A string of discordant bells jangled as I pushed at the door till I opened a gap wide enough for me to wriggle past. Once I’d cleared the threshold and looked up, my heart skipped a beat. It felt like I’d died again, only this time I’d actually been whisked away to a divine paradise. I was staring with stars glittering in my little beedy rat eyes as I took in the promised land for scroungers laid out before me.

Shelfs, barrels, boxes, and cases packed to the rafters with all manner of oddments. Hell, even the rafters were hung with nets and bags bursting with wares.

To one side, ensconced in this kingdom of crap, sat a Goblin behind a stubby counter. He had his back leaning against one of the few visible patches of wall, while thumbing through a battered copy of ‘Davey Delver and the Curious Ring’.

I snorted in amusement after I saw the title.

If the Davey Delver serials were the books Gig had mentioned reading, it explained how she might’ve gotten some of her more imaginative notions about adventurers. The books were notorious for their exaggerations, inaccuracies, and outright fabricated nonsense. They, of course, were a huge hit around the Guild anyway. So, it was kind of unsurprising a few would end up scattered about the Dungeon.

In fact, the majority of the shop’s contents looked to be scavenged adventurer gear and paraphernalia. Whether lost, stolen, or looted, I couldn’t say, and rather not linger on. Regardless, none of it would’ve been doing the former owners any good now,

however I might’ve been able to put some of it to proper use again.

The Goblin, who I assumed to be the eponymous Dinkum of the deals, was nearly spherical in his roundness and sported enormously long bushy eyebrows that curled up at the ends. Combined with a hooked beak of a nose, he very much resembled a roosting barn owl.

Nevertheless I gave him a quick once over with [Delver’s Insight] to be certain he was who I expected he was. Which he indeed was.

[Ferris Dinkum]

[Monster type: Goblin]

[Level:16] [Hp:42/42] [Mp:???]

[Title: Dungeon Merchant ]

[Perks: Points Trader, Nose For Value, ???, Dungeon Babble]

[Drawbacks: Cornered Frenzy, Stuck In the Middle, Honest ]

[Dungeon Points: Personal 106, Reserved ??? ]

Nothing too shocking in his status, a couple very clearly merchant related perks and drawbacks. The way his points were split was interesting, though that almost certainly had something to do with the aforementioned merchanty sounding things. I also smirked at seeing [Honest] as a drawback for a merchant, not that I had a leg to stand on. While it was an encouraging sign for sure, I’d still wait to get a second opinion from Gig before I shook on anything.

The goblin seemed content to ignore both me and the door chimes, which I now saw used to be part of a camp alarm kit, still engrossed in his reading. So, I took the opportunity to conduct a more in depth survey of the shop’s inventory.

A lot of it was actual trash of course. A crate of mismatched boots, stacks of rusted cookware, threadbare cloaks, knick knacks, worn tools, and tattered bedrolls. All things you’d expect to find at any junk vender. However they were mixed in with all manner of goods usually too valuable to be expected to end up in these sorts of places back home.

Entire shirts of chainmail displayed on hangers, nets full of helms and random pieces of plate armour dangling from the rafters, packs clearly crafted of rare monster leathers just heaped in with their more ordinary bull hide counterparts. An assortment of shields leaned up against the ends of shelves. One corner of the shop was an unorganised mountain of books I was just itching to rifle through.

And weapons, weapons everywhere. Barrels of swords, axes, hammers, and mauls of all shapes and sizes. Stacks of spears, racks of long bows, and bundles of mismatched arrows to go with them.

And those were just some of the mundane offerings. There were recognizably enchanted items interspersed sporadically throughout the clutter, probably more than I’d seen anywhere outside of a Guild vault.

My tail twitched, it was like I’d found a treasure trove. Then it hit me and I realised it literally was a trove of treasures. They were the exact sort of things every adventurer hoped to pull from a chest during a dungeon run. The rare prizes that would prod us to just go stay a little longer, push a little deeper, clear just one more room, because you never knew when you might get lucky and find a pair of magic socks worth a year’s wages.

Everyone had guesses as to where it all came from, ranging between it all being directly manifested by dungeons somehow, to rewards from the gods themselves pleased with our work. Now, I’d gotten the answer. It just clicked into place and felt so obvious after everything I’ve seen of the Dungeon so far.

This wasn’t a junk shop. It was a bait shop, and adventurers were the fish they aimed to land. I couldn’t even say Dinkum didn’t know his business either, because he as hell sure had me hook, line, and sinker.

I rubbed my little grabbers together in glee. I not only was getting to bypass all the fighting that was usually between me and the sweetest of loot, I’d be getting my paws on it at wholesale prices to boot.

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I forced myself to stop from simply diving in and scooping up every shiny that caught my eye, and reminded myself of my situation. I had to be circumspect with my Dungeon points. I was nearly eaten by a giant fuck off snake to get most of the ones I had and I wasn’t sure how’d hard it might be to get more. Blowing them all now on expensive magic toys I’d lose as soon as I inevitably respawned would just be a waste. The Dungeon was a dangerous place and I’d only ever get so lucky for so long. I was only looking to stock up on some cheap, easily replaceable, necessities. Basically disposable gear. Still, one or two choice items selected with due deliberation to help stave off that inevitability could be a justifiable expense. That’s what I told myself anyway.

I was running ahead of myself though. Before anything else I’d come for information. So, I stuck a quark in my averse for the moment and made my way towards the preoccupied shopkeeper. He was just going to have to wait to find out who framed Davey Delver’s father for murder till after we were done.

Spoilers, it was the Vampire.

~~~~~

I hopped up on to the counter to be eye level with the goblin shopkeep, earning me a side eye glance and a single raised bushy brow.

“So, I hear you’re the goblin to talk to about Dungeon points.“ I said, by the way of an introduction.

The goblin squinted at me for a moment before sniffing, then a second brow raised to match the first. “Might be that I am.” He stated, with a hint of surprise in his voice. “Fer Dinkum at your service. What can I do ya for?”

“Rowan, Nice to meet you.” I returned in kind. “Ok. Before we get into the weeds, let me tell you, I absolutely plan on making purchases here today. So, if you’re willing to put up with some questions I promise I’m not just wasting your valuable time.” I said,

pointedly ignoring the pulpy novel the shopkeep had been spending that time on before I arrived.

“Hm, refreshingly upfront. I like it.” He said, putting his book down to give me his full attention. “Ask away.”

I immediately jumped on his offer before he had a chance to change his mind.

“For starters, long story short, I’m a fresh transplate to the Dungeon and I’ve come into some amount of Dungeon points. I’m told they're valuable, but would like to know how valuable, and more importantly why they're so valuable in the first place.” I asked the surprisingly obliging goblin.

I’d fully expected that I’d just been opening negotiations on a price for the information I was after, but I wasn’t going to complain about getting freebies. Also, Yeah, these were questions I’d basically already asked Vivain Fukn’ Winterbloom but I was hoping to get some more complete and or useful answers. Not having those answers followed up by a rock to the skull this time would be nice too.

“I see.” He said giving some consideration to how best to answer. “Well for how valuable, if you're more used to coins this might help you get the feel for it.” then leaned to one side to give me a clear view of the slate mounted to the wall beside him.

Chalked on it, with signs of it being changed with some regularity, was a list of Pitfall’s conversion rates. The current weight of copper to silver, then silver to gold. Finally at the top, gold to points. Doing some quick calculations to translate the weight into the coin I was used to, it came to roughly seven gold pieces to a point.

I had close to six hundred gold worth of points. That could buy you a house in a village with enough left over to live comfortably for a couple years. Or, say about two decent enchanted items. So, I was indeed sitting on a nice little chunk of wealth even factoring the seemingly reduced overall value of coin in the Dungeon.

After I finished my brief examination of the slate I turned back to Dinkum and nodded for him to go on.

“So, why they’re valuable, huh? Besides the convenience of being able to change them for more easy to spend coin most places, they are themselves a unique resource everyone needs that’s backed by the Dungeon itself.” He twiddled an eyebrow as he thought how to explain further “You know about levels and respawning?”

“Some? Definitely not enough.” I answered.

“You can use points to push you up to whatever your current level cap is, which has all sorts of benefits.” He explained before beginning to tick them off on his fingers.

“More [Hp] and [Mp], bit of an overall physical boost, more available titles and perks, meeting the prerequisites to buy certain Dungeon spawned items, even eventually the option to advance your type. But, they're not just about getting more, they’re also how you keep what you have.” He paused there to check if I was still following along.

Yes, I very much was. This was the good stuff and I eagerly gestured for him to continue.

“When you get respawned you lose a chunk of whatever you invested towards your levels. The shorter the interval between your respawns, the bigger the chunk you lose. Staying topped up near your level cap helps midgate the effect and prevents a runaway level drop. Bottom out to your minimum level too often and there can be… consequences…” The goblin said, his countenance turning grimm.

“Consequences?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I’d rather not get into the topic of fearls if you don’t mind.” He stated, accompanied by a small shutter.

“Yeah, sure. Topic dropped.” I told the shopkeep, but made a very large mental note to look into ‘fearls’. Points overall seemed more important to dungeon spawned folks then I’d guessed, not just fancy Dungeon super gold afterall.

“Just one more thing for now then. How do I go about earning more points?”

“Ah, yes of course!” The question and a return to a topic the trader clearly enjoyed seemed to shake him from whatever gloomy thoughts he was having. “Well for starters there’s good old fashioned commerce. Gold for points and points for gold as they say.” He proclaimed, proudly gesturing to the shop around us. “Then there’s bounties and the occasional task offered by the dungeon though the spawn interface.

Let’s see what esle. Oh, not that I’d recommend this, mind you but gambling with points is quite the popular pass time and the sums can get quite high if you're daring.”

Then almost as an afterthought he added. “But, the most direct way obviously, is ringing mana out of delvers.” He said, tapping the cover of his book by way of example.

That froze me in my tracks as my mind raced.

Mana? It’s all about Mana? All the monsters. All the loot. Just carrots and sticks to get us to pour Mana into the Dungeon. Shit, everything made so much more sense now.

Wait, is that why the Dungeon is happy to have me running around stuck in a cheap little mob? Because I’m making easy Mana for it? If that’s the case why aren't I getting Dungeon points every time I use my skills?

Oh, Fuck... I’m paying rent!