Teemo lounges on Yvonne’s lap as she reads by the light of my core. It’s kinda adorable, watching the two interact. I’m tempted to just let them relax some more, but I really do need to ask her what she was doing with her ‘ranger duties’. They sound important, but I don’t actually know what they are.

Alrighty Teemo, break’s over. You two can relax some more later, but I really want to ask Yvonne about what her ranger duties actually are.

Teemo sighs but doesn’t fight. He knows I’ve been letting them have some time, despite my burning curiosity. He rolls over to his feet and speaks up.

“Hey Yvonne. The Boss wants to ask a few questions.”

She quirks an eyebrow at that, wondering what I could want to ask about, and marks her place in the book. “What’s he need?”

Well, I also want to ask her to help with the spiderkin domesticating the cave lobsters, but the real thing I want to know is what she was doing. I thought rangers were basically violent hippies, but hippies aren’t real big on duties.

“What do Rangers actually do? The Boss seems to think they’re just people into nature who use bows.”

Yvonne giggles at my apparent naivete in regards to rangers. “It does look like that from the outside, doesn’t it? People always talk about encountering a ranger in the wilderness, just giving vague warnings or hunting some random thing. But we actually have a big duty.”

Teemo sits up and pays attention as she gathers her thoughts. “I suppose Rangers aren’t so different from dungeons, come to think of it.”

Uh… what?

Teemo also looks confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we both do similar jobs.”

You’re a source of loot and xp?

“You’re a source of loot and experience?”

She laughs at that, thinking it’s a joke, but her smile fades as Teemo continues to give her a genuine expression of curiosity. “You really don’t know what a dungeon does?” She pauses as she lets that sink in, before smirking over at my core. “I suppose that explains some things, heh.”

“So what do dungeons do?” repeats my Voice, and Yvonne takes a few moments to answer.

“Ok, um… you can feel mana, right?”

Yeah. It’s like I’m in a bubbling hot tub with the mana around here. It’s warm and active. My own mana feels more like a pool at the perfect temperature, circulating enough to keep algae from forming and just the right chemicals to keep the water nice and clear. Below ground, though, it feels more like a cold pond, with all kinds of stuff growing that I probably don’t want to get on my feet.

Teemo relays my metaphors, and Yvonne nods at them. “That sounds like you’re feeling the mana around here, yes. Normal life agitates and I suppose warms the mana just by living. But, just as everything goes to the bathroom, it’s unhealthy to let it build up. It becomes difficult to actually use the mana when it’s hot and agitated, and I’ve even heard some rangers say it’s a cause of slums, rather than just caused by them.”

She shrugs and continues. “And similarly, the cold, stagnant mana is also difficult to use. Even worse, monsters live in the stagnant mana, and need it to survive. They can’t stand warm and moving mana, which is why they attack people and dungeons alike.

“Because dungeons are the equalizers of mana. They cool and calm the mana of life, and warm and move the mana of monsters.” She smiles at Teemo and my core. “So while dungeons like you treat the disease of stagnant mana, rangers are more concerned with treating the symptoms, by hunting monsters and helping out natural life that wanders into the stagnant places.”

Huh… I do all that? I thought I was just a playground, but now I’m a sewage treatment plant.

“Eugh, didn’t need that idea in my head, Boss.”

What? You’d rather all that just get dumped out into rivers and oceans?

“Please stop.”

“What’s wrong?” asks Yvonne, and I laugh as Teemo answers.

“The Boss… apparently has ideas to turn gross sewage into something not utterly vile and disgusting,” says my Voice with a shiver, and Yvonne laughs as well. I would have never expected a rat, of all things, to be concerned with cleanliness.

The Trio

Mlynda and Hark sit in the tavern, nursing their ales. Vnarl is trying to get a message and reply to their guild about what’s happened, and he’s taking a while. The message service in Fourdock isn’t the best, but this kind of delay feels more like he’s getting news he doesn’t want, rather than not getting any message at all.

“What do you think is the hold up?” asks Hark, and Mlynda can only sigh.

“I don’t know. Hopefully they’re just making him fill out some paperwork for a new regulation or something.”

Hark nods at that. “There was talk of a deal with a crafter’s guild before we came here, yeah? Maybe he’s having to negotiate something with them to get us new gear.”

Mlynda absently nods to that. She doesn’t think that’s what the delay is for, but she can hope. They all have a bit of savings, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to get new stuff. If it is a deal with a crafter’s guild back in the capital, though, they’ll have to wait for it to get shipped here. With winter not too far off, they could be stuck without gear until spring!

Her thoughts are interrupted by Vnarl stomping through the doors of the tavern. He quickly spots the two and stomps over to them, before collapsing into a seat with a scowl.

“Are we going to have to buy our gear from a guild back at the capital?” asks Hark. Vnarl growls and shakes his head.

“If only. No, the guild declared us dead! It was easy enough to clear up with the kingdom, but the guild is refusing to let us back in! They said the best they could do is to start us fresh, including our pay!” He only just manages to not shout, but the entire tavern hears. It’s not exactly crowded, but there are a few sympathetic glances at the table.

“They can’t do that!” objects Mlynda, and Vnarl deflates a bit.

“That’s what I said. They said they can and have.”

“Where does that leave us?” asks Hark, and the three all exchange glances. Before being captured by Thedeim, they would have just burned their savings on new gear and become freelance delvers. After having a lack of information bite them in the collective butt, though, they all want the security that comes with a guild, and the steep discount on Dungeoneer Guild prices.

Before any of them can voice an idea, a fourth chair is pulled up to their table. Three sets of eyes land upon a skinny orc, but none of the eyes are relieved at the sight. They’ve been adventuring long enough to recognize a rogue when they see one. It’s something about the smile, not quite a smirk, and the way they seem to even sit light on their feet. The signs aren’t too difficult to spot, if one knows what they’re looking for.

“If I could make a suggestion?” he says, meeting their eyes, one after the other. Vnarl immediately shakes his head and lowers his voice.

“We’re not doing work for the thieves' guild.”

The orc laughs loudly at that. “Hah! Ah, it’s been a while since someone thought I was working for them, heh.” He takes a few more seconds to calm himself, while the trio looks confused.

“I couldn’t help but hear you’re between guilds at the moment,” he says, and the three look a bit embarrassed about how loud they were. “Nothing to be ashamed about. How many others spend that long inside a dungeon and emerge unscathed? I imagine that’s why your old guild declared you dead.”

It’s small consolation for the three, so the orc continues. “I’m Karn the Slight, leader of the Slim Chance guild, the local adventurer’s guild.” He smiles as they all perk up, and Hark lets his mouth run first.

“We can join your guild?”

“Well, that depends. On what terms did you leave the dungeon?” he asks, his whole demeanor tightening slightly. The trio exchange looks again, and they all see the truth in what he’s not saying: if they’re on poor terms with the dungeon, they’re going to be on poor terms with him, and possibly the entire town as well.

“Amicably,” answers Vnarl. “The dungeon put us through a gauntlet, and we couldn’t leave without escaping it, first. We eventually worked our way through it, and that rat Voice told us we’re free to return, but suggested we get some new gear first.”

Karn relaxes and nods at that. “Sounds like water under the bridge, then. Now, I can offer you three a party slot, though you will be starting at the bottom.” The three deflate at that, but he just smiles and continues. “Don’t be like that! We’re a small guild, so the bottom isn’t so far down, heh. I even have a quest that I think you three would be uniquely qualified for.”

They look suspicious, and Mlynda speaks up first. “What quest? We’re unequiped.”

The orc answers by pulling out a small plank of wood and setting it on the table for them to read. “I’m sure it’s changed at least some since you’ve escaped, but I want to be the first guild to be able to hang this up as a trophy for completing it.”

The three look down, and slowly they all realize what the orc is getting at. Guilds love having trophies to show how good they are in various dungeons. Vnarl speaks up before any of them can get blinded by the stars in their eyes. “We get to keep the loot?”

“Guild dues aside, of course,” replies Karn, and holds out his hand. All three shake with him over the crudely painted sign.

Beat the Gauntlet