Why are you special?

Time to bluff… "The argument that broke up our party was because the last leader was embezzling. He was handling the paperwork, saying he was taking guild fees out of the party share, but was actually pocketing it all and getting missions from… well, I don’t know where, exactly, but he wasn't going through the guild. So… I’m not currently registered."

The fighter shakes his head, “Well… that’s relatively minor. You’ll probably need to go through the guild test again and get rated, but if you’ve been delving, that shouldn’t be an issue, as long as you’ve got the hundred gold for the fee.” I do. That masterwork Composite Longbow got me a quick two hundred fifty, and the rapier one sixty. “By the way, my name’s Paul,” he points at the wizard, “and that’s William,” the wizard waves and the fighter looks at the cleric, “and this is Carter.”

Wally the Wizard, Carter the Cleric, and Paul the fighter? Don’t tell me… “By any chance do you keep a holy symbol under your armor?”

The fighter raises his eyebrows, “Yes, I’m a crusader for the Blessed Mother, she has granted me the ability to heal… which is good when Carter’s down. How did you guess?” Ah. Not a fighter, a Paladin. Great. So Paul the Paladin, Wally the Wizard, and Carter the Cleric… that’s… a crazy coincidence. Of course, Paul considers himself a Crusader, Wally may think of himself as a mage, and Carter a priest, so none of them would get the joke.

“Oh… just a hunch. You seemed to get along with with Carter, and he advertises his allegiance.” Not what tipped me off, and that’s OK.

Paul nods as he grabs his stuff, “Yes… we met at services. We made a donation and were helping the nuns bring life into the world.” Wait … does he mean…

We keep talking as we walk out the door. Carter smiles, “Yes, good times. We met Wally there too. Sadly, he doesn’t have quite the stamina that the nuns like.”

As I raise an eyebrow, Paul laughs, “Farming. We were helping them out with getting the convent ready for planting. The holy hos thing is just a rumor planted by the unfaithful. The Blessed Mother doesn’t actually like folks selling their bodies… leads to too many folks using night tea, you see.”

Paul is leading me down a street… of course, “And the Blessed Mother of course encourages pregnancy and childbirth. That’s… interesting, but OK, I guess.” Which reminds me… stuff happens, so I should probably cast Block the Seed at the first opportunity. Don’t want them watching, though.

Wally nods, “Correct! But the convent is still a good place to go if you… need some help controlling certain urges. They definitely do NOT have a vow of celibacy.”

So… they don’t SELL their bodies, just give them away. Got it. “Quickly changing subjects… how far to the guildhouse?”

Carter chimes in, “Oh, not far at all. It’s kind of why we were at that tavern. It’s closest to the Guild, so the most likely for guild members to show up at. In fact…”

Paul gestures at a large stone building with no sign, “We’re here.”

Literally right next door. Huh. “Why no sign?” A glance at the walls tells me the place was built mostly with Wall of Stone spells, then customized with Stone Shape. Everything’s stone, including the door itself. This place won’t burn down, I guess.

Carter shrugs, “They don’t need it. All business is referrals. They’re also the only folks who build this way, so the building itself is the sign. Come on…”

I follow in… and enter a small room lit by Continual Flame spells on rocks placed in alcoves with little closable doors. There’s a desk (also made of stone) and a few doors (likewise, this whole place was made with magic). A man sits behind the desk, going over some paperwork. He’s sitting down, but he’s still taller than I am. He’s starting to go gray, but he’s wearing full plate despite the desk work, with spikes protruding from his armor. I kind of get the impression he did dungeon delves himself in his day.

Paul greets him, “Hi Francis, how’s it going?”

The metal-clad man behind the counter looks up from his papers, “Fine. Got your conundrum solved?”

“Mostly. The goddess sent us a solution, but she needs one little thing before we’re good to go.”

“Oh?”

“Seems her guild membership lapsed, so she’ll need to register here before she can register with us.”

As the only woman in the group, the human bear’s eyes zoom straight to me, “Whatever. Do you have the money little woman, and are you ready to fight it out?”

“One hundred gold pieces, I’m told, yes. What’s the test?”

Francis smiles, “Me.” He points to a door, “We spar in there. If, after we go a few rounds, I think you’ve got what it takes to survive the dungeon, we’ll get you all nice and properly registered.”

I size him up: Sense Motive tells me he’s got a BAB of eleven. Eh… I don’t need to kill him, just impress him. Should be fine.

“That’s fine. Any particular rules for the spar? I’m from out of town.”

“Oh… you can try whatever you’d like once we’re in there. I’ll try not to kill you.”

“I’ll try to survive, then. Shall we?”

The man gets up from the desk, his head just one inch short of the ceiling, and I follow him into the other room… Carter, Wally, and Paul follow as well. The other room is apparently about half the building all by itself. There’s a weapon rack by the door, from which Francis grabs a very nice glaive. The guildmaster takes up position in the middle of the room, and says, “Whenever you like.”

I shrug, and zip in under his guard, reacting before he does… unfortunately, he’s a veteran, and reacts before he can think, taking a swing as I close, his glaive connecting with my shoulder… which sparks as it bounces off harmlessly. I smile as I concentrate on a spell, knowingly leaving myself open… and he takes a swing with his spikes, but this time it’s blocked by the miniature wall of force I have wrapped around myself via the Mage Armor spell. I tag him with a Simple Shocking Grasp… but Divine Providence ensures I roll a twenty on both the attack roll and the confirmation roll, and roll maximum on all eight resulting damage dice. Forty eight damage… but as I used it on the initiative check too, I’m out of Divine Providence for this round. Hope he doesn’t have a save or lose available; I’d have to roll that honestly. But he seems like a fighter, not a cleric.

He bellows out in rage as my spell lands, and steps back to hit me with his glaive. He gets three swings in, all of which go wide as I dance around him… at which point he shouts out, “OK, I give, you pass.”

The smell of burnt flesh quickly starts to fade, and I take a guess as I take a few steps back, “Ring of Regeneration?”

The giant of a man cocks his head slightly, and says, “Yes… makes these tests more viable. I’ll be fine in five minutes… which is much longer than most of these tests take. Tell me, who trained you?”

I smile, “What, you want to go back to school?”

The man shakes his head, “No. I want to recommend your teacher to others.”

I chuckle, “Well… no luck there, I didn’t have formal training in this.”

The man closes his eyes and starts to open his mouth, pauses, and then opens his eyes as he speaks, “Well, you fight like a banshee. I know I connected, because I felt my weapon complain about the impact, but you’re not scratched. And that shock… what are you?”

I chuckle and lie to him, “It’s just clever use of magic items and sleight of hand… your glaive bounced off some protection from a Stoneskin Belt, and your metal armor helped channel the electrical spell into your body from the wand I palmed earlier. Nothing you couldn’t do with enough money. If that glaive had been adamantine or enchanted enough? I’d have been a goner. The rest of it? Well… I just got lucky is all.”

The guildmaster nods and relaxes a bit, but when I turn back to what will soon be my official party mates, I catch Wally frowning a bit as Paul and Carter nod approvingly. Ah… right. A wizard would know it’s really hard to activate a wand without speaking, and that they don’t take enough concentration to let your guard down … hmm. Well, that’s for later.

The guildmaster heads back to his desk, and I follow.

I start to get out the money, and the guildmaster stops me, “No… I got this one. You’ll need to pay up on renewal, but… well, I want my name on your guild card. You won, and spectacularly at that.”

I pause, eh, saves me money. “All right…”

I spend a few minutes lying on paperwork about my name and where I’m from, and shortly thereafter, the guildmaster hands me a stamped card made out of steel, with my name and an "T" on it.

“You’re all set. That also covers most gate fees, if you’re not followed by a cartful of taxable goods.”

Paul handles the paperwork for getting me registered in his group, and as we step out the door, the world vanishes….