Ashes was in trouble again, she took comfort in her mother’s hand resting on her shoulder as she sat in the principal’s office with her adopted parents. Her father Mr Erikson was glaring at the principal.

“So you’re telling me that you’re suspending my daughter, AGAIN because she singlehandedly beat up THREE boys all a year older than her that were bullying her brother. What kind of school are you running here that your wrestling team find it amusing to attack anyone smaller than them with impunity?”

“There’s no need to get upset Mr Erikson, this is the second time your daughter has broken young Jensen’s arm and there is no justification for what she did to young Wolinski,” placated Mr Thornton the principal while his vice principal Ms Smithson nodded primly.

Erikson sat back in his chair, “personally I think she did the only thing she could, according to Denis those young gorillas deserved more than a boot to the balls. I’m proud of my girl and will be withdrawing both my children from this shithole you two are running.”

“There’s no need for that kind of language Mr Erikson,” the principal said feeling insulted.

“Come sweetheart, lets go home, I’ve a few calls to make.”

“Your lawyers won’t do you any good,” insisted Ms Smithson.

Erikson stopped as he was leaving the room and grinned evilly, “true, but my friend Duchamp at the department of education will.”

“Well really!” exclaimed principal Thornton as he looked at his closed door.

Later after a very interesting phone call to Henry’s friend Frank Duchamp the Eriksons were watching television together. Henry Erikson switched to a current affairs program that opened with a shot of an island they all recognized, in the foreground the commentator was going on about how a new wave of changes might be immanent considering what happened to three local youngsters. They had become the Earth’s first sea elves.

“Oh wow! Elves, that must be cool,” stated Dennis.

“Not really, the long life might be good, but they have few kids and thus tend to treasure and spoil them, young elves tend to act like Timmy or Darla, you know, tike spoiled single kids sure the world revolves round them. Oh and they are famed for being incredibly set in their ways.” Explained Ashes, “and those youngsters will age very slowly from now on.”

“What about dwarves?” asked her mother.

“They very rarely leave their underground cities, I’ve only ever met one and he was a draper. All I know is – her... hers... hearsay – and most of that really doesn’t add up. You know, filthy rich, misers, like to get drunk, argumentative. Drunks tend not to be rich. And if they’re argumentative they tend to get dead. Um.” Ashes stuttered to a stop.

“But they’re slow developers?”

“Um, yes. I think they are recognized to be adults when they hit their thirty-fifth birthday, elves have to be fifty. Um, that’s in Foravill and Badonia, um, humans are considered adult at fourteen so here on Earth that would be at least another ten years for dwarves and even more for elves.”

* * *

Ryan and his buddies had a whale of a time. They ran the dungeon on the mainland twice, the special effects were ace, the traps wickedly hidden and really managed to hinder without hurting, the rats gave just that feeling that there was something just out of sight. The froglings were weird and creepy and their blunt spears could hurt. The best part was the underwater bit, it was awesome how after drinking a potion they could breath underwater.

They returned to the hotel, showered and retired to the bar to chill for a while, then spotting the time on the clock behind the bar they headed to the Gate and emerged in Feira dos Namoradeiros and made their way to the Adventurer’s Guild.

The entrance opened into a large room with notice boards on the wall to the right, a small bar on the left and a long reception desk running stretching across the room at the rear. The doors leading to the Gents and Ladies were clearly signed. A neatly dressed woman behind the counter set down a kindle and rose as they entered.

“Good afternoon, we wanted to know what it would take to join the guild so that we could attempt the dungeon?” asked Ellen when she realized her husband had become tongue-tied.

The clerk smiled and replied with a thick but understandable accent, “you would have to take a test and be assessed, if deemed suitable there is a fee of twenty-five euros.”

“Please could we join?” asked Trevor.

“Just a minute while I call one of the guild officers,” the clerk opened the door behind her and left, she was soon back accompanied by an elven woman with deep green hair and a slight blueish tint to her pale skin.

“Hello, I’m Galianna one of the guild officers, so you wish to join the Guild, welcome and please follow me,” she said gesturing to the door she had just entered by.

Galianna ran the tests and was surprised that two of them had already managed to unlock a class, Ryan was a level one Knight and Jimmy a level two Martial Artist. A quick check with the System informed her that on Midgard a Martial Artist was the equivalent of a Monk anywhere else.

A quick phone call to Simon told her that the group had worked well together, so if the sight blood and the death of the monsters didn’t shock them they should have no problems. She did show them the dead lobster in the trophy room so they would know what lay at the end of the dungeon.

Ryan and his buddies marvelled at the giant crustacean and though apprehensive signed all the paperwork and paid their fees.

“Good,” said Galianna, “we can have the dungeon ready for you tomorrow at any time after nine, when do you want to start?”

Ryan and his friends had a brief conflab and booked the dungeon for ten thirty the following morning, they left the guild clutching their enchanted bronze guild badges that showed their names and status when queried.

* * *

Manny and his family were doing the tourist thing, thanks to Antonio they had free access to his gate network so Lunch in Paris, dinner in London followed by a show in the West end and bed in the hotel. A whirlwind tour of Europe while their friends got all sweaty wielding heavy lumps of iron and wore uncomfortable and heavy armor.