Inke stared in mild disbelief at the dungeon fairy.

The fairy glowed, almost paradoxically, the same black as the dungeon core. However, the rest of his appearance was completely at odds with the glow. With light lavender skin and bright, geometric teal wings, he was unlike any other dungeon fairy that Inke had seen.

Then, again, that probably owed more to the fact that he wasn’t themed, for lack of a better word, after the dungeon. Most dungeon fairies both appeared and dressed similarly to the overarching design of their dungeon, which now that Inke thought about it, was an odd coincidence.

She would have at least expected him to wear some sort of black clothing, at least, which he certainly wasn’t.

His face morphed into an expression of shock, but it was quickly replaced by anger as he shouted, “No, this is not the perfect time for a ‘facepalm’, whatever that is!”

Inke cleared her throat politely.

The dungeon fairy refocused on her, scowling. “Look, why are you here? If this is about something that she-” Cutting himself off, he took a moment to turn and fix his glare on the dungeon core. He whipped back around to face Inke and continued, “-has done, I didn’t have anything to do with it.” Crossing his arms over his chest, the fairy muttered under his breath, “I could only wish.”

Internally, Inke thought to herself that this was the most fractious relationship she’d ever seen between a dungeon and its fairy, though she didn’t say it. “Well,” she began, keeping her features neutrally schooled, “I’ve been… sent here.”

It was probably fine to share more details, she supposed. For one, it wasn’t exactly as if the dungeon or its fairy were planning to converse with every random adventurer who passed through. She couldn’t imagine that they were working with whoever had tried to kill Harin, either, except as the unwitting means.

And furthermore, they were the best source of information Inke could find on the dungeon. No one, after all, was likely to know better than the dungeon itself.

She leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “Apparently, I have to protect you. The dungeon, that is.” Fixing a critical eye on the dungeon fairy, Inke continued, “Not sure about you.”

At the dungeon fairy’s outraged face and puffed out chest, Inke waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. No, see, I do want some answers to my questions.” She shrugged, hands held out to her sides, palms up. “Largely why the boss was so much more powerful than the rest of the dungeon.”

He clicked his tongue. “Ha! I told her the final boss was a terrible idea, and what in the world is the ‘second stage’?” Sneering slightly, the fairy added, “Of course, we could have avoided all of this by simply heeding my advice.”

Filing away the ‘second stage’ comment for later perusal, Inke straightened. If she had pockets, she would have stuck her hands in them. Unfortunately, Inke’s clothes didn’t, so she simply clasped her hands behind her back. “See, I feel rather invested in this, considering that the surprise transformation almost got me and my partner killed.”

The fairy’s eyes narrowed. “Wait.” Snapping his fingers, he came to some sort of conclusion, eyes lighting up. “You’re that adventurer, the one with the sword.” He paused, listening to someone Inke couldn’t hear. “She says that you’re ‘overpowered’ and ‘game-breaking’, apparently.” Scowling, he added, “Whatever that is supposed to mean.”

Inke sighed. The dungeon fairy was quite good at getting side-tracked. “I don’t need random information; I need to know why the boss was so much more powerful.” She paused for a moment, considering. Actually, Inke realized, she didn’t even have to go through the dungeon fairy to translate when she could directly talk to the dungeon instead.

She stepped forward, intent on touching the dungeon core.

Before Inke could, the dungeon fairy flew in her face. “Wait, wait, hold up, you definitely don’t want to talk to her.” He tilted his chin up, staring down at her. “After all, why would ever need to talk to the dungeon when you could talk to me, instead?”

Brow furrowing, nonchalantly, Inke asked, “Who even are you?” She coughed. “Besides the dungeon fairy, that is.”

He gaped at her, prideful composure momentarily shaken. “Why, merely the one and only Daethe! Most skilled dungeon fairy in over three blossomings, trus-” he faltered but plowed through the momentary hesitation and continued, “dungeon fairy to the Dungeon-y Dungeon-”

Face scrunching up, he said, “I can’t even say that ridiculous name. What is it even supposed to mean? Dungeons? Dragons? That has absolutely nothing to do with the dungeon’s monsters or loot!” His hands balled into fists, shaking slightly. “I refuse to stay silent any longer.”

Inke hadn’t realized the fairy was being silent, but maybe it was relative.

Daethe’s lips pressed into a thin line. Ignoring Inke, he flew over to the dungeon core and stood next to it. His eyes narrowed as he stared down at it. “There is currently a vengeful adventurer upset because of your boss design, which would never have happened if you had simply listened to my advice and utilized my design for it. And!” He threw his arms out. “And that same adventurer is currently standing in the core room because you couldn’t be bothered to make a decent guardian.

“I pride myself on being the best. If anyone could have turned your useless mess into a proper dungeon, it would have been me, but for the sole fact that you refused to cooperate! And if you think that-”

“So,” Inke said conversationally, interrupting his tirade, “do you want me to come back some other time?”

Daethe rubbed at his forehead. “Just… alright, adventurer, let’s talk.” He marched over to Inke, still on the floor. Tapping his foot, he huffed. “What do you want? Crystal? Access to the nexus?”

Shaking her head, Inke responded, “Clarity, that’s all I need. Why is this dungeon so important and unusual?”

He threw up his arms. “Don’t even get me started.” Daethe began counting on his fingers. “Whatever her concept is, it allows her to utilize multiple other ones while creating monsters, loot, and traps.” Holding up a second finger, he added, “She refuses to follow quite literally any of my objectively useful and great advice, which is going to get us killed. Not that she believes me about rogue dungeons or Shatters.”

Inke wanted to laugh at the irony, but she managed to restrain herself.

“Third,” he said, “and I can barely believe that a dungeon so idiotic exists, despite my forced continual interaction with her, but she has, despite my continually insistent complaints, created a boss much stronger than the rest of her dungeon. Which is all very well and good when…” Sighing, Daethe trailed off. Face scrunched up as if he had eaten something sour, he reluctantly added, “It works. Plenty of adventurers die to the boss. But this? This?”

His jaw clenched. “A surprise boss at the end with unexpected strength is pretty much textbook rogue dungeon. I can guarantee that if nothing is changed, sooner or later, a Shatter will be called in, and then what?” Gesticulating wildly, he stabbed an index finger over his shoulder. Presumably, Daethe was trying to point at the dungeon core, but from Inke’s perspective, she could tell that he was wildly off. “We die! And she would deserve every single thing that she brought upon herself, but my sole and entire role in this fiasco was being ignored.”

If Inke had been called in to destroy the dungeon rather than protect it, this would have been the perfect time to reveal herself. Unfortunately, she wasn’t, ruining the opportunity. It was a tragedy, truly.

“Well, not that this hasn’t been a great conversation, really,” she said without a hint of deceit or sarcasm, “but I would like to get at least some sleep tonight. So if you don’t mind…” Inke gestured at Daethe to move out of her way. As a warning and indicator of what she wanted to do, Inke took a step forward. One or two more and Inke would crush Daethe.

It wasn’t supposed to be a threat, but he apparently took it as one. Flying up, wings flitting rapidly, Daethe squared his shoulders and hovered a few inches from Inke’s face. “If you think that I’m just going to stand here and let you shatter my dungeon core, even if she is a bit of a tesehdrat, you ought to reconsider your moronic assumptions.” He smirked. “I can assure you that it would be an extremely poor idea to challenge me.”

Inke had to work awfully hard not to let a small smile slip onto her face. Pressing her lips together, she choked out, “Oh, I’m not planning to shatter the dungeon core.” She raised her hands as a show of peace. “I just want to talk, like I’ve been saying since the start of all this.”

Daethe glared at her. “As if I would be nearly naïve enough to fall for a trick as deceptively obvious as that.”

She was going to comment that if Inke had come in search of the dungeon core for its destruction, she would have done it already, but someone else beat her to it.

Pulsing, the dungeon core released waves of black light.

Sputtering, Daethe responded to a voice Inke couldn’t hear, shouting, “No! Just- that does not make any sense, and any reasonable person would immediately dismiss your idea out of hand! Not merely due to the fact that any idea that comes from you ought to automatically be doubted, but furthermore, this is objectively a poor idea even measured solely its own considerations!”

Inke’s eyes widened. Maybe not, then. Of course, considering how vehement Daethe’s professed hatred for the dungeon core had been, there was always the possibility that his anger blinded him to reality.

Then, again, the dungeon didn’t seem to be completely rational, either.

Well, it was probably best to get the dungeon’s opinion herself. This had already taken much longer than Inke had both planned and wanted it to. Sighing, she brushed past Daethe, who startled, and laid a hand on the dungeon core.

[Oh, gosh, wow, you are just soooooo interesting, aren’t you?] It had a lilting, peppy, rather feminine voice, and Inke startled slightly. [Yeesh, what is up with that sword, though? Shame there aren’t mods here, or I’d try to get a ban for using that thing, get it balanced, whatever, y’know?] There was a cough. [I mean, ‘ban’ is sort of a strong word, but really, you’ve gotta admit that whatever it is, it’s way outleveled for my dungeon!]

Alright, maybe Daethe had a slight point about the dungeon. It was more than slightly odd, and additionally, there was quite a bit of language it used that was incomprehensible to Inke.

[Anyway, anyway, forget all that, I am just dying to know what you think of my dungeon. Look, Daethe? That guy has no sense of good design! I mean, he didn’t even appreciate my awesome dungeon name. There’s no way I can use his opinion on my stuff.] It scoffed. [No, but seriously, what’d you think? Personally, I’m super proud of the concept I picked. Physics? See, that was just inspired.]

Inke had no clue what ‘physics’ was supposed to mean, but that was one step closer to solving the mystery of the dungeon if she could identify what its concept was.

The dungeon continued babbling at Inke, [I mean, I dunno what you guys have been doing ‘round here, but just pick something encompassing! Anything straight up bigger gives you access to all the stuff beneath it. Jeez, I seriously can’t believe that not a single person here’s figured that out in what, four thousand years? Five thousand? But wait, no, tech here is terrible, so three thousand? Even so, c’mon, what’ve you been doing?]

Her mind raced at that small nugget of information the dungeon dropped. It made, oddly, more sense than Inke had originally assumed. Concepts could be heavily variable depending on an individual user’s perception of the idea. What the dungeon was suggesting was merely a further application of that knowledge.

It was a well-known fact that generally speaking, for example, Fire was superior to Flame or Burn, and so forth, as Fire offered everything that either of the other two did and more beyond that.

A tiny frown graced her face. The dungeon was correct. It was, in fact, deeply unusual that not a single other person had managed to figure that out. While the dungeon had guessed a few thousand years, Inke knew for a fact that the Virsian Empire had stood for perhaps a thousand and a half years. Its predecessor had held for but a few dozen years, but there tended to be a high turnover rate of rulers before settling into stable, long-running states.

Inke would be one of the first to admit that she wasn’t exactly renowned for her intellect. Sure, her Intelligence stat was high, but whatever it represented, it wasn’t the same thing as the ability to quickly process information, recall, good memory, or any of the other things were associated with being intelligent as compared to having high Intelligence.

Since Intelligence controlled the available Mana someone had to use, that was a good thing, or it would be a very small percentage of the population able to become strong adventurers. And Ignari would make Inke a genius, but the sword certainly didn’t.

Ignari, as if reading her thoughts, brushed against Inke’s side. Her sword gave a low hum, reminding her to focus.

Right. Inke could believe that she wouldn’t figure something like that out. For one, Inke didn’t even know the word the dungeon had used, ‘physics’, despite the fact that it apparently encompassed Fire, Light, and the odd not quite Metal of the geese. That was probably a major barrier to anyone trying to find a greater-scope concept.

Except that, no, surely, someone would have at least theorized about it. Inke’s own concept came from studying old books of what rich nobles used to do, and she’d pored over books for dozens of hours in order to discover it.

Sure, she didn’t have an amazing memory, but Inke thought she would have remembered something like the dungeon was proposing.

[…hey! Hey! Earth to sword lady, Earth to sword lady!]

Inke blinked, turning her attention back to the dungeon. Focus. Focus was critical, and Inke was terrible at it.

[Well, so, what’d you think? I have to know!]

“What’s physics?” Inke said dryly.

[Oh, right, Middle Ages. Or Dark Ages. Which one is it? I can never remember. Wait, do you people even have one of those? Eh, let’s go with medieval. Right, medieval, wouldn’t know what physics are. Or would you? Got no clue, let’s put it like that. When did physics come around? Anyway, anyway, physics is like…] Trailing off, the dungeon seemed deep in thought.

Waiting impatiently, Inke tapped her foot and glanced at Daethe, who was sulking quietly in a corner of the room.

[Look, I wasn’t a physics student- I never even took a physics course, alright?- so twenty bucks says there’s some technical definition or whatever, but I have zero clue what that might be, so you’ll just have to suck it up and live with my crappy version.] It paused. [Basically, physics is like… the universe? Spacetime, does cool sci-fi stuff, energy, matter, all that good stuff. Super neat, huh? I might not know what it precisely is, but hey, it’s not stopping me from using it!]

Taken slightly aback, Inke stared at the dungeon core. In all her time as a Shatter, she’d never run into a dungeon similar to this one. Though, that probably owed quite a bit to the fact that she was sent to rogue dungeons, who definitionally, didn’t tend to be the most stable. The Dungeon-y Dungeon of Dungeons (without Dragons), however, seemed unique even among non-rogue dungeons.

…Inke needed something better to call it than the Dungeon-y Dungeon of Dungeons (without Dragons). “What’s your name?” She hesitated. “Do you have one?”

[Ooh, yeah, I totally do! On one hand, I could go for some sort of awesome fantasy name change. Imagine being named, like, Lisbelnrow! Or Welhqpi! I mean, wouldn’t that just be cool to have a name like that? Besides, I’m not sure that my old name really fits in with the overall fantasy theme you guys’ve got going on here, y’know?]

Grumpily, Daethe cut in, “According to the dungeon, her name is Rain. However, I must cast doubt upon that, considering that she has previously told me that her name was, to name a few, Siri, Alexa, Zelda, and Gentiana.”

[Hey, hey, in my defense, those are all real names! Well, besides Gentiana, maybe, but people name their kids after flowers all the time, so it’s really not that far-fetched. Lo, behold the power of hours spent on Wikipedia!]

‘Rain’ seemed an odd enough name, but Inke wasn’t about to tell the dungeon that. Plenty of what the dungeon said was completely incomprehensible to Inke, but she only needed to get a few important pieces of information out of it. And while Inke would admit that she had been partially at fault in dragging the dungeon onto a tangent, that also owed quite a bit to the dungeon’s sheer distractibility.

“I would appreciate it if you made me a path out of here- one that doesn’t go through the main entrance- because I’d like to get some sleep tonight.”

“Hey! If you think that I am simply going to leave a passage to the dungeon core wide open for you to access at any time and bring your friends down here, you ought to seriously reconsider your world view, so I would say that I hate to break it to you, but I don’t, and-”

[Sure! Where do you need it to go?]

Inke could hear the audible sound of Daethe’s teeth grinding together. She was reasonably certain that couldn’t possibly be healthy for his teeth. “To the surface, if you don’t mind. How far do your borders reach?”

[Oh, well, that’s kinda embarrassing to admit, but not to the surface unless you count the dungeon entrance. Only up to just below the surface, y’know? I can’t create anything on the surface.

It probably wouldn’t do to insult the dungeon, but Inke was dearly tempted. “That’s fine. I only need a passage that reaches the surface, preferably somewhere uninhabited.” She tipped her head to Daethe. “If I wanted to, I could simply reenter through the guardian, anyway.”

[Plus, I’ll just close it up! No offense intended, uh, Inke, but whoof, Daethe is paranoid, and it really gets on my nerves to have to deal with him all the time. It’d suck if he had some reason to be that paranoid, like a pathway straight to me, yeah?]

“…You are, as always,” Daethe said, with a strange emphasis on ‘always’, “correct. Though it galls me to admit it, that is a solution I did not consider.” The sound of grinding teeth had stopped, but his jaw was clenched, a vein standing out on his neck.

[Great, well, if we’re all in agreement, then, I’ll get on it!] The dungeon paused, and when it resumed, it sounded almost sheepish. [Uh, not sure I can make anything with you standing right there.]

Inke froze. She would readily admit that planning ahead and anticipating weren’t strengths of hers, but that was certainly a barrier.

[Oh, if you wanted to become part of the dungeon, though-]

“Definitely not,” Inke said, deciding to nip that possible train of thought from the dungeon in the bud.

“I swear by the hadstri elderflowers, not a single person here ever stops to consider that my advice may actually be useful or valuable!” Daethe’s voice rang out, cutting into their conversation. He narrowed his eyes at them, swinging his head from Inke to the dungeon core and crossing his arms. In the monotone of someone quoting something, he said, “As found in Dicentra’s Directory of Dungeon Details in Desuetude, ‘if the core room should be besieged by enemies, a sole measure of recourse remains to the noble dungeon fairy and their core, that within the conditions proper, a passageway to remaining areas and defenders of the dungeon unvanquished may be opened.’ Almost no one uses it because a few reasons, foremost of which is that monsters in other parts of the dungeon wouldn’t be able to reach the core before anyone inside the core room could destroy it.

“Really, there is a reason that it fell into desuetude, after all. In a case such as this one, however, Rain could simply open a passage to the surface.”

[You sure about that? It sounds like a weird, convenient workaround to this specific problem.]

“Actually, quite a few of the so-called ‘rules’ of dungeons have exceptions, but for the fact that they tend to be useless exceptions. I, however, in my wisdom decided to study up upon them. And observe the benefits.” He smirked. “If you would listen to me, you might, in fact, know some of these things.” Tapping a finger on his chin, Daethe said, “Although taking into account your general ineptitude, even that, possibly not.”

[Yeah, okay, I can’t just let that stand!] With a polite mental cough, the dungeon remembered Inke standing there and added, [Uh, I’ll get on that passageway. Absorb.]

Smoothly, a portion of the wall opposite Inke, behind the dungeon core, vanished as if it were never there without a sound. A long passageway lit by the same strange glow that filled the dungeon stretched onwards. It sloped gently upwards.

[This’ll take you as far as the dungeon extends; I tried to make it long because you said you wanted to be discreet. I, uh, not sure what’s on the other end, though. Once you’re out, I’ll fill it back up, so try not to drop anything!]

Daethe cleared his throat. “It is, in fact, customary to leave the dungeon a gift should it do you a favor. I feel that ought to be mentioned.”

[Oh, shove a sock in it, Daethe! I’m trying to be nice, here!]

Inke huffed a short laugh. “I would, except I doubt that you have nearly enough Experience to recreate anything I have on me without dying or having to Absorb most of what you’ve created.”

Whipping around to stare at Inke, Daethe’s expression was shocked, eyes wide. Of course, it would be the dungeon fairy to understand the implications of that. Rain, however, seemed entirely unaware.

It was probably best to leave before Daethe got it into his head to try and steal Inke’s stuff or something. With a wave, she removed her hand from Rain’s and walked around it into the passageway. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of Daethe breaking into a loud argument with the dungeon.

With how long and boring the walk was, it relieved Inke to see the opening at the end growing closer. She sped up slightly, hoping to get at least six hours of sleep that night. At the end of the hallway, a straight stone face stretched up into an opening in the ceiling. Upon closer inspection, though, Inke noticed the stone rungs carved into the wall. A sort of ladder, then.

She worked her way up the latter, clambering out when she reached the top. As Inke did so, the stone sealed up behind her, perfectly smooth. Looking around, Inke took in the crates lining the stone walls and the sound of skittering rats.

Of course, Inke had ended up in someone’s basement. Things tended to go that way for her.

“That’s a good idea, I think,” Harin commented. Frowning, he gazed off into the distance. “You would know better than me, after all.”

Inke shrugged. His unwavering faith in her ability and general competence was odd, but she didn’t see a point in questioning it. “You have your daggers.”

Harin’s eyes flicked away from Inke’s “Y-yeah… I still feel like I need at least armor, right?”

For someone as weak as Harin, with his low stats and terrible class, weapons wouldn’t do him much good. The most efficient way to kill most monsters was through magic, or failing that, with magically enhanced stats and effects, such as the kind that Soar granted Inke. As a result, barring a prohibitively expensive purchase, Harin was right.

Armor never hurt.

Precluding, of course, chafing metal armor that did hurt when worn for extended periods of time.

She looked up and down his figure with a critical eye. While Harin didn’t have the strength necessary to wear any sort of metal armor, some sort of protective gear would hardly go amiss. An enchanted necklace or ring, possibly. Something that he could both hide and wear constantly, two factors that were always useful when it came to possible assassinations.

Lighter forms of armor such as leather existed, but Inke doubted that Harin would want to be always wearing the armor, unlike something small.

Yes, that would be best.

“What kind of protective items are sold around here?” Inke asked. Larger cities had just about anything a low-level adventurer could ask for. However, in a dungeon city as small as the one around the Dungeon-y Dungeon of Dungeons (without Dragons) was, there was no such guarantee.

Plenty of low-level adventurers needed to get their starts in burgeoning dungeons, creating a high demand for such items, but simultaneously, it meant that merchants enjoyed no shortage of willing buyers. With trade almost fully controlled by the Merchant Guild, it increased the motivation for them to restrict the available goods and drive up prices.

Suddenly, Inke realized that she had accidentally ignored Harin. He finished out a sentence, “…and I can’t exactly get rid of the auctions, no matter how terrible the system is to deal with.”

Shocked, she fixed him directly in the eye and clapped her hands on his shoulders. The position was slightly odd, but despite Harin’s towering frame, he tended to hunch his shoulders and slouch, which put them slightly closer together in height. “You let the Auctioneer Guild in.” It wasn’t a question.

“A-are they that bad?”

Intellectually, Inke knew that Harin didn’t quite have the same experience with them that she did. On an emotional level, however, it deeply irritated her to realize that Harin’s first reaction to being faced with the Auctioneer Guild wasn’t to pull out his hair in frustration.

Waving a hand, Inke responded, “They’re like cockroaches, impossible to get rid of, tough exteriors that can’t be squished easily, and extremely annoying. Just about the only thing that they’re good for is selling or buying more unique or hard-to-find items.” She squinted. “That, unfortunately, is not what we need for you.”

Harin held up his hands, shaking his head slightly. “Wait, b-back up slightly, I thought we were talking about armor? And why is the Auctioneer Guild so bad, anyway?”

She shrugged. “Mostly the people. It takes a rather specific kind of person to work as an auctioneer.” With a grimace, Inke continued. “They’re not bad people, per se, but trust me here, you don’t want to spend much time in their company.” In the past, Inke had been subjected to the unfortunate experience, and she still regretted agreeing to it at the time.

The benefits of hindsight.

“Okay, I g-guess that makes sense, but can we back up to the armor?” Harin wrung his hands nervously. “I was thinking armor because defense; I’d prefer not to d-die, all of that stuff.”

With a sigh, Inke set about explaining the reasoning behind why she thought he should get enchanted gear of some sort as opposed to traditional armor. The condensed version, of course. Lately, Inke had been spending far too much time around incredibly verbose people. She’d appreciate a return to normality.

Long, internal monologues were one thing. Loud, verbal ones were another beast entirely.

Inke considered that if she wanted to avoid those, she should probably ditch Harin. Except for the fact that she still needed his help, so that seemed a remarkably poor idea.

Harin coughed. “Ah, pretty much anything enhanced through use of Mana or Crystals is only being sold by the auctioneers, which is why I was only planning to get normal armor.” He gestured at the marketplace around the duo. Plenty of activity filled it, loud chatter constantly present in the air.

Fixing him with a questioning stare, Inke said, “Why? The Merchant Guild would never agree to such a policy, especially in a fast-growing city such as this. There’s fantastic prospects here for anyone who manages to set themselves up in the market early on.”

He mumbled something under his breath.

Inke blinked. “I didn’t catch that, thanks.”

“I k-kinda signed a thing, alright?” Harin’s face flushed, and he gesticulated wildly even as he continued speaking rapidly, “I didn’t know precisely what I was agreeing to, and legalese is just as terrible here as o-anywhere e-else, but the Auctioneer Guild has the rights to selling most atypical items in the city.”

She raised an eyebrow. “How long is it for? Are they giving you anything?”

“A s-slight tax on each sale, I think, but it’s indefinite.”

The other eyebrow went up and joined its counterpart. “The tax will add up, but indefinite?”

Harin scratched at his neck. “A-aha, well, see, technically speaking, I need the Council to agree with me on major policy decisions, a-and they agreed to it, but I don’t think they would reverse it.”

Whatever mystery was going on stretched deeply, then, if people tricked Harin into signing vague agreements he didn’t understand. Clearly, Inke needed to do some serious investigating. And while at least Harin was receiving something from the Auctioneer Guild, Inke didn’t know how much that was. She asked as much.

“W-well, I haven’t actually gotten anything from them yet, s-so…”

Inke sighed. “Here is what we are going to do,” she told him with a flat look on her face. “First, we’re going to buy you some stuff at the auction.” Mentally, she added that the auction would be a great place to perform some investigations. “Then, I’m going to restock on potions. Finally, we go to the local branch of the Auctioneer Guild and figure out where your money’s been going. Understand?”

She didn’t wait for a response and immediately continued, “Great. Let’s go.”