“We’ll need thirty panes of clear glass- standard size.” The hard looking dwarf standing at the shop counter picked a piece of tough food from his teeth as he considered the remaining items his crew would need for the rest of their job. “We’ll also need eighteen pallets of brick, three stacks of lumber and two pallets of clay shingles.”

  “Very well,” the younger dwarf behind the counter replied. “Are you certain that’s everything, Tjork?” Nest knew Tjork well enough that there was no way he had gotten everything right on the first try. “Some nails or mortar perhaps?”

  Tjork snapped his fingers and pointed at Nest. “That’s it!” The gruff dwarf shook his head. “Forman would have lost it if I forgot nails again. Yes to both.”

  Nest took a deep breath in and slowly released it. “Have you ever considered writing the supply list down?”

  Tjork frowned at the thought. “You know, I’d never considered that. Seems like an extra step.”

  The young dwarf took a longer and deeper breath, trying to ignore the blatant lazy stupidity of the man in front of him. He took a few seconds to jot down some details on an order slip, then finished up some math to figure the final cost. “That’s one rare and four common cores.”

  Tjork looked at the merchant with a hard stare. “Seems a bit steep.”

  Nest shrugged his shoulders. “Not much to be done about it. I’m already giving you wholesale prices. Not enough sinners in the mountain anymore since the guild labeled us a cult.” Nest shook his head. “Fewer sinners out collecting beast cores and loot from other dungeons means less is being brought in. The tree doesn't get as much spirit energy, everything gets a bit more expensive.” The young man held up the paper he’d done his math on. “One rage, four common.”

  Tjork shook his head as he dug through his core pouch. “Damn guild- stopping honest dwarfs from claiming ardite items should be illegal. It goes against their most basic laws.”

  The Sinner’s Guild was the main adventuring guild throughout the empire. All beings who had bound themselves to ardite items were required by guild law to join. If they didn’t, there was one simple alternative. Death.

  Ardite was a rare and powerful metal. Naturally magical in nature, it was a byproduct of dungeon magic. A fact known to few outside The Clan of the Hidden Tree.

  Nest’s people had developed a special relationship with the dungeon that controlled this mountain. Unlike most, they understood what a dungeon core really was. It was a being with powerful abilities and reasoning. A sentient gemstone that could create and destroy at will.

  The dwarven clan had long ago developed a symbiotic relationship with the hidden tree, an A-Ranked dungeon core- bound to the sin of greed- that sat at the center of a split tree, hidden deep within the dungeon they now called home. None knew for sure where it was and many rumors suggested it didn’t stay still for long.

  Nest had always found that idea strange. A tree that moves? What would that even look like?

  Most of the dungeon had been converted. Construction teams like the one Tjork was buying for would purchase materials from shops like the one Nest ran with his family. Those materials were purchased with cores that were brought in from other dungeons that members of their clan had collected.

  Nest provided materials to the construction crews, then filed a report to send to the high council, along with the collected cores- minus his cut. The high council took all the inventory requests from all of the shops in the dungeon to the emissary of the hidden tree, a powerful, humanized, A-Ranked mob that represented the dungeon to their people.

  As long as beast cores and other valuable material were coming into the dungeon, the system worked smoothly.

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  That was until the guild had labeled the hidden tree clan a dungeon cult. A group of zealots that worshiped dungeons as gods.

  Certainly, there were people in the mountain that held the dungeon core in very high regard, even to the point of worship. However, there was no benefit that was garnered from the act. Those who worshiped simply lived the same lives with the same rules as the rest of the clan.

  For the most part, everyone held to the truth of the matter. The dungeon had simply come up with a beneficial way to coexist with their people. It was a Greed dungeon after all. Its ability to passively collect wealth was unmatched by any lesser being. The dwarves simply lived in the wake of that collection. It pulled them along, lifting them up as the dungeon grew stronger.

  “Supplies are in the warehouse.” Nest was no longer invested in the conversation. His mind had returned to the task at hand. He was carving a gift for his mother. A lioness, like the ones that existed deep in the mountain, where the tree had kept things wild. He scratched at the back of his head, near the base of his skull as he continued to cut the lines that would become the lion’s tail.

  He huffed, annoyed at the itching sensation that persisted.

  He placed his knife down and continued to scratch. No matter what he did, the feeling persisted. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the shop counter- he turned, leaning his elbow on the surface. The irritation moved along with him, but stayed in the same spot.

  Heart racing slightly with the strange feeling within his head, he turned again, now facing completely away from the counter.

  The itch was no longer there. Now, directly in the center of his forehead he could only feel a pull. Like a string was tied to him and lightly being drawn in a specific direction.

  Nest’s chest started thumping as his mind focused on the pull. Something within him told him that he needed to follow. That something was waiting for him.

  He stood and walked in the direction of the pull. His heart began to race at the feeling. This was right. It was the correct direction and he needed to find whatever was calling him.

  The young dwarf walked further into the shop, eventually coming to the back door. The pull was no longer directly in front of him, but if he wanted to follow it further, he would need to go through the door- so he did.

  Minutes later, Nest found himself walking down the street. The spot in his mind that pulled him forward moved from side to side as he walked, but it was always in front of him as his feet began to pick up pace.

  Before he knew what was happening, Nest was sprinting. Dungeon tunnels were around him, lit by artificial ambient light. Vegetation he had never seen before began to grow more densely on the walls, as if he were running headlong into a forest. For all he knew, he was.

  The call was too strong. He couldn’t resist the desire to find what was pulling him forward when suddenly-

  The chamber opened. The light was bright as the grassland that filled the massive space spread from wall to wall. Birds flew up from the thick grass and rushed back into hiding as Nest disturbed the peaceful scene.

  He couldn’t see any of it.

  All he could see was the massive tree that stood in the middle of the field. It was alive and beautiful. Even the massive split down its center only fed its character.

  The pull drew Nest forward. He needed to know what he was being drawn to.

  He walked nervously through the grass for what seemed like hours. The chamber was massive. Miles across, but Nest wouldn’t run. Not in this place. Something deep within him told him to treat this place with reverence. Respect.

  As he drew close, the inside of the split trunk of the tree became visible. Inside, a bright glow of yellow drew his attention. The dungeon core.

  For a moment, he thought the core itself was what was drawing him in.

  As he moved closer, it became clear that he was wrong. The core simply sat above something.

  Nest got close enough to see the core up close. It was embedded in the flesh of the tree along the backside of a hollowed section.

  He looked down. At the base of the hollow, there was a knife. It wasn’t a dagger of anything ornate. Just a knife- remarkably similar to the widdling blade he’d left in his shop.

  He looked up at the core once more and it pulsed as if giving him the permission he desired.

  He looked down once more and reached for the blade.

  As he took the blade of swirling blue and black in his hand, it didn’t speak, but he could feel a question burning in his mind.

  “Yes- I will bond with you.”

  Euphoria filled his chest as relief filled him. His entire life, he had been living with something missing, he simply didn’t know it.

  He lifted the ardite carving knife to look at it once more and his vision began to fade. Soon, he felt earth and grass impacting his back as his mind went white.