The Explosions from Waterdeep

Hill looked at Telly's resolve and once again grasped just how much money meant to a dragon.

Having only just reached adulthood, Telly still cared quite a bit about appearances.

When he ran his cocktail business, he had even felt embarrassed enough to set a minimum price. He hadn't wanted people to think he was desperate to make money.

Granted, most people wouldn't order the cheapest drink while paying a dragon to mix it. Who knew whether they might catch a couple of unseen punches on their way out?

But if Telly kept that up now, his only option would be to go home crying.

"Then remember to take the ten-gold drink off your price list," Hill warned him. "Plenty of Terrasil Elves will pay a lot to watch you mix drinks, but even more will choose the cheapest option.

"If you keep charging ten gold a glass, even a Gold Dragon like you will work himself to death."

Telly blinked his enormous eyes. For a moment, he calculated how many gold coins a workload big enough to kill him would bring in. Then the realization struck, and he shuddered all over.

He knew how many new Elves had arrived. If each of them bought one drink, he would end up a dead dragon.

Telly felt he was still young. He hadn't even covered his entire bed in gold, silver, and jewels, nor had gems naturally embedded themselves in his scales. He had no desire to live such a miserable life.

He nodded repeatedly. "I'll change the price list right now."

Then he beat his wings and rushed down the mountain.

Hill shook his head and glanced at the Dragonkin hiding nearby before slowly making his way down.

The Undead always seemed to see and hear everything. They had spotted