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THE DUNGEON GROANED. IT FUCKING GROANED.
I sighed as I wiped my foot on the metal bar of the cage. The entire dungeon rumbled as if it was experiencing a small earthquake. My HUD flickered. I felt dirty and sick. I rubbed my foot over and over, but the blood wouldn’t come off.
The boss fight officially ended, and the distant door opened. The thirteen danger dingoes fled into the hallway, scattering away to the wind.
I looted the neighborhood map. Dozens of red dots filled the hallways.
These were newly-generated brindle grubs. I watched as the white dots of the dingoes continued to run toward the main artery hall, snatching up and killing the grubs they passed. The dingoes, as a pack, hit the main passage and their dots disappeared.
I wondered what would happen if they ran across another group of crawlers. Probably nothing good, at least not for the crawlers. Either way, they wouldn’t bother us again.
“Let’s see what’s in this main room,” I said.
We stepped over the slagged, still smoldering remains of the kobolds.
Most of their bodies had been destroyed. I picked through what was left, looting a few spiked helmets and gold coins here and there. One had a scroll of Heal Critter and a handful of pet biscuits.
The small gerbil cage lay on the floor, undamaged by the fire. I tossed it into my inventory.
The kobold who’d pressed the button to open the cages also had a key. I examined its properties.
Master Pen Key Opens the individual cages of both the fighters and the bait animals within the kobold fighting pits. This key is magically attuned to the kobold race. If you are not a kobold and attempt to use this key, it will
only work once before breaking.
Choose wisely.
We stepped into the arena, and I was immediately assaulted by the stench of death. A small, round fighting arena stood empty. The dirt floor was stained red. Against the left wall stood a pile of bones as tall as the ceiling.
Several dozen chairs made of hardened wood circled the arena. I picked them up and looted them all before approaching the line of cages against the back of the chamber.
The moment we approached the cages, each filled with a different type of monster, two achievements popped up.
New achievement! I’ll take the ceramic dalmatian, Pat!
You have discovered a reward room! Scattered throughout the dungeon, reward rooms offer crawlers items generally not available within loot boxes. Most reward rooms only allow one choice. So, if you’re in a party of multiple people, tell them I said you should get the prize, not them.
Reward: Don’t be a greedy bitch. The goddamned room is the reward.
New achievement! Menagerie!
You have discovered a pet reward room. From caterpillars who secrete vodka to basilisks who can turn mobs to stone, a good pet can make the difference between survival and the end of the road. Just remember what happened with Harambe. There ain’t no zookeepers around to shoot the monster’s ass if you bite off more than you can chew.
Reward: You have a key. It opens only one cage. Figure it out, Einstein.
“Well, shit,” I said, looking over the choices. “I guess we’re getting a pet.”
“I get to pick,” Donut said. “The thing said it was my prize.”
“Yeah, Donut. It said the same thing to both of us. It’s trying to get us to fight.”
“Really? Well that was mean.” She gasped as she noticed the very last cage. “Carl, Carl, give me the key!”
There was a line of ten cages. None of the creatures looked particularly impressive. But then again, that gerbil hadn’t looked too impressive either.
Still, I suspected since this was only the second floor and the first of these treasure rooms we’d come across, none of these guys were super rare or valuable.
I was hesitant about this. In most games I’d played, you could only have one pet at a time. Would that be the case here? If so, how hard was it to give up the pet? I had no idea.
The first animal was a parrot thing with a long beak, and it was easily the loudest thing here. Its dot was red. I examined it, but the system didn’t give me any info other than its name. Juvenile Riven Wing.
The next was a green slime, then a rat, then a meatball with two legs and a mohawk called a Tummy Acher. Of the first four, only the slime and the rat had white dots. A row of equally-pitiful animals followed, looking up at us, including a white-tagged brindle grub. I thought of those massive, deadly Brindled Vespas and thought maybe that’d be a good choice.
But Donut only had eyes on that last cage.
It was a chicken dinosaur thing with pink, downy feathers. The monster cooed up at the cat, making a chirping noise.
The thing looked pitiful. I immediately saw why Donut liked it. It landed firmly in the it’s-so-damn-ugly-it’s-cute category. It was probably seven inches tall. It stood on two legs and cocked its head at me. The damn thing looked like a raw piece of chicken with a few, random pink-hued feathers attached to it. It had two tiny forearms instead of wings, and a long, serpentine tail. It squawked, opening its beaked mouth, revealing a row of sharp, tiny teeth.
It was called a Mongoliensis. It was also red-tagged.
“Is it a boy or girl?” Donut asked. “How can I tell? If it’s a boy I’m gonna call him Mongo.” The chicken thing chirped at Donut. “If it’s a girl I’m naming her Sissy.”
“It looks like dinner,” I said. “I think we should get the brindle grub.”
“Give it a pet biscuit,” Donut said. “See if its dot changes to white.”
I sighed and pulled a pet biscuit out. I tried to toss it into the cage, but a blue forcefield appeared, blocking the treat. The chicken cried in outrage and slammed its head against the bars. All up and down the row, all the creatures
started squealing and squawking.
If we were going to get a pet, I knew it would be for the best to let Donut have the creature. I didn’t know for certain what attribute counted the most toward keeping it happy and not murdering us in our sleep, but I imagined charisma had a major role. And maybe strength. Donut outranked me in both.
I weighed whether or not I should attempt to overrule her.
“If it’s a girl, we can get her a little dress, and she can sit on my shoulder when we do interviews. Can’t you just see it? I’ll be like Paris Hilton with
Tinkerbell.”
“Donut,” I said. “I really think..”
Warning: The cages will permanently close in thirty seconds.
Translation: hurry the hell up.
“Carl, quick! Please, please, please! I’ll never ask for anything ever again.
I promise!”
I sighed. “It’s going to attack us. I’ll grab it, and you try feeding it.”
I took the key, and I jammed it into the lock of the mongoliensis cage. I cracked the door, and the little bastard shot out. I grasped it in both hands. It started thrashing and attempting to bite me. The thing barely weighed anything at all.
I had to sit on the ground while Donut pulled a few pet biscuits from her inventory. They appeared on the ground in front of the thing. It continued to fight me, but it slowed down, eyeing the food. I eased my double-handed grip enough for it to peck at the food like a chicken. It took a few bites then
squawked.
The dot remained red.
“Carl, it’s a boy! It’s okay, Mongo. I’m sorry I said I’d put you in a dress.
We’ll get you a nice little bow tie, would you like that?”
The creature snapped forward and bit Donut directly on the nose. She
squealed in pain.
“Bad! Bad Mongo!”
The baby dinosaur, still in my grip, started screaming back at the cat while I tried to keep myself from falling over with laughter. Donut hissed and swatted it lightly on the head. The small monster squealed indignantly and
snapped again at her face.
I examined the creature’s properties.
Male Mongoliensis – Level 1 This is a pet-class mob.
This pet has not yet bonded with a crawler.
The stubborn and hot-headed Mongoliensis is not the type of pet to ever be “tamed.” The best one can hope for is mutual respect. And even then they still might try to eat you if the fancy strikes them. While especially powerful, fast, and vicious when they are fully grown at level 15, getting them to level 15 is about as likely as a cheerleader from West Virginia reaching her 18th birthday as a virgin.
They will immediately attack any mobs they see. They will fight to
the death.
Good luck.
“Goddamnit, Donut,” I said. “I knew we should’ve gone with the grub.”
“I’m not going to have a disgusting bug thing as a pet, Carl,” Donut said.
“You can’t even put a bow tie on a grub.” She reached forward and patted Mongo on the head. He snapped at her and attached himself to her arm. She yowled and shook her arm until he fell off.
“Well we better figure out how to get this thing to ‘bond’ with you before we go to Mordecai’s room, or Mongo here is going to teleport away the second we walk in there.”
“Don’t worry, Carl. Mongo and I are practically best friends already.
Aren’t we, Mongo?”
Mongo shrieked at the cat.
