11. Chapter 11 The Spoils
The apartment smelled like banked coals and old coffee. I'd been underground fighting a twelve-foot ice creature less than an hour ago and this scent was much more welcoming. The coal-pot threw heat into the low-ceilinged room and the trestle table sat in the middle, waiting for us.
"Dump everything on the table," Bjorna said. She was already at the trestle with her hand flat on the wood. "We sort tonight."
"We're sorting tonight?" I said. "We just fought a yeti. Don’t you want to go night-night?"
"No, I want to see what we have tonight."
"Yeah, this is pretty exciting," Liv said. She went straight to the bench under the east window and folded herself onto it with her legs tucked beneath her.
Bjorna put her hand flat on the table and started emptying her ring.
Coins came first, gold and silver and copper in mixed piles that spread across the wood.
Then crystals, ice-blue and glowing faintly in the lamplight, some the size of walnuts and others the size of my fist. Then the materials came out.
White furs from the yeti sat in a thick stack, soft to the touch.
Bone plates from the brutes landed heavy on the wood.
Hooked claws from the stalkers clinked against each other in a loose pile.
Hides from the runners and the depth four creature followed, bundled in stacks.
The dark chunk of boss metal that none of us could name sat at the edge, heavy and cold and out of place next to everything else.
Nott emptied hers at the other end. More crystals, more coin, more materials sorted into the cloth wrappings she used for anything fragile.
"That's a lot more than last time," Liv said from the bench. Her ears were forward, tracking the inventory as it spread.
It was. The spread covered the entire trestle and spilled over the edges.
The last time we'd sorted on this table was the Brood Mother run, and that haul had been impressive.
This buried it. The coin piles alone were bigger, the crystal count was triple, and the materials filled every inch of remaining surface.
"That's obscene," Sif said. She was grinning. "I love it."
"Let’s not get excited until we identify it," Bjorna said. "Nott, walk us through what we've got."
Nott was already sorting. She moved through the crystals with the same careful precision she'd used last time, holding each one to the lamplight and turning it.
She was more talkative when she was working materials.
Her voice picked up rhythm and her hands moved faster; she looked like someone doing exactly what she was built to do.
"Crystals first. These ice-blues are cold-aligned.
They're rarer than the fire crystals from Cold Hollow's standard run.
The full moon shifted the dungeon's elemental output.
" She held up a crystal the size of a small egg, pale blue and pulsing with a faint interior light.
"This grade trades well. Enchanters use cold-aligned crystals for preservation wards, climate control on buildings, and high-end armor treatments.
I'd estimate double the value of the fire crystals we pulled last time. "
"Double," I said. "Per crystal?"
"Per crystal. And we have forty-six of them."
Sif leaned back and crossed her arms. "Nott, I'm in love with you when you talk about money."
Nott didn't look up. "You say that every time."
"Because it's true every time."
Nott sorted the furs next. Runner hides in one pile, stalker hides in another, brute plates in a third.
The depth four creature had left thick furs with an unusual texture that Nott said would interest leatherworkers.
The yeti furs she handled separately, running her fingers across the white surface with visible interest.
"These are exceptional. The pile is dense and the fiber length is long.
Winter-weight garments from yeti fur would command serious prices in the capital markets.
I've never seen furs this quality from a dungeon creature.
" She set them aside with more care than anything else on the table.
"We price these separately. They don't go in with the bulk materials. "
"I understand," Bjorna said. She was counting coin, her hands fast and certain, separating gold from silver from copper in practiced stacks.
Nott reached for the hooked claws from the stalkers and held one up. It was curved and translucent, with a faint amber tint. "Alchemical value. These dissolve in a specific acid compound to produce a cold-resistance tincture. Halver's Reach has at least two alchemists who'd bid on the full set."
"Cold-resistance tincture," I said. "Would that have been useful about four hours ago?"
"Extremely useful. We should keep a few and sell the rest."
"How many claws?" Bjorna said without looking up from the coin.
"Thirty-two."
"Keep four. Sell twenty-eight."
Sif had her chin on her folded arms, tracking Nott's work with open interest. "Nott, I'm going to say something and I need you to not get embarrassed."
"Then don't say it."
"You're beautiful when you know things. Your whole face changes. You go from quiet and reserved to this person who knows exactly what she's holding and exactly what it's worth. I find that incredibly attractive."
Nott's cheeks turned pink. She didn't look up from the claws. "I'm identifying loot, Sif. It's not a performance."
"That's what makes it attractive. You're not trying."
"I'm going to ignore you now."
"She says that but she loves the attention," Sif said to me. "Watch. Her cheeks are pink."
"Sif, I'm begging you," Nott said. But the corner of her mouth moved, just barely, fighting a smile she didn't want to give up.
Liv laughed. “Gods, Sif, you sound like you want to get in Nott’s pants.”
“Hey, she keeps doing what she’s doing and I just might.”
“Sif, if you want a cut of this, you need to shut that mouth,” Nott replied.
“Oooh, I like it when you talk like that.”
Nott grimaced then turned to the dark boss metal next and held it in both hands. She held it to the light. She ran a fingernail across the surface. She closed her eyes and her lips moved, mouthing something I couldn't hear. She'd never done that with the other materials.
She opened her eyes and shook her head. "I can't identify this. The material isn't in any classification I know. It's heavy, it's cold to the touch, and it has properties I can't read without better tools. Larg might know. If not, we take it to market and let the experts bid on it."
"Mystery metal," Sif said. "That's either worth a fortune or nothing."
"Usually a fortune," Nott said. "Unidentified boss drops are rare enough that collectors bid on them regardless."
Nott set the metal aside and reached for three items that had been sitting together at the edge of the spread. Two rings and a belt. She picked up the first ring and held it between her thumb and forefinger, turning it slowly. Her expression changed.
"These aren't raw materials," she said. Her voice had gone quieter, more careful. "These are equipment drops."
"Equipment drops?" I said.
"Finished items. Enchanted gear that the dungeon produced intact. Most runs at Cold Hollow produce raw materials and coin. Equipment drops are much more rare." She looked at Bjorna. "A fifth-depth full moon boss dropping three pieces of enchanted equipment is exceptional."
"What do they do?" I asked.
She examined the first ring closely. A simple band, dark metal with a faint reddish tint. "This boosts strength. Whoever wears it gets a passive increase to their strength stat. It's not transformative, but it's a real edge. Hits land harder, shields hold better, weight carries easier."
She picked up the second ring. It was a similar band, this one with a pale silver sheen. "Agility. Faster reflexes, better footwork, sharper reaction time."
Bjorna didn't hesitate. "Strength ring is mine. Agility goes to Sif."
"No argument from me," Sif said. She caught the ring Bjorna slid across the table and put it on her right hand. She flexed her fingers and held her hand up to the lamplight. "I already feel faster."
"You don't feel faster," Nott said. "The stat increase is passive. You won't notice it consciously."
"Let me have this, Nott. I'm having a moment with my new ring."
"You're having a moment with your own hand."
"My hand looks great with a ring on it. Daniel, doesn’t my hand look great?"
"Your hand looks gorgeous. Everything about you looks gorgeous. Is that what you want to hear? Can I see the belt?"
"Smooth redirect," Liv said. "He wanted to compliment you without starting something."
"He started something anyway," Sif said. "He said everything about me looks gorgeous. I'm going to hold him to that."
"Is there a scout ring in that pile?" Liv said. "Something that makes my ears even better?"
"Your ears are already ridiculously overpowered," I said. "If they got any better, you'd hear people thinking."
"I'd hear what you're thinking right now and I bet it's something nice about me."
"It's always something nice about you."
Her ears went pink. “My boyfriend loves me.”
Nott took the belt last. It was leather, well-made, with a rich brown color and stitching that looked precise and intentional. When she held it up, something pulled at me. A tug, faint and familiar, from the same place the gold came from when I healed. I wanted to touch it before I knew why.
"This is healer-class equipment," Nott said. She turned it in her hands, examining the stitching and the buckle. "It boosts intelligence. For a healer, intelligence affects the efficiency and potency of your healing output. Your heals would hit harder, drain you less, and stretch further."
She held it out to me. "This is yours, Daniel."