Merchant Crab

The crab stood motionless amid the darkness of the tunnel, as if worried any sudden movement would cause whatever unknown being was observing him to pounce.

Every bristle in the back of Balthazar’s shell stood up. A human would have likely called what he was experiencing “goosebumps,” but the crustacean knew that not to be a fitting name for it. Both because he had no skin, but more importantly, because he’d never approve of the use of any bird-related analogies for anything to do with his body.

Crabbumps. That was what Balthazar was feeling. A much better name for it.

After a harrowing moment of stillness where nothing happened, the crab finally spun around.

There was no one else there as far as he could tell, yet he still felt observed. Analyzed. Perhaps… scanned?

He realized the uncomfortable feeling pulsing up and down his body was not only exterior but also coming from within.

Is the… system doing this?

The warning remained in his vision, unchanging, except for the blinking dots at the end.

[Analyzing intruding entity…]

Suddenly, the line disappeared, seemingly done with its analysis, and a new one appeared, shortly followed by a second.

[Local detected. Presence permitted.]

[Adventurer detected. Deploying deterrents.]

After a couple of seconds, the sequence of lines repeated, over and over again, as if the system was confusing itself.

[Local detected. Presence permitted.]

[Adventurer detected. Deploying deterrents.]

[Local detected. Presence permitted.]

[Adventurer detected. Deploying deterrents.]

“What in the world?” Balthazar muttered, squinting at the text in his sight. “Great, this thing is borked now!”

After several rows of the conflicting messages, the system finally produced a new line.

[Unclassified entity detected. Analyzing…]

The intense feeling of being observed washed over the crab once again, but this time he felt less bothered by it.

“Go on, give me a good look!” he said with defiance, spinning in place with arms extended and torch held high. “Calling me unclassified. Pfah! The gall of this thing!”

Aggrieved by the system’s lack of manners toward his formidable self, the merchant decided to dismiss its message and push forward, giving it the cold shoulder. Or rather, the cold… shell?

“I’m perfectly classified!” Balthazar mumbled to himself as he walked deeper into the dungeon. “I’m Balthazar! An expert merchant! I’ve been to the other side of the continent! I’ve seen things, done things! I’ll walk into a dungeon that pops up next to my home if I damn well plea—”

A dragged rattling echoed from somewhere up ahead, making the crab jump in place and nearly drop his torch.

What was that?! the merchant thought, his stomach dropping inside his shell and his bravado running away from him faster than a rogue caught cutting a coin purse.

The crab carefully pushed his golden monocle closer to his left eye with a pincer as he peered into the pitch-black area the sound had come from. No lines of text appeared, but the merchant was not even sure if the monocle’s ability to examine objects and beings would work for something shrouded in darkness.

For his own sake, Balthazar hoped there really was nothing there.

“Remember what they always say, Balthazar,” the whispering crustacean said to himself. “Must have been the wind.”

The eight-legged intruder took a couple of tentative steps forward, as if testing the temperature of his pond’s water on a cold morning. The strange feeling of having every part of his being observed by some unseen entity remained, but the crab did his best to ignore it.

Until another new line from the system appeared below the one calling him unclassified.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

[Dungeon manager not found. Reconfiguring…]

As usual, this thing doesn’t know what it’s doing.

Balthazar moved his torch around, trying to find anything other than a dusty stone floor and empty spaces. No matter where he turned, he found nothing, not even walls. Each step he took echoed back from every direction, telling him that wherever he was, the chamber was huge and mostly empty.

Where’s all the chocolate?! I haven’t even found a single piece of gold yet either! Worst dungeon ever!

As he was making a mental note to leave a one star out of five on Dungeon Advisor for that place later, the merchant felt a subtle shift in the air, like a passing draft that felt slightly warmer.

Feeling drawn to it—and because he had no better leads to follow—Balthazar skittered on in the direction of the warmth.

Whether because the new area had an inkling of light coming in from somewhere or simply because his eyes were starting to adapt to the darkness, the crab began to perceive very faint signs of the architecture in the void around him.

Approaching with his torch in pincer, he saw a pillar appear in the radius of its orange light. It was made of stone, it was old, and it looked close to crumbling, but it was definitely no natural formation. Someone had constructed it. He was definitely inside a room or chamber of some kind.

Pushing a few steps further, one more line of system text appeared, as if to confirm Balthazar’s hypothesis.

[Halls of Semla discovered]

I must be in the right place!

Another notification slid into view.

[Undiscovered location revealed. Large amount of experience received.]

[You have reached Level 29!]

Sweet! I’ll have to sort through the level-up points once I’m out of here.

His enthusiasm quickly fled from him as another sound of something scraping against the floor came from somewhere close. Very close.

“Wh-who’s there?” the crab stammered, spinning around on his eight legs and looking for any signs of movement.

Real smart, Balthazar. Like whatever is hiding in the dark would just respond to your question.

While no voice replied to his words, a response did come, in the form of footsteps. Slow, dragged steps, hitting the stone floor with heavy, dry thuds, an unsettling rattling accompanying each one.

“Uhh, never mind!” Balthazar said. “I don’t want to know who’s there anymore. Forget I asked!”

As he turned around to put some distance between himself and the approaching noise, the ever-pestering system decided to chime in yet again.

[Warning! Core status: unassigned]

Core?! Balthazar thought, halting on the spot. That’s it. That has to be the source of the chocolate. Or at least where all the treasure of this place would be. I’d take either!

With greed and gluttony glistening in his shiny, beady eyes, the crab failed to notice the dragging footsteps had picked up speed and were now coming up behind him—and fast.

“Huh?” the merchant exclaimed as he turned around, alerted by a shift in the air behind him.

A flash of white emerged from the darkness, entering the orange halo of light from the crab’s torch with a moaned growl.

Before Balthazar’s eyes could process what he was looking at, his Monocle of Exposition had already produced a descriptive line above the incoming assailant.

[Savage Skeleton - Level 31]

“What the—”

The bony undead lunged forward at the crab, who skittered back instinctively, causing it to stumble and grab nothing but air.

The skeleton was covered in old, shredded rags that did little to cover its yellow, damaged bones.

Strangest part of it all, however, was what the skeleton wore atop its brittle skull—a party hat.

It was also old and dusty, its once colorful stripes practically all faded away, but the cone-shaped hat still remained firmly attached to the cranium of its owner by a worn-out rope wrapping under the jaw.

Balthazar remembered Tom and his other skeleton friends from Tudor’s Hall. Next to this one, they would almost look dapper.

“Hey there, friend,” the crab started, trying to call the creature to reason. “Nice to meet ya! I’m just a crab, not an adventurer. No need for the whole spooky theatrics and whatnot.”

The bony figure rose slowly, turning its empty eye sockets to the talking crustacean.

“Maybe you know Tom?” Balthazar continued. “I’m a good friend of—Woah!”

The skeleton let out a grotesque snarl and swung an arm at the crab, its sharp bone claw cutting through the air like a blade, missing him by a bristle.

Balthazar looked at the rabid attacker with wide eyes as he began to suspect that maybe—just maybe—that skeleton was not as friendly and civilized as Tom and company.

The monocle did say savage…

It came at the merchant again, dragging a twisted ankle behind. Balthazar figured that was probably what was slowing the creature down and making it so ineffective at striking him.

Damn it, I really wanted to believe I was becoming good at dodging.

As the crab moved back to keep a safe distance between himself and the skeleton, more unsettling noises started echoing from all around them.

Dragging, scraping, and gurgled moans. And also a squeaking sound.

Of course there would be more skeletons…

Balthazar turned to get away from the unwelcome party coming his way when he realized he had no idea where to go. All the spinning and surrounding darkness left him with no reference as to which way was which, and the noises seemed to come from every direction.

“Ah, crabapples! I came here for chocolate and gold, not to be mauled by Tom’s less civilized cousins!”

A bead of figurative sweat—that was most likely just cave humidity—ran down the side of his shell as Balthazar skittered a few paces and found himself in front of a wall.

“Oh, great,” he complained. “Now I found where the walls are.”

He turned, and by the edge of the light from his torch the crab saw the humanoid shapes of the skeletons closing in on him, each bony shape looking as decrepit and wild-looking as the first. The funny-sounding squeaking intensified.

Real concern began creeping up on the merchant. Despite his claims to his friends, deep down he knew he was not prepared to take on that encounter.

How am I going to get myself out of this—

His thoughts were cut short as the system—once more—decided to badger him with another one of its vague and unhelpful warnings.

Oh, for the love of custard… What now?!

[Unclassified entity - legacy system access detected.]

[Matching permissions found.]

[Link to core?]

Balthazar’s eyestalks furrowed.

Wait. Is this thing talking about… me?