ã€ŠBen the Dungeonã€‹ Write Your Own LitRPG: Rules And Philosophy Our Philosophy: Nobody makes money from improv, but a lot of great stories start there. And we fucking love the old Choose You Own Adventure Books. Write Your Own LitRPG is meant as a space for experimentation of the LitRPG genre and strictly not for profit. Read the story and if you enjoy please feel free to join us on Reddit and join in. The most recent post with appear at the top of Reddit Contents Page(https://old.reddit.com/r/litrpg/comments/90gn3a/write_your_own_adventure_table_of_contents/ ) Disclaimer: - By writing in the thread you are giving your implicit permission in perpetuity for anything you add to the story to be kept together, and shown with, the rest of the story so that others can read it. This does not include Out of Character comments (defined below) and as stated we''re not doing this for profit so you won''t lose out. The intent of this rule is simply to keep any story created whole and together for the purpose of being read.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! - Beyond that participation leaves you with your normal rights to your own work and you can use work and concepts generated in WYOL without any worry or issue, though you would need the permission of the writer if you want to use nonbasic work or concepts of other participants. The Rules: - Every post is continuing the story from the post it''s responding to. - There is a word limit of 500 max per post. You can respond to your own post if you wish you continue your own story, but be aware that others can also respond and try to take the story along different lines. - Every Reddit upvote on a post brings it''s content one step closer to being the One True Timeline and part of the story (though this doesn''t mean that you shouldn''t feel free to attempt to finish you own story with a hilariously, horrible death if your story isn''t picked and comments downvoted into negative numbers will also be considered Dead Timelines so that there''s an active way to deal with Spam). - Every Monday the story shall pick up along the lines of the One True Timeline and all Game rules, Settings, Stats and Inventory shall carry on from there. - If the MC dies in the One True Timeline, the game shall begin fresh in a new world, with a new character and new rules (as long as there is still demand to play) - Any Out of Character comments should be in [squared brackets] otherwise it shall be considered part of the game. If there is a need for any other rules please make a OOC comments and we''ll resolve it as best we can. Chapter 1 My name is Ben. On my 21st Birthday something strange happened... I became a dungeon. In retrospect the copious drinking of that night probably had a large part to do with the decisions that led me to the dingy, back-alley tattoo parlour emblazoned with the rather dubious moniker ¡°Mystic Bindings¡±, but I was only going to be 21 once and it was unlikely my friends and family were ever going to provide me with as much free drink ever again, if only because I think I drank them into lifelong debt to pay for my inebriation this time round. Besides, I don¡¯t think I¡¯d ever seen the strange, almost medieval-looking shop before and I generally walked past that alley maybe once, twice a week. It was probably me being my normal unobservant self though, as it looked like it had been there for centuries. It had these massive dribbled candles in outside lanterns and the faded and crumbling black paint on the door and windows had this layered look that occurs only after a couple of generations of indecisive shop owners, with moments of optimistic pink or homicidal lime green peeking out from the cracks. I will admit to being slightly uneasy that I can¡¯t remember the tattooist¡¯s face at all, but he seemed like a fairly cool guy and he shared my love for those old dungeon builder strategy games like Dungeon Keeper and my own personal favourite Dungeons of Lilliputia. We ended up chatting for ages and I remember spending a good 15 minutes haranguing him into tattooing the logo for Dungeons of Lilliputia on the left side of my chest over my heart, those giant ornate metal and wood dungeon doors that used to excite my with possibilities when I was younger. After that my memories go black, like an ominous void. Hungover the next day, my head pounding like the fresh undead fighting their way out of the coffin, was when I found out about the other aspects to the tattoo. To start with I wasn¡¯t expecting it to feel so real though. I could actually feel the woodgrain and I think I actually jabbed myself on the spikes. When the door on my chest began to open inwards with the vast echoing boom however, my worries about a minor cut on my finger vanished instantly. I ran towards my bathroom, to check the only mirror in the apartment. I wasn¡¯t a doctor, but I was pretty sure gaping holes in your chest weren¡¯t a good thing. ¡°It rises brothers! After It!¡± were the words that I ignored, coming from the carpet. I was very hungover. Arriving at the mirror, surprisingly alive and without any kind of fluid gushing from my chest I look into the darkness in my chest and see a long cavernous hall with an impressively spikey throne at the far wall. Shit. Well, that¡¯s a thing... And that¡¯s when I felt itching, pulling pains shooting up my left leg. I looked down to see tiny, centimetre tall men with ropes and grappling hooks climbing upward.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. "Aaaagh!" I screamed, brushing off the tiny intruders climbing up my leg. They tried to hold on, their pickaxes dug into me like pin pricks. "Get off me!" I cried, my mind reeling at all these unnatural occurrences happening all around me. One of them, a man in a brown tunic, fell off my calf with a wail. His body hit the floor with a -- plink -- and shattered into specs of light. Easy clean up, I noted, blinking in confusion. "It''s resisting!" yelled one of the tiny men. "Hurry!" A dozen more of them had reached my upper thigh, and in panic I swept them off. Like swarms of insects, however, some had grappled onto my hand, and were dangling off their tiny ropes, as more of them were crushed into shattering light with more --plinks--. They were soon crawling all over me, and I rushed to the shower, thinking to wash them all down the drain, when suddenly something small and tiny slipped inside my very being.

-- An Adventurer (Maius - Level 6 Warrior) has entered! --

Iscreamed at the intrusion. It felt like a pebble in your shoe, small, annoying, intrusive, but a million time worse, since it felt as if it was happening directly inside my soul. One of the tiny people had made it past the opening and was making his way cautiously down my my chest corridor. "I think it''s a Level 1 dungeon! This should be easy!" he shouted to his comrades still trying to climb up my body. I raised my trembling hand to the dark hole in the middle of my chest, but I couldn''t bring myself to actually reach inside. That was when another one made it.

-- An Adventurer (Cairain - Level 4 Barbarian) has entered! --

Remembering the spiked walls on the far end of the corridor, a thought occurred to me and I lay down on my back on the bathroom floor. Immediately, the tiny intruders, taken by surprise, started sliding down toward the spikes. I could feel their quiet screams of panic and their desperate attempt to cling onto the smooth vertical wall. -- Plink! Plink! -- The intruders were gone, snuffed out of existence. I could feel them disappear, just as I felt a rush of something I had never felt before: energy, life, exhilaration. I gasped. It was a tiny drop, but it was... delicious. "Hhh HHHa HHHoooh my god," I said, my jittery hands clutching my head and searching my hair for intangible answers. As the euphoria that gripped me faded, I noticed that my hangover was completely gone. I jerked my head and jumped up and down, just to make sure there wasn''t any lingering malaise. Nope, I confirmed to myself, It is completely gone. 8 beers and who knows how many shots. No hangover. I immediately dropped to my knees and shimmied over to the couch. I brought my eye close so I could see underneath it. Nope, I thought, frustrated. Next, I went to my kitchen to check around the trash bin. Ants always tried to congregate around there so I figured it was a good place to look. "Damnit," I said, realizing there were ONLY ants by the trash bin. I rushed over to my front door, unsure of what I was expecting to find outside, but in desperate need for more of the tiny men to consume. The sun shown beautifully through a smattering of clouds in such a way that it created rays of light that shot down from the heavens. Birds chirped careless tunes because they didn''t have to worry about bills, jobs, or any of the problems humans did. Neighbors waved, happily exchanged tools that they would never return, and in general, just went about their perfect summer lives. The day was objectively beautiful. It wasn''t beautiful to me though. It might as well been shit... I slammed my front door, fell to my knees, and screamed, "I NEEED MOOOOOOORE!" Chapter 2 Unfortunately, it seemed that all the tiny men had quickly dispersed after the quick demise of their first two comrades and I was unable to locate any more of them around the house no matter how hard I looked. I went around the block on a hunt for these mini folks. I even went back to the tattoo parlour that was responsible for the whole thing, but the door was firmly locked and no amount of knocking, yelling, or begging yielded any results, save for weird glances from passers-by. At the end of the day I was starting to feel like I was going crazy, and that it had all been a hallucination. That evening as I sat wallowing in misery and ignoring text messages of those who had just remembered my birthday a day late, wondering what to do with myself now that I have this inexplicable and unquenchable thirst for tiny, strangely-clad men, my phone suddenly let out a strange --ding --. Annoyed that it had somehow defaulted back to this standard alert tone, I picked it up. It was a text message, but it didn''t come through the text app. It just floated on the screen like a strange glitch. You just had to do it, didn''t you? Now they''re coming to kill you tonight. I stared at it and texted back. WHAAAAT? They''re saying you''re a ''Taker'' Dungeon, Ben. Adventurers don''t tolerate those. I should have warned you earlier, but I didn''t think you''d get those initial kills that fast. I guess it''s too late now. Wait! What do I do now? Nothing. Help??? Nothing. At that point, of course, I started to panic. Who''s coming to kill me? What can I do? What did this person mean that I''m a ''Taker'' Dungeon? And how do I get more of those tasty little guys without dying? While I was distracted with these thoughts something had slipped into the dark cave in my chest.

-- An Adventurer (Terendrian - Level 198 High Mage) has entered! --

I didn''t know what it meant, only that I was in deep, deep trouble. Firmly remembering late-game, high-level High Mages from my gaming youth as one of the most mix/maxed, munchkiny classes in Lilliputia I decide that diplomacy might be the best option... ¡°Hello?! Mr High Mage Terendrian Sir? I feel like there''s been some kind of mistake!¡± All I can hear is a disapproving tut, echoing through the cavern of my dungeon. ¡°Hello?¡± I try again, not entirely surely why I was quite so afraid of someone I was sure was smaller than my pinky, but the deep lizard part of my brain was telling me to run away despite the fact the threat was literally inside me. I think headless chickens get a bad wrap sometimes.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Did you hear the thing I said? About the misunderstanding?¡± The entrance portal slammed open, more fucking splinters catching themselves into my actual skin

-- Terendrian - Level 198 High Mage has left the dungeon! --
	Minions Defeated	0
	Gold Gained	0
	Experience Gained	0

A blue floating orb of energy flew up towards my face! Inside the sphere I could see what appear to be a small Victorian gentleman in a top hat and tails, floating of his own accord and with a mild expression of irritation. ¡°I''ll say there''s been a bloody misunderstanding dear fellow! Where the traps? The treasure? The monsters? The labyrinth of glories and wonders?! What kind of dungeon are you?!¡± ¡°A new one, I guess?¡± I replied in the hope that magical obliteration would not soon follow. I wonder how magic actually works, maybe obliteration isn''t a thing ¡°Oh it''s definitely a thing dear chap!¡± As is mindreading I guess? ¡°Quite, but the thing is you aren''t really worth the effort that the Duke made you out to be. No one''s told you the rules and you don''t even know how to use your Dungeon Systems yet!¡± "My Dungeon Systems?" (Ok so screw me, I prefer the sound of my actual voice over some sort of weird telepathy monologue thing) "Yes dear chap, Dungeon Systems. I can''t even see a trace of them in your mind. You''ve clearly progressed passed Level 1 if you have Spike Traps and a Throne Room, even if they are exceptionally basic, but I just can''t figure out how...." My phone chose that moment to start buzzing and a tinny version of the song "I Will Survive" started erupting from it. I pulled it out to look at it, even though I could see Terendrian''s diminutive features frown at my breach of etiquette. Pictures of a scantily clad Britt Ekland started flashing in sequence across the screen. I wasn''t sure exactly what was happening, but I had a serious crush ever since I''d seen the original Wickerman film as a small child. Sure she was 75 now, but in her prime... I mean damn. My old adolescent fantasies flared up in my mind. "Do you mind?! It''s not just you in here, this is most unseemly! And why on the Gods'' Seven Earths would you do that with a spatula?! It''s a cooking utensil for goodness sake!" I hadn''t really been thinking about the fact that Terendrian was currently reading my mind. Those thoughts weren''t really the kind you shared with people. "I''d say. Go and cool down there''s a good old chap. I''m going to get a fresh of breath air. I mean... No... Just... Why a Cucumber?... Just give me 5 minutes" He flew off in the direction of bath room. A new text message appear on my screen with a--ding --. You heard the man, we have 5 minutes. I heard the sound of retching from the bathroom. All powerful mage he may be, but Terendrian had a weak stomach for my level of sexual deviancy. Wait, you can see me? You don''t remember a thing do you? I''m almost hurt. Look, there''s no time. The High Mage can''t know that you''re only a Portal Guardian Boss if you''re going to properly protect me. He has to think you''re a Dungeon rather than a Minion if this is going to work. Dear god this is a lot to text /poopface emoji/ What the hells is going on? Get you''re dancing shoes on and we can meet in the club tonight to talk about it. In the mean time dear Minion, that Ekland trick is only going to work once so we''re going to have to level up your mental defences using that experience we gained from the noobs. This may hurt a bit. And at that moment a million knife jabs through my skull in a aura of light and pain. Before it got any more intense I saw one more message pop up on the screen. I love you Ben, I''m very glad you''ve survived so far. THEN the pain got more intense and I blacked out. Chapter 3 Concentric white circles. No outline. Maybe some really mildly variations of off-white going into pinky-purpleish, but really small degradations between them, like on the level that middle-aged people would bicker over as they decide to paint their house, probably with names like Soulful Magenta, Anime Sunrise or Angel''s Arsecrack. It''s really a terrible looking menu system and it''s not helped by the type face that appears to be a mix between BeBoop Robot and Comic Sans. That''s what just sprung from the my pain-induced blackout and dear god it''s not helping.

Your master Void Dungeon Persephone has granted you Evolution Points. To begin the Evolution process please choose a Mythic Phenotype to follow.
Due to requirements for Misdirection, Stealth, Magic Resistance, Mental Resistance and General Style your paths have been restricted to the following:
	-- Quicksilver Golem --
	-- Beholder --
	-- Mind Flayer --
	-- Bound Djinn --
	-- Incubus --
	-- Wraith --
	-- Sphinx --
<>

The circular walls that surrounded me pulsated with increasing frequency. It was irritating and left me with a weird sense of deja vu, but it did at least deliver an intense sense of urgency. I tried to choose carefully, but really one option had jumped out at me from the start:

Phenotype	-- Quicksilver Golem --
Creature Type	Construct
Alignment	Lawful Neutral
Lair Theme	Industrial Energy

Attributes
Tireless	Any reduction in Stamina is halved
Materialistic(Quicksilver)	The nature of a Golem is connected to the material that it is made from. Quicksilver is magical liquid metal known for it''s reflective properties and rumoured to have affinities towards temporal and interdimensional travel
Ponderous	It would be a disservice to say that Golems are unintelligent, it''s just that when they think about something, they commit. As a Golem you will find it easier to focus at the expense of finding it harder to adapt to situations quickly.
Viva la Resistance	As a Golem you have varying resistances to Magic, Bludgeoning, Piercing, Slashing, Poison and Humour-based attacks and effects
If I Only Had A Heart	As a Golem you are resistant to emotional such as Fear, Anger, Love, Embarrassment, Sadness, Joy and whatever else you can think of, but probably won''t.

As I confirm my selection the white, pink and I think maybe puce circles fall down around me and I''m staring at a spike covered throne. It takes me a moment, but I realise where I am. How the fuck can I be inside my own chest? As quickly as I think it cracks appear in the throne, on the walls and floor, up my legs, body, arms and face. Then it all just... flaked off. And in it''s place; manic, neon lights, crackling energy and the gleam of metal. Whoa. I looked down at my new body, both fascinated and horrified at the same time, but mostly fascinated, since the quicksilver that now made up my body, half-liquid, half-mirror, half shiny ooze, was suddenly incredibly mesmerizing. When I moved, it flowed, and I spent a whole minute just admiring it. Or it would have been a whole minute, if the blinding pain had not stabbed my mind again.

<< Ugh. I was hoping you wouldn''t go for that one. >>

I blinked, and slowly looked around for the source of the voice, but saw nothing but the empty room within my own chest. What? How does that even make sense? I had a feeling I should know what the voice was talking about, but suddenly couldn''t quite remember. My brain seemed to be flowing, and my thoughts a muddy mess.

<< Ben! Concentrate! Ugh. Of all the choices you had to go with the one with low base Intellect! >>

What?

<< Okay. Look at your stats. Yes. Stats menu! Now put two points into Intellect so you can start understanding my orders. Stats, Ben. No. Stop looking at your own bloody body! I know it''s pretty and shiny! >>

Ouch! Pain flashed again in my mind, and I really wished the voice would stop bothering me. But since it mentioned stats, I laboriously looked for them, before realizing they had been floating in the air in my field of vision all along.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Stats
Health	1	Dexterity	1
Strength	1	Stamina	1
Intellect	1	(You will unlock more types of stats as you evolve)
Physical Resistance	5	EmotionalResistance	5
Magical Resistance	5	Environmental Influence	1
-- You have5points to spend! --
(You will unlock more types of stats as you evolve)

Maybe because of my Ponderous attribute, I spent a very long time focusing on each of the numbers, taking them all in.

< >

Despite the pain jabbing my mind like a sharp nail piercing through white matter, I concentrated on the last line. Environmental influence? I liked how it sounded, and in my foggy consciousness I assigned all six shiny points to it.

The voice screeched at me, and the pain intensified, and if I was still human I would probably have been screaming. But as soon as the points landed, I was suddenly aware of the space I was in. Inside my chest, allegedly, but my half-liquid brain couldn''t quite understand what it meant. All I knew was that it was crude and full of spikes, and I didn''t like it one bit. Reaching out, I touched the walls, the spikes, the jagged cracks, and they smoothed like magic, and after a few seconds I found myself in a hall of shiny mirrors, made of the same substance as myself.

-- New attribute gained: Artistic --

Before I could read what the description said, pain coursed through me like an electric shock, and my Golem body nearly collapsed onto the shiny ground.

The voice did not seem pleased at all, and I had a terrible feeling that what was going to follow was going to be highly unpleasant. But then another voice boomed out, cheery, accented, and greatly surprised, and which I suddenly remembered belonged to some tiny person called Terendrian. "Oh, wow, what have we got here? I can''t believe you''ve unlocked the Interior feature already."

<< Nooooo! Too late! >>

The voice in my mind cried out in panic. I reacted to fear in the voice, obviously before I had a chance to think about it and I rippled. The world around me rippled too. More words occurred, the only solid thing in a wooshey-whirly world. The pretty words were there again...

-- You have gained a new ability - Reset --

Due to the temporal affinities of your Quicksilver composition and your high level of Environmental influence at this early stage you have unlocked the ultra-rare Reset ability. Reset is a once per day triggered ability which allows the user to travel back up to 1 minute in time when damaged. First use triggers off of 0 damage, Second use triggers off of 1 point and the threshold damage limit doubles for each subsequent trigger after that.

The words were boring. I looked at my pretty numbers and something was incorrect.

Magical Resistance	5	Environmental Influence	1
-- You have6points to spend! --
(You will unlock more types of stats as you evolve)

Maybe because of my Ponderous attribute, I spent a very long time focusing on each of the numbers, taking them all in.

<< Put two points into Intellect! NOW! >>

Despite the pain jabbing my mind like a sharp nail piercing through white matter, I concentrated on the last line. Environmental influence? I started adding the shiny points back in.+1. +2. +3. The points went in but my mind cursor pushed more and more strongly up as I adapted to the environment instinctively and a point fell next to a more boring grey word... Intellect +1

<< Yes! Yes! That''s it, Ben. Now, one more point in Intellect. >>

The voice sounded both relieved and exasperated, and the pain slowly left my brain or whatever Golem part I had that was responsible for mental faculty. This of course made me very happy and I spent a few more seconds focusing on my state of happiness from being without discomfort.

<< Hello? One more point in Intellect! >>

The voice poked me again with a brief jab of pain. With my total Intellect now at 2, I was starting to understand simple logic, like how displeasing the voice resulted in horrible feelings, and how horrible feelings made me feel really bad. Slowly, I dropped another+1next to Intellect. Something happened in my mind. I suddenly understood that something very strange had happened to me, and that it was very worrying and that I had better listen to the voice in my head if I wanted to stay alive.

<< Well done, Ben. Now we can talk. >>

The voice almost purred.

<< Now, we don''t have a lot of time before that high mage finishes hurling. You need to convince him that you''re nothing but a boring, normal low-level dungeon. >>

Chapter 4 "Oh, wow, what have we got here? I can''t believe you''ve unlocked the Interior feature already." "...Yes. That was definitely a thing I did"

<< Subtle, why don''t you ask him for design tips >>

"Do you have any design tip Great Ma-" "High Mage!" Terendrian interrupted.

<< Smoooooooooooth! >>

"Shuuut uuup!" I whisper-shouted just a tad too loudly. "Benjamin, no need to snap at me like that! I do you the honours of calling you by your correct title, please bestow me with the same graces! ...Though I do suppose I did snap... Please accept my apologies and let us start afresh!" He held out his hand. It stayed there waiting awkwardly for a moment and not just because I was worries about crushing it due to the giant disparity between our hand sizes. "Wait... Do you think "Benjamin" is my title?"

And then there was the disconcerting noise of stilletto heels on a hardwood floor some how walking away from my mind. How does that even work? I was beginning to miss my hangover and the time this morning where my mind was startlingly less vacated than it had been over the last couple of hours. I was taking too long and the Gre- High Mage was beginning to look mildly irritated or whatever the mild British Aristocratic version of affronted would be called. I stuck my Index finger into his tiny hand and hoped it wouldn''t come across as condescending to the small nuclear reactor. "Deal!" "What do I do now?" I asked. I actually meant it for the voice in my head. Now that the High Mage was safely appeased, I thought I should try to appease that voice too before she decided to inflict more pain on me. No answer came; presumably my stiletto-d overlord was still getting her popcorn. Luckily, the tiny gentleman was being very helpful. "I''m going to teach you how to be a dungeon," the High Mage announced. "I see that you''ve unlocked the Interior feature already, so this should be fairly easy."This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "Uh... yeah, I, uh, got that bit," I said. Of course, I had no idea what he was talking about, but my best chance right now was to play along. Terendrian floated up and peered into the hole in my chest. "Oh, wow, so you''ve got the Basic Monster feature unlocked as well? This will be much quicker than I thought." "Uh... yeah," I said. What monster? The High Mage then floated directly inside the opening and landed himself on the ground, making me jump as I could feel his tiny boots inside me. I was about to protest, when I suddenly realized I could see him, almost life-size, in front of me, as if I was inside my own chest. "Well, well, well, isn''t this interesting," said Terendrian. It took a few moments to adjust my head to the fact that the High Mage inside my chest and yet looking straight into my eyes, or at least the eye of my Quicksilver Golem-self that was also within my own chest. How the hell does that work again? I didn''t have a lot of time to wonder, since as soon as I shifted my consciousness into my other self I was somewhat affected by my meager 3 points in Intellect, which didn''t allow me to be that bothered. "Pretty low health," commented the High Mage. He lifted his walking stick again and poked me. The tip went through the reflective surface of my body. "Ow!" Terendrian jumped back. "Did that hurt?" For some reason this didn''t seem to please him. "No sir, no." I guessed at what he wanted to hear. "I was just, uh... surprised." "Oh, good," said the mage. "For a moment I thought you were..." His voice turned dark and deadly as if someone was offering him a magic ring he did not want, and I, I mean me, not the GolemMe, suddenly felt a wild sense of dread. "Never mind, then. Let us continue." "Continue what?" "With the tour, dear chap! This can''t been the only room in your whole blasted Dungeon Benjamin!" "Um..." I explained in an articulate fashion

< Tell him to look left >

I feel a moment of relief that Persephone has returned, only for the moment to be spoiled, by the polystyrene crunches of popcorn chewing. I look left, or at least my Golem-me does and Terendrian follows my eye-line a moment later and so we both spot the large metallic sliding doors at the same time. Given that the door is surrounded a bright diagonal yellow and black hazard pattern around the edge of it, I have no idea how we missed it before.

<< Because I''ve just made it up silly! Now stop thinking so loudly and distracting me, I need to concentrate >>

I can''t just stop thinking, you get that right?

<< Well you''ve been doing a great job up until now, so why don''t you go back to playing with your "chum" my dearest? >>

And with that I could feel myself being dismissed. Ah bugger, I better get on with it then... I indicated towards the door with an open palm in a jerking robotic motion "Beep Boop... Please. Follow. Me. High. Mage. Terendrian. Beep Boop... This. Servant. Has. Been. Tasked. To. Guide. You. Beep Boop" It was definitely the worst impression of a robot I''ve ever done, but what the hells was a Golem supposed to sound like? The High Mage''s eyes twinkles for a moment with amusement. "How very Retro, Benjamin. Very Well. Lay on dear Replicant, Lay on!" And followed me in my terrible walking re-enactment of the worst white person dance in history. I had no idea how my back would cope with this... Chapter 5 We had walked for roughly 37 minutes and 13 seconds and had crushed, stepped on or incinerated 5 DireRats when the notifications came.

-- An adventurer (Eilnys of Many Talents - Level ??? Class ???) has entered! --

-- An adventurer (Zinnaella Harpsorcerer - Level ??? Class ???) has entered! --

-- An adventurer (Ghost Mamba Steve - Level ??? Class ???) has entered! --

This was initially a welcome reprieve from the High Mage''s absent-minded and incredibly tuneless humming that bludgeoned into my skull as he performed what he seemed to find as the relatively mundane task of elephant-sized rodent extermination (or maybe normal-sized? My sense of scale had become a bit confused over the course of events). At the same time I had kind of thought that there was going to be bit of a moratorium on adventurers while Terendrian classified me so I decided to raise this with him. "WooOOooop. WoooOOOoop. Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert. Please be on the lookout for Eilnys of Many Talents, Zinnaella Harpsorcerer and Ghost Mamba Steve. Level Unknown. Class Unknown. WooOOooop. WoooOOOoop. Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert." "Confounding Zounderkites, that blasted Duke has sent in Assassins again. Why he feels the infernal need to double-check my work, I do not know!" Terendrian stomped back down the passage towards the entrance chamber "Well I''m not bloody having it! I''m going to give them a piece of my bloody mind this time" I sighed with relief to have a few moments to myself before awkwardly following along behind him. What kind of name is Harpsorcerer? That''s just random fantasy words shoved together...

For all that she was an assassin, Eilnys never really considered herself to be a particularly bad person. She just provided a necessary service. And sure she was often vague about the nature of that service when she discussed it with her mum at Sunday lunch, but she had her code and had really just chosen a profession where she could sleep in and didn''t have to speak to people much. It was even on her business cards: "No Children, No Cripples, No one under Level 30, No Mornings and No fucking Talking, now Fuck off." Admittedly it wouldn''t have been the best sales technique in a lot of businesses, but people like the Duke didn''t really hire her for her kindly demeanour, so generally it worked out.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. This was not one of those occasions and the reason for that was named "Zinnaella fucking Harpsorcerer". How in the Seven Hells you could be an assassin who talked all the fucking time, Eilnys didn''t know, but she dearly wished the Guard had caught and hung Zinnaella a long time ago and was, by this point, very much considering knocking her out and hand-delivering her to them herself once the job was done. As it was, one of her "Many Talents" was scouting ahead and so she did that for the moment instead. She could almost feel sorry for Steve who was at least a mute, but he was also a complete fucking psychopath so it was possible just some God''s form of Karma. And besides maybe if she left them alone together long enough the Death of Killers would do what Eilnys herself wouldn''t, without getting paid at least. Still she was very much enjoying the NeoIndustrial decor, which was at least a bit of change to the normal medieval doom and gloom Dungeons she normally had to check out. Maybe she would bring home a nice souvenir for her mum this time. Something nice and bright to put on the mantle instead of another fucking skull. Hopefully at the very least she would get to wind up that poncy wizzard again.

Ghost Mamba Steve was in fact currently considering slitting Zinnaella''s throat ear to ear and then chasing down Eilnys with pliers and a pair of chopsticks and forcing her to eat her own fingernails for abandoning him. There was something about Zinnaella''s voice that just never ever faded into the background and in the name of dear Bilous, did the woman continue to talk regardless of the appropriateness of the situation. Like the job they did on the Earl of Marthwaite''s widow during the Earl''s funeral. It was supposed to be fun, stealthy and easy, and while sure it ended in a complete bloodbath, Steve couldn''t help but feel that the fact he''d had to kill all six of the pallbearers simply because they had tried to escort them out when someone kept talking over the priest during the ceremonies lacked a certain professionalism. And even now, in Steve''s happy place, a Dungeon that hopefully would provide endless numbers of creatures kill, she was still talking. And yet somehow still hadn''t gotten to the point. Ever. In the entire time that he''s known her. No, Steve was definitely going to kill her. He just needed to figure out a way to do it without her making any noise and spoiling it.

¡°And at the age of 6 they called me a prodigy, never had they seen an individual with such an amazing vocabulary and such eloquence of thought at such an early age, now obviously by this point Monsieur Mamba you know me well enough to know that I''m not saying that just to flatter myself, rarely you will find an individual more humble than myself, but my point is that that configuration of pipe reminds me of the maintenance section of the east wing of the museum of Extraordinary Art and Recreation which was in fact I think the place where they remarked...¡± Zinnaella continued to scream endlessly inside her head, but as ever what escaped her lips was absolute drivel. At least the job gave her an outlet from the rage that being trapped eternally inside her own head left her with. It was part of the reason she got on so well with Steve, the family curse made her little more than a mute with extra noise. It''s not even like her name was Harpsorcerer, that was a brand left by the moronic originator of the curse so that her family would always know who had cursed their line and the heinous actions that had been committed to deserve The Curse of Endless Chatter. The irony of all this was that the curse stopped the bearer from mentioning anything about it, so of course the reasons for any of this were now long forgotten. Still she kept up hope, like she always did, that this would be the Dungeon where she could find some kind of cure and finally let Steve know how she felt. Chapter 6 As I followed the blue ball of light that was the High Mage, I thought about how remarkable the human mind was when it came to reading body language. I could barely see him by this point, but I could tell that he was annoyed. It didn''t really seem worth getting annoyed over. If his boss wanted to check up on him then just let it happen. Just follow orders. Following orders just made life easier. Like for example when my boss told me to guide Terendrian for half an hour while pretending to be a robot, I did and sure it was tiring, but it seems to be going ok.

Understood Mistress Persephone.

Persephone stomped off in her clip-clop heel, slamming what I can only kind of assume was the door to my brain behind her. I finally let myself smile slightly. Sometimes just that one moment of peace is worth it. I decided now was the time to find out more about my new environment. Slowly, which was as fast as my current golem mind could function, I turned and proceeded down a corridor I had not been in. How big is this place? I''m supposed to be ''protecting'' the dungeon core? Where is it? The corridors were winding like an unending maze, and I kept going. At one point I came across a DireRat. Without the mage to blast it to smithereens in one blow, it made me a little nervous, but it largely ignored me, although it did stop for a moment to look in puzzlement at its own reflection off my body. A moment later, it''s ears twitched... "... and it is quite remarkable that such creature obviously unimaginatively based off a common rodent would recognize its own reflection, so based on this observation I, Zinnaella Harpsorcerer, would classify this creature as a Class D at the very least, the last example of which I saw about four months ago Bistulia in the form of a sentient pile of mud..." It was one of the new adventurers; a tall, thin and very pale woman with short frizzly red hair in a long robe. Beside her was her male companion, who I guessed to be the one the System had called "Ghost Mamba Steve", whose tormented expression immediately twisted into a sadistic smile as he saw what was in front of him, which was either the DireRat or me. We stood for an infinity of moments. Memories of half-forgotten westerns sang harmonica in the back of my head as I became slightly cross-eyed keeping my eyes open on the Rat, the Blether and the Smile in a Wine-Coloured Cloak. Then suddenly a hint of movement, the DireRat being clearly less of a fan than I was of Mexican Stand-offs. It decided and then leapt at the Ghost Mamba, all claws and teeth. -- shink shuuumph -- The Direrat split in front of me and not just in two. It actually peeled out from the bones and blood vessels. I was covered in blood. Everything was covered in blood. The liquid contents of the DireRat covered everything. Steve''s choice of apparel suddenly made of lot more sense. And the Dungeon caught up and the DireRat''s viscera evaporated into a twinkling ruby mist leaving only a loot bag where it once stood. The smile remained while blade was lovingly re-sheathed and the deep shadows of the hood continued to reveal nothing of the eyes. And the chattering continued unscathed. "...I note the bile and innards of the specimen was clearly reabsorbed, which denotes both that it was indeed a Dungeon creature and possible more important that the Dungeon''s functionality is indeed, multifunctionality and so we are not just in a trap Dungeon and can indeed..." I froze as the lizard fear from my brain reviewed it''s standard "flight or flight" plan in wake of what just happened and found resistance in my newer, but equally instinctive, sluggish and stubborn golem tendencies. Sure the smile was creepy as fuck, peeking out from under the heavy, purple hood, but I also didn''t give a shit. It was just a smile, people did those. What is wrong with me? I know me, I should be terrified right now

-- Emotional Resistance increased to 6 --

Oh. Oh yeah. Fear''s an emotion. That makes sense.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. I walked forward. The air became still and the Assassins tensed. It became so quiet that the only sounds were my footsteps, the ever present electrical hum and Zinnaella who appeared to be muttering to herself. "Extraordinary specimen, wouldn''t you say Steven? Look at the poise and the figure, clearly a creature of the Golem Phenotype, which is strange as the minimum requirement for that would be a Class A and this is supposed to be an incredibly new Dungeon, but I guess the TitanCore could have gone for a nonStandard configuration and invested more in a single creature, which I guess would explain the fairly generic traps and otherwise incredibly basic fair of monsters that we''ve found otherwise. It reminds of the Gardens of Bethel, you remember Bethel don''t you Steven? With the Squirrels? Very fond of Hydrangeas. Gave us thimblefuls of Home-made Lemonade? Delightful, but slightly eccentric old Dungeon. Pity about her rogue Hexen Hive. Is was rather a shame when you garroted her, but even if they were only for the purposes of of pollination, we still couldn''t allow a mana sink link that to roam free. What would happen if it fell into the hands of another city. You do remember don''t you my dear? Steven? Steve? Do you remember?" The smile became fixed and then final moved in a sharp now when it became clear that the record of conversation would not move on without his acknowledgement. I continued walking forward slowly tuning her out to focus on the task at hand. And then I walked past. If I was going to get any time to explore by myself then I couldn''t afford to stop for just any distraction. -- Shiiiiiiiiink -- I dove forward just in time to feel the airswooshbehind my back. I never had reflexes like these before! My hand slipped, metal on metal, and my face smacked into the ground, luckily still metal on metal, but with a sharper sting. I didn''t have ''reflexes like these'' now either. -- ShiingScreeeeeeEE -- I could hear Steve running towards and the only thing I could imagine would be making the weird scrapping noise was hooded, smiling psychopath scraping a blade along the ground as he ran towards me. What an absolute knobber! At least I have resistances to blunt attacks... I rolled to the side on the basis that at least I wouldn''t be stationary and face down, so I might be harder to hit.

--New affliction gained: Dizziness --

I really have no idea what I''m doing. Except maybe wanting to vomit. I pushed myself off of the floor, in a way that can only be described as ¡°badly¡±. It felt like the floor was rolling under my feet, but I scrabbled to push myself up. I definitely didn''t have time to fall over, but I was sure I could work out an opportunity to let out the vomit I was desperately holding back. Where was he? --ShiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeClunnk-- ¡°Ahyahfuckermyaarm!¡±

-- Ghost Mamba Steve has attacked Quicksilver Ben for 132 Blunt Slashing Damage (7 Damage resisted). Roll to prevent arm severing... [Autofail] --

It tumbles to the ground with a ¨Cclang--. It''s oddly sanatised I realise, the rest of me suffering from a differing kind of detachment as I note the lack of blood. --Shlunk--I feel the sword being pulled out.--Shiiiiiiii-- Well, I wasn''t expecting to die today, but I guess...

-- 1 damage taken. RESET ability triggered. New damage limit set to 2 --

And before I can think about what''s going on I''m spinning again and struggling not to vomit. I''m Afflicted with [Dizziness] again. I push myself up again. I stand wondering like a moronagain. He cuts off my armA-fucking-GAIN!

-- 2 damage taken. RESET ability triggered. New damage limit set to 4 --

And I''m spinning and I wonder what happens if I keep spinning. And I find out, the bastard slices along the ground and I''m actually pushing myself into the blade for even more damage. And I''m being cut in half...

-- 4 damage taken. RESET ability triggered. New damage limit set to 8 --

This time I turn as I stand, I see the blade coming towards me. Instinctively I try to ward off the blow with my hand. I''m [Dizzy]. I fall forward into the blow. I see surprise in his eyes, does he not expect me fight back? The blade saws through my upper arm...

-- 8 damage taken. RESET ability triggered. New damage limit set to 16 --

I''m spinning again, but this can''t continue. I have no idea what will happen if I die before the[Reset]triggers and it''s becoming an exponentially larger damage trigger every time.I guess "easy mode" isn''t going to last forever.... I launch myself at him again, but I''m still a second too slow. I''m thinking too much, I need to be faster! His surprise is real though and I know where he is!

--16 damage taken. RESET ability triggered. New damage limit set to32 --

I''m spinning, but not for long. I know the timing, I know where I am,I know what I''m doing!

-- Ben resists Affliction: Dizziness... [Success] --

I slap my hands into the ground, throwing myself up before I finish rolling. I''m still rotating, but more vertically. I feel more in control of my movements. I managed to quickly brace one knee for a second to keep the momentum upward, I turn to lunge, but I''m still turning, still spinning. Fuck it, maybe I''ll never be a ballerina, but maybe it doesn''t matter I sideways spin/tackle-jumped into the air a mess of knees and elbows orbiting myself. It wasn''t going to be pretty, but it didn''t need to be as my metallic body bludgeoned into the side of him. This time we both hit the floor and a clatter rang along the floor away down the hall as his battered and notched blade tumbled across the floor. Panic flashed across the Ghost Mamba''s face and he scrabbled across floor after it. A reflection of panic flashed across my face too and I scrabble to do the same. We raced towards it in a mad frantic crawl. Pulling, clawing and dragging at each other as we both tried to knock the other down, just desperately trying to get there first. His hands curled tight round the hilt as he got there first and I felt his rictus grin starting to fill his hood even from my up close view of the back of his head. It doesn''t last long as I grab the back of his skull and smashed his head repeatedly into the ground. His body slumped to the ground and finally, finally I''m fucking safe from Shia LaBo- Steve, I''m safe from Steve... I pried his fingers from the hilt, just in the off-chance that he might return for a Shia Surprise, rather than for any great desire from his incredibly-used looking sword. How in the Gods name did this thing cut me to ribbons? And how the fuck is this guy''s grip so strong when he''s unconscious? What kind of training regimen do you have to... Luckily, before I finished that particular thought, the sword came free from his grasp and I received a notification telling me I had obtained a new weapon. Chapter 7

-- New weapon available: The Haunted Blade --

Properties: Unknown

Do you wish to equip? Y/N

At least the thing has a cool name, but what the hell does it do? From experience I knew that at least it could cut. I felt Steve stirring as he began to regain consciousness and I hurriedly equipped and raised the sword. Did I feel guilty as I realised what I was about to do? No, Emotional Resistance took good care of that at least, even if I could still feel the chemical flush of panic coursing through me. This bastard had actually enjoyed hurting me earlier. I had seen the unbridled joy in his eyes, in his sadistic smile, as his sword cut into my body again, and again. Whether or not the weird time-resetting effect counted as reality, it was fucking five times in a row. The psycho killer deserved this. Considering that I''d never killed anyone before, I found myself stupidly wondering if I should go for the heart or the throat. Heart, right? But before the Haunted Blade could make a true ghost of it''s former master and before I could claim my first-ever intentional kill, I felt my right side burning as if I had fallen over a stove. "Bad Robot! Bad!"

	-- Magic Missile Resisted --
	-- Magic Missile Resisted --
	-- Magic Missile deals 3 damage --
	-- Magic Missile Resisted --

I was more shocked that anything else. No magically, just... hmmm, I can''t even say emotionally. Maybe shocked wasn''t the right word. Suffice to say I was confused about what was happening and why and it stopped me in my tracks. "And this is why my dear lady Zinnaella, I must repeatedly insist that you and your brethren desist and evacuate this dungeon. This is absolutely amateurish behaviour and all sides and it has no bearing on testing." "I must most strongly disagree High Mage, surely you must see that this is flagrant and rabid behaviours by the creature of this dungeon and duty must send you forth on the path of it''s destruction most expediently while..." The situation came into focus. Clearly Terendrian had arrived during the course of the battle and then just... stayed back and watched. If that was the case though, I didn''t think it was entirely fair that he interrupt just before I could once more taste the delicious energies of a dying sociopath. I mean either help at the start or just let nature take it''s course and let me kill him. I deserved to get to kill him surely? "I hesitate to interrupt you milady, but as you have now said your fifth variation of the same idea, I feel that I should interject" Zinnaella actually looked almost grateful. I mean, she continued talking regardless, but it did seem to reduce in volume. "All three of you entered with provocation and in a tremedous state of violence. Despite his Excellencies'' states position on Dungeon''s in general and the circumstances surrounding the death of his moron nephew Maius in particular, the intent to kill does not define a Dungeon as Rogue or a Taker, especially not when said Dungeon is engaged in the act of self-defence. Dungeons are not playgrounds madam and they should be respected as the resources they are." I really didn''t know what to say to this, but then, I still had no idea what the fuck was going on. I still had no idea what the fuck was going on.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

<< And you don''t need to. Yet at least. >>

Oh joy, that gang''s all here

<< Why couldn''t your ridiculous Golem lobotomy you inflicted on yourself at least gotten rid of the sarkiness? >>

I inflicted? I INFLICTED?!

<< Oh do go do one. I gave you as much of a choice as I could given the circumstances. It''s not my fault you decided to Flanderise yourself by choosing literally the dumbest choice possible! >>

WHY EVEN ADD THE CHOICE TO THE LIST IF YOU THOUGHT IT WAS A STUPID CHOICE?!I''m not sure what it was about Persephone that I fell into bickering with her like we''d known each other for years.Besides we fixed it didn''t we? And the time travel shit is pretty cool!

<< Argh! Look, just shut up you massive Timelord wannabe. I told you earlier, that I''ll explain things at the Club, but for just now, the plan seems to be working. Thank fuck these Assassins are annoying the High Mage to the point he isn''t looking at things too closely. Just keep Cybermaning it up >>

It will be as you command, Mistress Persephone. My sudden shift into obedience seemed to surprise my overlor- lady and the comment was met with silence. I suspected those moments were spending trying to figure out if I was being sarcastic, which I wasn''t entirely. I took advantage of her moment of stunned stupor and loosely defined orders to quickly turn my attention back to the scene, where the High Mage and Zinnaella were still engaged in a Victorian speech contest. "BEEEP! BOOP! BOOOWWOOP!" I let my most convincing robotic sounds escape my throat as I pretended to erratically swing my sword about. "Oh, dear," the High Mage exclaimed. "My missiles were meant to do inflict minor damage, not malfunction it!" Zinnaella started letting loose a flow of words about the properties of a robotic brain, as I continued to flail about like a complete idiot. For some reason the High Mage didn''t want me to kill the psycho bastard, but it would not be my fault at all, if it was anaccident. I tripped, I fell, and but I was aiming.Heart, right? Or throat? Maybe it didn''t matter. No one, nothing was going to keep me away from my first real taste of blood. As I tumbled toward the ground, I made sure that the Haunted Blade was held at the correct angle to accidentally end Ghost Mamba Steve and finally give me my long-deserved delicious gush of life.

-- Quicksilver Ben has attacked Ghost Mamba Steve for 99 Stabbing Damage (16 Damage resisted). Ghost Mamba Steve dies! --

There was aplinkas the Ghost Mamba dissolved into a cloud of rainbow pixels that floated joyously towards me like psychedelic butterflies and I could feel rush of energy about to flow into me. I was almost drooling, I was electric with anticipation and that''s when another notification of course popped up to ruin my day. The cloud rewound like a bad special effect into the ground where his corpse had been only moments before, the bright coloured pixels fading into sepia tones.

-- Curse of the Haunted Blade activated. Binding Spirit to location of demise --

Oh motherfucker no...Binding?!

<< Oh yaaay! A new monster type! You really know how to treat a girl! >>

And slowly coalescing before me was the smuggest, most transparent grin that I couldn''t punch off of a face...

<< Ben, meet Steve, your new neighbor. Steve, Ben. >>

Ghost Mamba was apparently unfazed by his sudden change of status. From the way his blood-thirsty gaze fixed on me, I wasn''t even sure if he even knew he just died, or that I was the one responsible. A sadistic grin returned to his face as he made a lunge at me, before being stopped by an invisible wall. Looking down at his empty hand, Steve seemed a little confused, especially when he suddenly realized that his Haunted Blade was now instead inmyhand.

<< Play nice, boys. I can''t have my own monsters attacking each other. >>

Steve didn''t seem to have heard her, since the bastard was again dashing towards me, his eyes burning with hate.What? He''s going to try to strangle me now? Can you even strangle a robot? I could almost see Persephone roll her eyes as she spoke again.

<< Great. Now I''m stuck withtwoidiots. >>

Chapter 8 - In Progress The High Mage looked unimpressed as I walked over to him, remembering to judder, but completely aware that sparking erratically was beyond my current level of acting. I don''t think it helped that draped over me like a cape the ghost of the Ghost was doing it''s insubstantial best to throttle me after my arguments with Persephone to see if we could try to exorcise him met a stubborn veto. He doesn''t even do anything except annoy the shit out of me. Please just let me kill him again...

<< You shouldn''t have even killed him the first time! It serves you bloody right! Besides I''ll be able to upgrade him with Dungeon Points like I upgraded you >>

"Beeep Booooop! Intruder Defeated!" I chanced my luck. Terendrian''s expression slowly changed to look of boredom with mild irritation. I suppose the silently talking to myself maybe helped give me that malfunctioning automaton look, but I began to think that might not be the best path to follow. "Yes, I dare say he was. Well that was damned regrettable. Can''t say I liked the man, but this hardly seems like a better arrangement!" Zinnaella was in heap on the floor, a snotty, gurgling pile of fraying red curls, silk robes and lace. i was beginning to feel bad. The High Mage on the other hand had full arsehole mode engaged: "Oh do get up cousin! The cad had been trying to kill you for years and it''s his own damned fault for trying to solo what is obviously a Dungeon Boss. Still..." He floated towards me, the blue energy that surrounded him crackling in my face. He then extended his hand within an inch of my forehead and flicked me in the foreheadOww. That''s annoying "...his aggression routine seem a bit off. Let''s try this..." He pinged me in the forehead again, only this time with the force of a thousand suns. I went flying off into the wall leaving a me-shaped dent in the wall. Moments later, as I felt myself peeling off the wall like some kind of spider/man hybrid sliding down the the ceramic sides of a bath tub or toilet bowl, I reflected that I''d maybe done something to piss the generally irritatingly jovial High Mage off and that it might be a good idea to know what it was.

<< I keep forgetting how much you nerfed your Mental Stats, just so you could play around as some kind of time-travelling, alcoholic, iron man. Min-maxing is all well and good, but you''re not made of adamantium and you''re only level 2. You''re going to need to think things through and talk your way out of problems rather than hulk out or beast your way through things >>

How the hell was I suppose to talk my way out of that fight? He just started attacking me!

<< By Thor''s shitting hammer, of course you could have said something at some point! I mean, you''re not a thing! Sure it might not have worked, but worth a shot not to *FUCKING KILL SOMEONE* in front of the Master of the Mystical Arts over there while he''s evaluating you to decide whether or not to put you down. You are so irritating sometimes, it''s like your completely devoid of Charisma! >>

I watched Terendrian''s bored face leak a slow drip of water from the corner of his eye and wondered if reporting it to him was an idea that might regarner his favour... What''s Charisma?I asked Persephone. My lady boss did not answer me, but seemed busy doing something that sounded like shuffling through files, scrolls, or some other items made of paper.

<< I can''t believe I''mstill cleaning up this mess. >>

If the golem-me dies, do I die, too? I was starting to get nervous as the High Mage continued to look at me as if weighing something in his mind, and from Persephone''s hint, I suspected that it might be whether to end me for good. "Beep! Boop! New intruder spotted!" I continued my act, wondering if I could now convince him that I was not a threat. Picking myself up from the floor, I started swinging the Haunted Blade at a blank wall. "Repel-pel-pel intruder!" This is not going to work. Behind me, Zinnaella suddenly stopped sobbing, but I didn''t dare react to the change. Screaming a long string of curses that were too rapid and wordy and contained too many foreign references I didn''t understand, she suddenly lunged at me. "... will be exterminated for a crime so grave against a common dungeon decency that states that a Dungeon Boss should not be wandering amok but stay in a clearly-marked chamber that suggests to adventurers in obvious ways-" I didn''t hear the rest of her reasoning for killing me, as I once again pretended to spin around erratically. "In-tru-tru-tru"This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Yes, I''m trying to ''accidentally'' kill her, too, and I have no fucking clue how Charisma, which I don''t have, is going to help me right now.

<< Stop it! >>

As soon as Persophone let out her annoyed yell, something happened.

-- Minion ''Quicksilver Ben'' has been upgraded to LVL 2! -- -- You now have 2 attribute points to spend. --

<< You are so incredibly high maintenance! I was saving experience for a nice labyrinth, maybe some spooky ghost shit and a second floor, but I guess I have to do something here. >>

Sweet! Attribute points!I''m sure there was a point that Persephone was trying to make and I knew that the middle of a fight was probably a bad time to open up a status screen, but... Attribute Points! I was sure it would balance out. I grabbed out passed Zinnaella''s erratic flailing and my hand enfolded around her face. Had I grown when I leveled? I''m sure I wasn''t this big before...Hmm, something to think about later. For the moment; Lets sort out these Attribute Points! I threw the Assassin back, head first. She flew into the wall, though I could have sworn something cushioned her fall. No matter, hopefully that would have stunned her long enough to sort myself out. I popped open my Stat Screen:

Stats
Health	1	Dexterity	1
Strength	1	Stamina	1
Intellect	3
Physical Resistance	5	EmotionalResistance	6
Magical Resistance	5	Environmental Influence	4
-- You have5points to spend! --
(You will unlock more types of stats as you evolve)

<< I swear to the gods, if you add more points to fucking Environmental Influence I''m going to spend the rest of my life and experience boosting Steve up until he can properly haunt and torment your ass! >>

I guiltily move the curser toward Intellect instead.

<< No... but at least that shows a mild attempt at thought, click on the slightly greyed out box underneath >>

Following her directions I clicked on the grey button with a downward arrow and the mother of all menus opened up, so big that it bounced off the ground and rolled behind me. It whirred and clicked and I could see the options in tiny writing as the highlighter scrolled through it all; Accountancy, Alcohol Tolerance, Archeomancy, Archery, Attitude, Aura, Bar Fighting, Bee-Keeping, Bolivan Folk Dancing... It was a mess, surely some of these were skills more than they were attributes?

<< See this shit is why we normally stick to the basic menu, but you had to turn into a murderous robotic arsehole. >>

I''m not ''murderous''! I was defending myself! He kept trying to kill me!

<< And what are you doing right now exactly?! >>

Zinnaella was stirring on the ground where I had thrown her. I really needed to stomp her face in. I could spend the attribute points later, really I just needed to kill her and get some delicious floating stardust that her corpse would surely extrude.

<< Nonnonononno... See this is where you''re being an idiot. Any Dungeon knows, you always let some escape so that they come back with more... Argh no, you''re dragging me into your stupidity! We weren''t trying to kill anyone this time round, we just wanted to get an Easy Rating and farm noobs. That way we can just chill out for a few months and build up some kind of plan. Look there''s Charisma shove the 2 points in there and we can talk our way out of this! >>

The [Charisma] stat glowed gold in front of my eye -Do you wish to select and add points to this stat? Unlocking this path may prevent you from unlocking others- and I just couldn''t. I really just fucking couldn''t. So what... I just have to accept getting beaten up? Just bow my head, just accept orders?!

<< I mean, you''re a Golem? You chose to be a Golem! Following orders is pretty much what you do!? Why are you fighting me so much on this? >>

I didn''t chose this Phenotype so that I could be controlled and forced to fight like an animal with incredibly shitty owners!

<< No one''s forced you to fight, you could have just have died any time you wanted. Besides whether or not you remember it you''re the one who chose to become a minion, so tell me if you did not want to be an obedient little schmuck why choose to be a Golem on top of that? >>