Egbert was in full damage control mode, Boo was murdering the Ravagers as fast as she reasonably could, and Remorse had eaten at least twenty of the damn things more out of spite than any real hunger; from what Egbert could tell, Remorse wasn’t a big fan of mushrooms. But they kept eventually wandering over and trying to nibble on his feet, just testing the angry mimic who really didn’t need much of a reason in the first place. This had sort of thinned them out, but the hive popped out at least one an hour, usually more.

  There was still a swarm of twenty of the damn things. This was supposed to be a fun additional challenge, like they come nibble on your toes and fingers while you sort keys…not flood the room with an acidic horde! Aghh, okay, I need to just get some rewards in the chests and get some saps to come in and pay me to solve my problems for me.

  Egbert had asked Max about the blue powder in the strange grow room. It wasn’t “drugs,” per se, but it was pretty damn close. It was a rare distillate of the flower petals mixed with...Pixie Dust…of all things, called Zip Dust. It was in fact ungodly valuable, and Egbert had a shitload of it plus the plants to make more, and funnily enough, some pixies downstairs he could shake out for a bit of dust.

  If given to an alchemist and refined further, it could make some really mean mana potions, something that was solidly a second-tier item. If you used it in its raw, uncut form...it would refill some mana and give you a real...”pep” in your step. He gave a small sample to the loot bugs to see what that meant.

  That was a mistake; apparently it was a bit addictive, and the small jar he had given the bugs was well… a lot compared to how big they were. Twitch may have dived into the jar like a starving man into a pig roast—no hesitation and zero restraint. Twitch currently was hoarding his supply of Zip dust in the center of his castle.

  He was also hopped up to the utter gills literally 24/7. Egbert frowned as he watched the blue-encrusted Twitch move so fast from spire to spire that he made a zinging noise as air rushed over his body. His subjects followed him around like a bunch of drug-addled ducklings hoping to get just a taste of the dust as it trailed behind Twitch. Huh...not much I can do about that now. They will run out...in a few…months? Probably?

  Egbert worked on a few more “finishing touches” to the Mimic Village, mostly trying to make it look less like an abandoned tenement that drug dealers and mimics had moved into. First he made it so the fountain in the middle of the damned street was less likely to give septic shock to the first poor bugger it splattered against.

  He demolished the existing font and carved a glorious new one in its place; a kind, bespectacled man poured coins from his hands into a bag. The water poured from the sculpture's hands, weaving over the coins before falling down into the wide bag that acted like the base of the fountain. Then Egbert moved on to the houses.

  The insides were trashed and mostly barren; that wouldn’t do at all if he wanted to fill this place with mimics. He needed set dressing and lots of it. Egbert added new simple furniture. The cheapest tables and chairs he could find were added to each house along with bookcases and cupboards. Then he went about filling it with crap.

  Mass-produced, barely functional cups filled cupboards along with plates and bowls that would horrify any real homemaker. Every house got their bookshelves filled to near overflowing with blank books Egbert found in the store that came as a bundle for a single copper. The two houses containing the madman’s chests each got a theme and a bit more love.

  The first was styled like a hunter's lodge, if the hunter was also probably a serial killer. The most wretched, poorly taxidermied decorations imaginable were scattered about along with pelts and an assortment of fletching tools and half-constructed arrows. The room that held the chest was set up like an herbalist's lair; hanging dried herbs and bubbling cauldrons dotted the tables next to the chest.

  Egbert looked at the room hard for a moment; the malignant glow from the cauldrons and haze slightly filling the house wasn’t quite the vibe he was going for. Huh…I may actually have utterly no idea what a hunter/herbalist's house would look like. This seems a bit more...evil…than intended. Oh well, the coin has been spent, and we don’t do refunds around here!

  He moved on to the next house; there was an excellent selection of rusty armor and weapon stands included in the store. And most importantly, it was dirt cheap. So the other cottage got a military history buff makeover; stands of armor lined the living quarters, and the walls were dotted with a truly random ensemble of weaponry. The chest room got a special touch: a simple but unnecessarily large stand that held an ancient set of horse barding sat annoyingly nestled in the middle of the key pile.

  Egbert went ahead and added a small jar of Zip Dust to each chest. Then he went straight to his front door and put up a dozen tiny jars filled with just a taste of Zip Dust each and added a sign. “Special Limited Time Rewards: Conquer the Mimic Village before supplies run out!” With the bait set out in the open for the adventurers, Egbert sat back and waited.

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  It…didn’t take long… Jeb took a jar, tried it, and ran screeching back to his family. That scene played out a few times with the locals; the housewives absconded with half the sample jars, and even his favorite party of knights took one in confusion, running back to town to test what it was. Egbert was expecting tomorrow to be one hell of a day.

  He wasn’t disappointed at all; the dawning rays of light showed a veritable flock of delvers trudging across the fields towards his door. It was an eclectic mix of housewives, yokels, and knights. As well as a pair of what he thought were gnomes that he hadn’t seen before. The crowd started realizing mid-trip that they all had the same prize in mind.

  Egbert watched in excitement, poofing a bag of spiritual popcorn into his “hands.” Next to himself, he threw one back with a crunch. Things were getting spicy, and they hadn’t even hit the dungeon yet. Everyone had started realizing this was a first-come, first-served affair and started booking it. The early leaders were Jeb, Tammy, and the elder fish folk. Jeb and Grandpa were galloping ahead on the chuthulian hog mount, and Edith had changed into her horrifying blob fish form, thrown Tammy over a shoulder, and plopped forward at a freaky pace.

  The knights were next. Ebert could hear their curses as they ran at a dead sprint after the rapidly gaining yokels. The housewives were solidly holding second to last; dresses hiked up and impractical shoes kicked free as they charged after the knights with a shrill battle cry.

  The two gnomish figures scuttled after the rest of the pack, steadily falling farther and farther behind. Max stepped onto the porch beside Egbert’s view, looking out at the onrushing war parties and cocking a head in confusion at the chorus of war cries. Max looked around for a moment, finally realizing they were all here for the zip powder.

  “Yeah, nope, fuck this. Have fun, Egbert. I’m not going to be carting wood back and forth while this devolves into god knows what.” Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport, Max; this is going to be great. Max quickly shut the front toll door and rushed down the stairs to clear the way for the oncoming storm that may or may not have been fueled by a desire for a “slightly” addictive, very valuable magic powder.

  The first group stampeded up the stairs with the clamor of hooves and fishy plop of footsteps. Jeb had coins in hand ready to go, and they barely slowed as they expertly paid tolls and slammed doors closed behind themselves, blistering straight through the lootbug room.

  They wasted no time; Hank stayed on his mount and went first, with Edith. Jeb and Tammy took up the rear. They paid the toll for the loot pit difficulty and ran straight into the room. Egbert could tell they were taking things really seriously this time. They hadn’t brought any of the kids, and not a single fishy joke had been made yet; it was almost unnerving.

  Alright, how do you plan to get past this room, or are you simply going to loot here and call it good? You guys still haven’t beaten the pit.

  Edith plodded forward, her blob fish half jiggling with each splattery step. Oh gods, I'm going to be sick. She reeled her head back and began an unholy crooning burbling chant: “I call upon the dark waters of the scum, the eddies of the lilies, and the inevitability of the salmon breeding season! Let us splotch forth unimpeded to our path!” What the fuck? Edith stood there, arms raised, holding mana coursing through her fingers, expectantly looking towards Jeb.

  Hank slapped Jeb upside the head. “Dammit, boy, throw the water balloons! She needs a conduit for the power! Jeb stammered for a moment like an idiot before fumbling in his backpack for a bucket full of fist-sized jiggly balloons made from some kind of fleshy material. Ahh, yep, that's more in line with what I was expecting.

  Jeb threw a few balloons at his family’s feet and then, with a surprisingly good arm, sailed another half dozen over the pit. They splashed down seemingly on target in a cluster near the door. Edith released the mana she had been holding straight down into the puddle below them.

  It turned black, and not a normal black, but an inky, light-eating, swirling maelstrom that had tiny pieces of kelp twisting madly inside of it. Slowly the puddle expanded into a portal that was matched by the puddle on the other side. Oh hells, that trick is going to cause me no end of problems, I know it.

  The family dived into the brackish portal with hollers and hoots, and in Edith’s case, a terrifying gurgling sound. They all shot out on the other side of the pit in a spray of water. Hank took the lead again, trotting right up to the next door and yanking it open.

  The moment the family passed into the next room and set eyes on the underground river, Egbert realized he fucked up. I really didn’t consider that having any implications, but I should have. Edith’s eyes lit up with a yellow sheen like the orbs of a deep-sea angler. She didn’t even venture farther over the bridge, simply flinging herself off the edge into the waters.

  Hank sighed deeply. “Stop it, hunny! Let's go get that powder; we can pay for the young ones to get a real education with that! Nothing is going to answer you!”

  Jeb ignored his grandfather shouting words of encouragement towards Edith as she raised her staff high in the air and began chanting eldritch bullshit. “You got this, Grandma! The Deep Pond folk shall rise again!” Tammy shared a long-suffering look with Hank, who simply sighed and began trotting into the village.

  Oh dammit, this again? Stop trying to entreat the dark powers for a boon. Oh shit...this is a lot more, well, horrifying when she has access to water…

  The entire river had turned to a bubbling, roiling, inky black, and inexplicable massive shapes flickered on the edges of everyone’s vision. Edith raised her staff higher, droplets throughout the room rising into the air with each word of her chant. It was even more complex and powerful than the last time.

  [Patron Pact Offered]

  [Accept]

  [Reject]

  Pfft, we’ve been over this. I don’t wish to become the inbred pond scum dungeon, thank you very much!

  The system shuddered for a moment.

  [Patron Pact No Longer Available]

  Wait, what...I didn’t press anything…

  Egbert looked around in confusion until he saw one of his minions glowing with newfound powers it was never meant to wield. Oh, you little shit!