Headed by a Snake

Tycondrius sat patiently, listening to Sorina Capulet report to the Brazen Guard leadership. The Calculator was detailing the efficacy numbers of the various guilds in the collective.

The results were mostly unsurprising.

Guild Letalis boasted the highest percentile ratings of the Calculator's ⌈Parse⌋ charts. As such, Tycon allowed his mind to wander, only paying attention when familiar names were mentioned.

Overall, other guilds performed... average to below average, with obvious outliers that were somewhat obvious to everyone in the command tent.

The Gold-Ranks were exceptional, even amongst others sharing their rank and class.

Legionnaire Karodin of Emberhold stood out, even though he had ranked up only recently. Surprisingly, Duelist Ptolema had performed poorly... at which point Aria informed the table that she was a few weeks pregnant.

Much to Tycon's chagrin, Reaver Tancred of the Stormbrands performed well above average, garish armor be damned.

Cleric Occam performed... average if he were rated as a Martial class... and absolutely horrid, rated as a Support.

Guild Stormbrand suffered the most casualties among their number. How they continued to recruit Bronze-Rank fodder in sufficient numbers was baffling.

Bannok openly expressed his intention to allow their contract to expire without renewal.

The fact pleased Tycon. He enjoyed learning about the oncoming difficulties of the people he did not like.

After a half-bell of speaking on the topic, Sorina was able to identify a few members of the Brazen Guard collective that had performed extraordinarily well-- adventurers that the leaders were unaware of. In the missions to follow, they would be observed closely... possibly granted leadership positions and additional pay.

Following that, Tanamar and Felinus reported what they and the scouts had found. (Also, the Hunter complained about the stench of the Letalis' Gunners' Hextech... something that Bannok and Aria willfully ignored, as their effectiveness was worth the elf's annoyance.)

The temple entrance gave way to a descent of winding stairs, culminating into a long hallway... a dark and dangerous environment, filled with possible traps and hostile Dungeon creatures.

Felinus provided rough sketches of the sights they'd observed... architecture, doorways, symbols etched into the stone.

Tycon identified them as Dwarven... something he was surprised the elf was unable to glean on his own. In particular, the heraldry symbol belonged to the Krakhammer Clan... a piece of information that he absolutely did not volunteer.

Diamantia Krakhammer personally crafted Athena's Arcanite blades. Their family crest was also etched into the metal armor sets worn by Raging Flame Knight and Heavy Gunner William Lawrence.

That an oft-used symbol in the Halls of the Dead Serpent was also on Guild Letalis' armor would bring about unnecessary suspicion.

Thankfully... though the elves were known for their eyesight and other perceptive abilities... there was something in works of metallurgy that made it difficult for them to properly analyze and judge masterwork Dwarven craftsmanship.

Further, the crests were well-hidden in the Dwarven designs, only obvious to dwarves and master blacksmiths... and for normal persons, only discovered after intense and thorough scrutiny.

Tycon reasoned that his secret would be well-kept unless the Gold-Rank Bannok chanced upon them or the information was otherwise freely offered.

As for why the Krakhammer's symbol was within the halls... he recalled that the clan had joined with Isidor's Faction after leaving their previous home, so many years and epochs ago. It was likely that this was that place.

...Which begged a new question.

Something within the halls was capable of ousting a Dwarven Warband... and Tycon highly doubted the Warlocks of the Snake Cult and their very human followers were capable of doing so. What else was hidden in these halls?

"Dwarven architecture, huh?" Bannok mulled over the thought, "So it should be... sensible, logical, right?"

Ariadne waved her paper fan, failing to hide the rolling of her eyes, "You mean 'boring', hun."

Tycon nodded quietly. He rather preferred the structured senses of the dwarves... as opposed to buildings shoddily built by humans or... the strange, winding, and often wooden structures coaxed into existence by the elves.

Bannok grimaced, "Should be simple enough, clearin' the hallways, checkin' out each chamber, lookin' for the Dungeon Core."

Tycon brooded, deep in thought... he hoped it would be as simple as Bannok surmised.

It often was not.

...

Following Felinuns' scouts into the depths of the Halls of the Dead Serpent, Tycon carried his curved blade in its scabbard on his waist. It was a large, relatively ungainly weapon, much different than the short sword he preferred. Still, as the weapon spirit within it improved his defensive abilities, he could essentially perform as a different class.

As such, Tycon had a reason for carrying an unwieldy weapon.

Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark, did not.

"Mister Lone..."

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Why are you carrying... that?"

The Bronze-Rank Ranger was carrying a heavy wooden maul, its head covered in spikes, its original purpose likely as a tenderizer for large slabs of meat.

"Oh, this?" Lone idly scratched at a scar on his cheek, "This is my mimic-breaking weapon."

"...Ah."

It made sense...

Lone had previous issues with mimics, a type of uncommon dungeon creature. Mimics secreted an adhesive that made them difficult to fight in close combat for a prolonged duration. The raised points on the weapon head reduced its surface area, simultaneously reducing the likelihood of the weapon sticking.

However... it would make more sense to use something akin to a mining pick-- a weapon with a singular point instead of many.

"Yeap! Spent my last paycheck on it!"

Tycon narrowed his eyes... "You did what?"

"My last paycheck, Boss?" Lone's bottom lip quivered as if he expected to be scolded. "I get paid. With money."

"Mister Lone... who did... you pay for such an item?"

"I submitted the request to Mister Cecil?"

"Oh, very well," Tycon nodded. "Carry on."

Lone was scammed out of his coin, as the cheap wooden weapon was certainly not worth the whole of his two-week pay. However, Sergeant Cecil Salt forwarded weapon requests to Sorina Capulet. As Lone's coin was essentially being returned to Guild Invictus, he had no issues with the young man's frivolous spending.