Cat Core 3, Chapter 7.

Chapter 7.

“I don’t like that feeling one bit, but if this core thinks a little headache is enough to keep me out, he better reconsider,” Florence said as they reentered the dungeon. This time, there was no flood of creatures trying to stop them, and the place was eerily quiet. Doug had suggested that the dungeon might be at a fairly low level, despite having been around for longer than Florence’s had. The crummy rewards and remote location would stifle the normal steady flow of adventurers that Florence’s home had enjoyed. That was just fine with Florence, anything that limited the dungeon’s mana pool and creature count was a good thing.

“Lead the way, Doug, I know you’re a bit scared, but put on your big kitty pants, you have the best chance out of all of us to find ambushes or traps before they strike,” Florence said when Doug seemed hesitant to take the lead.

“I don’t wear pants, thank you very much, my luxurious coat is more than enough for both modesty and style,” Doug said, strutting a bit as he took point. Florence let him have his little boast, if the guy needed it to boost his confidence, she would refrain from setting him straight.

“Well, that should do it,” Fizz said as they walked past the first few rooms of the dungeon. He slung the zappy weapon thing over his shoulder, finished with whatever he did to repair it. Florence wasn’t so sure it was fixed, it kind of made a humming noise it hadn’t made before.

“I don’t know about that, Fizz? I fear that contraption is as much a hazard to us as it is to whoever you’re shooting at,” Doug complained. Fizz didn’t respond and Florence didn’t want to push the issue. If the gnome tinkered with the weapon any further, it was likely to blow them all up or something. Doug got to work, and Florence thought that he looked adorable as he began sniffing the ground in front of them, seeking any hidden dangers as they pushed onward.

“Well, this room isn’t too bad, but overall, the place is a dump. You hear that core? You should be ashamed of how run down your home is. Show some pride of ownership why don’t you,” Florence said. She was correct, of course, each room was a variation on the overall theme of the dungeon, too bad that theme was a filthy cave tunnel with a wilted plant or two scattered about.

“This is likely the floor champion’s room, which accounts for the slightly elevated décor,” Doug said. The champion room had a bit more foliage and a pool of water that was fed from a small waterfall. It sounded and looked nice enough, but she suspected it smelled awful given that a big old gorilla lived in the place.

A tunnel led deeper underground and if she hadn’t been a core shard, Florence would have found it too dark to navigate. Fizz had minor difficulty in the complete darkness, but their link must have helped him at least a little bit, because he didn’t ask for a torch, or build some contraption to light their path. After twenty or so yards, the tunnel stopped its descent and opened into a dark cavernous room, letting them know that they had reached the next level of the dungeon.

“How many floors do you think this place has?” Florence asked. She was trying to remain confident, but she was a bit worried that there might still be levels of the dungeon chock full of critters waiting to tear them apart.

“Perhaps only two. I was a bit surprised there were only five rooms before the champion room on the first floor. Usually, the number of rooms gets smaller with each level, just like with our home. Given the numbers that attacked us earlier, I’d say all the first-floor and maybe a good portion of the second-floor defenders are likely to have been used up. It’s possible that we may only have a champion to face,” Doug said.

“Gah! Duck!” Fizz shouted, dropping to the ground and at the same time cranking up his zapper. Florence followed suit, Fizz was a bit squirrely, but he looked genuinely concerned. Thankful her garments could be cleaned at will, Florence thought as she dropped down to a floor that was dirty and coated in something gross that she couldn’t identify.

“No, let go!” Doug shouted as something landed on his back and dug its claws in. It was an oversized bat of all things, and it looked like it was trying to haul Doug up off the ground. A breeze flowed past Florence as another of the bats swooped past her, missing her back with its claws by only a few inches.

“Get to zapping Fizz. Doug, quit playing around with that thing,” Florence ordered. She had to admit, she made a good leader in a fight, but of course, she was always pretty good at directing others at a task. Some might call her bossy, but she knew they were just jealous of her organizational skills.

“Yowch, that stings a bit,” Fizz said as he fired his weapon. The feedback was stronger this time, but she noticed he hadn’t needed to crank the zapper as much before he fired, was there some new modification? It did give off a big old bolt of electricity that hit the bat that had swooped down on Florence. The bat squealed and went stiff, dropping about a dozen feet to the ground as its muscles locked up from the electricity Fizz had pumped into it. Landing only a few feet from Florence, she rolled over and started whacking it with her cane, that there bat wasn’t going to get off the ground again if she had any say in the matter.

“A little assistance please,” Doug hollered. He was now about ten feet off the ground and climbing as a second bat joined in to help haul the tiger-sized kitty into the air. Those bats likely had some kind of nest or whatnot up there where they planned to eat Doug for dinner, or drink his blood, or whatever it is that bats do to their prey. She was having none of it. Not flying rats were going to eat her Douggie, no siree. Florence channeled her mana into casting Empower Beast.

Now, Florence wasn’t like some dopey mage that needed to make all kinds of weird gestures and chant and all that mumbo jumbo, she just set her mind to the task and the magic went to work. The spell hit Doug and he swelled up and grew, the additional weight caused the pair of bats to struggle and with his enhanced strength, Doug redoubled his efforts to squirm and try to break their grip on his back. Anyone who’s ever tried to pick up a cat that didn’t want to be picked up knows how hard it is to keep a hold of a squirming ball of fur, teeth, and claws.

The bats didn’t have a chance. One of Doug’s legs broke free and that allowed him to activate his slashing ability which instantly landed two hits on the bat’s claw. With a shriek, the bat’s claw was cut free from his body and the wounded bat let Doug go. The pair of bats might have had a chance to haul Doug up to wherever they were taking him, but his squirmy weight was too much for the single bat still holding on and they plummeted toward the ground. Being a cat and all, Doug had no trouble landing on his feet. The bat gave up on trying to capture Doug, and instead, was frantically flapping his wings in an attempt to gain some altitude. Doug was having none of it, he leaped up and swatted the bat to the ground, tearing into it with his oversized teeth and claws.

Fizz’s zapper fired again, the bolt streaking toward the ceiling of the cavern where another bat must have been lurking. The limp and twitching body of his target fell to the top of the dark cavern, splatting to the ground off in the distance. Unfortunately, Fizz was also out of action as the feedback from his weapon left the gnome twitching on the gunked-up floor. Florence had finally finished off the bat she was smashing with her cane and stood up to go help Doug who seemed to be doing just fine on his own. While her companion was turning the bat into a chew toy, the one that had lost a foot used his distraction to line up an attack on her big kitty, but when it got into range, Florence was already there with her cane leading the way.

Her cane crunched into the beast, causing it to miss its target and slam into the ground dead from the dual impacts of the cane and the cavern floor. Doug was just about to finish off his target, so Florence checked on the gnome. Fizz had stopped twitching and lay still on the floor,  but his groaning told her that he was still alive. She poked him with her cane a few times, which usually helped in most situations. Fizz didn’t seem to appreciate her ministrations and tried to swat the cane away.

“Stop hitting me, I’m not a bat,” Fizz grumbled, struggling to his feet.

“You’re welcome, Fizz, that poking is what brought you back to the land of the living,” Florence told him.

“No, it didn’t, but I appreciate the thought. Ugh, what I don’t appreciate is all this mess, phew, it stinks,” Fizz said, trying to brush off the slimy floor coating. Florence had already taken a few seconds to clean herself, but the gnome didn’t have that luxury of her ability. Hopefully, he had packed a few changes of clothes inside that bag of his.

“I believe it is bat guano, nasty, but good as a fertilizer I’ve heard,” Doug said, trotting over and licking his wounds. Being a core shard companion meant he healed up right quick as long as he wasn’t in a fight. Given the depth of some of the gouges on his back, Florence figured it would be a minute or two before he was back at 100%.

“Hey, you’re a cat, you should have smelled this gunk and realized bats were about to swoop down on us,” Florence chided.

“Yes, I am a feline, but that doesn’t mean I’ve smelt bats or their guano before. Besides, my body is a construct of your core, I don’t exactly gather scents in the same way a regular cat would. For me, it’s more like data that my nose sorts through, and without a reference point for bats and guano in my nasal database, I couldn’t identify the threat in time,” Doug said.

“Huh? That don’t make any sense Doug, but how about we do this. If you smell any weird data, you holler out that there might be a threat. It’s kind of embarrassing that my giant kitty got bushwhacked by bats. How is this other core supposed to take us seriously? You going to be okay, Fizz” Florence asked.

“I’m good, I think, but the Fizzbolt 1000 is going to need some work before it’s operational again. Don’t worry, I have a backup weapon,” Fizz said. He dug into his pack and pulled out an almost normal-looking crossbow. It wasn’t quite normal since it was fed with a magazine, but from what Florence could see, he’d still have to reset the string after each shot.

“You okay to keep going Doug, or do you need a bit to heal up?” Florence asked.

“I’m fine, the damage was painful but looks worse than it was. It’s already starting to heal,” Doug said. He was right, while the wounds didn’t close up almost instantly like they would if he was hit with a healing spell, she could see the talon wounds on his back were smaller than they had been. She didn’t have a good frame of reference just yet on exactly how fast he would heal, but Doug said he would keep track of it, so they’d be better informed in the future. As long as he kept his eyes and data processing nose peeled, she was happy.

“Why do you suppose the bats didn’t join the attacks on us earlier?” Fizz asked.

“They’re nocturnal creatures and likely don’t perform as well in bright light. They’d probably have been useless outside, better to keep them behind in the dark cavern as an additional line of defense against our intrusion,” Doug said. Florence didn’t bother to point out that he was smart enough to know that bats were nocturnal but still hadn’t figured out that they were swooping down on them.

A small passage led to the next room in the dungeon, this one had a bit more foliage than the others and was almost like a jungle inside. Of course, the dungeon still displayed its usual lack of taste and all that overgrowth was an ugly thing, not organized and nice like the lawn of her home and the neat planters in front. This place was devoid of defenders, and Florence was getting hopeful that they wouldn’t have to face too much more. Despite her desire for a less life-threatening challenge, it just didn’t seem right.

“Hey Doug, I know this place is in the bad part of town and not that popular, but shouldn’t it be better stocked with critters? We only faced some pigs and monkeys, and a floor champion that was killed off by the locals, but even when our home was a lower level, we had more numbers than this.

“Despite the obvious comment that you’ve now jinxed us, I do agree that the dungeon core should have more available for its defense. Let’s proceed with caution,” Doug said. They pushed on, past a room with piles of big rocks, and Florence was sure that monkeys would suddenly appear to throw them at her, but the place remained quiet and devoid of defenders.

After another boring room, they finally came to the first door in the dungeon. It was made from thick, aged wood and was carved with ornate images of monkeys, chimps, apes, and whatever all them types of things is. All the images depicted the beasts smashing and tearing apart intruders. Doug even found a trap, which Fizz had far too much fun disarming. Had they not caught it, poisoned darts would have shot out of various spots in the door. It wouldn’t have done much good against their group, given how she and Doug were immune, and Fizz had likely inherited some resistance to poison from being part of Florence’s home.

“Hey dungeon, now, this is how you decorate the place. I’ve been critical of you so far, but the door is right good work. I hope you’ve designed the champion room to as high a standard,” Florence said. She could still feel the core’s presence, it seethed with fury and pain for some reason. She wasn’t exactly sure it was even listening to her.

Fizz and Florence pushed on the now unlocked door. It squealed on its hinges as it slowly opened, Doug stood by to deal with anything that might rush out to fight them. When they had it open enough, the group charged in, Doug warning them that he smelled something like the floor champion ape inside. This looked like it might be the final dungeon champion’s room. It was a good effort at design and reminded Florence of an ancient jungle temple. It looked worn down by time, with moss growing over statues and the several fallen pillars that lined the open temple grounds. A slab of stone, stained with dried blood—probably the dungeon's attempt at a scary sacrificial altar—was placed in the middle of the temple.

“Oh, that’s not good,” Doug said. It was an understatement. There, standing right behind the blood-stained altar was the biggest ape Florence had ever seen. This big boy would give old King Kong a run for its money, and to make matters worse, it had two heads and four arms. How was their little level one group supposed to fight that?