The Dungeon Anarchist's Cookbook (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #3)

by Matt Dinniman

Hello, Crawler. As you’re about to find, this is a very special book. If you’re reading these words, it means this book has found its way into your hands for one purpose and one purpose only. Together, we will burn it all to the ground.

But more importantly, there is no shame in wanting to protect those who are your hive, even if you never knew them. For they are yours, and they are being taken. It is us or it is them. There is consolation in dying in the pursuit of justice, no matter how small or big that death is.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, anger rising. “Your rented slave labor isn’t participating like how you wanted? Well, let me look for some sympathy.” I patted myself on the chest. “Nope, all out.” The alien looked as if he was about to cry.

Carl: Donut, be cool. This doesn’t have to turn into a fight. She was trying something, and whatever it was, it didn’t work. We don’t want to fight her. “You tried to kill Katia you fucking bitch!” Donut cried. She blasted a full-strength Magic Missile right into Hekla’s face.

Donut the cat that you are

Yes, I thought. There is hope for us. Not a lot. But it’s there.

But suddenly there was a line of people, all of them putting their hats in a pile of front of Donut. Her eyes shined, and her jaw trembled, revealing her two lower fangs as the people, one by one bowed in front of her and dropped the stupid train hat on the ground in tribute. “Thank you, Princess,” they said, one by one.

Carl: Holy shit I have a glorious idea. Mordecai: No.

Donut purred heavily in my ear. “You shouldn’t have done that, Donut,” I said as I reached up and scratched her. “You risked yourselves, and you risked the cart.” “I wasn’t just going to abandon you, Carl,” Donut said. “Who do you think I am? Miss Beatrice?” “No,” I agreed. “You most definitely are not.”

The entire group waited for us. The stairwell had been open for some time now, but nobody had gone down yet. They all waited for us.

They will not break me. Fuck them all. They will not break me. But I will break them. This is my promise to myself, to my friends, and to you, anyone who reads these words. I will break them all. - Crawler Carl, 25th Edition of The Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook