It started with a trickle building to a veritable flood as Ebert cackled madly, watching his gold rise ever higher. Yes!! The day of the tavern opening was here, and half the damn town had flooded into the dungeon. Apparently between Max and the orphans, the townsfolk at least considered this part of the dungeon to be safe enough to get drunk in.

  The tavern was teeming with an utterly festive atmosphere. Max was smiling ear to ear as he hobbled as fast as he could back and forth all up and down the bar serving drinks. The kids were gliding through the crowds like the specter of death itself, delivering food and drink for Max and occasionally engaging in some brilliantly executed pickpocketing.

  But what Egbert was focused on wasn’t the revelry, although he did keep peeking at the porch to see which day-drunk patron fell into the whirlpool first. No, he was looking at the neat lines of adventurers that were queued to pay for an armband declaring their allegiance in the upcoming bug war. Yes, that’s right, give in to the pointless tribalism that drives you to spend inordinate amounts of coins to make sure YOUR side is the victor.

  So far Bubba's side seemed to be slightly more popular, but the folks that were signing up for Twitch's side were freaking scary. A lot of long cloaks and hooked daggers. Egbert was pretty sure they were planning to commit bug genocide in the tight quarters of Twitch's slum town. Surprisingly, Resh had signed up with Bubba, as had Orlock, but that one was a lot less of a surprise. Lily had signed on to aid the defense of the shanty town, so at least that should help their side with the fact that Bubba was a monster now who could probably win against half the damned adventurers here.

  Another adventurer put in their gold coin to pick a side.

  [Copper 2] [Silver 5] [Gold 38]

  MMMM yes, that’s right, spend gold to join the contest that costs gold to win. Or if other bitter observers spend gold to activate traps, you get to spend gold to survive. And all that isn’t even taking into account the disgustingly fair twenty-five percent I am taking from the betting pool. Egbert preened internally at himself for a moment, considering buying some more spectral popcorn as a reward for his fiscal brilliance.

  He restrained himself for the moment and instead checked on some of his usual visitors. There was a mass of new adventurers, but the seamstresses, the knights, and even the yokels were all here. The knights and seamstresses would be aiding in the defense of Bubba’s side. Of course the yokels had gone with the team drug den.

  And then there was Thrognar…he was happy as could be, half drunk, wandering around with a fucking eldritch abomination disguised as a puppy under his arm. That’s right! I need to talk to him real quick… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I still think Thrognar is the one I trust the most to be my first employee! In the sense that he wouldn’t try to sell the shiny marble that acts as my soul… in most other regards, I'm pretty sure anything cute enough could manipulate him into manslaughter.

  Egbert skipped the tact part of a job interview somehow; he thought it might be lost on Thrognar. “Hey! Big, green, and happy, come over here!” Egbert hissed across the bar. A goblin adventurer pointed at themselves in surprise. “Dammit, no, I said big!” The goblins' faces dropped, and they skittered back towards their drink. Thrognar hadn’t even noticed he was busy amusing himself by triggering a trap out on the battlefield and practically giggling at the resulting distant explosion.

  I can’t even be mad the simpleton is ignoring me to give me money…

  “Thrognar! The puppy needs its treats!” Egbert's shout hissed throughout the tavern. That finally got the big bastard to turn and look his way, a sheepish grin on his face, and he patted the puppy like he was sorry and thudded through the crowd. It amused Egbert to no end how even as drunk as the partygoers were, they parted like a zipper before Thrognar and the eldritch menace.

  Several of the partygoers had noticed something…off about the “puppy.” A few with advanced identity skills had examined it and promptly stayed the hell away. A few others had just looked for too long and had gotten a very un-puppy-like stare in return. Thrognar, of course, just preened about how smart the puppy was whenever it did something a puppy really shouldn’t be able to do.

  Thrognar walked up to Egbert’s rock and held out his hand expectantly. “Treat?”

  Max sighed seeing what was happening and tossed Thrognar a piece of jerky. Egbert grabbed his attention quickly before the big lug could get distracted by explosions again. “Thrognar, you like the dungeon, right? You would say we are friends?”

  Thrognar’s sudden smile was so genuine and infectious. Egbert felt even his own cold little core warm a little. “Yes, Dungeon gives Thrognar new friends and levels!” Thrognar said earnestly.

  Hmm, what’s the best way to phrase this for him to understand… Ahh well, he has been doing work for the adventurers guild. Ahh, I’ve got it, duh, Egbert. That’s a simple solution. “I want to offer you a quest, Thrognar!”

  Thrognar's eyes lit up like Egbert had just offered him the most valuable of treasures. He nodded so violently the puppy flailed for a moment, thinking it was under attack, before staring daggers at the pet rock and settling back into Thrognar’s arms defensively. Its eyes are always darting around looking for stray loot bugs.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Well, I need a…guard…sort of…adventurers are supposed to stay on their own side of the battlefield and fight the bugs, not each other… Can you…kick out the ones who don’t follow the rules?”

  Thrognar nodded slowly and contemplatively, really chewing on the ‘complexity’ of the request. “Thrognar like Dungeon referee?”

  “I don’t know how you know what that is, but yes! Thrognar like dungeon referee!” Egbert answered happily.

  “Thrognar likes smash ball games!” He said and then just lumbered away with a toothy smile. “Thrognar in charge now… Thrognar need red cards… and blue cards…maybe orange for if people really naughty.” That will probably be fine.

  Gregorian chanting started intensely wafting through the tavern suddenly, and Max looked at a trio of Choral Loot bugs who had just alighted on top of one of his casks in annoyance. “Dammit, Git! Git! I’ve been over this; no bugs in the bar!” Max grabbed a broom from behind his bar and lunged after them.

  What followed was an astounding flurry of sweeping broom strikes enhanced by skills screaming through the air. The loot bugs dodged nearly as often as they were hit, and they didn’t take it lying down. They divebombed Max wrathfully for daring to interrupt their singing, catching him square in the face and leaving him with a bloody nose and more than a little bit pissed.

  “Oh, are you going to act like actual dungeon monsters now? Then I guess I’ll have to deal with you like an actual monster.” Max sputtered angrily before wiping some blood from his nose and drawing his long sword. The bar goers started edging away from the rapidly escalating scuffle and exchanging quick bets.

  The choral loot bugs took one look at the sword and hissed angrily before departing with a woosh, flying outside to continue their singing above the whirlpool. “That’s what I thought!” Max shouted after them in vindication. “Now who the fuck need a drink!?”

  Egbert left him to it and went to get this party started; the adventurers had chosen sides. The massive scrying screen that displayed the battlefield was turned on and covered half the length of the balcony. And most importantly, bets had been placed, and an awful lot of people were perched next to the trap triggers on the balcony.

  Egbert was proud of that addition. He had placed four square stone pillars, each linked to a different quadrant of the battlefield. The pillar had an array of buttons on the top and a coin slot dead center. The way it worked was simple: put in coins, try and have good timing, and trigger a corresponding trap on the battlefield.

  A few of them cost an awful lot more than the others. Namely the Barrel of Fun that cost Egbert every time it was used, and he was a bit concerned it might be a bit too chaotic even by his standards, and…the “Boulder.” But that one had a little knob that let you decide which team to stick it on too.

  Max carried Egbert's talking rock out onto the balcony to get the motley collection of heathens acquainted with the rules. The chatter slowly died down as he clambered up onto one of the questionably sturdy tables, nearly falling off into the fucking whirlpool as his prosthetic decided to shift just a little too much. Safety rails, man, safety rails.

  Egbert cleared his throat loudly, although it came out more like the growl of a demon from the pet rock. “Alright! For everyone who doesn’t already know. Somehow… I’m greed, and this is my dungeon!” There were a couple drunken scattered applauses. Why Max, it's like noon. How drunk have you already gotten these people? I need to start selling liver healing treatments here. Focus, Egbert, rules, and such!

  Egbert continued, “So everyone has picked a side that wants to?” He paused for a second, and no one rushed to give him more money, so he continued.

  “You defend the side you picked! No attacking other adventurers or changing the opposite castle. Well, I mean, you can try, but Thrognar will intervene, and I'll help him.” There were some scattered nervous chuckles. Egbert obviously just derailed a few plans.

  “If your side’s treasure is stolen or leader is slain, you lose! Everyone on the winning side gets a reward...if someone dies...well, that sucks, but welcome to the dungeon. There are healing potions for sale at the battleground entrance. I don’t have a dedicated healer yet! Questions?” Egbert finished and waited for a slew of questions.

  The goblin from earlier piped up, “Why does Thrognar get to be the freaking arbiter of justice?”

  “Because I like him more than you. Next question?” Egbert said blithely.

  Jeb drawled from where he was dangling a fishing rod into the water, “Will our glorious patron be watching the battle?” Egbert looked at the “Puppy”; it had somehow escaped Thrognar’s snuggles and was perched inches from Jeb, staring into the whirlpool ominously.

  “Unfortunately, probably,” Egbert groused. “Anyone with an actual rules question?”

  Randy of all people raised his hand over at the table the knights had stuffed themselves around. “Yes, Mr. Flaming Sword of Destiny?” Egbert said with a chuckle.

  The comment threw Randy a little, but he forged ahead. “You haven’t said what the rewards actually are, greed.”

  “No, I haven’t! But everyone likes a surprise. Don’t worry, it will have a…substantial monetary value. Now since no one has a single actually relevant question! Get out on that battlefield and fight for your faction!”

  Folks started filtering out towards the battlefield a bit more sedately. More unsteadily than Egbert would have liked. As the actual combatants began manning their respective castles, handfuls of betters hovered around the trap triggers like their lives depended on it, coins clutched at the ready. Ahh, it warms my heart to see everyone so eager. Coins poised for deposit and a glimmer of avarice in every eye.

  You know, now would be a wonderful time to check my status. Let's see how far I've come in this, if I do say so myself, rather short amount of time. Egbert pulled up his status sheet. What is this bullshit…

  [Greed]

  [Threat: Confusing But Manageable]

  [Wealth: Small Business Owner]

  [Influence: Local Commerce Focal Point]

  [Store Progress] [Halted]

  *Under full revision due to complaints and seemingly arbitrary revisions to categories and items contained within. [[System note]] Greed has been advancing at a rate that is far in excess of projected metrics. Odds of spiraling consequences to global stability: Very High.

  [Gold Spent 36] [Milestones 1]

  [Next Milestone: 36/100 Gold]

  [Notable Features]

  [Abnormally Hostile Loot Items]

  [Active War With Ulfric’s Academy]

  [35 Percent Chance Of Sterilization Via Blunt Force Trauma]

  [Kills 37]

  Horde: [Copper 2] [Silver 9] [Gold 42]

  Oh…oh no… contempt… Uhh, where have you been, buddy… You didn’t go off and kill thirty-five freaking mages, did you… That would be insane… Man, I am so screwed…