Dungeon of Knowledge

Economics – to oversimplify drastically – is nothing more than the balance of supply and demand made liquid by the application of currency.

Dungeons, by their very nature, break this.

I am well aware of how the Silver Cog Trading Company has wrought its substantial successes due to the timely and skillful locking-down of important dungeon trading contracts, but objectively, dungeons are a disaster for a stable economy. At the core of the problem is the dungeon respawn. Every few hours – or days, depending on the dungeon – most dungeons respawn their monsters, along with all their harvestable monster parts, weapons, armor, or whatever. This creates a potentially infinite supply problem that can drive the value of important items and resources to zero.

When a new dungeon appears, spawning an easy boss with a desirable bronze-ranked sword, not only does the value of that specific sword plummet, but the value of all swords of similar rank and purpose will crater because cash-strapped adventurers will purchase the vastly cheaper one even if it isn’t exactly ideal.

Consider, for a moment, the problem of coins. Most item dungeons learn to create coins – presumably from consuming the many corpses of adventurers, delvers, and opportunists that die in their caves or hallways. Easy bosses that spawn with coins become rapidly sought after, sparking a gold rush that can crater an entire kingdom’s currency.

It is fortunate for us that such a rush on a dungeon typically causes it to be wiped out immediately or forces the dungeon into such a rapid growth cycle that the risk grows to overshadow the value of a few coins.

The problem of coins is far trickier than most would believe. I draw your attention to the fate of the Marakian Kingdom which, just a few centuries ago, pioneered the idea of imbuing their coins with mana signatures, making them impossible to duplicate or respawn exactly. The kingdom, as you may recall, collapsed when their neighbors assassinated the head of their government’s mint and his mana signature vanished overnight, taking out half the kingdom’s currency in a single blow.

Besides, even if a dungeon cannot copy a mana signature, the coins still have significant value as gold, platinum, or electrum.

- Internal Manual on Dungeon Economics by Bixi Bargainhunter, Silver Cog Trading Co.

 

Aliandra

 

It was one of those bright and clear mornings with not a single cloud in the sky. The breeze carried the crisp cool scent of freshness, blowing away the usual odors of the town. Ali stepped down onto the street in front of the Adventurers Guild and gazed about, taking in the sparse early morning traffic. Stretched across the sky, her sensitive mana-sight picked out the almost invisible tendrils of mana forming the vast formation that must have been the spatial suppression spell blanketing the town. It was a curious magic, reminding Ali of the old eccentric mage that had teleported her to Volle, but she didn’t have the time to study it further.

 

“Ok, I’m off,” Vivian announced abruptly. “Wait a few minutes and then come to the Town Hall.”

 

Ali nodded. Their entrance would be a carefully orchestrated play, directed by Lira, and every part of it had been considered for maximum impact, value, or strategy. Ali had not even followed half of the subtle interplay, but Mieriel, Ryn, and Lira had agonized over every detail.

 

As Vivian disappeared down the street, Ali opened her Grimoire and began to summon her monsters. All her friends were already there, but she would not be going alone. Lira stood beside her looking serene, of course, emanating a soft, peaceful aura of nature magic. Malika and Calen looked exactly as nervous as she felt in their brand-new, exquisitely tailored suits. At first, Malika had strenuously objected to ‘dressing like a noble’ and seemed quite uncomfortable in such expensive clothing, but Lira insisted, claiming it was the proper ‘armor’ for this kind of battle. Calen’s squirming and tugging at his collar earned him a severe glance from the Dryad.

 

She made two Forest Guardians to round out her small retinue of minions. They appeared, taking up a huge amount of space in the street, shifting restlessly as if reflecting her mood. Besides the two giant elementals, she had made a single Kobold Acolyte and Fire Mage. Both had been dressed by Lydia too, sparing no detail on their entrance, and it was a good thing too – Ali would need every ounce of enhanced intelligence she could eke out of her Empowered Summoner buff for the trial itself.

 

I hope the Guardians fit through the door. The Town Hall doorway was wide, but she had forgotten to check if it was wide enough. The Guardians would certainly be able to enter but reducing the building to rubble and ruin was not quite the entrance she needed.

 

“I’m ready.” It was a simple statement of fact, but it had the significance of a large boulder placed in precarious balance at the top of a cliff. What was to come was an avalanche, and it was uncertain if the events set in motion would crush her into dust or carry her on to safety.

 

“Let’s get this started, then,” Malika said, turning angrily and stalking down the street toward the Town Hall, the tension held in her body broadcasting just how upset she still was.

 

I’m sorry, Malika, Ali thought. She had tried every way she could think of to explain or apologize to her, but she would not hear it. Still, she refused to abandon Ali to face this alone, clinging to her trite ‘we’ll do it together’ like it was the bedrock of her soul. Ali stared sadly at Malika’s back, but she felt a comforting hand reaching down to grab hers.

 

“She will understand, give her time,” Lira said, her voice soft and gentle. But Ali was not so confident, and she worried about her friend the whole way.

 

When they reached the Town Hall, Malika pushed the doors wide and entered with Calen. Ali directed her Forest Guardians to follow, one at a time, and to her relief, they made it through, leaving just minor scrape marks on the protruding steel hinges. She had them fan out into a flanking formation behind Malika and Calen before she floated through, sitting cross-legged upon her barrier, with her two Kobolds walking along behind like retainers. Lira had even purchased an impressive-looking gnarled staff for the mage and censer styled like a dragon’s head for the Acolyte at Weldin’s store, details that Ali wouldn’t even have considered.

 

We look like a funeral procession, she thought, hoping fervently that it would not be her funeral.

 

The reaction to their entrance was a stunned silence – the kind of shock that caught the breath in surprise. Her enormous Guardians kept pace with her barrier, their slow, heavy steps shaking the foundations of the Town Hall. A quiet undercurrent of whispers rippled through the crowd of spectators arranged around the central dais. There were rows of important or curious townsfolk and Ali recognized quite a few of them – Eliyen and Basil to the one side, Lydia dressed in a beautiful creation, and Mato’s parents were clearly visible by the sheer bulk of his father. Off near the back, she caught the gruff countenance of Thuli, sitting beside a hooded figure she knew was Kavé. Quite a few of the novice adventurers were also present.

 

Spectators for the main event. No, supporters – I hope.

 

Vivian had made sure that the trial was open to the public, and although she felt the weight of all those eyes upon her, Lira had insisted this would be better for their case. Winning over the public sentiment would not directly change the vote, but some of the council members cared about the opinion of the townsfolk and would be influenced. But Ali had her doubts – for one thing, she was the terror of a dungeon, manifest in the flesh before them – and for another, she was about to make a deal with the crime boss who oppressed the town.

 

In the center of the room, the richly dressed, impressive group of council members occupied seven of the eight seats upon the raised dais, presumably so they could look down upon the accused. Lira had spent an incredible amount of energy impressing on her the importance of a strong entrance, and how setting the tone by how she arrived would help her argue her case as an equal rather than a supplicant at the mercy of the council’s whims. Every detail had been planned out, including just how high Ali sat upon her barrier so that even with her smaller stature, she was the one looking slightly down on them. The Guardians had nothing to do with her safety, they had been selected to convey solid weight and size.

 

Ali’s attention was drawn to the tall, opulently dressed man rising to his feet at the center of the dais, his face flushed red with anger. With a dark scowl, he thrust a finger at her in accusation.

 

Here it comes.

 

“What is the meaning of this!” he shouted. Even though she expected it, her heart pounded in her throat at the sheer aggression he leveled at her. Her mind conjured images of Roderik’s violence, and more than anything she wanted to run and hide behind her Guardians, but she forced herself to face him as outwardly calm as she could manage. It was only then that she suddenly appreciated the wisdom of Lira who had insisted on makeup – she could tell her face had blanched, but nobody would ever see it.

 

Bastian Asterford. She easily identified the crown executor by his extremely expensive crimson robes and the descriptions she had been given. Their analysis predicted he would vote against her.

 

“Since when are criminals allowed to bring monsters before the council?” This voice was sharp and cutting – and oozed with power and control.

 

Ali turned her attention to the new speaker, a stocky man with a powerful-looking frame, dressed in an exquisitely tailored suit. He stared flatly at her with hard eyes, clearly a man used to people jumping when he spoke.

 

Jax Hawkhurst. Council member of Myrin’s Keep, and the owner of the highly successful Hawkhurst Trading Company, both positions serving to cover his illicit smuggling, thievery, and extortion rackets. Behind his harsh façade, Ali could detect nothing about his inner thoughts, other than an instinctive sense that this man was cunning.

 

The person most likely responsible for orchestrating the Town Watch raid on me. He was also the person whose vote she needed to buy, over Malika’s vehement objections. And Mieriel’s sure he’s the one responsible for putting out the hit on us. Again, she felt the knot twisting in her gut at the wrongness of courting this man for his vote.

 

“Brand, get her in chains already,” Jax continued with a sneer that seemed to be honed to the status of a deadly political weapon.

 

Ali said nothing. She simply sat, trying to control the roiling emotions within. If she hadn’t known what to expect, she would probably have been just as shocked as the rest of the room.

 

Nature-affinity mana crested like a tidal wave behind her.

 

“Watch out!” the Gnomish council member yelled, levitating herself behind an arcing shield of lightning magic.

 

Donella Novaspark.

 

Vines writhed their way through the open doorway, the windows, and even the stone floor, cracking and buckling it in the process. A soft breeze blew through the hall, bringing with it a rapidly expanding carpet of moss and delicate wildflowers, and as the mana crashed through the room, nature wisps spontaneously materialized, darting back and forth on the heavy currents of mana.

 

Lira. Despite expecting something spectacular, Ali was awed at the power of the Dryad’s magic – now restored by the forest she had made. By the startled looks from the crowd, so were most of the spectators – including the wide-eyed Gnome mage hiding behind her potent magic. She forgot sometimes that her aunt was an ancient magical being of extraordinary power. Ali waited, enjoying the way the shocked shouts faded to total silence as Lira approached, striding elegantly and unhurriedly along her mossy carpet to join Ali before the dais.

 

Many among the spectators – Elves, Druids, and other nature magic users – rose to their feet, bowed, or made signs of respect.

 

That’s my cue.

 

In the silence created by Lira’s magnificent entrance, Ali raised her voice and addressed the council.

 

“There appears to have been a misunderstanding. I do not come to throw myself upon the dubious mercy of a council that seems to have already decided my guilt,” she declared. As the council collected themselves, Ali took a deep breath to settle her nerves.

 

The silence that greeted her statement oozed hostility.

 

“My name is Aliandra Amariel. I am the dungeon that lives under Myrin’s Keep and I come with a proposal for peaceful coexistence.” Lira had insisted on leading with confidence. Arguing about her class was not going to help her case. By putting it out there at the start, she would circumvent many arguments.

 

“Why are you here? Myrin’s Keep has stood here for a hundred years. It’s our town – you’re an interloper and not welcome,” Bastian declared. He was still standing, but much of his bluster and anger had evaporated at Lira’s entrance.

 

“I was born three thousand two hundred and eighty-seven years ago in the city of Dal’mohra, the ruins of which now lie below Myrin’s Keep. I have remained here all those years, so I think you’ll find that it is you all who are the interlopers in my home.” Most of those years had been spent locked away behind her mother’s legendary Time Stasis spell, but Ali didn’t feel he needed to know that.

 

“That’s preposterous,” Bastian scoffed.

 

“I have the results of her Advanced Identify on record in the Adventurers Guild,” Vivian said calmly from her seat. “Her age, at least, is accurate. So is that Title she bears.”

 

Ali had expected them to derail on Lira’s presence, but it seemed Bastian was more interested in sparring with Vivian.

 

“That’s not proof of anything,” Bastian declared. “She’s claiming the legendary city is below our feet, has anyone seen it?”

 

“I have,” Calen answered. Beside him, Malika nodded her agreement but chose not to speak.

 

“Anyone who is not accused.”

 

“I have been in the Grand Library Arcana.” Ali’s heart jumped to hear the sound of Ryn’s voice raised in her defense from the back of the audience. “My class is proof of that.”

 

Bastian just stared her down in frustration, and Ali took the opportunity to direct the flow of conversation, just as Lira had coached her.

 

“Before we get to the business of the Town Watch’s unprovoked attack on me, my friends, and the Adventurers Guild, I have something far more urgent for the council’s consideration.” Ali summoned the seven copies of Calen’s report onto seven small disks of her barrier magic. She had practiced for a long time to perfect splitting her focus so many ways, and it was only with the enhancement to her arcane control from Arcane Recall and the intelligence boost she was getting from Empowered Summoner that she had been able to pull it off while still sitting on her barrier seat.

 

Each disk floated smoothly across the dais, depositing a copy in front of each council member.

 

“What is this?” Bastian asked, not moving to touch it, but he was immediately interrupted.

 

“Is there any proof of this?” The new voice sounded stern and crisp as he tapped the report.

 

Gerald Brand, Commander of the Garrison. Ali identified him by his iron-gray hair and piercing blue eyes.

 

“I am the proof,” Lira answered, her voice resonating more than usual, seeming to hang indefinitely in the air, still running rich with her mana. “My name is Lirasia. The forest that was my home for the last three thousand years, the Lirasian Forest, is no more, undone by the blight of the Necromancer, Alexander Gray. It was utterly destroyed.”

 

At her words, Gerald Brand’s aide left the room at a sprint, carrying the report.

 

“You’re not taking this nonsense seriously, Brand?” The voice was gravelly and strong.

 

Hadrik Goldbeard. He was the only dwarf on the council. His hair and beard were an uncommon blond and were worn in thick braids that were festooned with heavy, ornate gold jewelry.

 

“That group warned us of the Goblin siege. Yes, I am taking their report seriously,” the commander answered. “Besides, that is a three-mark Dryad bearing the title: Grand Mother of the Deep Woods. There can be no question she is the one from the legends.”

 

So Mieriel was right. The commander had remembered them, and more importantly, credited them with providing crucial information in support of the town’s defense – and Lira’s presence had lent an enormous weight of credibility.

 

“The second matter of business for this council is related to the first,” Ali announced, pitching her voice to carry as best it could. Commander Brand had accepted the report as worth consideration, which was her purpose. She just hoped it was enough to sway his vote in their favor as Mieriel had predicted.

 

“With a Necromancer closing in on town, many outlying farms have been destroyed, and I’ve been informed that the town is struggling to find food. I want to offer the magic of my domain to feed the town while the Garrison Commander defends us.” This was her bid for the second vote, and she studied the mayor carefully – but, by using the eyes of her Acolyte, so that she didn’t give away her interest.

 

“Can you really feed everyone?” William Turner asked. He seemed rather tense, and by the gasps and murmurs from the audience, it seemed that the food shortage was more desperate than she had imagined.

 

“Lirasia has agreed to share her magic, and with the help of a few of the town’s farmers and nature mages, it should not be a problem,” Ali confirmed, happy that she had caught his attention.

 

“Was it you that advanced the Elder Tree yesterday?”

 

Ali’s eyes caught the piercing gaze of the Gnomish mage. Donella, it seemed, was intensely curious about magic. “It was Lirasia,” Ali confirmed, filing the tidbit of information about her away just in case it might prove useful.

 

The room erupted into a chaotic explosion of conversations as the news and the proposal were processed. Ali simply waited for it to calm down sufficiently.

 

“For our final business, my friends are on trial for self-defense against the Town Watch, but I am a dungeon, and I ask that the council vote to explicitly recognize me as a person.” This was the most crucial moment. If she had done her job well, Vivian would bring her proposal before the council formally, and one of the other council members would second it, forcing the vote to be on her personhood, rather than on whether to cull a dungeon.

 

“You want us to recognize a dungeon as a person? So that you can have legal protection? Nobody will support that nonsense,” Bastian scoffed.

 

Ali saw Vivian sit forward out of the corner of her eye, but surprisingly, it was not her voice that she heard first.

 

“I will put the motion on the table.” It was Commander Brand’s voice.

 

We got one.

 

“Very well, who will second it?” William Turner asked, sounding unsurprised. The excitement of securing Gerald Brand’s vote was quenched by William’s response. Ali had been hoping that her proposal for feeding the town would sway him to their side, but if it had worked, he wouldn’t have called for a second, he would have done it himself.

 

“I second the motion,” Vivian called out, after waiting long enough for William to do it if he wanted to.

 

One of two, she realized, racking her brain to figure out what else she could do to convince the mayor.

 

“If we’re proposing motions, I propose we elevate Kieran Mori to take Roderik Icecrown’s seat, and I propose we do it before we vote so that we can vote with a full council.” Jax’s cold voice interrupted Ali’s thoughts, and she snapped her head around, finding his hard eyes boring into her.

 

“Absolutely not! I object!” William Turner shouted. “You will not stack the council with your Town Watch lackey.”

 

“The Town Watch are the heroes here; they bravely confronted the dungeon at the cost of many of their lives. Yet you insist on hearing this dungeon speak. This is a travesty,” Jax answered, raising his voice.

 

“Your so-called heroes tried to kill my son!” William yelled, on his feet in an instant, glaring down at Jax, amid the gasps and exclamations from the crowd. “As mayor, I will cast Roderik’s vote in this matter.”

 

Ali stared dumbfounded as the heated argument erupted. She had of course been there to see Aiden and Havok being beaten up, and she understood William Turner’s rage. But she had no idea they could use the empty seat to vote.

 

“Silence. You’re both out of line,” Bastian’s voice cut through the boiling anger with a calm authority. “I am the executor of the crown. I veto Mori on account of the fact that he has no noble blood. The crown will not stand for that. In the matter of the crown’s interests, I outrank you, William. I will cast Roderik’s vote until we find a legal replacement.”

 

Oh, fuck. Ali watched helplessly as all their careful planning came down in tatters. Bastian Asterford was definitely not going to vote for her – she had killed Roderik. And Roderik was a noble, just like Bastian. With him wielding two votes and the tiebreaker, she could not win, even if she somehow swayed William Turner and managed to buy Jax’s vote.

 

What can I do? Ali wasn’t even certain she could buy Jax’s vote. Based on the outburst she had just witnessed, they had critically misjudged him as motivated by personal wealth; he seemed to care far more about influence and power. In fact, if he had any interest in wealth, he would have most likely been more amenable to her case from the start, but instead, he had been hostile at every step.

 

“I thank you for your scouting report, and your proposal of food, but none of it is necessary. Gerald Brand will defend the town, and we will simply teleport in supplies from Southport to feed the people,” Bastian continued. “Now let’s get this trial finished.”

 

“How will you teleport food in when there is a spatial suppression field blanketing the town?” Ali asked. She had no idea what to do, it was simply the first thing that sprang to her mind. Bastian had to know about it, and he was simply lying to her.

 

“How dare you share military secrets in public!” Jax called out.

 

Aah, that’s what it is. Several things clicked in her mind in rapid succession. Bastian was not lying to her; he was lying to the spectators. The townsfolk did not know how dire the situation was, but it was clear that Jax did. Her sharing the information in public must have hurt him somehow. She also knew that she no longer had any reason to pander to him, given that winning his vote would not sway the outcome at all. And Jax had just demonstrated he had two enemies on the council, not one as they had thought. The Banker, and the Mayor. Maybe…

 

Ali glanced at Lira, wishing she could ask Mieriel for confirmation – but Lira nodded imperceptibly, and it was enough. Plucking up her courage, she glared at Jax. “Perhaps you should have considered that I might tell the truth before inviting all the townsfolk you’ve been lying to, you two-faced ass,” Ali stated, delivering the insult with a deep sense of satisfaction. For the last part, she used a Dwarven word she had heard Morwynne use to great effect – the Dwarven language was crude and crass, but it was an exquisite tool for delivering an insult. The word she had used compared his face to his ass, while simultaneously calling him out for being two-faced.

 

There was a loud snort from Hadrik as he doubled over, letting out a belly laugh that filled the room, “Good one, lassie!”

 

Ali opted to smile at him mostly to cover her fear, ignoring Jax’s infuriated scowl. She expected that most of the people present would not understand the Dwarven language, but just the sound of the word and Hadrik’s reaction told everyone all they needed to know. Ali was still using her Kobold’s vision, so she saw Malika staring at her in shock, followed by a tentative smile.

 

She was way off script, and she had clearly just lost Jax’s vote, but Malika’s small smile had kindled a warmth in her heart, and she suddenly felt a lot less dirty, somehow. But her brief respite was short-lived as the wreckage of a trial continued unabated.

 

“Before I call this matter to vote, there is a formal complaint registered by Eliyen Mistwood against the Town Watch. She claims to have invested over two hundred gold in a joint venture with Aliandra to procure mana-purified water. She claims that the investment was maliciously destroyed in the attack on her business partner, and furthermore, members of the Town Watch were found selling the stolen product in the market without a license.”

 

“Pay her the damages, and I will fine the individuals selling without a market license,” Hadrik declared brusquely. “Mana-purified water is expensive and rare, and we cannot allow them to circumvent the crown’s taxes.”

 

William Turner cleared his throat awkwardly. “We can’t afford the damages, Hadrik,” he said.

 

“What?” Hadrik rounded on William, his phenomenal, gilded beard quivering in shock.

 

“She claims that Aliandra made an entire lake of mana-purified water, and the survivors of the raid were trying to sell it by the bucketful.”

 

Hadrik choked, his face going red. “A lake… that’s worth…” he trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

 

“More than the town, probably,” William Turner finished bluntly, as if relishing the implication or merely the chance to twist the verbal dagger.

 

Hadrik turned to stare at Ali, so she just shrugged flippantly and said, “Dungeon. It’s what we do.” But her mind was far from jokes, or more accurately, her earlier joke and Hadrik’s laughter had planted a small seed of hope in her – hope that their cause was not lost.

 

If I can just figure out how to win him over.

 

Mieriel had said it was impossible, but now Ali was not so sure he was that unassailable. Not that I have any other choice. She had burned Jax – her only option now was to win Hadrik, William, and Donella; if she failed with even one of them, she would again face a tie that was not in her favor or an outright loss.

 

“Even though I made a lake of mana-purified water, I still worked through the guild merchant to sell it to Eliyen. Everything was legal and all the required taxes were paid,” Ali offered the flabbergasted Dwarf. Her mind raced as she struggled to get ahead of the game, trying to figure out what else she might use to convince him, and then it came to her – she had been planning to offer Magicite as an enticement to buy Jax’s vote. She couldn’t buy Hadrik’s because he seemed too honest and law-abiding.

 

Or can I?

 

“Recently, I discovered how to make Magicite, and that too was sold to the Novaspark Academy of Magic via the guild merchant, Weldin Thriftpenny. As you can imagine, a reliable supply of Magicite could be a significant boost for the economy of the town – and Weldin Thriftpenny is properly licensed.” In the front row of the spectators, she saw the dapper Gnome merchant nodding to her.

 

Her statement caused a ripple of excited voices through the spectators, and Donella sat up with sudden interest as she explained the source of the couple of chunks of raw Magicite she had been sold.

 

While she wasn’t explicitly trying to buy the town’s tax collector, she guessed that the huge potential influx of money would result in vastly more taxes for the crown. Hopefully, that’s enough to convince him. If Hadrik thought she was trusted to work within the law, she might be able to snag him.

 

“She’s trying to buy your vote, you idiot,” Jax interjected angrily. Mieriel’s observation that he and Hadrik despised each other enough to fight during the council meetings was proving remarkably accurate.

 

“Shut it, ya twit. I wasn’t born yesterday,” Hadrik retorted, his giant gold-braided beard bristling with anger, before he rounded on Ali.

 

“I know what you’re trying to do. Enticing me with the promises of riches from a dungeon. You paint a rosy picture of prosperity, but once you are strong enough, what’s to stop you from finding an unscrupulous merchant and circumventing the law?” He glanced significantly at Jax before turning back to her. “The lure of profit and the color of gold is a powerful force. No, if you want to convince me, you must prove you can be controlled.” His voice was clear, and his laughter and anger had both vanished, replaced with a stern, focused businesslike attitude.

 

With his dramatic shift in attitude, Ali realized she had never even been close to winning him over. The laughter at her joke, his anger at Jax, underneath it all the stocky Dwarf had a mind as solid and firm as granite, and a sharp intellect too. He had unerringly identified the potential connection between her as a dungeon and Jax with his smuggling ring – the very plan they had decided to use before Bastian claimed the extra vote.

 

The color of gold…

 

“You want control?” she asked, drifting her barrier closer to the Dwarf, taking in the color of his golden jewelry. She retrieved the pouch of Dal’mohran gold coins from her ring into her pocket, slipping her fingers in to touch the coins. Control was something she would not submit to, but she needed to convince him that her interests and his were aligned. There was only one way she could think of. She pulsed her magic, deconstructing as many coins as she could.

 

“She’s using magic!” Donella’s shield of arcing lighting snapped into place as Ali’s barrier reached the dais.

 

A few more seconds. Before Donella could launch an attack, she had to distract her. Buy just a little time. “I merely wish to demonstrate why my respect for the town’s trade law is relevant, and why I believe you can trust me to adhere to it in the future,” Ali announced. Several more coins vanished, creating puffs of mana that Donella clearly could see. Several of the council members activated defensive enchantments.

 

Imprint: Dal’mohran gold coin completed.

 

Close enough, she thought. It would have to do; Donella was already trying to cast something as she stared at Ali’s Grimoire that had suddenly appeared in response to the new imprint. She activated Arcane Recall, and the entire council froze in the suddenly gray room. Ali anxiously checked everything she could see, but, to her intense relief, no terrifying blue glowing monsters leapt out from anywhere this time.

 

Donella must have seen something because her expression seemed twisted into one of surprise, her hand outstretched, brimming with mana. Ali chose a chapter with her mind, allowing the Grimoire to inscribe the new imprint upon the pages. As soon as it was done, she channeled her mana, using the customization to create as much as she could all at once, like growing a wall full of ivy or a carpet of moss. She fed it almost her entire mana pool, saving just enough for her Barrier, in case she needed to defend herself from whatever Donella was planning.

 

Her spell completed and, as the room snapped back to normal, it was filled with the distinctive sound of a continuous ringing cascade of gold striking wood and stone as the large mound of Dal’mohran gold coins she had summoned crashed across the table and spilled onto the stone floor.

 

Hadrik’s jaw dropped, and he just stood there staring. Donella’s magic fizzled as she let it fade.

 

“As you can see, I have no need of smugglers to sell Magicite. Nor do I need to wait till I’m strong enough. I can already just make a lake-full of gold if I wanted – and buy the entire town.” It was not strictly true, the pile of coins she had made looked impressive, but it was hardly more than a couple of hundred coins, and it had taken almost her entire mana pool to make. A lake would take ages. But she was going for hammering the impression home, so she didn’t mind stretching the truth just a little.

 

“And just what is your little stunt supposed to prove?” Hadrik asked, collecting his jaw from the floor.

 

“If I can already do this, but still choose to work with the town, I think you can use that as a strong indication of my future behavior. There are people in this town I care about – and wrecking the economy would put them all out of business, damage their livelihood, and likely drive everyone from the town. I meant what I said: I seek a peaceful coexistence and mutual cooperation with the town.”

 

“Ok, that’s just about enough for theatrics,” William announced. “I call the council to vote. A vote of yes will accord Aliandra Amariel with the rights and protection of a town citizen under the law. A vote of no will deny her this right.”

 

Wait, I need more time… He was calling for the vote early, and she hadn’t had time to finish making her case to Hadrik. Nor was she certain of William’s vote, and she hadn’t even started to figure out how to win Donella to their side.

 

“I vote no,” Jax declared. “Obviously.”

 

“I vote yes,” Vivian said, sounding like she was countering Jax’s statement.

 

“The crown votes no,” Bastian announced firmly. “Both my vote and Roderik’s.”

 

Three no votes, and one yes. It wasn’t looking good already, but these were the votes that she had been certain of from the start.

 

“I vote yes,” Commander Brand announced, giving Ali a tiny thrill of achievement.

 

“I will abstain,” Hadrik announced, stroking his beard with his fingertips as if in deep thought.

 

I didn’t convince him? she thought, a sudden chill settling in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t had enough time to convince the Dwarf, but she had hoped he would at least see her value to the crown, and Myrin’s Keep.

 

The rapid voting ceased as William Turner contemplated his choices. Ali’s anxiety spiked as his face showed the conflict in his heart.

 

“What are you waiting for, William? This is an obvious decision,” Jax prodded him.

 

“That’s right, this should be an easy decision for you,” Vivian answered, inexplicably agreeing with Jax.

 

What’s she doing? Is she betraying us? The whiplash of Vivian throwing in support with Jax left her reeling and hurt inside. But Vivian continued.

 

“Aliandra saved your boy’s life.”

 

William’s head snapped around and he met Vivian’s eyes.

 

“If you would put aside your differences and had actually talked to him, you would know this,” Vivian finished. William turned to the crowd of spectators, and Ali saw Aiden nodding.

 

“I vote yes,” William announced, his voice thick with difficult emotions.

 

“Are you mad?” Jax exclaimed.

 

“Be quiet,” Bastian shouted, rapping his knuckles on rich wood of the tabletop for emphasis. “Donella, how do you vote?”

 

Where Vivian had pulled this trump card from, Ali couldn’t fathom. She had expected betrayal, but instead, she found an upwelling of gratitude toward the Guildmaster. But it wouldn’t be enough, Ali had done nothing to convince Donella.

 

The Gnome mage was simply sitting in her seat, studying Ali, her expression perfectly controlled.

 

“Your daughter Brena is up for class advancement soon,” Vivian said casually, drawing a sharp look from Donella.

 

“And what of it?”

 

“Aliandra has an advanced dungeon shrine, and I’m certain you understand what that means.”

 

“Are you trying to buy my vote with a class for my daughter?” Donella’s controlled expression faltered, leaking conflict and anger onto her face.

 

“I’m just pointing it out because it’s relevant,” came the smooth reply. “William’s son unlocked an ice mana affinity and got an Ice Swordsman class from her shrine. He told me it was the fourth class choice he was offered.” It was a surprisingly well-considered pitch. Malika had explained that the town’s crafted shrine could only offer a single alternate choice. Vivian was pretty blatantly emphasizing the superior abilities of using her Shrine of the Ancient Grove. “I have personally verified the shrine’s authenticity – it’s the real deal.”

 

“You can do this?” Donella asked, her gaze returning to Ali.

 

Ali’s heart leapt as she saw the Gnomish mage wavering. She desperately wanted Ali’s shrine for her daughter, it was plainly written on her face.

 

“I can,” she answered. But the pained expression on Donella’s face brought her to a sudden clarity.

 

In that moment, she placed herself in the shoes of the powerful mage, trying to decide between her family and her principles. Her inner struggle was obvious as soon as Ali understood it. The warring emotions were played out across her face plain for anyone with eyes to see. If she chose her daughter, she would be publicly demonstrating nepotism, and her position as an impartial council member would be ruined. If she didn’t, her daughter might be confined to a mediocre class for life. It was as profound a conflict of interest as Ali could imagine.

 

“But I won’t,” Ali said, committing to her course. Her answer was met with a sudden silence as everyone in the room stared at her in shock.

 

Ali swallowed, trying to ignore the stares of confusion from her friends and allies. “I will not buy your vote. This shrine was passed down to me upon my father’s death and it has always been offered freely. I would honor his memory by doing the same. If your daughter wishes to use my shrine, all she needs to do is ask. Your vote here will not influence my decision on this in any way.” Her words caused a loud commotion to erupt from the spectator seats.

 

“That, of course, requires that you be alive,” Donella countered.

 

“Yes, it does.” She couldn’t deny what Donella said, and it certainly stole a lot of the wind out of her sails, but she felt the rightness of her argument and refused to back down, simply meeting the Gnome’s gaze as steadily as she could manage. It was the best she could do under the circumstances.

 

“You are throwing away your chance, your only leverage,” Donella said, speaking like the words were a bitter pill in her mouth.

 

Why am I throwing it away? The risk was clear to her – without Donella’s vote, she would lose. She would probably be killed, imprisoned, or forced to flee, dying to domain withdrawal later. But she was done bending over backward to win votes at the cost of her values. She suddenly understood Malika’s view – standing up for what she believed was right and letting the cards fall where they may. She wouldn’t make someone choose between their family and their principles simply because it was convenient for her.

 

“I stand here asking to be treated fairly by the council. To be considered on my own merits. I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t treat your daughter with the fairness I seek. Please vote your conscience in this matter.”

 

“You are certainly brave, standing up for your principles like that,” Donella said, her face returning to its former composure, clearly having come to some sort of decision behind her impenetrable façade.

 

But Ali felt anything but brave and principled. She had entered the trial planning on selling out to Jax. At every turn, she had simply been afraid of condemning her friends to death. Now, in the end, she had thrown all of it away on some silly pride in her father’s memory. She felt sick.

 

Would you be proud of me?

 

“I vote yes.”

 

Donella’s words entered her mind, but she didn’t quite comprehend.

 

Yes?

 

She had been braced for failure dreading all that came with that, but the word that touched her ears was not the one she had expected. Her thoughts tumbled chaotically as the room erupted into shouting and she saw Malika’s white-knuckled fist unclench in the corner of her eye. Calen – the rascal – had the cheek to nod, once, as if he had expected this all along.

 

“Silence!” Bastian roared, restoring some order once more.

 

Ali’s eyes sought Lira standing regal and impassive, like a rock unmoved by the winds and waves, but as their eyes met, Lira smiled and nodded approvingly. Is it really…

 

In the ensuing quiet, William Turner collected himself, straightening up in his chair. “The vote is concluded. In the matter of Aliandra Amariel, the council has voted four in favor, three against with one abstaining. Aliandra is hereby granted recognition as a person in the eyes of the law. As such, her actions in defending herself against Roderik Icecrown are considered to be self-defense and she is acquitted of the charge of murdering a noble. Similarly, Calen Avery, Malika, and Mato Bahr are acquitted of the charge of attacking the Town Watch, as their actions are now legally self-defense. This council session is concluded.”

 

“You’re not going to just accept this, Bastian?” Jax seemed livid.

 

“It is a legal vote, and we are bound to abide by it. Obviously, I will report this to Southport, where I expect it to eventually be overturned as the crown does not abide dungeons. But, until then, it is law.”

 

Jax turned on his heels and stalked out of the hall without another word.

 

We won?