The Butcher's Masquerade (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #5)

by Matt Dinniman

Elmer. Level 40. Ursine. Mayor of this settlement. Hoo boy. An Ursine. So there are bears, which are the vicious, brutal-yet-somehow-cuddly creatures we all know and love. And then there are the Ursine. They’re 49% bear, 51% racist uncle who works for the IRS and has to hide his erection when he prepares for an audit. I have nothing against those who choose to live a saintly existence or those who choose to find hope and peace in comfort in a life of purity and virtue. Actually, that’s a lie. I hate these smug fucksticks. Why? Because of the gods damned hypocrisy. It’d be one thing if these hairy bitches practiced what they preached, but all of their rules and self-righteousness is nothing but a shiny veneer covering up the fact they’re just as rusted and immoral and imperfect as the rest of us. If internet porn was a thing in the dungeon, there’s no doubt these repressed assholes would be the number one connoisseurs of gnomish femdom porn or something of the like. Well, except maybe after the Gingers from the seventh floor. But you get the idea. They think they’re better than everybody else.