“Yikes,” I said. “That sucks.” I patted Donut on the head. I was about to say something about how it would suck if Donut and I got separated, but I thought better of saying that out loud.
Hekla emerged from the guild, and the program showed a spinning, 3D version of her new character. Her new race was Amazonian. She looked mostly the same, but she was a good foot taller than before and much wider. The pretty, blonde woman had been in good shape before. Now she looked like a professional bodybuilder. It didn’t show her stats, but I could tell it was clearly a strength build with a good amount of dexterity, too.
A scrolling paragraph of text appeared, much too fast for me to read that explained her new class. She’d been allowed to pick an earth class, and she went with the obvious choice. Shieldmaiden.
“I couldn’t read what it said,” I groused.
“You’re being forced to watch on a flat display,” Mordecai said. “If you were using a standard view screen, you’d be able to grab that paragraph and pull it up. You’ll be able to buy such a display for your private base later, but they’re likely prohibitively expensive.”
The next few groups were crawlers I didn’t recognize, but who had picked odd races or classes, including a man who turned himself in a massive slug and a woman who turned herself into a four-armed, blue-skinned replica of the Hindu goddess Kali. The same woman picked an odd class called Kabaddi Raider.
“A few groups aren’t done with their selection,” the announcer said. “But it appears just about 80% of the crawlers have opted to remain human.”
“That’s way more than I thought it would be,” I said. “I’m surprised.”
“Not me,” Donut said. “You humans were always a cocky bunch.”
“You didn’t change, either,” I said.
“Of course not, Carl. Why would I stop being a cat?”
“It’s usually around that percentage,” Mordecai said. “Sometimes higher.”
“Really?” I asked.
He nodded. “Whenever there’s a poll of Syndicate citizens, the vast majority of them always say they’d change into something else if they were put in that situation. But the truth is, when people are really given the opportunity to be something else, and that change is real and permanent, most opt to stay the same. They get scared. Even if there’s an obviously better choice, it’s terrifying to take that leap. And if that something else is a major change, there’s always a learning curve. Sometimes it’s better to stay in familiar skin. Believe me, it can be a real mind bender to suddenly find yourself two feet taller or shorter. Or if you lose limbs, or worse, gain them.”
“We’re on!” Donut cried as we appeared on the screen. I was shown first. “Look, Mongo. Uncle Carl is on television.” She pointed up at the screen. Mongo looked and started bouncing up and down, waving his arms.
They played a brief history of the Primal race. They showed another human from many seasons ago who’d chosen the same race. They showed him flying through the air with white, wispy angel wings, wielding a massive sword made of lightning as he charged at a humanoid demon the size of a goddamned football stadium, standing knee-deep in a lake of fire.
“What the hell is that?” I said, watching the brief scene unfold. It faded away before the actual battle could start. The paragraph that explained what a Compensated Anarchist was appeared and disappeared.
“That, my boy, is a Divine Guardian, one of the behemoths of the 12th floor. A Country Boss. He is guarding a fire gate, an entrance to the 13th floor.”
“Holy fuck,” I said.
“Yeah,” Mordecai said.
“Is that the guy who made it to the thirteenth floor?”
“No,” Mordecai said. “But he was a famous crawler. He’s from before my time. He died a minute later. The next time you’re with your friend Odette, you should ask her about him.”
“Shush,” Donut said. “Talk after they show me!”
As they revealed Donut’s selection process, I couldn’t get the image of that Godzilla-sized monster out of my head. It was a literal kaiju. Sure, it was a country boss, second only to a level boss, but it was still only the 12th level. That was the floor Donut and I needed to get to if we wanted any sort of freedom. There were six levels after that. What sort of bosses would be down there? I thought of the rage elemental. They were regular mobs from the 13th floor. The thought of scaling up our power to that level in such a short amount of time seemed impossible.
The show ended with Lucia Mar’s transformation. Her two rottweilers, as non-sapient pets, did not get the opportunity to change, so they remained dogs.
Lucia had chosen one of the oddest, most fucked-up races I’d seen so far.
“What the hell, kid,” I said, watching the show, completely aghast at her choice. “Why?”
A Lajabless, it was called.
She’d grown from her young, street-kid appearance to a full-grown adult woman. As the 3D image spun, her face altered, from that of a great beauty to a skull-faced monstrosity. The announcer explained that she would spend half the day as a beautiful woman and the other half as lady Skeletor. While she was in her woman form, her magic ability was doubled. Spells cost half as much, but her strength was cut in half. While she was sporting her dia-de-holy-shit face, it was the opposite. Spells cost more, but she was twice as strong.
She also now walked with a limp. No more running on walls for her. Her right leg, and just her right leg, had transformed from a human limb to that of a hairy goat, complete with a cloven hoof.
As she emerged from the guildhall, clomping on her new leg, even her two dogs looked freaked out by the transformation.
“She looks like she smells really bad,” Donut said.
“That race seems like a terrible idea,” I said.
“Maybe,” said Mordecai. “But she’s likely the most powerful crawler in this game. There’s probably a slew of hidden benefits in that racial choice that makes it worth it.”
And then was her class choice. Again, I couldn’t see what the details were. Just the name.
It was a triple class. A cleric, magic-user, warrior combo called a Black Inquisitor General.
“Wow,” I said. “And I thought that kid was a scary mo-fo before.”
The show ended, and a moment later the announcement came.
Welcome, again, Crawlers to the third floor!
There are still a few stragglers working on their class and race choices, and that’s okay. The vast majority of you are out and about and just starting to learn about the wonders of the Over City. We welcome you to a Dungeon Crawler World tradition.
You all have made some wondrous and unique choices. Of the just under 700,000 crawlers who’ve made a decision, we have seen almost 40,000 different class choices. Can you believe that? That is a record, and we are very proud to see such diversity.
A couple announcements regarding this third floor. While the bathroom penalties have been removed, we want to remind the crawlers that restrooms still populate this floor. In the villages you may find restrooms in any pub and in some shops. In the ruins, the toilets are just as prevalent as they were on the higher floors. Please do not force us to backtrack.
We are already seeing much interest in the sponsorship program. And while the program doesn’t officially get underway until the fourth floor, potential sponsors now have the ability to put in early bids. Therefore, remember to be as entertaining as possible!
Finally, many of you are discovering new abilities and spells and wish to try them out. We urge you to do so. But this is just a general warning that any attempts of violence against non-combatant NPCs should be avoided. While this practice is technically not against the rules, the Borant corporation wishes to keep the citizenry as safe as possible. As a result, we have adjusted the experience counter for citizens down to zero. In addition, city guards have been given a slight boost in stats.