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Challenge #04908-M159: Deserved Reward

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Published: 08 Jun 2026 › Updated: 08 Jun 2026Challenge #04908-M159: Deserved Reward

Challenge #04908-M159: Deserved Reward

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An all-service spa offers Wraithvine and hir friends the works. Hair Washes, trims, scale-grooming, hoof-polishing, the works. The price? One copper per being. Why so low? It was all about helping people have a good day and be comfortable. Though, people who were rude and entitled WERE charged an "entitlement tax". -- Anon Guest

[AN: I should be keeping track and I have been a naughty bean about doing that. So. The stories this relates to in order: Strictly by Chance, Impact of Concerns, and Essential Learning ]

The place looked like a castle, but its chimneys were active despite the late hour. Bibrid sniffed and said, "Steam. They're parked right over a hot spring."

"A bathhouse," Wraithvine squinted at the distant signage, "And an inn. We could all do with some time in society and civilisation."

"If they'll accept us," muttered Bibrid. One guarding hand found the top of Chance's head. Indicating exactly who the bathhouse-inn might have an issue with.

"I didn't see any signs they'd be inhospitable. In fact, I saw one that tells of their welcome." Ze held hir hands as if offering help, showing the sign ze saw. The sign of Two Kind Hands. This bathhouse was apparently a temple to Wraithvine... or hir efforts in the world.

"What are the odds?" said Bibrid.

"Trust in good fortune, my friend," said Wraithvine.

"I prefer to act in good caution," Bibrid grumbled. Clinging to Chance as strongly as the little Hellkin clung to him.

"Trust in good fortune, and be wary anyway," Wraithvine amended. "A good philosophy. Let us see what we shall see."

The greeter was a Hellkin and, because of the scales patterning their mauve cheekbones, part Dragon. The instant they saw Chance, they rumbled something in Voulspeak. They switched back to the Trader Tongue. "I did not say anything hostile, good people, merely instilling the words of our kind onto the little one. It is a duty for the older to teach the young."

"I understand," said Wraithvine. "You welcome all comers here?"

"Our doors open to any who come in peace. I am Respite and you are welcome to enjoy what you need. An accounting of your stay will be presented when you are ready to leave."

There was every kind of comfort anyone could ask for, including horizontal companionship if it was politely requested. Not that either of the adults would be requesting any. They were still on guard for the catch.

Of course the children went straight for the therapeutic mud pits. Though Chance once again had trouble with the 'disrobing' part of 'bath' as a concept. This time, it was Wraithvine's turn to teach the child how the system worked.

"See?" Wraithvine demonstrated. "We put on just the loincloth and put all our other things in the cabinet. Then we lock the cabinet and keep the key on the wrist band." Ze showed Chance the latch. "So we can open it again and get our things back."

Chance managed a soft, "Ah," and followed suit. More because they were eager to play in the mud rather than confident that their clothes would still be there.

The mud was warm, fragrant, and fluid. Of course, it was messy, because children adored splashing in it. The bathhouse was prepared, since the mud was charmed to slither back to the pit from whence it came. Which, of course, amused the children more.

A different Hellkin staffer tended to Chance's horns, and the skin around where they emerged. Soon having the child in purring delight. "See?" said the ochre-hued Hellkin. "We will not harm you. Will you let me look at your hooves?"

As long as they could play with the mud and help themselves to the abundant snacks, Chance was a happy little Hellkin. They didn't even notice the hasp on their hooves, carefully abrading too much growth down to a more sensible length.

It wasn't just Hellkin as staff. Halfbreds of many types worked in the assorted rooms of the establishment. Of course they were. Unwelcome People tended to adhere to anywhere that accepted them. It was no great shock that so many of them found their way to a Temple of Kind Hands.

"Excuse me," piped an insistant voice with all the charm and allure of fingernails running down a blackboard. "Excuse me? Is there anyone here of a pure heritage? I demand to get my treatment from someone I can trust. I demand to speak to the manager of this alleged resort!"

The people of this temple were tolerant, but there was only so much they were willing to tolerate. Wraithvine could sense the acolytes and staff resisting every urge to retaliate.

"If I may borrow a staff robe?" Wraithvine murmured, "I'll see to it that this person gets the treatment they deserve."

Wicked, anticipatory glee lit the faces of the staff all around hir. "Certainly, Mx," said a Halfbred Harukh. "If you'll follow me?"

Wraithvine entered an enclave as a regular customer. Ze left it in the persona of the haughtiest Elf alive. Replete with the fanciest hairdo that the acolytes could arrange in the quickest possible time. The decorative combs and pins did a lot of the work for an impressive presentation. So too did the elevated heels to give Wraithvine a more impressive height.

Ze looked down hir nose at the objectionable Human. "Who dares disturb the serenity of my house?" While Wraithvine wasn't wrathful, ze implied that wrath could be a possibility in an instant.

At a time long in the past, the ancient ancestors of Humanity had been kept by tribes of Elves as servants, slaves, or pets. There was still an ancestral reflex to grovel at Elven arrogance. This particular example of Humanity resisted it mightily, but there was still a tremble in her knees. "I am from a Noble family," she shrieked. "I demand the absolute best this tacky little whorehouse has to offer! If you actually have a best! I should at least get whatever you expect to receive here!"

"Certainly, Madam," and without another word, Wraithvine summoned hir magic to lift her up in the air. Ze sought out an empty mud pit and thrust her into the middle of it. Then crammed her mouth with too much cake.

She spat her mouthful into the mud. "How dare you! Do you know who I am?"

"Do you know who I am? I am Wraithvine the Eternal, and this is a temple to me. Here. I. Am. The. God." Ze lifted hirself up off the ground, letting an eldritch wind dramatically unfurl hir borrowed robe, allowing magical lightning to coruscate all over hir form. "Dare you defy My will?" To drive the point home, ze held a glowing orb of raw power above each palm, and made hir eyes glow bright red.

That particular aromatic mud pool became further polluted with the smell of urine. "...no sir," squeaked the alleged Noble.

Wraithvine allowed hirself to return to the floor, and eased off hir pyrotechnics. "Very good. Now. My will is that you behave yourself like an exemplary customer. As in, a good example. Do we understand each other?"

"...yes sir."

"And you will help the staff clean up your mess, here."

"...yes sir."

Wraithvine pushed hir mind onto other matters. More favourable matters. If all went well, henceforth, ze would never be bothered by that woman again. Most likely, her 'noble' heritage was from a forgotten king of a collapsed reign some many centuries prior. A thin veneer to excuse her arrogance. Nothing actually real.

If ze wasn't here with hir family, she was going to get a solid lesson in humility.

Wraithvine returned the robe and resumed hir slow intake of finger food while Chance and Scramble amused themselves with the mud.

[Photo by Gala Iv on Unsplash]

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