Molly St Clair

 

The information delivered to the group by Malachi was received with mixed reactions after the initial moment of surprise. Patiently, Molly made note of each person's second reaction as the information sunk in. Those reactions were detailed in her growing dossier on the sixty.

After reading the Commandments, it became clear to her that organization was going to be very important in the coming days. Most of the sixty had been more concerned with the Commandments’ declaration of purpose. The group had then worthlessly debated where on the moral scale that purpose would land.

Far as she was concerned, the implication it would take them all to make it through this, was of the greatest importance. Scanning the crowd, she noted that most people were at least intrigued by the prospect of picking a class and fighting monsters. There were of course a few who  were showing outright fear at the idea of facing monsters. Understandable, if frustrating. That fear was most likely grounded in the dread that came up when one faced a dream come true and it didn’t hold up. In this case, it was all too real.

After all, a fantasy of dungeon crawling was rarely tainted with the terror of death and pain. A fear that was very present when monsters became a fact and facing them became inevitable.

Those that were excited while also being wary or introspective, gained the most attention from her.  By her estimation, it would be the cautious willing ones that were important. They would be the ones to become the core of their rise to freedom. Just the motivation to escape wouldn’t be enough. To get through this would take willpower. Many in the group didn’t have enough to get started.

Not alone.

Proof that it could be done would be necessary. Then everyone would be encouraged to take part. That was what Molly had decided. She would need to encourage the right group to form. People to act as the vanguard to show these sixty that it could be done. That it was possible, she kept firm faith in. Any other possibility was a waste of time to consider. They needed people with courage. A just a few to push back the unknown.

Malachi is an obvious choice to be part of that group, decided Molly. His charisma would be a useful tool for propelling the discouraged or fearful forward… assuming his skills can back up his speaking talent.

She had been taking careful measure of his effect on the crowd. Overall he had kept the panic from surging. Impressive results with strangers. A few were already encouraged to take a look at the screens. He has the potential... I will note him down as a possible candidate for the vanguard… I wonder if the screens have any notebooks.

Off topic! she scolded herself. 

Anyway…  the vanguard is for later... The first task to get any progress done is to get everyone to pick a class and unseal that door. Glancing at the forbidding door, Molly shifted her attention as a third golden dot appeared on the door's surface. Blue lightning directed her attention to the third person to pick a class. He was a large man with a blunt face and a large nose like the lonely mountain. Molly noticed that he was grinning over a pair of fingerless gloves with metal studs on the knuckles. With a pleased hum, Molly also noted that the grin did him a favor.

She found the man with shoulders for days in her mental dossier under the name Warner. This one stood out as an exception. Most of the sixty were still milling around debating. Still arguing over the merits of going along with the scenario presented by the screens and the doors. Molly frowned at the needless debate and decided that she may have to take an active role here. It would seem Malachi could calm the crowd, but had not yet gained the respect or the expertise to really motivate a crowd. She ran over what needed to be said a few times to make sure her message was clear. Once that was settled, it was a quick effort to trace the possible divergences in the conversation. 

Her hand reached up to adjust her glasses, but twitched away with angry embarrassment. The glasses weren’t there. Having woken up without them nearby had been strange. No longer needing them had been a shock.

Molly’s feelings on the miraculous change of her eyes were a mix of excitement and loss for a familiar accessory. They had been an extra layer of protection against the world. Such a mental comfort would be nice to have as she addressed the crowd. Instead, Molly fixed a cool expression and summoned a feeling of stiff protection over her skin. She placed herself beside Malachi once all preparations were ready.

Pouncing on a lull in the myriad of conversations, Molly called out to the group, “You must put aside your concerns of whether we should pick a class.” Her tone had been modulated to be sharp and cool enough to cut through the chatter. It drew attention as expected. “We are trapped down here, together... and there is one door out. One door… with one key. Let us all pick our classes and open the way out. It is as simple as that.”

“Also, there are the supplies that come with it to consider. So far it is the only source of food. Possibly for water too. Five days of food buys us time to figure things out, together.”

Malachi gave her a smile as people generally agreed with her sentiments. She nodded back, but was already planning her retreat for the sake of her fluttering heart. Being in front of a group wasn’t a pleasant experience for her.

When the group started to scatter towards various screens, Molly faded to the back to let Malachi organize the lines. Most just let themselves be sorted to whichever line seemed the smallest. One line of the four bulged longer than the others though. The man with the charming smile and mile-long shoulders had gathered together several of the physically biggest of the sixty. 

Molly frowned at the possible implications. Considering the options and her estimations, she concluded, but on the other hand, any signs of leadership is a good thing. A few warlords will rise up during anarchy. Unified leadership can come later after acceptance of our reality. My instincts say Malachi is the choice to make, but still... Warner is someone to keep an eye on… A pleasant chore really… Careful Molly, off topic…

 Considerable thought had led her to that.

 She decided that it would be best to let Warner and his bulky group dynamic play out. They could be the iconic group that would inspire others to keep pushing forward. Or even the rival of the group she expected to form around Malachi. Either scenario could benefit her plans for the unity of the sixty. 

As with most plans that relied on people, it was best to have broad stroke goals. The ability to see the social flow and make the right decisions was paramount to seeing those goals through. There was an inherent risk when manipulating even small aspects of society. Chaos played an equal part in your maneuvering. If you pushed too hard, humanity tended to bite back. Spite for sake of free will was a very human thing. This regardless of your benign intentions.

Molly observed that the lines moved pretty steadily as more golden dots appeared on the forbidding door.

For better or worse, soon that door would be open. She ignored the lines for now. Fading back to become unnoticed  had resulted in her being at the end of the line. It didn’t matter which she would choose. Instead, Molly moved to take a look at the stalls that the screens were scattered around. A few people looked at her guardedly, likely worried she might be trying to cut in line. Though most were deep in their own thoughts. Her supposition was they were trying to decide what kind of class to pick. Finding that scenario much more agreeable than any other sentiment. It wasn’t a decision to make lightly. Shouldn’t be at least.

Personally, Molly was thinking that she would go for Acolyte and see if she could learn to cast this world’s version of debuffs. It was a play style that she had always enjoyed. Of course… this isn’t a game, Molly stated to herself. Some may believe this is just a Full Dive game, but that was… yeah that’s wishful thinking. This is real and I think it’s gonna be too real for some soon. 

The stalls were set up in a loose circle to create the semblance of a market square. The five stalls were set up in the hall next to an indention in the wall that was filled with tables and chairs. The lines streamed from the screens that were placed in between the stalls. As logic would have it, the stall closest to the tables appeared to be a kitchen and was filled with appliances that looked food-related. Some had hard to determine purposes. Having odd designs that invoked the futuristic style that was envisioned in the ’50s. 

The rest of the stalls were filled with crafting equipment for different disciplines.

There was a stall that centered around different size cauldrons beside several different chemistry sets. One had several tables with runic designs with board walls that had various carving tools hanging. Another was a hodgepodge of various tools from leatherwork to tailoring, and the last was a blacksmithing stall.

Each had a still and dusty figure standing within the confines. From stall to stall, they varied from robotic to golem-esque. The blacksmith was the most golem-like with the appearance of a lump of iron molded into the shape of a man. Its hands were delicately constructed and exuded the impression no work could be beyond its skill. At the hodgepodge stall, which Molly thought of as the craft stall, was a multi-limbed figure. This figure would have been at home in any sci-fi movie. An impression created by the shiny metal shell and mechanical glass eyes.

  Molly strolled through the market square taking a closer look at each stall. She was curious to note that each one had clear sections that cut them in half. Each side had duplicate equipment like a mirror image. The figures occupied only one side of a stall, leaving the other half empty.

At first, she wondered if there was a missing robot or golem. Possibly in case backup was needed. The answer was in the other difference that ran true for all five stalls. There was a swinging door entrance in the stall on the side without a figure. This last bit left her to guess that maybe they had the option to make their own equipment. You could allow the figures to do it or make item by personal effort. This was all reminiscent of a video game as well. 

Which is becoming a bit of a theme… thought Molly dryly. Could this just be a video game? VR and AR were nowhere close to this level. Did we win a contest or get kidnapped by some super genius to test a game? We could just as easily be dead like that crazy Harken guy has been suggesting… I hope we’re not dead… Off topic… No, this is too real. I’m letting their chatter distract me from the fear of being iskai’d. There may be no way home...

While wandering the stalls, Molly found that she couldn’t access anything to her annoyance. The swing doors were locked. Even the open spaces had an invisible wall blocking any unorthodox entry. It was hard, but somewhat pliable.

She gave the tools and equipment sealed away from her a long look. The desire to understand their purpose was a strain hard to ignore. Molly only had video games and books to guide her, but those had proved useful. It worked to generally categorize the stalls. Perhaps not reliable without some hands-on time. Best to be wary of using sources of fiction as a guidepost. Studying them directly would be. Observation could only get you so far. Unfortunately that was apparently impossible for now. Very frustrating for her.

“Hey, sticks!” roared a voice, deep and twangy. 

Molly turned sharply with an icy look and a raised eyebrow when she realized the “greeting” was aimed at her. “Molly St. Clair,” she replied coldly with a hint of something cruel. “Nicknames like “sticks” are unnecessary and unwanted.”

“Well, darling… uh Molly I mean, no harm meant… none at all,” drawled Warner, grinning with all of the charms a farm boy had to give. It had an effect too, with the slight softening of Molly’s frown. “I wanted your attention, and well, sometimes shit just comes out of my mouth. Worked tho’.”

“Attention acquired,” offered Molly and then with perfect pronunciation added, “What can I do for you, Mr. Warner Papadopoulos?”

“Shit, that formality ain’t necessary… And you know my whole name…. damn...” said Warner as he reacted with confusion. Bewildered, he mumbled to himself. Though she could hear him perfectly say, “How did I get so on the wrong foot here…”

“Rudeness, that’s why you are in a hole of your own making,” answered the cool-eyed woman, her frown quivering into a smile for a moment. “Further, you have yet to tell me why you have engaged my attention. Must I continue to suffer the impatience to find out why, Mr. Papadopoulos?”

  The unease drained from Warner’s frame as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Ya know, with that tone and the hand reaching for glasses that ain't there… You remind me of an old librarian I knew. She always played stern, but was all grins inside…” The fluttering of Molly’s eyes was the only sign of a flinch as she continued to cooly, and rigidly, stand there. 

“I assure you that if tested I am not all grins,” she said, almost growling.

“Perhaps it’s that way, and perhaps it ain’t,” he responded absently. “I came to ya with an offer. The way I see it, we gotta form groups. Parties… ya might say... ya know with this goddamn video game hijinks we seemed to be forced to play at…” A shark's grin swam onto his face in reflection to Molly’s own ice queen frown. “Muscle, we got that between the brutes that already joined up with me. Strength sees strength, just as like minds find like minds. ‘Cept that ain’t never enough is it? Soo, as I said, we got brawn, but I know we need some brains… I’m guessing you got quite a lot of it. Your eyes are sharp and you waste no time … or nonsense, it seems to me…. Join me.”

Molly tapped her lips thoughtfully, refusing to be rushed into a decision.

The man with the shoulders smirked and rolled his eyes as he waited for her deliberations to come to an end. She had originally planned to stay in the shadows to get a better feel for the pulse of the group. See where her sense of order could be best put to use. Perhaps, maneuvering Malachi into the leading role he seemed to be suited for.

Warner, she thought, could play that role as well… though rough around the edges. That is the sense I get from him. Could lead, doesn’t mean he should. He’s comfortable with a leading role, or wants to be in one at least… Plus those shoulders! And the smile… that boyish charm is hard-hitting, whew!… Off topic! ANYWAYS, he's an element of the group that could use some extra attention. Potential asset... potentially volatile. I better keep an eye on him.

Her attention whipped back to Warner who had been studying his gloves while waiting. “You are in luck Mr. Papadopoulos,” started Molly. “I was planning on picking an Acolyte path and I will join your group. I am encouraged by your initiative to form a group. I hope we have plans for another mage, as I won’t be enough I think for a balanced team, and a healer if only with the first aid we are used to…”

“Glad you're with us,” grinned Warner. “Let’s take this talk over with the group. Better to decide all together… Also, and this is very important. Call me Warner. Drop the mister and leave my damnlast name be. Just Warner, alright?”

She paused with a frown as a few thoughts filtered through about maintaining distance and social anxiety. In the end, Molly nodded and said, “Alright, uh Warner. Introduce me to the others.” Still frowning she wondered, I hope I joined for the logical reasons and not the shoulders…

 

Phelian Starr

 

Surprise had quickly turned to glee when Phelian had awoken with the sight of the Hall. He had jittered with excitement while taking in his new reality. Others had seen his wide-eyed stare and take that as panic. No, it was that the joy was just so overwhelming.

It finally happened! Phelian had exclaimed to himself. Another world! I have finally been taken to another world to be a hero...

It was to his amusement that the others of the sixty seemed to miss the obvious. They could go blue discussing the merits of their theories. There was no way they were dead or in a full dive game. That was just silly. It was clear to Phelian that this was another world and the dungeon they were starting in was a test of some kind. Didn’t the words, the Commandments, say they were here for a purpose?

It is clear to me that the purpose is to become strong enough to save the world, he faithfully decided.

It had irritated him that others had gotten to the screens before him, but he had so much to plan out. Do I want to be the sort of hero that played it cool at first, or should he just go all out from the get go? 

He had been debating with himself while half-listening to what that guy Malachi had to say. Those around him had begun to debate why everything was like a video game. This encouraged the Full Dive crowd to start cawing again. Claiming how it must be a new technology that was being tested. With a scoff, Phelian had walked ahead of the group to get to a screen before the crowd.

It seems to me that the video game aspect is to help us better attune to our new lives, grumbled Phelian to himself. 

Once at the screen, he didn’t take long to make his choices. First, he took room thirteen on the right for the symbolism. Next, he grabbed the warrior class and picked out a sword and shield. A hero’s choices he considered. On the front lines, his sword would deal final blows and his shield would protect the lives of others. 

Admittedly, using both in tandem was harder than Phelian would have guessed.

His swings had been a little wild and more awkward than expected. Something to work on, but he was confident that in time his skills would smooth out. After all, he had been waiting for this his whole life. Making video game adventures for others had earned him everything their old world could offer, but it had all just been preparatory for this moment. He had almost given up the faith that it would ever happen.

A blissful smile popped his dimples as Phelian ran to join those who would open the door for the first time. He joked inside his head, How could the hero miss that moment?