DAY 310

As Renriel slowly wakes up, he smiles and wraps an arm around the kobold lying next to him. "Have a pleasant evening, Gitty?"

The small woman smiles back, although her own response is much more sleepy. "Pleasant don't even begin to describe it. This room - I mean, y'were great, obviously - but this room the dungeon's granted you is incredible. Private bath, hot springs, more toys than y'could stick in a tribeful of gnolls, and this bed! You could damn near fit three whole squads on this damn thing!"

Nearby, an orc woman grins a toothy smile as she plays big spoon to the smaller Nallond. "Easier to say for a half-pint like you, but even I could get used to something like this. You truly are the dungeon's favored Challengers if it's granted you luxuries like this."

The elf in her arms gives a contented sigh. "It truly is rather a dream. We've never stayed in one place so long, and it's still hard to imagine leaving. Hells, the dungeon is surely listening in on us, it seems as if every time we even suggest moving on there's...well, let's just say 'enticements' falling into our laps soon after to make us stay."

"Oh really?" The orc leans back on a pillow, arms crossed behind her head, granting full access to her massive green assets to the dwarven hands stealthily groping for them. "I wouldn't mind hearing about what those might be." She pauses for a moment, her head tilting. "Mrmm? What's that on the dresser over there? I don't remember anything being there last night."

Renriel freezes in place. "...It's not a card of some sort, is it?"

Tolla giggles as she pulls herself up, using the orc's generous handholds. "Nope. Not a card."

"Oh, good. What is it, then?"

The Shield Smasher gets a lyrical tone to her voice. "It's not a card, Renny. It's two."

The two elves give out synchronized groans. "Dear gods, not again..."

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An hour later, after their guests for the evening had cleaned up and made their exit, Tolla is staring at her companions with a confused look as they sit on the edge of the massive heart-shaped bed. "What are you two so glum about? This is something to celebrate, ain't it? I know it's been worthy of a party in the past! Hells, I bet a celebration party or two have probably led to some of your kiddos."

Renriel shakes his head. "I'm not saying it's bad, exactly. But we've been here for what? Three months now? Going on four? And that's now five such congratulatory cards we've woken up to now. It's just...the pace is a little concerning."

Tolla frowns. "Concerning? If anything, barely over one a month is slow, considering everything. Between the two of you, and how many folks have been rolling through here...well, I suppose the number of options has only really been going up this past month or so. Newbies climbing up here every day, now. I bet we could really break some records this summer."

Nallond gives an exasperated cry. "Tolla! These are our - our children we're talking about here! Not just points to keep score of! It was shocking enough to find out how many children the two of us had fathered over an entire career of this business. Now you want to double that tally in what, a year or two? It's bad enough that we play absentee father to most of our offspring, soon even financial support will be beyond us. Assuming the women actually carry through with the pregnancies."

The other elf nods. "It's getting to be a bit much. I've actually been considering using, well. You know. Contraceptive potions."

The dwarf's eyes grow wide. "No! You can't do that! Not when you two are on the cusp of Paragonhood!"

Renriel spreads his arms wide. "We never started this for divine glory! This was about enjoying ourselves, spreading some joy, having ourselves a few cheeky little records to claim to our name! You're talking like you've become some devout of the Church of Bounty."

"Well..." Tolla bites her lip. "...Maybe, let's say perhaps I did do that. Like a month ago."

That minor revelation is enough to make Nallond stand to his feet. "What? Why wouldn't you tell us something like that? I thought we told each other everything, by this point?"

"Cause I was embarrassed, alright!?" Tolla glares at her teammate, but Nallond is only more confused than ever.

"Embarrassed? Tolla, I have seen you provide oral ministrations to a barge sailor while we were still in full view of the river port!"

"Yeah, but like you said, that was for fun! This is...this is serious." The woman crosses her arms as she makes her way to a nearby chair and hops into it.

Renriel scratches his head. "Well, we at least agree on that, but it seems as if we're coming to it from very different angles."

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The slightly-chastised dwarf just can't help herself. "Yeah, like you two were coming to that orc last night from very different angles."

"Tolla!"

"Alright, fine! It's just...I know I can't exactly follow you two lads on this Paragon path, right?" She sinks into her chair with a groan. "If you two stopped right now and I started chuggin' fertility potions like water an' got to business, maybe I could catch up in fifteen or twenty years. Two decades where I'd be spendin' half my time barely able to do a thing. Gods forbid, I might have to take up taxidermy like ma and pa always wanted. And that's not the kind of stuffing I'm into, you know?"

Nallond rubs his eyes. "We've noticed, yes."

"And that's why I've decided to do everything I can to support you two, to make it clear to the goddess that I'm part of this team! It's a group effort! And I mean that in more than just talkin' you up to the pretty lasses down in the inn."

"I have noticed remarkably fewer men sharing our chambers of late." Nallond tilts his head. "But wait, what other support do you mean, then? Something to do with the Church?"

"Aye"! Tolla nods her head eagerly. "I've been talking with that Deylia, and Fullblossom, and even Hammerdown herself. And, well...it's not quite official yet, but you ain't gotta worry a hair about providing for the new kiddos. Not as far as money is concerned, anyhow."

Renriel has his doubts. "What? You talked them into taking care of our bills?"

This time Tolla shakes her head. "Not just yours. It's gonna be a new Church policy. Any kid conceived in Worthy Dungeon is gonna be declared a Blessed Bounty. It's something they've done before, for the first kid born in a new village, or for a whole generation in a local area if a plague or something hit them hard enough. Every Blessed kid's entitled to free food, clothing, even schooling from the Church until they've hit age of majority. Even the elvish ones, so you know they're serious about it."

The Hunter whistles. "That does take quite a weight off my mind. And you talked them into this? I suppose we owe you an apology then, you clearly are taking this far more seriously than we believed."

"Oh, but there's more."

Nallond narrows his eyes. "What more, exactly?"

Tolla locks her eyes with his. "You know how we're coming up on qualifying for Master-level training soon? Well, I've decided to switch my path. I ain't gonna be a Stalwart Smasher after all."

When she continues, her eyes almost have a glow to them. "I'm gonna be a Paladin."

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As the third party of newbies to arrive this morning makes their way up to the gates of Worthy Dungeon, Doorman groans to see that this group isn't entirely new. "Hey! What did I tell you four!? I've got little more to do than count the passing of the sun, and I'm fairly certain not a year has passed since we last spoke, let alone five!"

A red-haired girl points a staff at him as she shouts back. It still looks to be rather roughly carved, but it does at least have a gem on the end of it now. Tied on with a string, which dangles from a nail pounded into the tip. "Ha! You can't turn us away this time! We're proper Challengers now! Got ranks and classes and even identification badges!"

"Good, you have the badges they use to help identify corpses." The door peers down at the quartet; a human boy and girl, a gnoll boy, and an elvish girl. "Your equipment still looks as if it were pulled off of some such corpses and given a rough scrubbing - just how low are the standards to get into the Challenger's Association these days?"

The boy speaks up as he shifts the weight of his wooden shield. "Fourteen years old, actually. We're all more than qualified for that!"

"Fourteen!?" Doorman scoffs. "That might qualify for an apprentice Hunter assisting with tracking a Dire Squirrel or two. Delving into a dungeon? With no adults? That's quite suicidal."

The gnoll shakes his bow as he argues back. "He didn't say we were fourteen, no! We're all older than that!"

"Fine, fine. If you've got such official identifiers now, then let me hear them."

The human girl goes first. "I'm Reba of Grassbrook! Level one Mage!"

"Docke of Grassbrook, Fighter."

"Garuf Latooh, I'm an Archer!"

"I'm, ah, I'm Elyss Lightstep, I've been trained as a Supporter."

Doorman narrows his eyes. "...Are you all level one?"

The redhead narrows hers back. "Well we're not getting Association credit by arguing with you! Let us in and we'll be level five by the end of the week!"

"You'll be level dead by the end of the day! And just how old are you all, anyhow!?"

There's silence for a moment, before Docke points a finger at the elf girl. "Well, Elyss here had a birthday last month, so now she's - "

"I know how young the elf is, don't give me elf numbers! Are any of you over eighteen? By the standards of a species that actually ages?" There's silence again, and the door sighs. "Blessed Kahlia, give me strength. No! This dungeon is for eighteen years of age and older! We don't care what the Association rules say!"

Garuf raises a pawlike hand. "Since we came all the way up here, again, yes, perhaps we could at least visit Floor Five for a break before we'd have to leave again? Maybe, yes?"

"Children are definitely not allowed in Floor Five! Even in the public inn, dear gods, some of the stories Zappy has told me...no!"

Reba crosses her arms, unmoved. "You at least have to offer us the chance at a riddle! The magic of a riddle door compels you! Even I know that much!"

Doorman wants to deny her, but he can't. The dungeon has to be accessible, so if he were to stop offering riddles to everyone who came Xenia would have to remove most of his upgrades so that he could be easily chopped down by almost anyone who gave it a try. And while he would respawn, Doorman doesn't quite like the sound of that. "Fine! An adult question! How - "

Elyss shouts out, mustering most of her willpower to do so. "No tax questions!"

The guardian harrumphs. "I don't think you get to request riddle topics. But fine! When Lady Tarella threw her ball last month, which noble insulted her by wearing a red dress when they arrived?"

There's a number of blinks and blank looks before Docke asks a question. "What even sort of riddle topic is that?"

"Politics! Politics, my lad, very important subject in the Rainlands."

Garuf scratches his head. "How do you know who wore what to some ball? That would be a hundred miles from here, at least, yes?"

"Why wouldn't I keep up to date on politics? I keep my finger on the pulse of current events, I'll have you know!"

Reba growls out a shout. "You don't even have fingers!"

"And you don't even have an answer for my question."

Stammering, Elyss makes a last ditch attempt. "Was it...Lady Uliope? I've heard her name before..."

Doorman shakes his head. "Sorry, close, but it was her cousin, Lord Kalipe. Nice try, too bad, come back next decade."

Defeated, the quartet slouch and start to turn away. Reba does shake her fist one last time, though. "You haven't heard the last of us!"

"Of course not! The last of you for five years, though..." As the children finally make their way back down the trail, Doorman sighs. "Children. Now there's a riddle for you."