Get Gud

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖗
Level 1(234 upgrades pending) | Disheveled | Kills 0 | Deaths 21
To foresee the future is to weep in advance.

Panting and braying, I raced across The Crysomme Moor.

I don’t know what’s worse: the nitric acid rain eating my skin, or the lactic acid eating my chest.

I raced and dodged my way through the swamps and mobs until I came back to the cavern I was at before. From the faint torchlight I saw the entrance of the cave, and the silhouette of a creature both human and bestial. It waved.

𝕹𝖔𝖜 𝕬𝖞𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕮𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖊:

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕷𝖆𝖉𝖞 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖆

“Hey! You came back!”

I acknowledged her response with a wheeze of gratitude and put my hands on my knees.

“Do….you….have…WHEEZE… a Stam-hina P”

“A RubriCola? Sorry, I’m all o- *gack*”

The two of us coughed and wheezed in harmony until Strep spit out a canteen.

“Oh hey! There’s one.”

I greedily dived for the canteen and swallowed a mouthful, letting the tangy herbal remedy course through my body.

“Amazing!”

“I’m….well of course. I wouldn’t be a chest if I didn’t have loot!”

I nodded slowly as I let the weariness wash over me. I looked past the smiling woman adjusting her Gold coin earrings to the dark cavern past her.

“You can rest for a bit, if you want. I already set up the rest of the dungeon.”

“Thanks, did you do anything with the extra powder kegs?”

Strep grimaced.

“Yeah, I just put them in the bathroom for storage.”

I almost choked on my RubriCola.”

“You what?!”

“Sorry, did I say bathroom, I meant…”

*𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔗𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔘𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔄𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔶*

“Did you set up any traps? At least.”

“Of course not! It's my bathroom!”

“We are setting up a rigged dungeon!”

“Well I don’t want to worry about pressure plates if I’m just trying to do my business.”

“You! Ugh, fine. Give me the Greathelm.”

𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗-𝕲𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖉
Steel | Armor
I kept the Privy of The Saura.
I did my duty.
I held it in.

“Go put it in the bathroom too!”

If they can put up with the smell they’ve earned it.

While she ran off, I sat down at the campspawn.

I forgot to activate it earlier. I’d hate to go through the Crysomme moor again.

𝕮𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖜𝖓 𝕬𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉

Outside was still an oppressive atmosphere of acid rain and cruel creatures,

I tried to think of where the next campspawn was on my journey, but for some reason I didn’t want to. 

“I’m back! You know, this room looks so plain and boring after we changed all the others. Should we fix that?”

I welcomed the interruption, poor Strep seemed caught off guard by my enthusiasm to change the subject.

“Why? The space is sufficient as it is.”

“I mean earlier you said it was suspicious.”

“But my dear Strep! That was when I first walked through your cavern. Then it was a random spawn camp. But now? Now I have braved the haunted Tomb of The Great Strepsia, Lady of A Thousand Steel Spears? It is a reprieve.”

“Oh! I get it now. You didn't change it, you disguised it.”

“What was once a wandering is now a dance!”

I exaggerated my pose with a flourish. Compared with her despair earlier today, she was in good spirits now. Dare I say, excited.

“You know Traveler, you're a kind of mimic, too!”

“Just because I can lure an unsuspecting loot hound, does not make me a-?”

“Sure it does. You pretend to be harmless - but you’re secretly dangerous. You're a mimic. Like me!”

As she continued her case I saw through the corner of my hair-covered eye the faint glint of men with armor heading towards the cave. I recognized the banner. I froze.

“Wow! You can change color too! You really are a mimic!

“Strep.” I croaked.

“But we need to train you. We need browns and reds for this cavern, that white color only works for porcelain.”

“STREP!” I hissed.

A hulking Zelzaamite lamellar beast with a Tulip bulb Helm completely covering his silhouette. Hideously effective armor for a hideously effective warrior.

Wait! Where was his Pulsing Zelzamite Greatsword?

Strep interrupted my thinking: “Hey Traveler, is that the same guy who was here earlier.”

“No, this is someone completely - SHIT that’s Wooden_Sword’s Great Ax!”

“Ok, so we just follow the plan with the dungeon right?”

“Wrong, this won’t work on him.”

“Why not?”

“Because he knows me, he’ll know I did this.”

“So what do we do?”

I looked at the dagger dangling down my leg. “I can’t let him see this.”

Strep glared at me with two eyes on each side of the lid.

“Then get over here! Hurry up and put your sword inside me before he sees us.”

“I can’t do that. If it pierces you, I could give you my curse.”

“Stop overcomplicating this. Just sheathe it in something and put it in me already!”

“I have a better idea.”

I reached behind me and found the opening for my secret pouch. Then pulling it open, I deftly placed the sword inside. Strep just stared at me.

“Oh, well I guess if that is what you prefer.”

“Stay here. I’m going to see if I can wear him down.”

“How?”

“Pacifist strategies.”

“I already know how to die, thanks.”

“That’s not what I -”

“TRAVELLER!” The Bulbous-headed warrior pointed to me with one hand, in the other he drank and crushed a canteen of RubriCola Boss.

“Get over here you scamming little shit! I’m going to collect that dagger and shove it so far up your ass…”

From the corner of my eye, I could see Strep perfectly frozen as a dull iron chest. I moved deeper into the cavern, with The Warrior in full pursuit.

The Hallway here was filled with mine. With any luck he’ll be too busy chasing me to bother checking.

I heard an explosion behind me. I turned to see Purple_Head recoiling from a swinging axe into the blast of several sequential powder kegs.

Should I run up? I could end it - no - I can't. I'm a pacifist.

Purple head stood up and laughed. He pulled a canteen from his pouch and downed it. The fluorescent green liquid poured down his hands and helmet as he crushed the canteen.

Travelers only have three at most, If I wear him out he’ll leave.

And then - as though to answer my question, he pulled another from his pouch and laughed.

“I’ve got more flasks than you’ve got mines, cheater.”

He raced through another set of mines, furiously chugging green and blue flasks. I ran with a vigor no energy flask could provide, racing to the chamber.

𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℭ𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℭ𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔡 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔯𝔰

In the darkness of the caverns there was silence. Only the soft flowing of underground rivers. And the slurping of Energy Vials.

I heard the crushed canteen of a Rors clack against the cavern wall.

“You know Traveller, originally I was going to just kill you, rob you and leave.”

I heard the water rushing toward me and I dodged. The sparks from the axe for a moment illuminated his form. A pace away from my right.

“Oh, thank you for your generosity, you hulking oaf!”

I was once again trapped in darkness, listening for the rattle of bones, and the grunting of the warrior as he pulled up his weighty ax. I could hear the crack of another canteen as he gulped it down.

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’m going to kill your cowardly ass again, and again, and again. Trap you in time like the rest of these mobs here. Beat you back to our home dimension, all because you sold me a fake Cinquedea.”

Underneath me I saw the floating info box for 𝕾𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗-𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖗, and picked it up.

'That philistine didn't even read it- wait. ''Their horses in Starvaton...' Is that a typo?  -WATCH OUT YOU FOOL!

The warrior lunged towards me. Too late to dodge, I parried. The sword with all my lovely flavor text shattered, and so did my arm. From the flash of light I looked around. And saw:

My mines. My booby trapped urns. I’m cornered.

“Look. If you want the dagger, it's right here. In this chest!”

I pointed with the arm not torn apart with metal shards. Only to feel his breath on my back. 

I froze.

“I can always rely on you to lie, Traveler. It’s not in that chest, is it?”

“No. But it is in this dungeon. If you can find it, just take it.”

The panting warrior cracked open another can.

“That’s too vague to be a lie. Very well, I'll kill you then I’ll burn this dungeon.”

I heard the rattling of bones and the faint splash of water.

“Not if I kill myself first!”

I stepped backwards and heard the pressure plate click. Purple Head jumped back to get away from the blast. Only to be flattened by an oncoming skellicycle.

I laughed as the blast consumed me.

“You’re Dead, Traveler! Dead as these skellicyclists!” Came the wounded warrior’s cry.

*ack ack ack*

𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖉

I felt light headed from the close encounter. Felt myself. My arm was back.

I could get out of here. They haven't seen me yet. No one will know I was here, and -what is that stench!

I looked past the stalagmite and there he was.

𝕻𝖚𝖗𝖕𝖑𝖊_𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉1337
Level 297 | Warrior | Kills 4838 | Deaths 431
If you can read this, run! It's funnier!

Strepp was scampering around the cavern wall as the Warrior clad in Scorched Zeldzaamite Lamellar and fecal matter broke everything in sight.

I guess he actually did search the “Throne room”…no wonder he’s mad.

Each swing of the axe made contact with the wall. With each strike, Strep was off rhythm by a fraction of a second. Only the chugs of his seemingly endless flasks bought her time.

She's busy, maybe she thinks I'm dead. She won't know I'm gone. So I can just.

I had to stop myself.

I realized if I left now this camp spawn would be theirs. She would have to flee or worse, farmed. Swatted down for eternity in her own house.

He’s weaker, but if the skellicycles and the explosions couldn’t kill him what chance would I have?

The latest swing from the axe, knocked Strep to the ground, she scampered back up, crying as her tail came off.

so much for my pacifist run....

I waited for him to turn slightly to the left, and with his back exposed I made my move. The Cinquedea Indelecta connected with his back and sunk in. Purple Head screamed.

“Traveler!” Strep exclaimed.

“Stay on the wall, he isn't down yet.”

Purple Head snarled. He turned to face me, but I did not budge from my spot. The axe dropped from his hand.

“What's happening?” He stared at his hands as the rings fell one by one.

“You know what's happening, you are under Naked Rage. The Cinquedea Indelecta just scored a critical.”

“My Loot! My Items!” Woodensword’s Ax fell to the ground, along with his own sword, his helm, his armor, and all and a mountain of potions. Naked Rage consumed him and he was left with nothing. Strep crawled off of the wall.

“Wow! He really does have a purple head.”

“You'll regret this, Traveler, I'll report you to The Foundation. You'll never travel again.”

“For what? Beating you and taking your stuff?”

“You know what you did, cheater!”

Strep rolled into him.

“Prove it, you Purple headed Warrior!”

The naked purple man in a loincloth staggered as his body met with Strepsida's roll. He stumbled backwards and tripped...right into the trip wire.

𝕻𝖚𝖗𝖕𝖑𝖊_𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉 1337 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖉𝖎𝖊𝖉.

The warrior fell to the ground and a puff of smoke gusted away from the body. Strep and I stood next to the body in shock.

“We…we did it.”

Strepsida locked me into an embrace.

“You came back for me, I don't know what I would have done.”

“Probably died, pacifist strategie, right?”

Strep punched my shoulder, before chuckling. “Why you! Yeah, probably”

“I looked at the dagger in my hand. In the back of my eyes, I could see:

Kills: 1

“Well, I broke my rule. So what am I now?”

Strep beamed and climbed off of me.

“A Mimic. A Monster. But not just any monster. You, Traveller, are the deadliest monsters in the dungeon. We can make a story for you now!”

“Heh. A story, you say?”

I reached through the Purple_Head’s pile of flasks and treated myself to a Rorsmontis, handing a second to Strep.

“So.. Are you going to eat him now.”

Strep looked over to Purple Head, as she opened the canteen. “Oh him? Oh no! I’ve seen where he’s been. I’ve got standards now that I’m…”

𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖆 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖆𝖚𝖗𝖆
Level 21 | Mimic | Kills: 78 | Deaths 1054
I'll ask him to write something cool here. Big boss now!

“How do you feel?”

“I don't feel any -belch- “

Strep coughed and gagged so much her skin began to turn white. Her face bulged as a glimmering golden axe clattered to the floor.

“I can buy food now!

“Between that and the guild’s loot you should have the money to upgrade your dungeon.”

“Oh yeah, my dungeon - I don't really know what to do about that.”

“Well…I might know someone who could help with that.”

“I think I do too! ...That is, if he wouldn't mind working with such a bad mimic.”

“You were never that bad of a mimic, Strep.”

“But..”

“You ensnared me, didn't you?”

“Oh -I- um - I guess I did, didn't I?”

“You're turning red, Strep.”

“You are too… you … lousy Mimic.”

The acid rain outside continued its pitter patter outside, we basked in the light from the campspawn. Neither of us knew what to say. For once it felt like the flame felt warm.

Strep was the first to break the silence.

“So...Traveler?”

“Yes, Strepsia.”

“I suppose we need to give you a new name besides The Traveler, since you're, you know, not travelling.”

“I suppose we could use my real name.”

“Really?!”

I could feel her breath on me as she moved closer. I could feel my heart beating louder. I swallowed.

“Back home, I am known as Kevin Cometthumper.”

She froze.

“Maybe we stick with The Traveler for now. I have a narrative to protect, you know?”