Dungeon of Chance: Even Odds A Dungeon Core Novel Serious Probabilities Series – Book 1 Jonathan Brooks Cover Design: Yvonne Less, Art 4 Artists Edited by: Celestian Rince, Ellen Klowden Copyright ©2020 Jonathan Brooks All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher. The following is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, businesses, corporations, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to any actual persons, places, or events is purely coincidental. Cover Design Copyright ©2020 Yvonne Less, Art 4 Artists Acknowledgements I want to thank everyone who has believed in me and has supported my writing endeavors! In addition, I want to especially thank my editors, Celestian and Ellen, for helping my books come together and be better than even I thought they could be! To my beta-readers – you’re the best! Thank you for helping to improve this book! Aaron Wiley Brian O’Neil Brian Oles Christopher Burr Grant Harrell Joshua Chausse Josiah Myers Karel Young Nate Martin Pat Goodwin Rickie Brown Scott Killingsworth Sean Hall Steven Gene Mills William Faughnan Zack Devney Table of Contents Acknowledgements Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Final Stats Author’s Note Books by Jonathan Brooks Tables Chapter 1 “Did you fill that order from Perkins?” a voice asked him from across the room. “It was due this morning, Clay.” Clay nodded in his mother’s direction, his dark-brown hair in need of a trim falling over his eyes. He flipped it out of the way with a free hand while responding, “Of course; I got it ready last night.” She should know by now that I can’t sleep unless everything is prepared for the next day. His family ran a small general store in their little town of Renton, providing basic goods for the locals. Most of the residents had standing orders every month that were automatically fulfilled and delivered to them as a free service, which they appreciated. His family also appreciated it, because they were guaranteed sales, something that they could count on to get them through the current drought of Heroes passing through their town. Granted, it wasn’t like we had a lot in the first place. After his father had severely hurt his back trying to lift a crate of iron ingots, putting together and delivering all of the orders had – for the last few years – been the job of Clayburnside Shuntwise (a name that he despised, so he often went by Clay instead). Now, his old man was in charge of the supply chain, which meant that he was frequently traveling in order to secure the best prices and choicest goods. His injury turned out to be a blessing in disguise, since diverting his focus had allowed their profits over the last year or so to steadily increase. They were by no means wealthy, but they were secure enough in their business that even the loss of income from Heroes hadn’t affected them enough to really hurt their bottom line. It was one of the reasons that Clay couldn’t sleep unless everything was ready to go for the next day, because he usually spent the time in the morning with his mother going over their books – which he enjoyed immensely. Numbers had always been easy for him, and by seeing how the store’s financials were broken down – especially looking at historical accounts – he could see what sort of benefits his father’s efforts had yielded for business. Eventually, if things kept going as they were, his mother was planning on letting Clay take over all of their bookkeeping once he learned everything he needed from her teaching. Not that he asked to do it, because it added to his responsibilities, but he could tell that she didn’t care for it. She was more of a brisk saleswoman, which was why she primarily ran the store for any customers who came in person, her dark-brown hair the same shade as his own in a ponytail that showed she was ready to do some business. His little sister, 7 years younger than him at age 10, helped with stocking their few shelves, cleaning, and any miscellaneous duties, though that usually only took a half-hour each day. The rest of Nina’s time was taken up with “boring” studies and playing with her cat, Spark – who was a mean little ball of fur to anyone other than his sister. In fact, Clay still had a small scratch on the back of his leg from when the black and red-patched cat had practically attacked him the other day. Apparently, the nasty ball of fur had been affronted at his passing in front of a window in their family’s small 2-bedroom apartment above the store, blocking the sunlight warming Spark as he sunned himself on the floor. After placing the Perkins order into his handcart out behind the store, Clay went back inside to tell his mother goodbye. They had gotten through the accounting in record time that morning, as there hadn’t been many sales or receipts of new product the day before; now all he had to do was make his singular delivery for the day, re-organize a section of the cellar shelves located beneath the store, and then…he’d have some free time. It was a rarity, unfortunately, but that rarity rendered even
