n Play were (portrayed to be) high schoolers when they threw that epic party.

Fairy tales. Myths. Lies.

Spoiler alert. Kids are all idiots, and when they’re forced into a life or death situation, they overwhelmingly make stupid decisions and get themselves killed. Like almost right away. They’re like that rabbit you see sitting on the side of the road that decides to dart in front of your car at the worst possible moment. They’re so efficient at getting themselves squished, you can’t help but wonder if they doing it on purpose. Go ahead. Complain. Tell me I’m wrong. Trust me on this one. I’ve done some pretty extensive and conclusive research on the matter.

This apotropaic talisman looks like something a goth teenaged girl would shoplift from a Hot Topic. A girl who dreams about one day meeting a hundred-year-old predator and making him fall in love with her.

Remember, it’s not a crime if he’s handsome or rich or looks like a teenager.

Anyway, this bracelet imbues the following effects:

Protection against Vampirism.

Protection against Lycanthropy.

+25% Magical damage against all sapient undead.

“Fuck,” I said.

“The description has nothing to do with the item,” Donut complained. “And Twilight was a great movie. I only saw the first one because you made Miss Beatrice turn the second one off that one time we were watching it because you were jealous. Also, Stranger Things was a great television show up until when Barb died.” She lifted her leg and admired the item. “But it sure is pretty. It’s purple!”

“It gets worse. Read the description on your patch,” Mordecai said. “You’ll want to sew it on right away.”

I examined it. The symbol was of a weird, satanic goat. I’d seen it before. Prepotente had a tattoo on the back of his furry, human-like hand of the same thing. I’d even sketched it out the best I could in the cookbook. I’d been assuming it was for a deity, like the twin sun disk tattoos on the back of my hands. I was wrong.

Upgrade Patch. Medium.

Ah, yes. The Midnight Epicure. The Caprid Who Devours the Sky. This scary-ass fable is used to terrify children across the universe. Eat your dinner, or the Midnight Epicure will come eat it for you. He will not be satisfied by the meal and will in turn devour every child in the home. Best draw a picture of him and put it in your window to let him know you’re on to his tricks.

I’m pretty sure this fairy tale was devised by Big Therapy in order to keep themselves in work.

Over the cycles, the rather disturbing symbol of the Midnight Epicure, which is really just a racist caricature of an adult Caprid, developed into a ward against all night evils.

If this upgrade patch is affixed to an eligible garment, it will imbue the following upgrades:

Protection against Vampirism.

Protection against Lycanthropy.

+25% Magical damage against all sapient undead.

Warning: Upgrade patches are fleeting items. You may remove them, but they will be destroyed in the process.

“Weird,” I said. The descriptions were different, but the patch and the bracelet gave the exact same benefits. I would also get +1 to all my stats once I added it, which I intended to do right away.

“They obviously know something you don’t, so you better put it on,” said Mordecai.

“The only vampire we know is Miriam Dom,” Donut said. “Are they saying we’ll have to fight her? I don’t want to fight her. She’s really nice.”

“I... I don’t know. I’ll have to sew it myself,” I said. Katia was out and once again chasing Eva’s team.

“Don’t worry. I’ll help you,” Donut said.

I opened my second benefactor box. The silver box from the Apothecary.

It was two items. Two pieces of paper. The first was a potion recipe. The second was a drawing. A drawing of Mongo. After I read the recipe, it was clear what the connection between the two items was.

I handed both pieces of paper to Mordecai, who made a squeaking noise. “Holy cow,” he said. “I’ve been chasing this one for fifty cycles!” His eyes scanned the page. “Of course! You don’t chill it. You put it in the centrifuge and then flash-freeze it! Of course. Gah, I almost had it. So simple, too.”

“Do you have all the ingredients?” I asked.

“Actually, I do,” he said. “You already collected the thorn sap tips, which are pretty rare, but we now have dozens of them. The hard one is the last item. And we have that as well.”

We both turned to look at Mongo, who blinked and cocked his head to the side. He then screeched back at us with concern.

“What? What is it?” Donut asked.

I exchanged a look with Mordecai, and then I slid the potion recipe over to show her, along with the photo of Mongo.

The recipe was for a potion of Tame Animal. The potion had to be brewed for a specific animal, and it required a special ingredient to work.

“She gave you a photo of Mongo!” Donut exclaimed. “What a nice prize! Mongo, look! It’s a picture of...” she trailed off, her eyes going wide once she actually read the recipe. “Absolutely not. You’re going to have to find another way.”

“It’s just blood,” I said. “We’ll need to do it outside a saferoom and collect a liter of it.”

“Per potion,” Mordecai added. “You can heal him each time you collect it.”

“I am Mongo’s mommy, and he trusts me implicitly. I will not break that trust. A liter is a lot, too! Not a chance. We just got all this anti-vampire stuff, and here you two are talking about draining Mongo’s blood. No. No way. Mongo, come here this instant where Mommy can protect you.”

Mongo scurried around the kitchen counter and hid behind Donut.

“Donut, I will make a potion to cause Mongo to sleep. He won’t even know.”

“I’ll know, Mordecai.”

I was about to say something when I was interrupted by a message.

Miriam Dom: I need help. Are you still near Prepotente number four? I am not far. I am trapped. Dawn will break in 10 hours, and if you do not come before then, I will not survive.

~

Donut and Mordecai bickered back and forth as I rapidly chatted with the vampire woman. They both realized I was talking to someone and stopped to watch me.

Carl: Where are you?

Miriam Dom: I am few hours east of that town, maybe 25 kilometers and approximately a kilometer south of the big river bend.

I pulled out the physical version of the rough map Katia had made for everybody, and I could see the approximate location. It was in the middle of the forest with no towns anywhere nearby. I tapped it on the map. Mordecai and Donut looked down at the spot.

Carl: What’s your situation? And where’s your partner?

Miriam Dom: I tried asking for help from you earlier, but the system would not allow me to talk to you. I asked others, but none are close enough. I asked them to get in touch with you, but they all said it wouldn’t let them.

Sure enough, I saw a line of messages from people passing on Miriam’s increasingly-frantic messages. The messages had only just appeared. Weird, I thought, until I saw the keyword floating in a few of the message previews.

Elite.

Carl: I can’t help if an elite is involved. I’m really sorry. It’s a long story.

Miriam Dom: The elite is dead. The quest is done. Pony killed him, but he got himself paralyzed in the process. They were both frozen, and the elite fool finally died just a few minutes ago when the sun set. It is also a long story. Bianca is in a pet carrier in Pony’s inventory, and he can’t let her out. He is paralyzed for thirty more hours.

Carl: Thirty hours?

Miriam Dom: It was 45. His arm is around my waist. I can’t break it free. If any part of him breaks, even his thumb, he will shatter. I have been fighting off small mobs, but now that dark has returned, so will the dinosaurs, and I fear I will not be able to keep us safe.

Carl: We’re on our way. But how did you survive out in the daylight?

Miriam Dom: The sunlight drains me quickly. I alternated between my Revive spell and the blood potion. I’ve had to cast over and over again, and I only have a handful of potions left. I am down to five. If I even survive the night, I will be able to keep myself alive for maybe a half an hour in the new day.

“Listen up, guys.” I pulled out a pen. I marked where Miriam Dom was trapped, quickly explaining the situation. There were two towns between here and there.

“Mordecai, how long will it take for you to make that tame animal potion?”

“Fifteen minutes once I have the ingredients.”

“What about the knockout potion?”

Both Donut and Mongo screeched with outrage.

“I’ll need another fifteen.”

Donut harrumphed. “If something happens to Mongo, I’ll never forgive you, Mordecai.”

“He’ll be fine,” Mordecai said. “But...”

“Here’s the plan,” I interrupted, talking rapidly. I tapped the first town. I cringed when I saw it was a dryad settlement. “We’ll collect the knockout potion from you here, and then we’ll collect Mongo’s blood and heal him. We’ll only have time for one.” I tapped the next town, which was also a dryad town. “We’ll collect the tame animal potion here.”

Mordecai held up a hand. “Or,” he said, lowering his voice. “You just let her die, and you collect her gear in morning.”

“Why would I do that?” I asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe because two different sponsors, who know more than you do, just spent a huge amount of money to protect you from vampirism. And just by coincidence, a vampire shows up and asks you to come help her the moment the sun sets. I know I’m not as valuable as I once was, but I can’t help but see a connection there, Carl.”

“She saved my life just a few days ago,” I said as I grabbed the sewing kit. “If it’s a trap designed to get us to turn to vampires, then we’ll be protected. I’m not going to abandon her. That’s not what we do here. She’s been asking for help for hours. Either a hunter or player killer is going to get wind of her situation and move in. We don’t have time.”

I started to rapidly sew the patch in a spot right next to the bomb patch. Donut gasped as my wide stiches covered up Katia’s deliberate, careful threading.

“Carl, it’s not straight!”

“It’s good enough,” I said as I stitched it in place. I received an achievement and a few skill levels in sewing. The patch glowed as it was officially affixed. I pulled the jacket back on.

“Let’s go!”

“Oh boy, another adventure!” Samantha cried from her spot on the kitchen counter. Donut had forced the filthy thing through the cleaning module. Minus the gash on her chin, she looked as if she’d come straight from the sex doll head factory. Her gleaming, white hair was put up in wavy pigtails. Had she been on the kitchen counter this whole time? Surely she hadn’t jumped up there on her own.

“You’re staying back this time,” I said. She growled and wailed as we moved to the door.

“Wait, wait,” Mordecai called. “I have an idea.” He hopped sideways into the crafting room.

“We’re on the clock, Mordecai,” I yelled as Samantha continued to bitch.

He came back out a moment later, two potion balls cradled in his small arms. He moved to the Emberus shrine at the back of the room and dipped the balls in the red water and then brought them to me.

“Take these,” he said. “I’ll make a few more that you can grab at the next stop. But you should have them. Just in case.”

“What are they?” I asked, pulling them both into my inventory. The system labeled them Holy Goopers.

“Blessed water mixed with a fine healing potion and an air-activated coagulant in a potion ball. Emberus is a light-based god. I keep forgetting that. The blood water from the shrine combined with a healing potion and the coagulant acts like napalm to vampires. Hit ‘em with this, and then have Donut max out her Light spell. Any vampire will be turned to dryer lint.”

“So they’re holy water grenades? Cool.”

“Exactly.”

~

We exited the guildhall and moved cautiously into the attached pub with all the hockey paraphernalia. Donut rode on Mongo’s back as we creeped forward toward the exit to the street.

Darkness had descended, and none of the pub’s torches were lit. Donut cast Light, keeping it on the lowest setting. A sickly, yellow glow illuminated the empty pub. The stench of death hung heavy in the humid air, clawing its way into my nose and sinuses, settling heavily. The pattering of rain slapping into puddles and corpses drifted into the pub. The ceiling dripped in several places. The bloody bear claw remained affixed to the wall by the door. It appeared extra ghoulish in the yellow light.

“Turn it off! Turn it off!” a female voice hissed. I jumped in surprise as Mongo screeched. We all turned to face the speaker. It was an ursine, peeking up from behind the counter. Her dot was white on the map. We hadn’t seen her until just now. “Turn it off!” she repeated. “She’s out there. She’ll see!”

“Do it,” I whispered, and Donut complied, plunging us into darkness.

Outside, a horrific, meaty roar shook the walls. Mongo replied by screeching back and turning toward the open door.

“You have to keep him quiet! She already came in here once. Ate my husband right out of the doorway! Please, please. I have two little ones with me!”

“Mongo, shush,” Donut said, patting him on the head. “Remember what we talked about.” Mongo growled.

The sound of soft weeping filled the pub, mixed in with the rain. Children. Two of them. The three of us moved behind the bar.

The NPC sat there, huddled on the floor. She was a large bear wearing an apron. Two small, male cubs were clutched in her arms. One had his eyes clenched shut, shivering and afraid. The either looked up at Mongo, wide-eyed.

Mongo peeped with concern at the children. They whimpered and cuddled closer to their mother as he approached.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” I whispered. The ground shook as something huge walked by outside. We all crouched down to hide. We don’t have time for this.

“We’re gonna let it pass, okay?”

Nobody answered.

I examined the female bear.

Prudence. Level 28 Ursine Barmaid.

She had a debuff blinking over her head. Terrified.

“Prudence,” I said. “Is that Big Tina out there?”

“It is,” she whispered. Her eyes glowed with fear. “She came back. I knew she’d come back. Getting her revenge. The others can’t control her anymore.”

Another angry roar rocked the street.

“Explain it to me,” I said. “Revenge for what?”

“For what they did to her. Long ago. The clerics.”

The dinosaur had parked herself just outside. The ground rumbled again. There was a distant crash and scream, followed by a sickening crunch. I remembered the tall building across the way from this pub. She was breaking the windows and pulling bears out, like one of those Christmas advent calendars. If the bears were all suffering from this Terrified debuff, I knew they wouldn’t even be able to run away.

I put my hand on the trembling woman’s leg.

Donut moved to my shoulder. “Prudence,” she said. “Tell us what they did to her.”

The woman swallowed, but she finally answered. “When Scolopendra struck, and the world turned upside down, the nine-tier attack killed almost everyone. But others were transformed. Most of the female ursine were changed. Changed into the reptilian beasts.”

“So the dinosaurs used to be bears?” Donut asked. “Carl, did you hear that? Mongo was molested by a bear!”

“Let her finish,” I said.

“Even before the cataclysm, the clerics... they could be cruel, yes. But it’s the work we have to do. Piety is the path we must follow. We mustn’t stray. The path is what leads us to eternal paradise. It keeps us from getting lost.”

“Mama,” one of the boys squeaked. This one was named Randy. “Mama, make it go away.” He pointed at Mongo.

“That’s not a bad one, stupid,” the other boy said. He was Todd. It looked as if they were twins. Or from the same litter or whatever. “It’s a mongoliensis. They don’t attack mamas or kids.”

“This is Mongo,” Donut said. “Mongo is a nice dinosaur.”

Mongo peeped in agreement.

“Keep going,” I said. I might as well get the story out of her while we could.

“Dancing is forbidden,” Prudence said. “But a community of mothers formed, and they taught several of the children the old ways. The art of dance. The art of ballet.”

“Ballet?” I asked. “Are you kidding me?”

“I know, I know,” Prudence said. “A sin most foul. But they taught the children anyway. As the story goes, they planned on having a secret performance for the children and their families. Just a small recital at the school after hours where the children would dress in costumes and dance.” Prudence shook her head sadly. “Those poor, lost souls.”

“What happened?” Donut asked, leaning in.

“One of the dancers was the daughter of the town’s head cleric. Despite being only eight years old, she was the best of the dancers, and she practiced more than anybody else. She was to go last. A solo performance. Her name was Tina. The day of the recital came, and girls went on stage. But Tina’s father had somehow learned of the secret recital, and he along with a group of clerics set out to find where the performance was being held to put a stop to it. They finally discovered the location, and they stormed the school just as Tina was to take the stage.”

“Oh no,” Donut gasped.

“Tina’s mother tried to stop her husband. She slapped him in front of everybody. In front of the congregation. It was unheard of.”

“So Tina never got to dance?” Donut asked. “She must’ve been so sad!”

“The cleric had no choice. He was forced to push his daughter aside and whip the mother. But in his anger and humiliation, he went too far. He was possessed that night, they said. He whipped his wife to the edge of death, right upon the stage in front of his daughter. And when he pushed Tina aside, she fell and hurt herself. She had a magical wand that was supposed to shoot sparkles during her performance. It broke when she fell.”

“Sinners get what they deserve,” little Randy said.

“That’s right, honey,” Prudence said. She continued. “After he was done beating the mother, the cleric announced he would be forced to punish all the parents and children who participated. But before he got his chance, it happened. The nine-tier attack.”

“The judgement of the gods,” Randy replied.

“Good boy. Most died. Some ursine were transformed. Only the females. The surviving men were unchanged. Only a small handful of women survived unchanged, including my grandmother. She was the most pious. Her faith saved her.”

“Christ,” I muttered.

“Scolopendra turned them to demons. The sinners. They do not age. They can’t procreate. They’re only a shell of what they once were, and they serve as a reminder of their wickedness.”

“And now little Tina is Big Tina,” I said.

“She’s the only child who turned,” the woman said. “Her mind is gone. She has lost all of her faith. While she kills everyone she meets, she actively hunts ursine. Her mother survives along with several of the other mothers from that evening. But they are in the form of dinosaurs like your companion. They are vicious, and they also kill, but they’re not as deranged. Tina’s mother still attempts to keep Tina from doing too much damage, but something has changed. Tina is stronger than ever now, and the others can’t stop her.”

“Uh, do you know what Tina’s mother’s name is?” I asked.

“It is Kiwi,” Prudence said.

Donut gasped as I reached over and scratched Mongo’s head. “Hey, buddy. It looks like you banged Tina’s mom.”

Quest Update. The Recital.

Big Tina is out of control. She’s on a rampage, killing every ursine she can find. She’s angrier than ever. Her violence, which used to be an occasional nuisance, has turned into a looming threat for everyone in the hunting grounds. If she’s not dealt with soon, the High Elves may field their army in order to deal with it. You do not want that to happen.

Tina must be stopped. Kill her or give her what she wants.

“Oh my god, Carl,” Donut said. “This is just like the plot to Footloose! They’re stealing storylines now!”

“I don’t remember the part where the girl turns into a murderous dinosaur after her dad tells her she can’t dance,” I said.

“Maybe that was in part two.”

“It says we have to give her what she wants,” I said. “What do you think that means? To kill all the ursine?”

The walls shook as Tina collected another snack from a nearby building. Next to me, the two cubs whimpered.

“Of course not, Carl,” Donut said. “Didn’t you see the movie? It’s quite obvious.”

I just looked at her.

“She wants to dance! We have to finish the recital!”

Holy shit. Of course. “How in the flying fuck are we supposed to do that? We should just kill her.”

Splatch. I turned my head at the noise. What was that? It was inside the pub.

I peeked over the counter, searching just as the red dot appeared on my map. I caught movement on the floor of the pub. It was the bear claw. It had fallen, and now it was dragging itself away, like a inchworm. It moved out the door and out into the rainy night.

Glamoured Fragment – Ursine Claw (Left). Level 5.

4.2% of the whole.

This is a minion of Big Tina.

When you think about it, vampires are basically necromancers with an eating disorder. The fact these minion things exist is testament to that.

A glamoured minion can only be created by a vampire two sunsets after the victim was originally killed. In its current form, it’s nothing more than an uninteresting yet reanimated body part, and it’s now trying to find its way to the rest of its body. Poor little guy. It just wants to go home.

Here’s the thing. A vampire kill scene usually looks like the Wal-Mart toy aisle on Black Friday. In other words, vampires are notoriously messy when they get to a’slaughtering. Usually the rest of the body parts are all squished and gross and half-digested and thrown all over the place. When that happens, the pieces just meld into other orphaned pieces and form a Shambling Berserker, which is a horrific monster in its own right. But if the pieces can actually reunite 70% of their original bodies, they become something quite deadly.

“Fuck me,” I muttered. “So that’s why they’re giving us all the vampire stuff.”

“Wait, I don’t understand,” Donut said. “The dinosaur is also a vampire? Big Tina is a vampire tyrannosaurus rex?”

“She’s an allosaurus,” little Todd said, looking up from his mother’s fur. “She has three fingers, not two. That means she’s an allosaurus.”

“I know how to count, Todd,” Donut said.

Quest Update. The Recital.

Surprise, motherfuckers. Strap yourselves in. You don’t know the half of it. It’s about to get bumpy.

Outside, the world rumbled as Tina roared again.


~~~~

Happy Halloween! Was hoping to get chapter 170 out today too, but. I wanted to make sure you got at least one more chapter this month. I am currently sitting at a con selling books on shitty wifi.

Hey! Check this out: https://soundbooththeater.com/shop/audiobooks/kaiju-battlefield-surgeon-episode-one-the-mural/

This is free and will release in installments. Next episode coming at the end of the year.