the dungeon anarchist’s cookbook

Time to level Collapse: 10 Days.
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Red Line.
Welcome, Crawler, to the fourth floor. “The Iron Tangle”.
Your title has reverted to Royal Bodyguard.
Sponsorship bidding initiated on Crawler #4,122. Bidding ends in 45 hours.
The world rumbled. The ground shook. I stumbled backward the moment we appeared, but I was held upright by a metal wall. Lights flashed in a quick staccato, pulsing on either side of the long, thin room. I felt the thump, thump, thump under my feet. We were in a long, plastic and metal tube that vibrated and thundered. The lights in the room blinked out then turned back on.
Mongo screeched in anger and fear. Donut jumped to my shoulder, trembling. Katia clutched onto a metal pole rising from the floor to the ceiling.
New achievement! I’m on a train!
Choo Choo, Motherfucker.
Reward: You’ve received a Train Conductor’s Souvenir Hat! Wear it with pride!
“It’s a… subway car,” I said. We hurtled through a tunnel, racing toward some unknown destination.
A double aisle of seats, facing inward, filled the train car. The seats were made of beige, molded plastic with brown cushions that were ripped and tagged with marker and spray paint. The words were in nonsensical letters in the Cyrillic alphabet. The floor was dingy and pocked. Scorch marks dotted the plastic walls. Poles rose to the ceiling at regular intervals and also ran the length of the car. The whole place smelled like a pile of dead rats.
The train car was empty except for our party.
“It’s a Metro car from Moscow,” Katia said. “But the ones I rode were in much better condition than this. And cleaner.” Her face had returned to the mostly-human, blond-haired form she’d held earlier. Her nose had been knocked halfway around her face the last time I’d seen her in her doppelganger form, but she’d willed it back into place.
At the end of the subway car was a closed door with no window. Above the door hung a small, electric sign with red words scrolling across the top.
Red Line, Car 20. Next stop: Sirin Station (81) in 12 minutes and 32 seconds.
“Everybody get dressed,” I said. I sat down in the chair and quickly began the process of putting my gear back on. I briefly examined the stupid train hat we’d received, and it was junk. It wasn’t magical. It was a simple, blue and white hat one would see on a toddler. It had the words “I rode the Iron Tangle” embroidered on it.
“Carl, it says I have to pick a new class because of my Character Actor skill. I only have six minutes to choose, or I will get a ‘random’ one,” Donut said. “The list is full of new stuff. Not the same as before.”
Carl: Mordecai. Help Donut pick a class. She’s going to read off some choices. We’re in a moving car train. I think it’s a subway system-themed floor.
Mordecai: Welcome back. Donut, hit me with the suggested list.
Donut: I DON’T LIKE THESE CHOICES, MORDECAI.
As Donut rattled off a list of options in the chat, including things like Alley Cat Brawler and Nec-Cat-Mancer, I moved to the window and peered outside.
We moved swiftly. The exterior wall of the tunnel was right there, barely inches from the window. It appeared to be made of dirt or rock. Lights flashed by occasionally, as if electrical lights were built into the tunnel walls at random intervals.
“Why does she always type in all caps?” Katia whispered as I peered out the window. “Is it because she’s four-legged?”
“No. It’s because she’s Donut.”