The flash of light faded away, and the four adventurers found themselves standing once again in the room leading to the Shattered Hall.
In the center now stood a rectangular table. They'd all been expecting it.
There was a small flash and four slips of parchment materialized out of thin air and drifted gently onto the table, landing in a neat line.
"And the taxman is here again," Rowan sighed.
"Of course," Ingrid muttered. "Can't even breathe without the guild taking their cut."
They each walked forward and picked up their slip. The slip held a ledger-style breakdown of their recent dungeon haul, the recorded loot values, and the corresponding tax percentage.
Wade glanced over his slip, his brows furrowing slightly. Before he could process it, Ingrid let out a curse.
"Nine thousand coins?!" she hissed, her voice echoing off the room's smooth walls. "They want nine thousand coins in taxes? For what? They're saying my share of the loot is worth 90,000 coins!"
