Three bags sit before you on the table in the tavern. Two of them are perfectly ordinary. A small collection of resources, some gold, a minor trinket that increases stamina. The kind of stuff you'd expect to find in the loot bag of an adventurer under level ten.

The last bag however, has you scratching your head and calling for Mercy.

15 stone

12 wood

82 gold coins

2 healing potions

4 vials of minor poison

1 stamina potion

1 minor disguise kit

40 feet of rope

1 crowbar

12 lock picks

3 Sweet Treat Pastries

1 cheese wedge

1 bag of chalk

5 mushrooms

15 feet of string

1 compass

1 flint and steel

1 tinder box

1 tent

1 bedroll

3 torches

1 waterskin

It's the largest collection of items you've ever seen drop, and most of it is total trash.

The half dryad saunters over at your shout, joining you at your table. You show her the bag.

“What do you make of it? I've never seen so much... stuff drop from someone. Usually it's a few resources and maybe a treasure item.”

Mercy's eyes widen as she skims the list, and then she shrugs a shoulder at you.

“Was this the rogue's? The one who vanished at the end?”

You nod and she nods with you.

“Yeah, what he did was technically against the rules. He hadn't lost the fight, he just didn't want to be there any more and, kinda, killed himself to escape faster. The gods tend to look poorly on those who use respawning to benefit themselves like that. Death isn't, or shouldn't be, a convenient way to get home. So they punish those that do stuff like that. I've heard all sorts – people who've respawned in a random location instead, people who've lost all the experience they gained on their adventure, or this. Losing all your non essential items. That guy will have kept everything he had equipped, but apart from that is going to need to start again. It's a pity he wasn't a higher level, you could have got some really nice stuff.”

She pauses and you turn back to the loot bag, frowning.

“That... doesn't seem right, somehow. Which god oversees it? There's no god who claims dominion over death.”

She shrugs at you again, rolling her eyes. “I don't know. I never asked. I'm persona non grata with them remember? Maybe it's a timeshare.”

You hum in acknowledgement, before accepting the loot bag into your dungeon's store.

“I guess it's good to know we can get more loot by forcing heroes to kill themselves-”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

But you cut yourself off at Mercy's wince. “That's not a good idea. The gods made the rules of this world and... when you first look at them, the decrees, there's a couple of pretty obvious loopholes. After a few revisions, way back when, they basically stopped bothering to try and keep the rules watertight and instead just added 'anyone who abuses these rules will be punished'. Same rule that made this guy drop loop could strip you of levels if someone complains to the gods about it.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. Best avoid pissing them off any more than you already do.”

You shoot her a half-hearted glare, but concede the point. You don't exactly have any other explanation for everything that's happened to you over the last few weeks.

Before your light bickering can continue, the air itself shakes, a great rush of wind blowing past you with a distant howl that's cut off as your ears pop and ring. The ceiling rumbles. Dust drifts down, pulling into swilling patterns by the still moving air.

Crippling damage to both ears, deafened

Mercy barely glances at you before you're both on your feet.

Outside, in the arena, the goblin children have been bowled over by the rush of air, and Amanda's hair looks like she stuck her head in a hurricane. She to is on her feet on the far side of the room, staring towards the back of your lair. She looks up on hearing your feet and points towards the stairway. She mouths something, but you can't tell what over the ringing in your ears. Something wet is sliding down your face.

You follow her finger, bounding towards the pillar room. Sienna the kobold is slumped under the golden plaque, blood running down from her ears and a light layer of dust covering her. You turn to Mercy, trying to tell her to heal your monk equivalent, but your voice sounds wrong, like you're hearing yourself from a long way away and underwater.

Mercy catches up to you, staggering slightly, and places a glowing hand on your head.

Crippling damage healed

“Gods damned Red, could you not just rush off immediately? I've been shouting at you to slow down so I could heal your ears since just after I healed mine.”

You have the decency to feel embarrassment curl around you. You do have a habit of ignoring system messages, and this isn't the first time it's come back to bite you. You offer her a nod.

“Right. Sorry. Can you heal Sienna?”

Mercy nods, but makes no move to do so. “I'm running a little low on heal juice, and this looks like it's hit everyone in the dungeon. Better to gather everyone together and then I can go recharge for a bit.”

Her face turns grim. “Besides, I'd rather save my power for whatever just did that.”

You grimace, but nod and turn towards the stairwell. A slight breeze is still drifting on your scales. Out of your peripheral vision, you see Amanda come up behind Mercy and the three of you step towards the spiral of stairs together.

You breach the second floor first, and stop so suddenly Mercy walks into your tail.

The Oread stands before you, its hand raised as if to knock on a door that does not exist. It is stood only a few feet away, where the edge of the room used to be.

With slow, careful steps, you emerge fully from the stairwell. Behind you, you hear Amanda walk into Mercy's back as the half dryad also freezes at the sight.

The second floor is cavernous. There's a lot of difference between seeing it as a blueprint in your menus and seeing it as a physical space. The Oread shifts slightly, turning its ruined face towards you. There's a hint of a smile there.