Egbert was enjoying the relative calm that had come over his dungeon. The Fisherfolk had been coming in and out regularly. Literally bouncing between fishing in the lake below and then chasing loot bugs until they got too tired.

  Then they would shamefully make their way back down the stairs to fish some more before they got the gumption to come rushing up the stairs again full of questionable enthusiasm and misplaced confidence. Ready and willing to become victims to the cruel mistress that is gravity.

  They hadn’t even been phased by the new door engraving. Well, I imagine only two of them can even read it without risking an aneurysm from the sheer scholastic effort. And I think the eldritch elders already solidly knew what this place was the moment their fishy extremities saw what wonders hide within my halls.

  Egbert hadn’t seen Max for a couple days now since they discussed his rather ambitious plans. Greed didn’t necessarily dislike the idea; he just wasn’t sure how feasible it was. If it worked, he would have an amazing addition to his dungeon that he didn’t have to pay for. Egbert could already imagine the rich merchants being carried through his halls on palanquins by manservants, coin purses loosened by Max’s rather questionable bartending habits. And well, if it didn’t work, he would have a lot of kegs of ale and slightly bloodstained fancy clothes to figure out what to do with.

  Another cluster of people stepped onto his porch; he was a bit surprised, as it was nearly sunset. Huh, man, the yokels are really determined today. I really hope it isn't Edith again. I don't know how much more of her whispering to the walls trying to entreat me to share my dark gifts I can take today.

  Egbert zipped on over to his porch. It was very much so not the fish folk. But there were some familiar faces. Oh ho. You guys, I actually kind of missed you guys! It was Joe, Carter, Ben, and Randy, the knights that had made one hell of a drunken effort here a week ago. Oh hell, they look properly prepared this time.

  All of them had noticeable small potion bandoliers; Ben and Joe both had some very neatly wrapped rope attached to their packs. Their armor and weapons looked well kept; they had even taken off their signature knightly order capes. Joe had a noticeable new amulet that glowed with an ethereal blue that Egbert was sure was something that could tell Mr. Stealy to fuck off. They also looked scarily one hundred percent sober this time.

  Well damn, I guess I'm about to get a real rude awakening to what well-prepared delvers are like. Joe gestured at the new engraving above the door with his short sword. “Fucking called it! I told you guys that there was something real fucky about this place last time; even the mages wouldn’t keep a homicidal pet ghost.”

  Carter twirled a very long dagger thoughtfully. “So do we know what kind of dungeon it is? Mana aberration? Oh, maybe there's just a tier three monstrosity hiding at the bottom.”

  Randy interrupted. “We could just ask...if it answers, we know. Now let’s get the fuck back in there; it can’t have changed that much in a week.” Heheheheh, that's where you are wrong, Randy. They slotted coins into the toll door and advanced in an organized manner, with Joe up front with his shield. Egbert smiled at how they had all opted to not pay for the monster protection pass. Makes sense, though they are knights; if they are delving, they want the essence. I bet they would get a decent chunk of levels if they duke it out with Contempt this time and don’t die.

  The quartet of knights came to an abrupt stop in the loot bug room. Ben looked around nervously before saying what everyone was thinking. “Uhhh...the whole damn room got overhauled in a week. Also, where did the mimic door go? Dungeons don’t change this fast…”

  Randy stepped forward, fire dripping from his longsword. “They don’t change this fast unless they have a will of their own…isn’t that right, Greed!” The way Randy proclaimed his opinion was like he was trying overtly hard to mimic a hero from legend; he even leveled his flaming swords forward dramatically to punctuate his point. Oh gods, this is going to be fun!

  “Welcome to the dungeon of greed, challengers. Power awaits those brave enough to succeed and damnation for those too poor to contribute.” Egbert's voice crawled evilly throughout the room from the pet rock.

  Ben let out a small stifled scream that trailed off as his party all looked at him shamefully. Joe was the first to speak up. “Sentient, got it… This is dangerous, guys. Ignore its honeyed words; this thing profits from our deaths first and foremost.” I mean, I would rather have repeat customers…

  Randy lowered his sword from its dramatic pose and looked at Joe incredulously. “Man, the thing just said if we are poor, it’s going to eat our souls. How does that count as honeyed words?” Joe shrugged, keeping his shield at the ready. That is not what I said...but if it gets you to pay, I'll run with it.

  Carter had been slowly edging away from the group, looking curiously at the myriad of treasure chests hanging from the ceiling in the tangle of ropes. “Meh, fuck it!” Carter’s form blurred slightly as he kicked off the air itself and launched himself into the ropes.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Randy looked over with a smile. “That’s the spirit, Carter! Get that treasure.”

  Joe sighed, letting his shield lower slightly. “Yeah, Carter, break party cohesion and go off on your own above a death pit that can only go well.” Joe said sarcastically.

  Carter ignored them, awkwardly looping a rope around an arm to hold himself in place while he reached out, trying to open chests with one hand. He popped the nearest few open after a couple of tries, shouting excitedly as the third one he opened had a small coin pile in it. You know I have utterly no idea which one is the mimic, and honestly I don’t want to use Identify and ruin the surprise.

  Ben gestured at Carter. “What is this bullshit? He’s climbing around collecting coins. like he's picking fucking fruit. Last time I got brutalized by dungeon traps.” Joe nodded heartily in agreement.

  “Be careful; there is always something protecting the loot here!” Joe warned. Carter made a “Bah” sound and pocketed a few more handfuls of coins before winding his body back and forth to build momentum and leaping to one of the platforms expertly. He effortlessly leaped once and then twice more, landing in the back alcove; his eyes lit up as he peered into the Iffy mana converter's window. “Uhh, holy shit, guys, this fucker has mana crystals for sale.”

  All of them swung their heads toward him at once in a jumble of hurried words: “Wait, really?”

  “How much!?”

  “It’s not a mimic pretending to be a crystal, right?”

  Carter looked back. “No seriously, guys, there are like ten mana crystals here!” Carter slotted in a gold coin, and the mana crystal dropped out of the chute; his eyes were wide in pleasant surprise.“Guys, it’s only a gold coin!” The party started stampeding over each other towards the jumping puzzle. Oh dammit, I never asked Max how much those damned things were worth! Obviously I should have charged more! I’m really going to end up collapsing the prices of certain commodities if I don’t figure out their market value.

  The hissing voice of the pet rock stopped the knights right as they were about to jump. “Limit 2 Per Person! Also, you, Carter, how much are those worth?”

  Carter looked a bit taken aback. “Uhh...well, I’m not an expert, but crappy mana crystals start at about six gold; these look really, really rough, to be honest, so somewhere in that neighborhood. Also, Mr. Greed, sir, why is this thing making a hissing sound?” Carter looked closely at the glowing cracked purple crystal in his hand; there was a visible trail of mana leaking out of one of the larger cracks.

  “No refunds!” Egbert said quickly and chose not to elaborate further on why the rock he was holding might explode. Oh boy, that very first one might be one of those “basically a bomb” duds.

  All the other knights started leaping for the platforms with various degrees of dexterity in armor. Ben had no problem making it all the way to the alcove in just 5 bounding strides without slowing, nearly squishing a loot bug en route. Randy was taking each hop with a carefully planned swing of the arms in a long jumper's stance, obviously struggling with the weight of his armor.

  Joe, normally the most reasonable of the group, took a sprinting start and tried to basically fling himself across the two-stride gap. He made it right onto the platform and then right off the side in a sparking, skittering shriek as his shield got in the way of him being able to grab the pillar and stop himself. He hit the bottom of the pit with a dull thud and a curse.

  “Ha, oh shit, you all good?” Ben called down to him.

  Carter was ignoring the commotion behind him, eyes instead locked onto the small horned loot bug that was hatefully humming abyssal at him from eye level. ”Guys? Didn’t you say there was an especially mean bug here?” Carter said while slowly backing away from Contempt, gold and black mana swirled through his horns, briefly taking the form of screaming faces. Oh damn, how much is it in the store to buy popcorn? I really want it for this; everything is about to spiral deliciously.

  Egbert checked the store real quick before the fighting/screaming began.

  *[Spiritual Popcorn](5 silver)

  Why? Why would you make me add this? You don’t eat; you can’t. Is it just a comfort thing? Regardless, here is… a metaphysical bag of popcorn, you can sort of almost taste the essence of buttery goodness. Will also produce a sourceless popcorn crunchy sound that might make delvers uncomfortable.

  Perfect! I'll splurge just this once. Egbert bought the bag of popcorn and settled his view roughly over the loot pit to watch the ensuing chaos. The bag of popcorn “clutched” in the air beside him, he popped one into his “mouth” with a crispy crunch sound. Ahh, gods, yes, now I'm ready. Huh, I really can almost taste the butter.

  Ben looked around confused, sniffing the air. “What the hell was that...is someone cooking?”

  Max-Edens Vale

  Max hobbled quickly down the street towards the mayor's office. He had his hair slicked down and his best shirt on. What he was planning on doing was frankly stupid, but he didn’t have enough time to sell the tavern before the waterfall land became the hottest commodity in the nation. Gods I hope this works as well as I'm thinking it will. Otherwise I'll just be hiding in the dungeon from the debt collectors. It was probably still good that I omitted how fucking much the lordling wants for the waterfall even now. It is the reason no one bothered to buy the damn thing.

  Max went over his mental math one more time as he stood on the obnoxiously clean porch of the office, staring blankly at the small line of people in various states of painful boredom, also waiting their turn with the corpulent town clerk.

  Alright, my tavern is worth a damned pretty penny at this point; it was a life of adventuring worth of savings after all. The lands and the building are worth nearly three hundred fifty gold coins, maybe a bit more now actually. The inventory is easily another hundred gold worth of booze. Maybe another fifty worth of monster trophies if I really get down to it.

  And the waterfall parcel, including the lake and the nearest eight acres, as well as the mining rights to a cave that doesn’t have any damn ore, is… Max checked the sheet of paper he had gotten from the clerks the other day for the fiftieth time. Yeah, fuck, it didn’t magically change. Twenty-five hundred gold pieces… with my tavern as collateral, that should get me the loan, especially since it’s for land…

  The question is what godawful number will my interest rate be, and what, oh dear gods, what will be my mortgage...