Walking down the path to the dormitory building was easy enough, but having to turn off the main path to the side entrance was less so. The entrance was set down a large and very sturdy ramp, made out of the same paving as the main paths. Coney was glad for it, for carrying all those carrots was more than hard enough. He walked up and knocked on the door, doing his best to not let the carrots fall.
“Gang…” He said to the air. “I may be in for another punishment. This doesn’t exactly make good content for y'all, unless you’re just masochists looking to make fun of my plight… Well, have fun I guess. I’ll be sitting pretty when y'all join the game and have to deal with your own hardships.
It took five or ten minutes, to the point Coney tried knocking again and considered looking to see if he missed a different entrance, but eventually the door opened and Coney found himself looking into a large storage room. There were vegetables, both fresh and canned. Canned in jars that was, for this game hadn’t decided to add aluminum packaging as far as he could tell.
“Ah, Bunny.” The person who opened the door said. “Come in, come in, I’m so glad to see you.” Coney did what he was told, but was nearly shocked out of his nonexistent socks to see what he saw.
The person who opened the door was in fact the same man he’d seen the day before, but he wasn’t anywhere as angry looking, nor as neatly put together. In fact, he was wearing a poofy white hat and a matching frilly apron over his suit. His voice was also different. He’d had a light french accent that Coney had pretty much ignored, but now it was thick, as if he was slurring his words for some reason. Getting a closer look, he saw that Lawrence’s face was red and flushed. He was either embarrassed for something, or soused. Sniffing his sensitive pink nose, Coney got a whiff of something sweet and slightly sour, the smell of booze on his breath.
“Yeah, It’s me. Are you alright?” He asked, wondering if Lawrence was usually this drunk. It certainly didn’t fit the mental image he’d formed of the man.
“Of course, of course, I am quite alright.” The cook master said, grinning a wide grin. “In fact, I was just taste testing last year’s wine. It’s almost ready for first bottling.”
Wine, that was the fruitiness he smelled. It was unmistakable once he knew what to look for, his master was blasted on the job, and he didn’t know if he was supposed to call him out or what. “Uh, sir… Should you be drinking?”
“Totally fine, I’m not pregnant.” The man said, turning his head to take another sip from a glass in his hand. From that vantage Coney realized that Lawrence had weird ears, pointier than he’d expected on a human. With a shrug, he scanned him.
Lawrence - Elf/Chef
Chef was a class? And Lawrence was an elf? He certainly didn’t seem to advertise that fact. Coney wondered why everyone seemed to be trying to act human. It was weird to him, but then everything around here was weird.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“I wanted to apologize for making you worry yesterday, and to bring you some of the crops you need tonight.” Coney held out the basket of carrots before setting it down.
“Ah, good… Oh, right, that’s quite alright.” Lawrence grinned at him, an expression that looked alien on the man that seemed almost born to be stern and strict. “We worried for your safety, as you didn’t know what you were doing. Only the upperclassmen are allowed to go down there.”
“Perhaps I should seek permission to explore the undercroft. It’s clear there are parts of it that we don’t rightly understand. When I was down there, I didn’t see any evidence that a single soul had been there in ten years, much less any upperclassmen.``
“True, it’s extensive.” The older man burped and shrugged. “Perhaps you may be granted permission, but the only safe parts of the entire underground are here where I work, and over in the Academy archives. Hell, even the church’s underground is known to be unsafe. It’s also where all the upperclassmen test their metal. I’d avoid it entirely, I even have my entrance to that part of the undercroft sealed and locked. Just… be careful.”
“It’s nice to know you care, at least a little bit.”
“Of course bunny, I care about my people, even my lessers… and my lessers’ lessers. Just stay out of trouble.”
“Fine.” Coney said and got up. “Let me know if you need help, at least another day. Today I think I’ll do some research.”
“Quite alright. I’ll just be washing these carrots with the river.”
“Uh, what river?” COney asked, questioning the man’s sanity once more.
“This river.” Lawrence said, waving at Coney to follow as he walked through a portion of the underground bricks to find more of the crystal cold water he’d seen in the culvert. It was flowing steadily.
“Is that what we drink? Because, when I last saw this water there were great big crayfish in it.”
“I clean the water out for drinking, but that’s not the point. It’s a steady source of water that can't be tampered with. Cleaning carrots will be a breese.”
“Riiiight…” Coney said, backing up. “I’ll see you later sir.”
Lawrence nodded in response, and saw Coney out. Once Coney was above ground he sighed, thankful that the interaction had ended without him picking up another punishment. Instead he walked across the central plaza towards the Academy side.
Midway through walking across, Coney stopped to admire the church. It was perfectly built, though rather small compared to the other buildings. He wasn’t sure how large it was, but it certainly didn’t look like it could fit all of the novices here alone.
“Hello child.” A melodious voice came from a nondescript person standing next to the church. Looking closer, Coney realized she was a woman, the first woman he’d seen since coming to the game. Honestly, he’d thought that Abby had some form of gender segregation, or perhaps was strict enough that women weren't even allowed in. Instead, he found himself eye to eye with someone completely different.
Franca - Human* / Mother Priestess
“Uh, Hello.” He said intelligently. She was wearing a darker set of robes than all others he’d seen, closer to a black, matching the darker stone behind her. Her eyes were red, her skin the color of bran.