Location: Mizushima Gaming Corporation, Tokyo, Japan

---

“Should we tell them?”

There was a quiet unease that could be felt in the server room, a long pause emanating between the towering shadows of the computer servers and the administrators who had been sent in to investigate the anomalies in the system—anomalies that would have far-reaching consequences that the company at large was not prepared for. In short, the company that provided a unique virtual reality experience for the general public for a whole year without any major issues had suddenly run into an error that could’ve brought attention to them in the form of litigation and financial ruin. This concern being that the players that were currently logged into Pariah Online were at serious risk in that the integrity of their safety had been compromised; compromised to the point of actual risk of death beyond the simulation.

It was every virtual reality designer’s worst nightmare.

“They deserve to know.”

The other administrator looked to his ‘partner’, a scowl forming on his lips. “Do you want to cause a panic?”

The idea to inform the active playerbase that they could lose their lives if they perished in the game was a double-edged sword; but really, both administrators knew that even if they didn’t tell them they would find out as soon as their healing wards no longer worked on reviving their comrades. It was the kind of scenario that was a legitimate horror movie to the people inside the company and those who had invested into the innovative experiment in the first place. Pariah couldn’t fail—too much money had been put into it and not enough money had been made off it. If the efforts of the administrative team failed to locate an issue and solve it, both of the two people in the server room knew it would be them, not the board, who would be the fall guy for the colossal breach in public safety and trust. It would be them who would be offered up to the proverbial guillotine.

Maybe even the actual guillotine.

“We’re going to have a panic if we don’t.”

There was another pause.

“I am aware.”

The older Japanese man sighed as he went over the data again. He’d have to compose a proper message and have one of the attendants carry it out. But what kind of words wouldn’t result in the game world being at risk? If he said the wrong thing people would die. If he didn’t say anything at all? Well, it would be almost as bad. They didn’t train you for these kind of perils, but he supposed that was the problem with building a game around the technology they had gotten their hands on. He still didn’t completely understand it. Only the creator of the technology did and he had disappeared months ago; a disappearance that made him wonder if it was connected to the glitch infecting the system. But what reason could Toshiro Mizushima have to destroy his life's work?

It was a question he would have to ponder at a later date, at least.

He just hoped that the gamers inside the virtual world would be able to survive long enough for there to be a plan in place...

Location: The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

For most of Pariah’s denizens the City of Thorinn was one of the last of the major cities in the known kingdom, sitting on the edge of Thoros, the spiraling riverbed that made up the natural border between the unknown and civilization. Sitting as one of the several outposts that persisted on the edge of the nation that every man, woman, and child called home: The Kingdom of Aetheria. That said, despite Thorinn’s stature and status it wasn’t truthfully a place anyone could call small. That much was supported by the census office and their citation claiming that the city held an estimated population of one hundred and eighty thousand denizens in total.

But despite Thorinn’s capaciousness it did not afford it the absolute safety from the threats of the world at large outside of a comfortable shelter from the stray monster and usual collection of nomadic raiders and bandits. The city would most certainly have a challenging time defending itself had an abyssal or colossal creature made a venture out of destroying the city. And if a dungeon erupted from the earth nearby? The city would’ve needed dire help in that case. And as much as the residents of the kingdom didn’t like relying on the strangers from beyond the veil, those wayfarers, drifters, and outsiders had been the only ones to be able to stop the phenomena that had begun only a few months before their much needed appearance some time ago.

It would be fitting that in only a few days the people of Thorinn would realize this when a structure appeared nearby, standing suddenly in the forests that overlooked the city itself like a threatening beacon and declaration of war. It wouldn’t take long for monsters to start appearing. It would be up to the good will of the outsiders and the city’s Guild of Acquisitions to save them from a potential horde.

They had no other choice.

“Oi. Is this the place?”

The ginger-haired warrior cracked his neck as he looked ahead at the lodge in front of him and his companion, a brown-haired girl who seemed to be as unamused as his hair was red.

“That depends entirely on what place you mean, Siegfried.”

“You know what I mean, Sif, stop bein’ all weird. This where we get the gig?” Siegfried groaned in annoyance as he looked to the smaller, brown-haired girl over his shoulder.

“My dearest, lovable, idiot brother. Of course it is. This is a Wayfarer’s Retreat, after all. The Guild told us this is where the summons came from and you do know a dungeon did appear only a few days ago. You know why we are here.”

When the dungeon appeared on the outskirts of Thorinn a beacon had been sent to the Guild of Acquisitions, the so-called adventurer’s guild of the world of Aetheria. As a result a group of wayfarers was needed to clear it, as was their role in the world.

The raid leader, whomever they were was opportunistic and quick. Admittedly, Siegfried felt nervous since it seemed like the person in charge wanted to swoop in before any other groups could beat them to the punch. It made sense, he supposed, but it would pretty much limit the options of who was going to be part of the group. Then again, maybe he was lucky. If his sister had not heard of the grouping then he would still be in some village a day out from Thorinn playing blacksmith for a bunch of denizens. So he shrugged and opened the door in front of him as other had done before him.

Couldn’t have been long for the raid to start. Hope he wasn’t late.

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

“That’s two more. That’ll make nine, including Aaginim.”

“And? How many people does blondie think he needs for this dungeon? I’ve run others with less.”

Rael, a red-headed wayfarer yawned as she looked over the crowd congealing in the tavern. Well, it wasn’t a tavern or even a brothel. It was like a faction hall, except the only denizens included were bartenders and maids. Not her typical joint, but for some reason guild types preferred to gather in them. She wondered why they didn’t just sit in an acquisitions guild or regular old bar. Maybe they didn’t like the riff-raff. Too many ‘NPCs’ in their way.

She eyed, the wayfarer who had started up a dialogue, though she could feel his eyes on her even when her back was turned. He was one of the few who had greeted her since she arrived, what with all of the big names recognizing her and not the type that warranted compliments. It didn’t bother Rael one bit, though. Better to be hated or feared than to be a nobody. There was nothing worse in this world or the one outside of it than to be not known. That said, even she had to admit she didn’t like the way Enos looked at her. But nobody was going to white knight someone who had caused trouble like Rael had in the past. She was an almost-pariah. She snorted at the thought, maybe that’s why she fit in with a game called Pariah Online?

“I guess however many Aaginim thinks he needs. Probably is going to split off into two raid groups for the party. Maybe three. We don’t know anything about this new dungeon… it’s not in the usual spot. Doesn’t even look right.”

“So you’ve scouted it out?”

He shook his head, “I haven’t. Leaves and Luci have.”

“Luci’s here?” Rael groaned, “She’s still mad about The Tower of Adala.”

“You made off with the most valuable item while everyone was recovering.”

“Yeah? So? You guys weren’t gonna use it.”

“I guess you haven’t changed.” Enos laughed, “You know I can put in a good word for you.”

“I can handle myself. This is an emergency job and I am one of the best dungeoneers in this room. They know it, I know it, you know it.”

He shrugged, “Guess we’ll find out.”

‘Yeah, I guess we will.’ Rael thought as she raised a glass of wine to her lips as she looked around the room to see who else she recognized.

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

A lone hunter stumbled into Thorinn with a great weight upon his back. He was a mighty figure built like an oak tree-- tall and broad and ever sturdy-- yet it seemed his strength was failing him. The burden he bore was several times his size. It was a mass of sickly pale scales, hanging bits of gore and ligaments and broken bone. Two great eyes like red orbs stared back at those who walked behind the hunter, unblinking, empty. Chains wrapped about the severed head bound it to the man that carried it.

He had pursued the thing through the wilderness for three weeks. It had struck the killing blow against the hunter twice throughout their game, yet he kept up the chase all the same. Such was the endurance of wayfarers: not even death could stop them. Not permanently. The beast could neither hide nor fight by the end of it; it was too bloodied to do anything more than whimper in its nest as that wicked nodachi relieved its shoulders of its head.

In whatever afterlife Pariah provided its monsters it could look down with some irony-driven revenge as its corpse harried its killer. The head's weight had collapsed the man's horse three days earlier, forcing him to bear it all on his own. What should've been a short journey to a just reward transformed into a perilous, monotonous trek up the main road to Thorinn, where every day there came the risk of someone coming along to steal the proof of his triumph for themselves.

By the grace of lady luck that never came to pass. There were even some that stopped on their own journeys to offer the hunter help in carrying his quarry home. It annoyed him. More annoying was when they insisted that it was no trouble, not understanding that he wasn't being polite. He wasn't going to be climbing into anyone else's cart with such a valuable bounty chained to his back; their hearts would only stay good until they realized the value of what he carried. Regardless, he didn't need the help.

Or so he told himself every time he fell to knee along the road, his legs nearly buckling under him each time.

But the ordeal was over now, for he'd made it into Thorinn and the bounty office was a mere hop and skip from the front gate. There, he dumped the now-rotting carcass into the hands of some poor denizens schmucks that worked for the acquisition officer, who paid Graves handsomely for his trouble.

'Good Lord do I need a break.'

Tired feet carried him back across town, toward his favorite little drinking hole: the Wayfarer's Rest. It didn't have the best drinks, or the best beds, or the best people. The work there was usually interesting, though not consistent. No, it was his favorite because of the one thing it didn't have.

He beat his boots against the door frame to rid them of the dust of the road before pushing the door out of his way, stepping inside.

The front room was more crowded than usual, and not with the same do-nothings he was used to seeing around here. They were well-armed and gathered 'round for what sounded like talk of business. There was one woman in particular who reminded him of a mammoth who was making particularly loud talk. Was she actually taller than him? 'Tch.'

Graves pretended he wasn't intrigued by it and walked up to the bar to order himself a drink. He'd keep his eyes toward it, but his ears were focused elsewhere.

Location: Fountain Square -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Kazuki was going to make them late.

”Look, if you want to finish your little performance, go ahead. But I’m going to check us in at the Wayfarer’s Retreat. I added the location as a waypoint for our party; so you can’t get lost.” His brother’s little concerts were impressive enough that other players did enjoy watching them. Hell, they’d received a few guild invites because of Kazuki’s popularity-okay, not they just Kazuki. Raid groups didn’t hate Kazuma-Benkei’s-skills as a tank. In fact he was an extremely reliable tank in most dungeons and encounters.

It was the attitude that rubbed groups the wrong way.

”The DPS died during the trash pull. That’s unacceptable.

The off-tank didn’t pull the right groups. It took us 15 seconds longer than average to defeat this boss.

The DPS isn’t committing enough damage to skip the second phase. If you can’t parse, why the hell are you even playing the game?

Kicked. Removed. No commendations. This was normal. People needed to play perfectly if they wanted to be the best, and these chumps were in it for “fun” and to “relax”. They had no idea how important it was to be regarded as a top player. As a reliable tank. As someone people could look up to. Accepted.

Kazuki was the opposite. His brother was more concerned with mastering the music in the game than healing in dungeons. And being forced to carry his older brother through these events while shouting down everyone else? It hadn’t made a good impression on anyone.

Benkei made his way into the Wayfarer’s Retreat. Even though he’d customized his avatar, he’d spent hours making the avatar resemble himself IRL. In a world where everyone else made themselves look fantastic and wonderful, Bekei’s obsession was making himself look...well, like himself. It didn’t matter that his avatar looked a little silly with the oversized sword nearly the size of its wielder. He wanted to be the best version of himself in the game, since outside he was...well, he was Kazuma. Second son, second best, completely forgettable and average.

But here?

He scanned around the room, surprised at some of the top level players that had been invited. He’d recognized a few of them; he had to know the competition he faced in his dream of becoming number 1. He found a seat away from the group, eyeing up the ones talking and chatting amongst themselves. Raids were cooperative experiences, but in his mind, it was just as much player vs player as any arena match. These people were his competitors on his journey to become the best. There was the one girl; the tank everyone hated. Still, she was one of the best in the game, and it made sense she’d be invited here to complete a raid before anyone else knew about it.

There were other big names showing up as well. Former members of famous guilds, players who just wound up in nearly every party eventually...all sorts. Benkei wondered if they’d be reliable.

Location: The Wayfarer’s Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Kalie was outside of the Wayfarer’s Retreat, watching people entering it, remembering that she should actually go into it. It is mostly because she is apart of the raid group to the dungeon that opened outside of the city. She didn’t like announcing her presence to many people since it's better to be quiet and stealthy, like what she usually does. Therefore, she gently opens the doors to the Wayfarer’s Retreat, and it always amazes her this place kind of looks ran down and needed a bit of a renovation.

’ Hopefully, that Giantess isn’t here yet...’ Kalie thought to herself, without scanning around the room. She scanned around the room and noticed the Giantess herself sitting at a table near the smug bitch of a tank and deeply sighed in annoyance. Her hope was dashed instantly, but everyone has their chance in the sun. She did see others who didn’t enjoy entering the Wayfarer’s Retreat because of her infamy in the Pariah Online. All she did was wave to everyone in the place and quietly walked to the table with Alja and Rael.

”Aha, what a pleasant surprise to see you two, healthy. How long has it been since we’ve been together in a raid or spoken to each other?” Obviously, her snobbish noble act was leaking throughout her words. Her ignorance was bleeding through, or it could be something more. She took the third seat out of four at the table and looked a bit at Alja with a, please don’t look on her face. However, she did know who did contact her with a proposal; it was the bastard Aaginim. ” A helpful guy, it seems Aaginim is. I couldn’t refuse the call since how am I able to get what I want to create the finest clothes or leather armor… Ugh, everyone has their price for something.” In her voice, she didn’t see eye to eye with Aaginim, but it's better than sitting still and doing nothing.

Kalie then remembered she hadn’t reintroduced herself if they were going off following her outright roleplay as a kind of a snobby bitch of a noble. ” Always a virtue is saying your name, my name is Kalie Augustine, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” It was one thing she likes to do even though the rowdy one was here and loud and annoying, as usual. She has other goals in mind, but some other type of fun can always be done.

" Oh yeah, I should really get a drink, Waitress can I have what everyone else is having?" She asked nicely towards one of the waitresses walking around in Wayfarer's Retreat. It wouldn't be a good idea not to have something to drink.

' I do hope, Alja doesn't touch me because it would tick me off a bit.' She thought in her head while staring up at the ceiling slightly. It always annoys her that Alja is so physically touchy, so she decided to do her patented smile. The smile was a bit more sinister than usual. Kalie wondered how the two would react to it, probably each with different reactions.

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Alex had been something of an outlier in his brother's guild ever since the start of his adventures in Pariah. Logan and co. were actual gamers, with years and even decades of experience under their belts. Alex was sure they'd already been acquainted with this world more than the real one, geography and history and women and all. Their little PvE guild had taken Alex in as an auxiliary member under his brother's request, and he could tell he was starting to overstay his welcome.

But no more. This mysterious dungeon would be his rite of passage, the proof that he was finally able to stand on his own two feet. Even as he took tense steps towards the faction hall, fantasies of finally earning everyone's respect ran through his mind. This little stint would be a secret to them until he got out of that dungeon a changed man.

His arms stretched outwards, and he gently opened the door to the retreat as he beamed with joy. His hands, adorned with beautiful gauntlets matching his elegant archer's attire, made sure to gingerly close the door behind him so as to make a wonderful first impression.

And then he saw the other wayfarers.

Muscles. Big, bulging, scary muscles. Weapons a size men couldn't- and shouldn't have been able to wield, weighing more than Alex did. Tankards of beer being raised to hardened faces. Even the ones that weren't ginormous carried an identical level of swagger, with some intimidating facial expression or bizarre weapon on their person. Conversations were happening, not very pleasant ones if their tones were anything to go by.

A nerve-wracking sight, definitely. But he was dead set on doing this.

"Uh... hey guys! We're all here for the raid thing right?" He asked, getting close to the surprisingly large group with a hop to his step. He pulled his chair out slowly, so as to not damage the floor by scraping it harshly, and sat with a grin on his face.

Location: The Wayfarer’s Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

This was quite a gathering.

Seele was used to large groups. Plenty of the raids she’d participated in were full-house clears, and she’d spent a considerable amount of time around strangers, who had only really remained strangers as long as it took them to get acquainted.

Still, this wasn’t her normal gig. Seele had never trailblazed new content before. Sure, she’d never been far behind, but arriving on day one to raid alongside seasoned veterans was out of her normal wheelhouse. In a way though, it was at least a bit familiar. None of them were new, but in the same way, none of them had ever encountered this dungeon before. Progression raiding was different, but perhaps it could still be exciting.

With graceful steps, Seele entered the Wayfarer’s Retreat and surveilled the players present. Sure enough, she didn’t recognize a single one, at least from personal experience. Plenty of them she’d seen plastered on various leaderboards for all sorts of content, both PvE and—she shuddered—PvP, but as best she could recall, Seele had never partied up with any of them.

Good, she thought happily. New faces. New friends.

In the back of her mind she had doubts, still, about coming to something like this. She wasn’t normally welcome at new content, especially brand new content, and it unsettled her a bit. Already she could hear the complaints. “Where’s your off-damage?” “Wait she doesn’t even have any healing spells!” Bro if this chick doesn’t start actually playing she’s getting kicked.”

No, no. No. She was being pessimistic. Seele was more than capable of contributing to this raid, and that aside, there were likely plenty of healers as well. This was going to go just fine, and if it didn’t, she was sure they’d get it eventually.

Not far away, a few of those distantly-familiar faces were converging. She recognized a couple of them as tanks—with somewhat unsavory reputations, she thought, but oh well. Others she didn’t know at all, but they were quickly making themselves memorable. One titan of a woman was making a show of drinking and cajoling with the red-headed girl. With them was another girl who seemed to be something of a chatterbox. That was nice, Seele loved listening to people talk. All of the wayfarers here probably had mountains of stories to tell, and were she a woman with less self-control, she might have just gone around asking after all of them.
Mi...ssy...
But there would be time for that later, maybe even in the dungeon itself. Perhaps they’d be split into smaller groups, which would certainly make getting to know her team easier. For the moment though, she took a seat at a longer table and set down a small woven box atop it. From within she pulled a small stack of sandwiches, along with a little hand-drawn sign that said: “Lesser feasts! All it costs is a smile!”

The buffs her food offered would be negligibly-minor, and might not last very long into the dungeon if they didn’t depart soon, but she liked to offer them anyway. Food could taste just as good inside Pariah as it did outside, and while Missy herself wasn’t much of a cook, Seele…well, alright, Seele had bought most of the recipes from low-level vendors, but darned if she hadn’t put the sandwiches together herself.

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

“The orbiter is Enos.”

She motioned to across the room, toward Aaginim and the people around him.

Enos, despite his preference for running with women he personally found attractive, was a mainstay of Aaginim’s group. Enos played healer in the back-lines, though he was competent as DPS if he needed to defend himself. He played like some kind of agile cleric.

“He’s Club Aaginim. You didn’t notice him a few months ago because he was in the rear flanks.” She paused, looking at him, “As he likes to be.”

Enos eyed Rael, giving her a ‘what’s that supposed to mean’ look, before clearing the air. “Yes, that’s me. Enos the Silver Guardian. Ranked 17th in healer’s all-time. Pleased to meet you, Alja. Again.”

Rael took a drink of the ale in front of her as the two continued their small-talk. Enos wasn’t lying. He was one of the better healers she’s had, though his reputation as being a little handsy was well earned. The reason he was a pariah was pretty clear. Man needed a cold shower. Maybe twelve. But it was what it was. Rael didn’t make a habit of caring so much. After all, he never tried to push boundaries too much, even when PvP was toggled. He was more of a voyeur than a predator. She wasn’t too surprised Alja didn’t remember him. But then again, Alja was kind of a dunderhead. A very loud one who tended to take the spotlight away from moments that Rael personally liked to have. It’s why she had been going out of her way to avoid places Alja liked to travel to. They hadn’t worked with each other in months. But, shit happens and she was likely stuck in another queue with the off-tank.

Could’ve been worse.

“Aha, what a pleasant surprise to see you two, healthy. How long has it been since we’ve been together in a raid or spoken to each other?”

And it got worse.

As if interacting with someone she disliked being around and that one of the principal members of raid didn’t like Rael personally was bad enough, there had to be another wrench thrown into the machine. Kalie “Augustine” was another person Rael didn’t particularly like. Fake smiles galore. Basically the exact image of the girl’s at Tokyo U that got more attention than her but more bubbly, blonde, and pretty.

Rael ignored her initial smalltalk, grabbing her now empty tankard off the table.

“Don’t mind me. Getting more ale.” Rael uttered bluntly, trying not to show her initial annoyance, leaving Alja, Kalie, and Enos to talk amongst themselves.

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

“Well, we’re not here for a jamboree. What’d you think it was, kid?”

The brown-haired girl with twin-tailed rolled her eyes as Alex sat down near them, “Excuse my brother, he has the intelligence of a drunk chimpanzee. But yes, this is the queue for the new dungeon. By my estimations we are only missing a few people before we reach an optimal number for a blind run.”

“Numbers shumbers, I want to crack some heads already!”

Siegfried was being Siegfried again. This was something that Sif knew well given her brother’s lack of patience was pretty tantamount to expected behavior unless it came to his side-projects. This translated typically in the game with him being impulsive and brutish with base content but exceedingly pedantic and meticulous when it came to sword and armor-crafting. In many ways he was the mirror opposite of her. She was meticulous, analytical, and patient with the base content whereas she didn’t put much stock or care into gathering of materials or refinement of them. For an alchemist, she most often just relied on the materials in town markets and used basic recipes rather than experimenting on her own. She just didn’t see a point in something that wasn’t very exciting—and she very much found dungeoneering the most exciting mathematical quandary in-game.

She supposed that was why she was going for a mathematics major once she graduated from High School.

She smiled warmly as she made a comment at her brother's expense, “Like I said. A drunk chimpanzee.”

“I think I'm a rather sober chimpanzee, Sif.”

The twin-tailed girl sighed. “Anyway. Have you been in Thorinn long, Mr. Ranger? You do many blind runs?”

“I’unno. They don’t look that geared up. Better not be a noob.”

The brown haired girl smacked her brother upside the head, smiling as he grumbled a “ow” as she did so.

While her brother did have a point, Sif didn’t quite agree. The ranger before her didn’t look like he wasn’t geared up, but rather his gear wasn’t particularly elite. If she had to guess he was probably an intermediate dungeoneer, maybe only a tier below them. Siegfried may have acted like the 1% but Sif knew that all of that was all bark. They were intermediate players. Nothing more, nothing less. Besides, if he scared off the ranger that would mess up Sif's numbers and she was not about to have that.

“Siegfried, please don't be an asshole. That's why you have no friends.” She commented before reasserting her point before, “This wouldn't be our first, but don't make my brother's bullheadedness fool you, we're nowhere near the top of the leaderboards. I imagine you're plenty experienced by the look of your weaponry. You aren't using a beginner's quiver, after all.”

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Graves finished off his drink just as some pipsqueak sauntered up to the bar for a refill. She was the one that'd attracted so much attention earlier-- odd, considering he knew everybody worth knowin', and he didn't know her. At a glance he couldn't tell if she was irritated or just had one'a those faces, so he decided not to press his luck and pushed off the counter the moment she'd gotten there. "Welcome to another of Aaginim's classic clusterfucks." He snickered, giving her a quick too-hard slap to the shoulder just as he walked off. "Good luck!"

Circling around to avoid the two fightin' blondes at the center of the room, Graves continued to take in the various side conversations. They were a motley lot of players: some of 'em were greener than grass, others looked like they could break the top twenty on their best days. More the former than the latter, Graves guessed. Too few in number to challenge that new dungeon that'd popped up outside of Thorinn. Dungeon delving had never been one of his specialties, but he had the cursory knowledge to know this group needed a little more experience if it wanted to succeed.

'I really am the good Samaritan, coming upon the broken man on the road. What could they do without me?'

The truth in his self-aggrandizing theory was only further cemented in his mind when he came upon a mage, sat alone with her lesser feast already summoned. She was one of the newer Wayfarers, then. Or woefully under prepared for a raid like this. Graves approached with an obnoxious swagger in his stride, throwing a leg over the bench across from her and straddled it rather than sit like a normal human being. "You know," he plucked one of the sandwiches from the basket and stuffed it into his gullet, "shtish shtuff's gonna run outh before we even get shtere."

He swallowed it in maybe two bites before grabbing a second. Useless, sure, but admittedly quite tasty. "Ya always buff up right outside'a the dungeon, kid. This your first time doin' this kinda thing? I mean, not to knock ya or anything, but..."

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Good Luck!

Rael clenched the fist that was holding onto the tankard as the denizen filled her up, her eyes coldly reflecting upon the man who had just bumped her in the shoulder.

No, that wasn’t the death sentence. The death sentence was presuming her to be a noob—to not recognizing her. She had spent a lot of time to build her reputation as one of the most vilified and begrudgingly respected players in the world of Aetheria and not even the infamous Graves knew who she was? No. It was a slight. It was intentional. Her brows narrowed and her façade of being in a good mood faded. She smirked, a long fang appearing in full view as she decided to follow Graves to the table to the spellcaster she didn’t recognize instead of returning to the conversation with Alja and Kalie. IN a few moments, Rael saw that the meek witch girl was selling sandwiches, for a smile. It was stupid. Was she pretending to be a denizen shilling for wayfarer coin?

Rael shook her head, it didn't matter. What did matter was Graves had decided in his infinite wisdom to torment her, but Rael wasn't a hero. She wasn't here to step in for the good of all sandwiches. This was personal.

Appearing behind Graves, she cleared her voice. “You know, you really shouldn’t be picking on NPC’s.”

Whether he decided to turn his head or not, the result was the same as Rael turned the tankard of freezing cold ale on its side as the cool liquid dumped downward over his head.

“Oops.”

Location: The Wayfarer’s Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

One or two nervous-looking wayfarers had come by to pluck from the meager stack of sandwiches, and Seele had given them smiles and encouragement as they went on their ways. There certainly did seem to be more buzz around this dungeon than she’d initially thought, but that was fine. She played this game for a challenge, she wasn’t about to back down from one now.

Eventually the inevitable happened, and someone came along who, either from intrigue or boredom, decided that conversation would pair well with the food she offered. Which was great! Granted, the man had opted to enjoy both in tandem, but there were worse things than someone who couldn’t decide between speaking and swallowing.

Seele smiled at his advice. Fair enough that he thought she was green, she was the one pitched up with lowbie food in the middle of a progression queue. He snatched up a second sandwich, and while she instinctively wanted to ask him to save some for the others, again, it was lowbie food. More for taste than stats. He must have known that too, so then he had enjoyed it, right? She supposed that was good enough.

“Ah, not my first time, no,” she said lightly. “Though I’ll admit to being newer to progression, so no offense taken! You look like you know your way around a dungeon though, maybe you could share some pointers with me? Want to make sure I’m ready as can be in case we’re—oh, hello! Would you like a sandwich?”

Seele recognized the girl again as one of the tanks with a…dubious reputation. Not a problem. Not only had she never met the girl before, but regardless of her past, Seele was always ready to offer out the hand of friendship—or in this case, the sandwich.
Rain…
But she didn’t get that chance. First the girl made a somewhat disparaging remark, and then without warning, she emptied her flagon over the head of her newest friend. With a hard blink, Seele leaned back in her seat and pulled the basket and stack of sandwiches to her side of the table, out of the splash zone.

“Oh dear,” she mumbled. “That’s going to stain.”

Location: Wayfarer’s Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

"I'm here, It looks like I'm in time for...what are we doing here again?"

Benkei wanted to buy his face into his hands. How many times did he have to explain in-game concepts to his older brother? Wasn’t it the older son’s responsibility to be more knowledgeable about the world? Still, this was a game, and it wasn’t piano, which meant it was far away from anything in Kazuki’s wheelhouse.

“We’re going to tackle brand new content, specifically a raid that no one has completed yet.” He scanned the room as more people entered. Here came the clingers he thought, the players who couldn’t perform at the top on their own and used top tier players to help them reach the top. "And here come the parasites,” Benkei grumbled in a low tone. His older brother was just one step above a parasite since he actually healed; at least sometimes.

“The most important thing is that we get that clear. If there’s any healer gear, we both roll for it, and I can trade it with you. I’d like your cast speed to be up by two percent so we can start tackling even higher level content-” He caught his brother before the older one could sigh,“which all you have to do is keep healing me. I’ll handle the mobs, like always.”

The female tank-the rude one-she was already causing trouble, which caused Benkei to twist his mouth into a slight smirk. “At least I’m not the one starting fights tonight.”There’d be time enough for that later.

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

“You know, you really shouldn’t be picking on NPC’s.”

Graves hadn't even finished turning his head to face Rael when he felt something splash across his head. Ale ran down his face-- gathering in his eyes-- and down his back, drenching his clothes. Its stench would cling to the armor for days. He leapt to his feet, shoving the table back and into the mage in the process. His blood was running hot, his cheeks as bright red as his burning eyes. A hand went to the hilt of his sword: that massive, wicked thing that had cleaved the head from a basilisk not a week prior.

He took one step forward, closing the distance. There was more than a foot difference in their height; he had to stoop down just to look her in the eye. "You think I won't split you in half you insufferable, little bi-"

Before he could even finish threatening the half-pint somebody stepped in between them. A hand the size of a baseball mitt pressed against Graves's chest, pushing back back outta Rael's face. The anger on his face only grew as he had to take a step back to allow Alja to stand between the two of them. She went on to talk, a lot, but it was obvious he wasn't listening. Graves's eyes never left the one that had started this; she'd gone out of her way to humiliate him in front of the whole raid and then had the audacity to cower behind her bigger friend.

Alja finished her diatribe and put a hand on Graves's shoulder, like some half-assed attempt at camaraderie. He reached up and took her by the wrist, leaning close to her. "Stop protecting her." He sneered, shoving her hand off. "You think she can get away with that and I'll just bend the fuck over?"

He looked, then, to Rael. "How 'bout we step outside n' settle this, huh? Or are you really the coward they say you are, Rael?"

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

“You aren’t my fucking babysitter, ice queen.” Rael snarled, as her hand twitched. Normally in these kind of situations she would have already pulled up the console commands and toggled PvP.

The only reason she hadn’t already toggled it and opened up an attack was out of begrudging respect for Aaginim and the prospect of being the first one inside of a new dungeon. As inflamed as her pride was at the moment, she couldn’t help but keep that in the back of her mind. Her brows narrowed further and she clenched her fists. She was about to answer Graves when another voice cut through the crowd. Loud and intolerant. Angry.

Rael turned toward the door and her eyes met the voice’s.

“If either of you toggle PVP anywhere you’re out of the fucking raid!”

In the shadow of a newly opened door there stood Luci—or as she titled herself, Luci the Divine Lady of Swords and Song. Standing beside her was a pink-haired wizard with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised, to her right was a smiling green-haired archer. Rael knew them well enough; Leaves was a skilled DPS and dungeoneer and the mage, Priscilica, was probably more trigger happy than everyone in the entire hall and that was without mentioning her own temper. With that in mind, Rael groaned knowing that two of the three were just waiting for a reason to have their boots meet her ass. She knew it, most everyone knew it, and with Enos’ warning earlier it was this time that Rael decided not to press her luck.

“Yeah. Okay, whatever. I don’t fight incels, anyway.” She retorted with a scoff. before turning her back and heading back towards the bar.

She could hear the conversation unfold as she put distance between them.

The pink-haired wizard eyed Graves as Rael moved away. “What about you, chuckles? Do you still want to dance? ‘cause I got a fireball with your name on it.”

Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Graves already had his console up and a finger hovering over the go button when a voice caught his attention. It was Luci, barking orders like a drill sergeant, backed up by Pris' and Leaves. They were Aaginim's groupies. Any threats they made would actually be backed up, unlike the rest of these schmucks. Graves broke eye contact with Rael and looked over to them, gauging how much this raid mattered to him. Was it worth taking a hit to his ego? Or should he draw anyway and try his luck?

That last dagger as she turned away caused him to grind his teeth and let just an inch more steel kiss the air. He was really thinking about it.

The wizard, Priscilica, seemed able to read his intentions, warning him against it. 'I got a fireball with your name on it,' she quipped.

Finally a heavy sigh left his lungs just as his hand left his sword. It was still horrifically embarrassing. His cheeks-- and eyes-- were on fire. He wasn't going to forget it anytime soon. But that was a fight for another day. Graves put his hands up in Pris's direction to let her know he was through, stating: "Yeah, yeah, we're through. Hope you don't get stuck with her."

His attention shifted back to the table behind him, and the poor newbie that'd gotten stuck in the middle of that mess. "Uhh...sorry, uh, about that." He coughed, grabbing the edge of the table and pulling it back to where it was once before.

God damn did he need a towel.

Location: The Wayfarer’s Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Well this was escalating poorly.

Seele lost a bit of wind when the table lurched against her, but more importantly, the angry man’s sudden spring into action had knocked her basket and sandwiches onto the floor. She tried to snatch at them as they fell but, well, dexterity wasn’t her forte. She managed to pinch one of them by the corner though, before the stone was seasoned with ham and cheese and that tangy sauce she’d bought on her way into Thorinn from an utterly delightful denizen. Sad, but, oh well. Spilt milk and all that. She tucked the sole survivor of the sandwich massacre away and scrambled out from her position nearly under the table just in time for thunder to strike.

No, wait, not thunder—bootsteps. The woman she’d seen before, the exceptionally large one, must have stormed over the very moment things had turned sour, because she was already between them by the time Seele was back on her feet. Her chest tightened for a moment, fearing the worst, when she realized that the woman wasn’t joining in, but rather defusing, or trying to at least.
Please…
She had a loud voice, and so her points were just about impossible to ignore—although it seemed to Seele that the ornery man was attempting to. More than a few times on her journeys, Seele had encountered people like this woman: big, presence, big weapons, bigger hearts. Always a breath of fresh air to see players who hadn’t been jaded by their experience.

Unfortunately, the effort did little to ease the tension. Both the man and the girl were having none of it, and Seele had a sinking feeling that the Retreat was about to become a battleground.

“If either of you toggle PVP anywhere you’re out of the fucking raid!”

Or not.

The first word that came to mind when Seele saw the new trio approach was ‘authority,’ and, clearly, she wasn’t alone. Like a licked wick, the burgeoning fight was snuffed before it even had the chance to start. The tension remained, but that was expected. Seele had run more than a few raids with members that couldn’t stand each other, this was still doable even if the two of them were paired up together. It…hurts…

Either way, it was over. To Seele’s pleasant surprise, the man came back and shimmied the table back to where it had been. He seemed remorseful, or at least embarrassed. Hopefully this was a lesson learned for him, but she wasn’t about to give him some kind of lecture after all of that. Instead, she smiled and waved off his apology.

“It’s really no problem, I’ve faced greater foes than tables and emerged victorious before. Here,” she offered the sandwich, ham and cheese, last of his name. “One more for the road?”

With that settled, Seele set about cleaning up the mess her impromptu picnic had become. Sure, there were probably denizens ready to sweep and mop, but she was here, and in some way it felt a little bit like her responsibility.