Enoch yawned as he awoke, ready for another day of work at the hardware store. He lazily felt around him, noting his blankets were in need of upgrades. He wiped at his eyes, another yawn manifesting while he did so, then he looked around. Initially confused, he paled after a moment, realizing it wasn’t all just a dream.

Now wide awake, he flipped the covers off of himself and walked over to the door, when he stopped short, remembering where he’d last left his body. He also noticed that his leg was not very broken, like it should have been just yesterday. “People?...” He muttered, thinking it over. He gave another look at the room, which he’d not been to, then walked over to the window, where he got a view of the central courtyard/garden.

After a bit more examination, a knock came from the door. Leary from his not-so-great experience with doors yesterday, Enoch tentatively approached, opening it slowly. On the other side was an otter, except about naval-high, bipedal, and wearing butler’s garb. Enoch, now extracted from his animal rage, shrieked and jumped back at the alien sight, tripping on his not-quite-healed leg, then scrambling backward until he hit the wall, staring with wide eyes at the otter man.

The otter, which Enoch noticed was wearing very butler-esque clothes, tilted its head, then spoke in a very british voice, “Sir, I do not know what I’ve done to frighten you, but I daresay you don’t have the right to be so rude until you’ve explained your presence here to the master of the manner, hmph!” Enoch was immediately calmed down, an incredulous expression on his face. The otter pulled a pocket watch from a pocket, then put it away after checking the time, “It is breakfast time, and the master has sent me to collect you. Along we go, now.”

He turned his back, and Enoch stood while shaking his head and mumbling, “What the hell have I been wrapped up in?” He quickly caught up to the otter, keeping pace easily with his short stature. After a few moments, Enoch asked hesitantly, “Um, what’s your name?”

“Coulter Pringleworth, though you may call meCoulter.” said the monocled otter. Enoch shook his head at the observation.

“So, who is this ‘master’ of the house, and why am I here? Also, my leg and nose were broken when I fell asleep, which they now aren’t. You don’t know what’s happened, do you?” Enoch ventured.

Coulter quizzically looked at Enoch, then looked forward again, “The master is Sir Ripley House. As for your presence in this home, I haven’t a clue, and neither does the master. We had initially assumed you a thief, especially when we found the mirror facet you’d somehow taken from the garden. Then, after the master examined you and the surroundings, we’d come to the conclusion more was at play than a simple thief, so we boarded you, clothed you, and healed you.” The otter rubbed his nose, then continued, “And I hope you realize you are a prisoner, for the moment. Until the master decides what is to be done with you.”

Enoch frowned at the word ‘prisoner’, but didn’t say anything. As he was about to continue his questioning, Coulter turned to a set of double doors, opening one to permit Enoch, then bowing as he gestured him inside. Enoch went through, nodding at Coulter, then looking inward to lay eyes on his host. At the head of an immodest dining room table sat a man with a very cranky expression, staring right at Enoch with his blood red eyes, which looked as if they were rippling like a flag in the wind.

The man, Ripley, looked straight out of a fantasy painting. His skin was white with what looked like small bits of stone studding his skin in captivating patterns, and his hair was blacker than onyx. The man’s physique was lean like a sprinter’s and had the face of the most charming salesman. Enoch didn’t know why, but he automatically thought of the man as shifty.

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Ripley didn’t wait for Enoch, who was standing still not far past the entrance, “You’ve broken into my home. Come sit and explain yourself. I will decide your fate.” Enoch frowned again, nodding and heading to a seat not far from Ripley. Ripley frowned, but didn’t say anything.

Enoch cleared his throat, leveling his voice and trying to set a solid first impression, though that ship might already be out to sea, “My name is Enoch Aadland, sir, and I apologize for any damage I caused your home. But I did not break in, like Coulter said I had.” Enoch twitched at his last sentence, regretting his own penchant for defending himself too eagerly. It sounded desperate.

Ripley shook his head, “Let me lay out how it looks from my end: I was out patrolling for monsters during the Fractured Hour, a moment when all gem users are at risk depending on their integrity, and you break down my door, slay my guards, and try to steal my prized mirror facet. I come home to investigate after learning of the security breach and find you, a naked man covered in gore, laying next to my slain guards and not far from my mirror facet.” he paused as he laughed incredulously, “What exactly do you intend to excuse yourself with?”

Enoch looked shell-shocked, then took a few moments to gather himself. “Okay, I see where you got your initial assumption then. Regardless of that, though, let me explain as best I can what happened to me. I was just minding my own business, working my job at a hardware store, when some hot chick named Astra or something comes in and throws me like a doll through some kind of crazy portal, then I wake up in a crazy garden, laying next to a crazy-big gem, in a crazy house, with a crazy world to match! Not long after waking up, those three crazy little racoon-people come to try and kneecap me with rocks like little mobsters! To recap, I was naked, alone, confused, and being attacked when I didn’t know what was happening — and still don’t!” Enoch hadn’t realized he’d stood up to shout most of his tirade at Ripley, who looked incredulous.

Ripley stood up and walked toward Enoch, who backed up. Ripley stopped and frowned, then stepped back, sitting in his chair again. He crossed his arms ponderously and started mumbling to himself. Enoch couldn’t understand him, and his frustration was starting to grow. He put his hands on the table, “So, if you even believe me, that’s my story, and I don’t know what’s going on. If you would explain to me what is even happening, or why I was summoned to your home, or where the hell I even am, I’ll try my best to get out of your hair. This whole place has been nothing but unkind to me since I got here…” Enoch sat back down laying his head on the table.

Ripley looked up from his thoughts. “Hm. I have a theory on what’s happened to you. If it is as I suspect, then it isn’t my place to inform you, and if I’m not, then I’d be wrong. But I will say that you seem to either be delusional or caught up in very large circumstances.”

Enoch sighed, “So what? I don’t even know the first thing about what’s happening. Why should I care about ‘large circumstances’? I want to go back to my house and finish that hutch I was building…” Enoch was starting to feel that bottomless hole called despair again, becoming more and more catatonic.

…

Ripley was conflicted about how to take the information Enoch had provided. On one hand, Enoch had dropped names and happenings that simply weren't possible. On the other hand, Enoch clearly wasn’t lying, as Ripley was able to sense from Enoch’s presence.

Ultimately, Ripley decided to set aside his current decision. Enoch was ultimately a victim, whether it be of some Cataclysm or a gem user who had forced him into a maddening illusion he’d only just awoken from. Ripley decided he would help the man, as he needed it, then decide where to go further once he’d taken Enoch’s measure.

Sighing, Ripley stood up and walked out of the room while speaking, “Coulter, go and inform our guest that he has a choice to make. Either let me teach him or leave.”