Dungeons Are Bad Business

The bank ultimately turned out to be a bust. The [Investment Director], a young man with long red hair and a tailored suit named Johann had listened to Vee’s pitch, nodded into steepled fingers and asked questions as if he were genuinely interested, and then denied Vee’s request for a loan.

“Banking is a business of relationships,” he’d said. “There’s an old saying: ‘It’s important to know well those who are trying to get into your purse’, and simply put, Master Vales, I don’t know you.”

Vee kicked a rock as he walked down the street and grumbled at how little it rolled.

“What are we going to do now?” Alforde asked. He was following a few steps behind Vee and stopped every now and then to practice a hammer swing or two. Each one created a gust of cold air, and Vee shivered as he walked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted as he put his hands into his pockets. His estimate for the basic costs of setting up the dungeon was roughly three thousand golden fleurs. The nineteen he had left from the council’s “investment” now seemed laughable in comparison. He was frustrated as could be. Even after taking a new class and settling on a venture, he was basically in the same place as he started, except that now instead of just making enough money to survive, he had to find a way to get more money than he’d ever had in his life. No big deal.

The only bright spot about his trip to the bank was finding out that the building and lot he’d picked for the dungeon belonged to the city and they considered it abandoned. So long as he was willing to brave the fiends and ghosts – seriously, why was everyone so afraid of ghosts? – it was his for the taking, and totally free to boot.

Still, Vee’s foul mood lasted for the next two days. He stayed in his bed and stared up at the ceiling, trying to think of things that he could cut from the dungeon’s cost, but was pretty sure that he was already as lean as could be. Even when hardened and shaped, ectoplasm didn’t make for a great building material, and Vee couldn’t conjure wood, stone or metal out of thin air.

“I…might have an idea for a place we can get some money,” Reginald said on the third day, after Vee snapped at Alforde for knocking down a chair with one of his more vigorous practice swings.

Vee sat up and glared at him. His eyes were red due to the fact that he was barely sleeping, and his temper was short. “Oh do you now? Of course. And what might that be?”

“Well, it’s not really a place. It’s a person.”

Vee twirled his index finger. Get on with it.

The spirit in the hat gulped – which didn’t sound the way one might expect it to, on account of being made of fabric and not really having a throat – and then said: “Sacre.”

“Sacre? Where have I heard that name before?”

“Back at the station,” Alforde said. “Bert and Maryanne were arguing about the fact that she works for him. He seems like quite the unsavory character, if the way they were talking about him was any indication.”

“So he’s like a [Mob Boss] or something?” Vee asked.

There was another gulp from the hat. It sounded a little bit like a leaking balloon. “He’s an [Honest Businessman].”

“Same thing.”

No one spoke for a few seconds, and then Vee shook his head and stood up. “Fine. We don’t have any better options, so let’s go talk to Sacre.”

His eyes narrowed. “And it’s totally a coincidence that you know about Sacre though, huh Reginald?”

“I’ve been around for decades,” the hat said defensively. “He’s the biggest crim—alternative lender in the city. It’s impossible not to know him.”

“I’m sure. Definitely nothing at all suspicious about this. Nope, not at all.”

Vee looked around, waiting for the popup to inevitably appear and offer him a new, likely useless class. To his surprise, his vision remained clear of all screens. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t had any new class offerings since he’d become a [Dungeon Master].

He wasn't sure how to feel about that revelation. For years, he’d been fending off two or three offerings a day, and now there were none. It was weird. He kind of missed them.

[Devious Mind +1]

Well, another stat up was good. At some point, if this pace continued, perhaps he’d start getting some perks from his new stats.

Usually, perks came on the sevens. Occasionally though, you came across a weird one that gave its rewards on the fives or tens. He suspected that Adventurousness was one of the latter, because with a current score of eight he should have already received his first perk from it. But, alas, nothing.

“I don’t suppose you just happen to know where we can go and find Sacre, huh?”

Now Reginald was starting to get defensive. “I don't know why you're so suspicious. It’s just like I said: I’m old. I’ve only ever lived in Oar’s Crest, and Sacre has been handling business here for almost the last twenty years. He can be found near the border of Eastown, where he owns a restaurant. That’s where he does most of his business. The place is called Angelino’s.”

Vee put on his coat, and plunked Reginald down onto his head. “I’d expect nothing else. Come on, Alforde. Let’s go.”

Alforde made to follow, but Reginald coughed and twisted ever so slightly atop Vee’s head. “You…probably want to leave Hammy behind,” he said. “Sacre has some employees who might, uh, not like it if you try and enter armed like that. Could lead to a misunderstanding if you catch my drift.”

Alforde protested, but ultimately agreed to leave his hammer behind. “I’ll bring you back something nice,” he said to the weapon as they left.

Angelino’s was a surprisingly dumpy building next to the fence that marked the boundary of Northtown and Eastown. The door was covered by a red and white checkered awning, and two menacing men dressed in ill-fitting suits loitered outside. The first of these stopped Vee as he approached.

“Gots to check ya for weapons ‘fore ya go in there.”

Vee stopped and held up his arms so that the mustachioed man could use his [Pat Down] skill. “Seems like kind of a strange procedure for a legitimate restaurant, but sure.”

“Take it easy, big guy,” Reginald said, and the thug’s beady eyes went wide. He nodded at his companion.

“Tony, did that hat just talk?”

The second man, who was as thin as the first was thick, nodded. “Reckon so. Reckon so indeed.”

“Ya think it’s a weapon?”

This was apparently a question on the level of “What is the purpose of man?” for the two doormen, as they squinted and shrugged at each other in an ever-more-complicated sequence. Ultimately, one or the other or both arrived at the conclusion “probably not” and they let Vee, Alforde, and Reginald through.

Inside were even more goons, and a few patrons who looked like they’d rather be anywhere else. A tall, buxom woman in an outfit that left little the imagination walked up to them with a pair of menus in her hands.

“Hello, gentlemen. Let me take you to an open table.”

“We’re here to see Sacre,” Vee said, ignoring the collective gasp from the rest of the joint at the casual mention of the man’s name. “Got a business deal to talk about with him. He’s here, isn’t he?”

“What are you doing?” Alforde hisspered as a pair of men came to stand between them and the door. These were both dressed in slightly better fitting suits, but still looked more than a little comical due to the fact that they were wearing fedoras cocked to the side. There are precious few people who can pull off a fedora without looking foolish, and these two were not amongst their number.

Vee winked at his best friend. “Trust me on this one, bud. My dad used to deal with a guy like this all the time back home. You've just gotta project confidence, and not sound like you're scared.”

The woman apprehensively looked over her bare shoulder to the table in the corner of the room. Naturally, it was dark and surrounded by a thick cloud of cigar smoke, so the occupants were obscured from view. Knowing that mysterious smoke screens tended to only work the one way, Vee held up his hand to make the universal gesture for money so that Sacre could see he meant business.

Vee didn’t see or hear any signal, but apparently it got made all the same, and the woman’s smile returned as she turned back around. “If you’ll just follow me, please.”

They did so and were greeted by three more gangsters just in front of the table. They were all dressed in suits that looked like they’d actually been tailored for their bodies, and so Vee surmised that they must be high ranking indeed. Each of them checked Vee.

The first used [Check for Weapons], which was a stronger version of [Pat Down]. The second used [Check Intent] and the third used [Scare Silly], which didn’t work on Vee thanks to the passive fear-immunity granted to him by his [Ghost Maestro] skill, [Stiff Spine].

The entire process was repeated for Alforde, and once the armorsoul's trembling from the third test subsided, the friends were invited to sit down.

It was hard to see the man across the table, who Vee had to assume was Sacre, but he was definitely fat as could be. He took up almost the entire side of the table by himself, and Vee remembered that Bert had called the man a slug. It seemed particularly fitting now.

“You’ve got balls, kid. I’ll give you that. Not many men would come in here and talk like that. What can I do for you?” the man said as he let out a big mouthful of cigar smoke. Vee scrunched his nose at the spicy stench, but he didn’t blink or cough. First impressions were important, but so were second impressions, and third and fourth and so on. When dealing with a man like Sacre, keeping your composure was king and so Vee did his best to keep his face neutral.

“I’m guessing you already know who I am,” he said, “so I’ll go ahead and get right to the point. I’d like you to loan me some money.”

“What makes you think that I can help? I’m just a humble [Tomato Farmer], an [Honest Businessman].”

Vee couldn’t see it from the restaurant, but he was pretty sure that Sacre’s “tomato farm” was a field of plants with guards every twenty or thirty feet. Just to make sure that no one tried to steal the tomatoes, probably.

“Come on now,” Vee said. “I’m not sure, but I think I have a pretty good idea of the type of businesses you’re involved with.”

“Oh? And what might you think those are?”

Vee noted the threat in the man’s voice and smiled. “You run a carriage company. It was one of your drivers who brought me into town. Given what I paid for the trip, I’m sure that you’re rolling in fleurs.”

That earned him a laugh, and Vee relaxed a little bit.

“I like your style, kid. And you’re right, I do have my fingers in a lot of pies. How much money would you say you’re looking for?”

“Three thousand gold fleurs ought to cover my costs.”

Sacre rubbed his forehead, and let out another mouthful of smoke. “That’s a lot of money, Mister [Dungeon Master]. Now I see why the bank turned you down. I could give you the money, but then I’d be taking on a lot of risk. What am I supposed to do if you go ahead and run out of town on me, huh?”

Vee shrugged. “I’m sure that you have your ways of tracking people down,” he said. “But I won’t run out on you. I’m a man of my word.”

Sacre laughed again. Vee felt Reginald shift atop his head. It was a strange shift, as if the hat was making a face that Vee couldn't see.

“A man of your word? How old are you? Twenty?"

"Twenty four."

Sacre flicked his hand dismissively. "Bah. You're still just a kid. Look, it's easy for anyone to say that but I've known a lot of people who ran with money that wasn't theirs and lived just long enough to regret it. Normally, I’d tell you that the bank had the right of it and say no to your request, but I’m a generous man in a generous mood. I've heard about your venture, and I think that what you’re trying to do is good for the city. What’s good for the city is good for me, so I’ll help you out. I've always said Oar's Crest has been rotting for too long. Too long indeed. Here take this.”

He took the rose pin off his lapel and slid it across the table to Vee. “Show this to any business in Northtown, and they’ll give you whatever you need. No money upfront. Once you get your dungeon built and the fleurs are coming in, we can discuss the amount you owe and the terms of repayment. How’s that sound?”

Too good to be true, Vee was sure, but his [Detect Lies] skill showed nothing out of the ordinary. It was probably too low leveled to do anything useful. He made a mental note to play cards with Alforde later so that he could make it stronger by reading the armorsoul’s horrendous bluffs.

Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and Vee had thought about his situation enough to know that he had no other options. Taking the money from a mafioso would simply transmute one problem into another, but forward progress was forward progress. He took the pin and bowed to Sacre, then said his goodbyes, got up and left.

[It's important to stay cool under pressure. You can now earn points in Guts! Guts +3]

When the young [Dungeon Master] was gone, one of Sacre’s lieutenants sat down across from him and held out his hands. His name was Christopher, but only the boss called him that. Everyone else called him Walnut.

“You sure about this, boss? You’ve always said that dungeons are bad businesses, so why are you helping the kid out?”

Sacre grinned, and even through the haze of cigar smoke, his jagged teeth were perfectly visible. “That's right. They are, Christopher. They are. But bad loans for people like that [Dungeon Master] are good business for us. Either we get paid on time, or we go collect what we're owed. You know what I mean?”

Then Sacre laughed, and everyone else in the restaurant who was interested in going home with all their limbs still properly attached laughed too.

Stat Sheets:

Vee Vales:

Primary Class: Ghost Maestro (Locksmagister University), Level 13

Secondary Class: Dungeon Master (Oar’s Crest), Level 2

Might: 6

Wit: 20

Faith: 11

Adventurousness: 8

Ambition: 5

Plotting: 3

Charisma: 2

Devious Mind: 4 (+1)

Leadership: 2

Guts: 3 (+3)

Alforde Armorsoul:

Primary Class: Clunker (Vee Vales), Level 9

Secondary Class: Right-hand man (Vee Vales), level 8

Tertiary Class: Hammer Afficionado (Self), Level 1

Additional Class: Dungeon Champion (Oar’s Crest), level 1

Might: 18

Wit: 10

Faith: 23

Adventurousness (Bound – Vee Vales): 4

Reginald:

Primary Class: Core Spirit (Unknown), Level ???

Secondary Class: Loudmouth (Self), Level 26

Tertiary Class: Majordomo (Vee Vales), Level 1

Might: 1

Wit: 24

Faith: 2

Ambition: 19

Greed: 16

Deceptiveness: 36 (-1)

[ERROR! ERROR! ERROR!]