The "Soup Kitchen"

A large and luxurious room, the walls and carpet a luscious deep red with gold trimming. A sparkling chandelier hung above an ornate dining table, covered in a white tablecloth. To the wall in the right was a lone door, wooden and rectangular with a single brass knob.

Faux windows made of stained glass shone, colored light pouring into the room. Animistic patterns of red, blue and yellows can seen in the glass.

Fruit, bread and an assortment of basic foods and ingredients sat in a lone basket with stacks of plates and silverware to its side.

No chairs are to be seen.

Cliff threw his head back and gripped his hips, fighting the urge to double over and succumb to nausea. He was still reeling from... whatever that was. After a few moments, his tongue wasn't smelling the air, his eyes weren't hearing the pants and puffs of others enduring the same ordeal. Still facing upwards, he opened his eyes.

A spectrum of stained glass covered the ceiling, illuminated by an ancient enchantment, or so he guessed. Boar, buffalo, cats, cattle, dogs, foxes, countless creatures could be seen in the artwork. Reds, blues, and yellows stood out the most, but sprinkles of purples, greens, and oranges littered and highlighted key pieces. The simple designs were intentional, Cliff thought, to highlight the centerpiece of the antechamber: The chandelier.

It was beautiful. There wasn't another word to describe the object. The massive piece must've been fifteen feet tall, with at least ten layers. White, glowing beads strung the golden rings together, their luminescence creating the effect of a stack of halos. A small "wow" escaped the Bard's lips.

"Yeah", Mjol said to Roval. "Have at it."

She then turned to Violet, who nodded in return. The pale girl tapped her brooch, vanishing into thin air.

As everyone except Mjol stared at the disappearing Violet, a sudden slam shocked them out of their surprise.

Slowly, they looked to the direction of the sound to the lone door. its frame innocently closed.

Roy grumbled some words. "Poison. I bet they're all poisoned. Why else would we be blindfolded and dragged into this mess? You can all eat the food, I'll be out of this."

Roy leaned against a wall, looking at the others.

The Bard waived the hand-out meal, still observing their surroundings. The brass-knobbed door appeared to be the only entrance or exit to the spacious, sizable room the party found themselves in. It still baffled him how the teleportation magic worked. Was it a modified Call of Home spell? Or perhaps some sort of... His mind wandered. Back to observing. Rich reds, golds, and whites filled the area, giving off an impression of bravery, honor, and nobility.

'Not unlike miss Violet Tepes,' Cliff mused. He thought of his most recent companions, collecting his thoughts.

First, there was Mjol. A Dwarf, but a tall one. A little round, but it fit her figure. Her red-bronze hair tied into two buns, along with her hazel eyes, reminded him of a couple of characters in other stories. She seemed like a sweet person. Maybe a little impressionable. Perhaps she was a stay-at-home wife before the Apocalypse? It'd help explain her charitable personality. And her incredible Guardian equipment. Overall, a good, dependable person as of right now.

He thought about who he met next. Roval Ado -- Rev --, the female Summoner. Not a 90, not that it mattered to him much. Average height, long purple hair, brown eyes. Fairly unremarkable, save for being a little young and a Half-Alv. There wasn't much of an identity to pin to her yet. Well, besides a tad bit of overconfidence. It wouldn't hurt to get to know her better.

Who was next... The male Guardian. Royoko. A little tall, well-built. Short, gray hair, green eyes. He's an untrusting one. Impatient. Another character lacking character, but that might just be how he is. The way he distanced himself from others was unsettling.

The star of the day, Violet the Swashbuckler, crossed his mind. Another purple-haired girl. Cliff wondered if it was a trend. She was a tiny little thing, only four and a half feet tall. Her startling red slits still flashed when he thought about them. A biting charisma, too. Ultimately, the girl seemed elitist, and only accepted the best. 'Bottomfeeders' didn't make sense to him otherwise. Someone worth asking about, but a little intimidating to talk to.

Was that everyone? He bit his lip, counting off his fingers. Oh, the male Summoner! Necrsomething. The beginner player. Another Half-Alv, this one barely talked. Cliff nearly forgot about him. His brown hair and average height made him unexceptional, save for his gun metal green irises. This new life must be even harder at a level as low as his.

His stomach grumbled as wafts of fresh-baked bread reached his nose. Right, food. People need that stuff. Remembering his manners, the cowboy gestured for Ro -- Rev -- to take the first plate.

The sandwich morphed into a jiggling, grey goo mid-bite. Roval's eyes burned at the rancid taste in her mouth.

"I thought everyone knew 'bout that..." Mjol muttered. "Ya can't really cook anythin'. It turns into... that."

She reached under the side of the table and past the cloth, pulling out a thermos. Pouring some water into its cup, the dwarf offered it to the gagging Summoner. "Here, rinse that nasty thing outta your mouth."

Without turning, she gestured at the two males to the mostly untouched food. "Try not to do da' same, alright? Keep it simple and try not ta make somethin' outta it. Either eat it as it is or dun' touch it."

"Now that's new. No, I don't think I've seen that happen before. Cowboy. Go ahead. I'll just go last"

He continued to scan over the room, and muttered more words on how ornate it is. He obviously not liking this, while his stomach and brain are fighting against each other. One wants to eat because it looks good, the other knows it will turn into mush.

Now back to the cowboy. By the way Cliff spoke and dress, he seems to be a well mannered polite guy. Even does task for the Landers. He liked him. Poor cowboy, Roy wished he had a horse with him to keep up his image, but he does visualize from riding off in the sunset with other gunslingers.

Onto the necromancer, there's nothing too interesting about her, her lower level and his first encounter with her sticks in his mind. But, the lower levels also have the most potential in the future. He doesn't know what she can do and pull off during the months ahead. But, he can daydream.

Mjol was next. He didn't have much to say about her. Pretty average dwarf. Not a chore to be around. Overall, a good person for anyone.

Finally, was Violet. He hates people like her. For being the upper class of the game with her expensive gear and all, she doesn't break the stereotype of all rich people being spoiled brats. But, maybe she was poor and weak in the inside and this exterior of expensive gear and such shells it. Who knows.

After all of that he went over to get an apple to eat. Sure it'll taste like bland mush but he needs to shut up his stomach somehow.

Mjol smirked as Royoko's eyes widened, the juice and pulp of the apple sliding down his lower lip.

"Guess that's new ta ya too." She said jovially. "Naah, ingredients themselves actually got taste. So y'all can count yourselves lucky for that there luxury."

The dwarf gave the retching Summoner a soft pat on her back. "There, there. Suppose I shoulda told ya that before ya did it."

Mjol then turned to Cliff, "Well? Go ahead. I did say meal's on."

"I'm comin', I'm comin'." He grinned at the small Guardian, grabbing a plate and assembling his own meal.

Cliff settled on making a sandwich through the menu screen. It gave him a reason for having such a focused face as he thought hard about the situation. Two slices of rye bread. Ingredient items taste normal. He trusted Royoko's reaction. Some lettuce leaves. But did he trust Mjol? She passed the proof test, didn't she? White cheese. No. She refused to tell them who ran the charity, and left the topic alone. A slice of ham. All his 'test' did was convince everyone else to trust her. If this was a trap, if this was too good to be true, his original thought echoed, the trap is here. Pickles.

His pointer finger pressed the "Create" button, poofing his creation into existence. Since it wasn't prepared like the old world's food, it should taste like mush, and not like whatever Rev just tried. No need for a container of water that Cliff didn't fetch himself.

A confused Mjol raised an eyebrow, the question obvious: No flavor? "I'm an immaterial person, and this was my favorite sandwich to make back home." The Bard explained. Another terrifying speculation came to mind. Setting his plate aside, he counted out a hundred gold coins for payment, stacking them neatly into ten sets of ten on the white tablecloth. Nowhere did it say this was free.

He bit down into the vastly overpriced drivel. The flavorless food helped mask his pained expression, realizing just how screwed everyone here might be, and how he was partly to blame, if his gut was right.

"This is a good time to ask, what is everyone's subclass?"

Royoko continued to bite his apple, taking the time to enjoy every second of it, being the only thing with taste that he ever had. But suddenly, he stopped eating the apple. He told himself that everything here would be poisoned. Or was this a trap to catch out people that the Swashbuckler wanted to kill? The female guardian was being too nice. Hiding information from us, something.

Roy threw the half eaten apple away and wanders around the room, examining all the walls and such for anything. To avoid suspicion he grabs a tangerine and slowly opens it as he looks.

All but one things is missing, where is that Swashbuckler?

Mjol opened her mouth but stopped mid-way. She raised her right hand to cup her ear. "Yeah? What?!" Brown eyes went wide as she shuffled to a corner, whispering in a hushed tone.

Despite her usual joviality, Mjol's muffled murmuring was indecipherable.

The dwarf swiftly turned around with a panicked look in her expression. "Sorry, but I've gotta go handle somethin'. Just... just stay put."

She dashed for the door, opening it and passing through with a thunderous slam in its wake.

As the door closed shut, the room shook and trembled. The chandelier above tinkled, glass crystals crashing into one another as it swung back and forth. Food rolled off the table and onto the floor, leaving trails of juices and crumbs.

A loud ripping sound can be heard, as if cloth were tearing apart. Light flashed on and off as the chandelier shrieked, shattering into innumerable shards. The room was now blanketed in a haze of ink-black.

The table creaked and fell over, one of its supporting legs having been broken in the hysteria. The tremors calmed, replaced with a deafening silence.

Slowly, the glass shards began to lit, illuminating the room once more.

The quiet was broken by a faint moaning coming from the center of the space.

On the broken table lain a silhouette of a person. On closer inspection, it was a young woman in her early twenties. She had bobcut, strawberry blonde hair with a single black hair clip in her left bangs. Her fair skin tone was accented by the dim lighting, almost radiant in the ambiance.

She wore an orange bolero jacket with a beige jagged skirt, the collar adorned with a red ribbon. From her thighs and downwards, she bore nothing.

Lashed eyes fluttered before settling unconscious.

Cliff leaned on one wall for support as his other hand flew through the menu screen. It currently hovered over the spell, 'Call of Home'. The unnatural darkness felt all too familiar to Violet's brooch, and Mjol's reaction told him it just might be that.

"Well, as you commented before, I'm a Courier." He continued the conversation, tone unchanging. The cowboy gestured towards the orange-haired woman. "I wonder what the subclass of that individual is." She barely wore anything, just half of a jacket and a tiny miniskirt. Not even shoes.

Royoko was having a little grin on his face. He has finished peeling the tangerine, and still holds it after the room shook.

"Finally, some secrets are being spilled."

He takes his spear off his back and grips onto it with his open hand and shoves the fruit into his mouth, quickly trying to swallow it down. Now, he grabs on the shaft with his other hand hand points the tip at the door.

He paid no attention to the girl that Cliff is talking about, he was just anticipating what could be going on behind that door.

Wearily, olive green eyes opened. The young woman's half-lidded gaze surveyed the room briefly before widening. She pushed herself against the broken table, dragging down whatever was left of the hanging tablecloth by her feet. Her pupils began to dilate as she settled further into hysteria.

With a short yet deep breath, the stranger screamed.

"Shh, you're alright, you're alright." The Bard tried his best to calm the new face. He raised his arms and showed his empty palms at her. Walking slowly forward, his HUD flicked up beside him, showing his name and class. "Hang in there, relax. I'm Cliff. Just sit stand here with me and tell me what you need." He said as soothingly as he could. The others could handle whatever it was they were doing. Right now, this girl required his undivided attention.

A panic attack, he guessed. Collin, the player, remembered a couple of his ballet students having similar reactions to upcoming competitions. After the first, he decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to learn how to handle such a situation.

Oh great, screaming. The one thing that alerts all hostiles to a location. He was startled yes, but wouldn't anyone be?

"Necromancer. Mind if I take the front? Have your summon cover the one who's trying to tend to the girl who just suddenly appeared."

But, he was wondering. How did she appear in this room? Perhaps a glitch in the systems? Or maybe it was planned for her to be here. Was she a lander who was teleported? He gripped onto his spear tightly and walks towards the door.

The girl's screaming finally began to wind down. Her attention had shifted to the bard before her, olive eyes receding to normal proportions.

Now placated and more even breaths, she looked over Cliff, her gaze rising from his open palms to his face.

Her eyes widened and swiftly turned her head to the Summoner. Then to the Guardian.

Jaw hanging and slack, the first words to come from her were,

"What the shit?!"