The Dungeon Fairy: A Dungeon Core Escapade (The Hapless Dungeon Fairy Book 1) Jonathan Brooks (the dot read aloud TXT) 📖

wouldn’t go far for everyone, though each would receive at least a little; Sterge and Gwenda had no need for all the gold, after all, so it was better to spread it around to those who would likely need it.

As she handed the coins over – to Gwenda, as she was the one that would carry their money – the Clan Outpost Leader added something that might end up solving their village’s problem.  “Also, since you were the ones that found the dungeon, there is no Clan tax on anything you – or your group, up to five members – find inside the dungeon.  In addition, you’ll receive a tenth of a percent of the normal 5% tax collected from anyone who delves through this particular dungeon for the period of five years, payable by the local Outpost after every year.  It doesn’t sound like a lot, but over the years it can add up; though, with a new dungeon like this, it might only amount to maybe a dozen or two gold all told.  So, it’s not all bad, right?”

That sounded much better.  It still wasn’t the 50,000 gold that they could’ve gotten, but it was better than nothing.

“One last thing.  When we get set up and groups of Raiders are delving through the dungeon on the regular, the two of you – as long as you’re in the same group – will be able access the dungeon without having to put your names on the list once a week; just let those in charge know at least six hours beforehand so they can shuffle some things around.”

“List?  What are you talking about?” Gwenda asked.

The Elven Outpost Leader chuckled softly.  “I forget that you two are relatively new to being Raiders.  This place is about to get inundated with new Raiders from all over the land, because there aren’t any other safe, lower-difficulty dungeons around.  The only way we can keep any sense of order is by compiling a list – a schedule if you will – of when groups can get into it; it’s been…oh…at least a dozen years since the last new quality dungeon was found, and if I remember correctly, the list at that time went months into the future,” she said, shaking her head.  “Like I said, though, as long as you’re both in the same group, your entire group will have priority…so choose your groupmates wisely, because there are those that might want to take advantage of your inexperience.”  She said it as though it was a bad thing.

Some of what she said echoed some of what the dungeon’s poem had hinted at, which had to mean something.  Sterge still wasn’t exactly sure what that might be, but if they did decide to go back to the dungeon they would certainly be selective in who they went with.  For now, though, it was time they got back home; as it was, it would probably be dark by the time they got back.

They thanked the Clan Outpost Leader and she showed them out, where they started their journey back home.  Sterge couldn’t help but think of all the work that he needed to do in the fields the next day; he hadn’t been planning on using an entire day to do all of this.

And strangely enough, I’m hungry again.

 

*         *         *

 

The door closed behind the two Hill Dwarves and Trevelyan walked back to her desk, glancing at the hated paperwork that seemed to permeate her life – even in this backwater Outpost on the edge of nowhere.  She had taken this post because she wanted a quieter life for a few decades; ever since she lost her love to a delve gone bad a few years ago, nothing seemed to interest her anymore.  Although she still had the skills to fight through some of the toughest dungeons around, she…didn’t really care.  She was prepared to just fade into the background and retire somewhere – perhaps back home in the Eldenwood Forest – but there was a saying in the Clan: once in the Clan, you’re always in the Clan.

That was especially true once you got to a certain Level of Power and achieved a little – or a lot – of notoriety.  After hitting Raider Level 98, there were very few in the Raider Delving Clan that didn’t know her name – other than raw recruits like the two that had just left – and it was almost impossible to “fade into the background”.  By refusing to actually delve anymore, however, she was stuck with the only other choice for someone like her: management.  She wanted to be as far away from the hustle-and-bustle of the big cities near the most popular dungeons because there were entirely too many people who reminded her of…good times.

In Heftington, however, most of the residents didn’t know who she was; even the few groups of Raiders that frequented the Outpost and helped her run it didn’t recognize her because of her appearance.  Once they learned her name they knew who she was, of course, but she didn’t advertise the fact that she was there.  It had been a relatively quiet couple of years there and she was enjoying herself…but that was obviously about to change.

Trevelyan hadn’t been at the Outpost the day when Harwood’s corpse had been returned by the two Hill Dwarves, but she certainly heard about the incident.  She was just glad her subordinates didn’t kill them out of hand for the supposed murder of the Ranger, because that would’ve reflected poorly on her administration; it would’ve been wrong too, she supposed, but that was beside the point.  She applauded their decision to make them Raiders, though, because it didn’t cost them anything but two sets of old starter gear that only the rawest of Clan recruits would deign to wear – and they didn’t get many new recruits out this way.