Arika groaned. “Tell us!”

“Fine, fine. I, my friends, am… a…”

He spread his arms wide and raised his head to the sky—looking for all the world like a televangelist about to unleash the holy gospel.

“Priest!” Honeypot bellowed the word, then breathed out with a deep sigh—as if letting it out relieved a great burden.

Following the declaration, silence hung in the room.

Arika was the first to make a sound.

A low noise came from her throat that slowly rose in pitch, climbing until it bubbled over and she began cackling. She laughed so hysterically that Orion couldn’t help but join in. Seeing the usually serious young woman lose control was too much for him.

Soon, they were all laughing, tears making Orion’s vision blur and swell as he tried to catch his breath. Shadow held a counter for support, Arika laughed to the sky, and Honeypot was crying, face contorted hideously as he tried in vain to keep a straight face. When he could no longer remain stoic, he had to hide his face in the sofa as his body shook with mirth.

“The worst part…” Arika took deep breaths to hold the laughter at bay. “Is that I believe you. Of course you’d be a priest. Why wouldn’t you be?” She laughed again, unable to control herself. “Okay. So, you’re a priest. What kind of priest has stealth, no heal, and gallivants around the forest saving damsels in distress?”

“You’re a terrible priest,” Orion said, causing them to lose control once more.

“Well,” Honeypot said when he’d somewhat regained his composure, “I wouldn't say that I ‘gallivant’ around. I’d say that I patrol my domain, sewing the seeds of chaos—I’m a priest of chaos, after all, and with that in mind, I’m a good priest, thank-you-very-much.”

Arika snorted. “Can’t argue there.”

“If you’re a priest of chaos,” Orion asked, “does that mean there’s a god of chaos?”

“Not that I can tell, no.” Honeypot rubbed his aching cheeks. “Unless you deify the very concept of chaos.”

“Were you given a choice?” Arika asked. “Did they give you an option to choose what you were a priest of? What kind of degenerate would choose chaos? I mean, you are a degenerate… no offense, but still…”

“None taken!” Honeypot smiled. “I take that as a compliment. And no, I had no choice in the matter, but I can’t say the System chose incorrectly. I have a strong suspicion I was an agent of chaos long before coming to this world. It’s in my very blood.”

“Can’t argue with that either,” Arika said.

“The boot definitely fits,” Orion agreed.

“I retract my offer, Honeypot.” Shadow shook his head. “I don’t want to swap my cooking passion for priesthood. Though if it makes you feel any better, you’ll always be a Rogue in my eyes.”

“Thanks!” Honeypot grinned. “You’ll always be a Rogue in my eyes too, buddy. On our adventures, you and I are going to get up to so much cool-rogue-shit. You mark my words.”

“Deal.” Shadow sealed their agreement with a fist bump, the bro equivalent of shaking hands.

Shadow finished cooking the meal as they shared their classes, abilities, and any additional information they’d learned so far. Eventually, Shadow set down plates of stir-fried vegetables and some sort of meat in front of them. When asked, Shadow explained that the vegetables and plants were totally unknown to him, but the meat was something familiar to them all—goat.

They all agreed on one thing: the food was delicious. All three of the other party members gushed over Shadow’s food. He beamed with pride at the praise and dug in himself.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“It’s odd that the flora is alien to earth, but the fauna isn’t…” Orion wondered out loud as he picked at the last bits of his meal some time later. “Do they have cows, sheep, and other animals?”

“They do.” Content, Shadow rubbed his stomach. “I’ve seen all of them in the farming areas outside the southern gates. They’re out of sight of the entrances themselves, but if you follow the outside wall in any direction, you’ll find farmsteads. I’ve heard tales of wolves, foxes, and deer, too.”

“Come to think of it...” Arika's brow furrowed in thought. “It is weird that the animals are the same, but the plants aren’t.”

“I’m happy to have cows as a universal constant.” Honeypot belched loudly. “I’ve always liked cows.”

At the burp, Arika gave him a revolted look. “Why? Because you enjoy tipping them?”

“No,” he said. “I might be a sower of chaos, but I‘d never mistreat animals. I just like them. They’re adorably stupid, like 400-kilo toddlers. They have so much personality. Also, they fart a lot.”

“Alright, I understand why you of all people would appreciate bovine flatulence, but you say they have personality?” Arika looked unconvinced. “Where I come from, they revere cows, but even I don’t think they have much personality.”

“Where are you from?” Orion asked.

“I think Sri Lanka,” she said, a perplexed look forming on her face. “I remember what country I lived in, but I can’t remember any details…”

“Everyone is the same,” Shadow said. “From what I’ve heard, most think it’s because we have a lot of memories of where we’re from, rather than where we haven’t been.”

“That makes sense,” Orion said. “Even with memories removed, most could deduce where they came from purely based on the amount of knowledge they have of a specific country.”

Honeypot and Shadow nodded.

“Wait,” Orion said, “so a requirement for being chosen to come here is that we all speak English? That seems kind of… discriminatory. People from non-English-speaking countries are less likely to have access to English tutoring or education if they’re poor, right?”

As Orion spoke, the other three looked at him with changing emotions, ranging from pity to delight.

“Oh, honey…” Honeypot turned to the others. “Who’s going to tell him?”

“What? What are you not telling me? I—” Orion cut off as a realization slammed into his mind. “We aren’t all speaking English… are we?”

Honeypot threw his hands up in delight. “Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!”

“Exactly,” Shadow said. “I’m American, so I’m speaking English. If you really focus on it, you can hear small accents, but they’re nowhere near as strong as non-native-speakers on Earth.” He turned to Arika. “What language are you speaking if you’re from Sri Lanka?”

“Tamil.” She set her cutlery down. “Don’t feel bad, Orion. I only knew about the language thing because Brick was apparently Russian and didn’t know a lick of English before all this.”

“English for me, too,” Honeypot said. “I’m Australian.”

“Of course you’re Australian!” Shadow said. “I should have known. Aussies are known for being maniacs. I didn’t even notice the accent...”

“I can crank it a-hundred percent if ya want, cobber,” Honeypot said with an exaggerated accent. “Now that I think about it… using unintelligible phrases and mannerisms is bound to create some chaos, even if only a little...” He smiled broadly at Shadow. “Thanks for the tip. You’re a top bloke.”

“Oh my god, Shadow.” Arika lowered her head into her hands. “What have you done?”

Orion rapidly sifted through his memories, trying to ascertain his origin. “I think I’m American too? I don’t really have any knowledge from anywhere else. You’re really speaking Tamil, Arika? You’re speaking flawless English in my mind, though now that you mention it, there’s a bit of an underlying accent...”

“And you’re speaking flawless Tamil in mine.” She smiled wistfully. “I know how you feel. It was baffling how many westerners were speaking Tamil when i first spawned. It took at least an hour before I worked things out.”

They spoke of small things until their misadventure with Felsteg came up. After learning the details, Shadow appeared just as disgusted as if he’d been on the receiving end of the abuse.

“That’s despicable. I know my previous party and I had our differences, but I certainly wish them no ill will. Well, most of them, anyway. Even after we had a fight, they didn’t send me to respawn and steal all the gear I helped get.” Shadow shook his head, unimpressed. “We have to get revenge on them the first chance we get. I can’t stand people that pull shit like that, especially to my party members.”

“Oh, don't worry about that. I already got revenge on them,” Honeypot said from his reclined position on a sofa. “Though I wouldn’t complain if we repeatedly griefed them on sight, given their behavior.”

“It was kind of you to force them to put Arika out of her misery, but I wouldn’t really call that revenge…” Orion smiled at the thought of vengeance on the party that had betrayed him. “We can do better than that.”

“No, no, not that.” Honeypot waved his hand dismissively. “I got them with the ol’ sausage-pocket. That’s psychological warfare, baby.”

“The old… sausage-pocket…?” Orion regretted asking the second the question left his lips.

“Don’t tell me…” Arika scowled at Honeypot. “I’ve been hearing tales of sausages appearing in the pockets of people since we arrived in this world. It’s almost folk-lore at this point. Some swear that once a day another sausage appears in their pocket. Others assume that it’s an elaborate hoax people have been making up. Some have even been saying it’s a glitch. Are you telling me—”

Shadow ran around the counter, going straight for Honeypot.

“YOU!”