The next morning Oz went for his workout as usual, aiming for something to take his mind off last night. It wasn’t that he hadn’t enjoyed his evening out. The curry had been incredible. The company was good. He’d felt a little embarrassed to be complimented and wanted by a group, it felt dishonest. If Angie and Loxa, who both knew his secret, hadn’t been so keen on joining up with him, he might’ve made excuses and tried to find a way to explain he was an impostor who’d got in through the back door.

  The Ozzer had helped a little in pointing out the back door was a heavily guarded, trapped and monster-filled one, but all the same it didn’t mean he could match up to people who’d spent years studying to get in.

  So he’d been rather looking forward to some mindless exercise. To drown out the thoughts with the pounding of blood in his ears and the ache in his muscles. There was a major problem with this though.

  He stood just in the doorway of the gym he’d got used to using. One of several spread around the Noxarcer campus, it wasn’t the closest or busiest one to the main campus. It had been a haven for him. He’d tried a couple of the others but even before term started they were full of people who seemed to try and talk to him constantly. Maybe they thought he was part of the gaggle of boys and girls alike who hung around in their skimpy workout clothes, not exercising but chatting to each other about all the exercise they were totally going to do once they finished their break.

  His lovely quiet temple of physical exertion was no longer, it was absolutely packed. Filled to the brim with students who were desperately working out, a frantic madness to their actions like they were trying to cram muscle development in as if they’d just realised a test was due at the end of the week.

  "What in Golarck’s hairy balls is going on here?" Next to Oz was Helia, his orc housemate. They’d jogged over to the gym together silently, as was their routine. That single sentence was the longest he’d ever heard from her.

  Oz liked her, she was quiet and as serious about her workouts as he was. Despite living together for the last week, they’d rarely spoken outside of letting each other know which exercise machines were free. That and asking to pet Chops after their runs.

  "Is that man trying to load every weight onto the bar?" Oz pointed across at a spindly man with an overloaded bar, his whole body shaking frantically under the strain as he tried to pick up another plate.

  "It’s always like this." A voice piped up next to them and they both looked over to find a bronze-skinned Valkyrie in a shirt that said ‘Gym Assistant’.

  "Freeda? Are you working here?"

  "Yes, only for the first week. Till all the idiots get it out of their system. A right hassle, but a good way to earn some extra essence." She nodded and looked past Oz at Helia.

  "Helia, this is Freeda from the Physique club. Freeda, this is Helia, one of my roommates." Oz, at the nudging of Ozzer, introduced the two. Helia gave a silent nod of acknowledgement.

  "I’ve seen you around, you have great form. You should consider our club."

  "Thank you. I will," Helia replied, taciturn as always.

  "What’s going on?" Oz asked.

  "Everyone has just got their class, their attributes have shot up and they aren’t allowed to use their skills yet. They’re finding their new limits and blowing off some steam at the same time."

  "But why are they so bad at it?" Oz looked on, horrified to the depths of his finely developed core, as one person used the pull bar like a full-body swing, an action the Ozzer labelled mutated crossfit.

  "Well for the Dyn…" Freeda paused as her eyes touched on Helia. "For those who had tutors and the like, this can be the first time they’ve let loose. For those without that support, it is often the first time they’ve had a full-service gym. So they don’t know how to use half the gear here. We’re trying to get them up to speed."

  Now she pointed it out, Oz could see people in the same black ‘Gym Assistant’ shirts walking around and explaining the various tools. Two had come over to the guy trying to overload the bar. One was explaining the variable gravity magic and the other unloading the bar back to safe levels.

  "You’re way better off coming around lunch time or late in the afternoon. It’ll be like this till next week. Right now everyone from the Emissaries to the Crafters are out here working out their limits."

  "What are you doing though? You’ve given me good advice. Why are you back here?"

  "Oh I’m here for, well seems I get to show you." Freeda darted off, her body wrapping in bronze plates as she slid through the teeming bodies and broke up a pair of lads who were arguing over the rowing machines.

  One of them threw a punch that the Valkyrie easily caught before casually using a foot to knock his legs out from under him and pin him to the ground. People started to shout. Oz heard at least one "Don’t you know who my father is?"

  "I am going jogging. You may join me if you wish." Helia nodded to Oz and then began to smoothly accelerate away. He paused then followed. He’d have to find a way to work out later.

  They did a loop and then got back to the house.

  Oz changed into his uniform. He tucked his ‘uniform exemption’ into his top pocket. Pleased not to have to wear the stupid cravat, yet prepared to get called out on it. He quickly buffed the metal plates on Chops’ collars for much the same reason. Everyone assumed he was just carting around a summon or a pet of some sort and they always had the same confused look when he revealed Chops was a familiar.

  It wasn’t even unique. He’d read up on familiars in the library. Big familiars like Chops were far from unheard of, true they’d been far more common years ago, but it wasn’t like they were unheard of. The book had at least clarified that with more mundane familiars like Chops, compared to things like faerie dragons, spark sparrows, nature spirits and other assorted whimsical allies, the bond would empower Chops more with his power rather than vice versa.

  Oz was kind of interested to see what Chops would get from him. But the bond would take some time to develop before that happened.

  In his full uniform, minus cravat and plus Chops, he met up with Angie and they headed off to their first lesson. Dungeonomics.

  This was the single densest subject that Oz had encountered in his frantic studying over the last couple of weeks. Even the Ozzer’s relentless enthusiasm for new information could barely grasp it. Thankfully this session wouldn’t be too hard, as it was one of a pair of identical introductory lectures being run this week. As the recently classed students were getting the full battery of tests run, they couldn’t be guaranteed to make specific times.

  The others were out getting their classes checked and reviewed, so it was just Oz and Angie for this session. They’d catch up with the others later in the day once they’d been cleared to use their powers.

  Angie sat with Oz in the auditorium. It had at least a few hundred people in it. While the Emissary track did some of its own things, it did share many of its lectures with the other courses. Oz and Angie waved to Glittershank, one of their other housemates, as they entered. The gnome sat with a cluster of grey-cravat-wearing gnomes and dwarves. The colour of the cravat changed based on your course type. Oz knew the Emissary track was purple, but Angie, ever the font of Noxarcer lore, told him grey meant they were in the Crafter track. Looking around he could see that the greys significantly outnumbered the other cravat colours.

  "Dungeonomics is especially important for Crafters. They spend a lot of time making stuff that could completely mess up an economy. Knowing that substituting a bit of gold for copper in an enchantment can make a huge difference in whether or not the Delvers will kill for it," Angie explained as they took a seat on the end of a row, giving Chops space to lie down. The twin-headed dog was getting a lot of confused stares and Oz heard at least a couple of whispers wondering what exactly he was.

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  "I can see that. I’ve got to admit that I still find it hard to get my head round why it’s so complicated though." There was a not inconsiderable amount of maths involved, which neither he nor the Ozzer were great fans of. He’d debated investing some of his remaining essence directly in processing just to help with that, but held off. He’d been told not to use it. No need to draw more attention to himself.

  "Well it’s all about…" Angie’s no doubt detailed explanation was interrupted as the door at the back of the dais opened up.

  The professor walked in. She was a hawkish, lean-looking orc, dark hair starting to turn grey. The power of the tiers extended the lives of those in the dungeon realms greatly so either she had to be low tier and half a century or so, which felt unlikely given this was Noxarcer, or high tier and ancient enough for it to start showing.

  As she entered a hush fell on the room. All the scholars sat up straight and gave their full attention. Even the pockets of guffawing Dynasty students settled down.

  "Welcome students, I am Professor Grunkish. I have been teaching here for thirty years. If you don’t recognise my name I don’t blame you, though I suggest you check the reference sections of the recommended reading lists. My work, while dated and improved upon by fresh generations of scholars, remains deeply relevant to this very day." Her voice was smooth and clear, resounding round the room.

  "You are all about to embark on a journey where you will be responsible for all manner of items leaving our realm and heading out to the mortal realms. It is a great and terrible duty. It has historically been what has seen more dungeons fail than any other factor."

  "To go into a dungeon as a Delver is the balance of risk and reward. While the Dungeoneering course is all about fine-tuning the risk, this Dungeonomics course is all about the reward. Not just material wealth but also experience and magical development."

  "Controlling this reward is essential to a dungeon’s success. In times long past we left dungeons to work it out, to make it up as they went along, to feel out and intuit what seemed like the right rewards. These ancient dungeons turned their essence into coins, copied fine works of craftsmen, created monsters with alchemical agents throughout their bodies."

  "In the past there were no agreements. No science to it." She frowned. "Mistakes were many. Cores were cracked, the flow of mana stalled. Out of this chaos rose Dungeonomics. Now let’s see it in action."

  "Imagine now that you’re a Delver. You arrive at a mountain." Behind her the blackboard shifted, art of a chalk mountain appearing with a door on either side. The chalk seemed to grow out of the slate-black surface. Professor Grunkish stalked from one side of it to the other.

  "There are two dungeons on either side of a mountain. They are largely seen as equal difficulty. The Delver is not new, but not seasoned either. He knows he must pick one to start with. So he goes and asks his fellow Delvers to tell him about the two dungeons."

  Dungeon North and Dungeon South appeared above the doors.

  "They explain that Keeper North prefers fewer, more powerful threats. He rewards people only at the end of each floor. His regular monsters offer nothing of value and he doesn’t reward people for going through extra rooms or trials. His rewards, while few, are powerful and tailored to the most common needs of a Delver."

  "Keeper South has many lesser minions and gives out rewards spread evenly across each floor. It’s randomly distributed and only through killing each and every monster, checking each and every room, can you maximise your haul to the point it exceeds Keeper North’s offerings. Yes, the loot is far less valuable individually and not tailored to any specific need, but it is immensely varied."

  "Hand up if you’d go to the North first." About a third of the hands went up, a couple of purple cravats and some reds, which Angie whispered were the more combat-leaning classes. Apparently Rangers had to take Dungeonomics as well. Oz frowned. Why was that?

  "Hands up if you’d go to the South?" The rest, including Oz and Angie, put their hands up. Oz noticed that more of the Crafters did so.

  "Each year I ask this question and we find a split. For years dungeons like Keeper North were everywhere. They believed clear, relevant rewards were what Delvers wanted. It brought in a steady stream of mana, as Delvers came to get themselves outfitted, collecting some of their most essential wares."

  "And then it slowed down." A chart appeared on the chalkboard, a jagged line showing a steady decline that started to crater until it all but hugged the bottom axis, barely sitting above it.

  "All the while Keeper South’s approach gets more and more visits." A chart appeared. This was the reverse. The opening line was a slow incline at the start before it shot up, heading to the stratosphere. "In fact Keeper South becomes so popular she’s in trouble, as the Delvers become so efficient in their delves that she can no longer draw enough mana from them to rebuild her floors, to replace her templates, to stock the rewards."

  "You, red cravat, green hair, why did you pick North?" She pointed someone out. Oz saw them startle before clearing their throat and responding.

  "As a Delver surely I’d want better tailored equipment. Why would I go for random stuff?"

  "Blonde rabbit ears, you picked South, why?" The professor’s gaze landed on Angie, who immediately switched to her lecturing tone.

  "It’s economics. I can sell all the stuff I find and because it’s so varied it hopefully won’t be too reduced in market value. This way I can probably just buy the equipment from Keeper North’s dungeon without visiting."

  "That’s the kind of thinking you should all be applying." Her compliment made Angie grin. "Delvers don’t stop existing when they leave our dungeons. They are professionals. For every Delver who wants to push themselves to be some great hero, to help reach the highest tiers of their world, there are ten who are doing it for the payday."

  "Dungeonomics is about understanding that. Yes, at high tiers you might hand out rare treasures that will be cherished for generations, but when you start, maybe a good reward is an enchanted sword. Here’s the problem. Your dungeon is going to be giving out hundreds of enchanted swords. Swords that will keep existing for decades if not centuries. Do that long enough and everyone and their mother is going to have an enchanted sword. And here’s the biggest issue."

  More chalk appeared. Crude images of an empty town on the north side, a bustling city on the south side.

  "Keeper North is going to attract a few people here and there who want to gain some experience and don’t fancy paying for the limited range of items he provides. The second they’ve got their experience and got what they wanted from him they’ll leave and never return."

  "Keeper South? Well she’s in even more trouble. Not only are her rewards spread out, every group is incentivised to kill everything in her dungeon, which consumes energy. Then because she has lots of random varied loot there’s no guarantee they’ll find what they want, so they’ll just repeat the process. She has no big challenges that kill Delvers so there’s nothing to discourage this process."

  "I see a few hands raising up. If your question is why am I, the Dungeonomics professor, mentioning the challenges, put your hands down." Most went down. "For the rest wait till the end."

  "Dungeonomics does not exist in isolation. It is woven into every part of the dungeon, from the art on its walls to the monsters in its halls to the attacks your Champion uses. If your Champion destroys people’s armour that’s Dungeonomics too. Delvers are not templates, they will need to get that armour repaired. That will cost money and that will change how they perceive your dungeon."

  "Now let’s get into the meat of it."

  And so she continued. Oz found it interesting enough, but the Ozzer was enthralled. While in theory they’d picked this up from the books, hearing Professor Grunkish speak really breathed life into it.

  She went on to describe stories of dungeons giving out seemingly innocuous items that somehow resulted in the mortal realms going to war.

  Heavy trash-tier iron armour. Suddenly the towns nearby had a ton of iron and it turned out that one of the first things mortals tended to do with iron was turn it into weapons. And then you had a king wondering where the hell that army came from and erasing the dungeon.

  She even joked how one Keeper had tried to work around this and equipped everyone with reinforced copper items and then been nearly farmed to death by a plumbers’ guild.

  At least it sounded like she was joking. She was smiling when she said it.

  Then there’s the obvious. Too much gold? Well now the local currency is worthless. Oz could at least follow that one.

  The professor then outlined the current trends Dungeonomics taught, the great principle of ‘controlled randomisation’ and ‘consumables’.

  Consumables were simple. Single or limited-use magical or alchemical items were a great reward for Delvers. They had real value both in the dungeon and outside it while also avoiding filling their realm up with an endless supply of resources that could be shaped into anything. Said consumables could also be further tuned to aim at gaps in the market, things that the surrounding mortal culture couldn’t produce or couldn’t get enough of.

  Healing potions remained a popular drop in nearly every dungeon.

  Controlled randomisation was the other tool, with loot being random, chances of certain drops shifting based on the needs of the mortal realm. Too much copper around? Shift to iron. War coming? Offer up more weapons. A plague? Drop more medicinal herbs. Yes in theory any drop could be copper, iron, weapons or herbs, but a subtle shift here or there really helped manage things.

  Professor Grunkish explained how the course would cover the core points of these mechanisms as well as more specialised Dungeonomic factors. She wrapped up with a series of questions, most of which seemed to come from the Crafters. By that point Oz was all but burned out. His hand was stained with ink from the notes the Ozzer took.

  He relaxed a bit and patted Chops who’d been very good and stayed silent the whole lecture.

  When it all wrapped up and they filed out, Oz couldn’t wait to go somewhere quieter. He needed to process all of this. Angie beside him was chattering away, but that he’d got used to.

  "We’ve got a break for lunch and then are you going to your Runes course?"

  "Yes, it seems that way…" Oz looked over his shoulder and then whispered to Angie, "We’ve got people following us."

  "We do?" She went to turn and Oz put his hand to his face. Angie was many things, a master of subterfuge was not one of them.

  "Hello, I’m Dorgan Fernspan. I was wondering if, as fellow Emissaries, you wanted to join us for lunch." Dorgan, a smarmy-looking elf in a purple cravat, introduced himself.