Vincoma took it all in - the grey that consumed the sky above, the piercing wind that blew through his tattered clothes, the endless drifts of snow; pillows stretching into the horizon, and he thought to himself in rage. 

They left me here! They banished me! And for what? Just so they can keep their isolated peace! They’ll be happy fading into eternity! Just because they can't stand the notion that they would step from their high horses and prove what we all know, what the world should know! 

There is no supremacy in man!

Vincoma shivered as the wind picked up, watching as it began to snow again. He had already made his choice - he had been sure of himself since they tossed him into this frozen wasteland after they’d tried him for disturbing the natural order. He wouldn’t allow the short-sightedness of his peers to stop him! 

Vincoma forced himself to stand tall, in spite of the piercing wind, the discomfort of the land strengthening his anger. He would need an army, and one he would make. A force like this world had never seen before! Soon, he had already decided, the world of man would be turned to ash, and even the chosen summoned would be powerless to prevent it this time.

Of that he would be sure.

The court magicians watched as the heroes materialized from the circle, many took notes while a painter grasped his brush waiting for them to arrive. The most exceptional blacksmiths in the nation forged swords from the highest quality steel and mages prepared their best enchantments. 

“Welcome! Gallant heroes chosen by the heavens, I entreat you to protect and guard our lands against the great evils threatening all life on this world,” announced the king, standing from his throne.

The Five all looked around themselves quizzically, all attempting to figure out where they were and how they arrived here. Silence filled the room for what felt like hours until Jack stepped forward, breaking the calm, saying precisely what was on all five of their minds.

“What in the fuck is going on?”

“Ahem…” the king cleared his throat. “You are in the presence of King Reginalde II, and we have summoned you from the heavens to protect our world from the great evil known as Vincoma. I shall grant you the best armor and weapons our nation can offer,” the king calmly informed them. A group of the king’s men presented a steel greatsword from a pristinely handcrafted wooden chest, motioning for Jack to examine the blade. Jack simply stood there, quickly glancing from the blade, towards the king, towards the other four standing beside him, and then back to the extravagant weapon, slowly tracing the delicate lines of the embroidered gold that shone from the handguard. He gathered his thoughts and finally spoke again, looking back to the king as he did so.

“Vin-what? Summoned? Where the hell am I exactly? And more importantly, who the hell are you all?”

“Hmm…” the king responded, finger tapping on his throne’s armrest. “I suppose I should be giving you all a bit more than that, shouldn’t I… Well! You are in the Kingdom of Lavra! A nation that has stood since time immemorial! Or, well, since the first founding by the hands of the first Heroes, and you all-”

The King gestured widely to the group of strangers before him.

“Are the next in that cycle!”

The proclamation was met with relative silence from the group, all of which were still working to process the rather sudden circumstances of their ‘death’ and subsequent resurrection into this strange new place. As another few moments passed, the king continued, assuming, or perhaps hoping, that the blank look upon the Hero’s faces was one more of bewilderment, and less of failing to comprehend what, to him, was a straightforward situation. His forefathers’ stories always told of excitement and enthusiasm from the Heroes, but he was sure that would come sooner or later.

“...And so, being that you…” King Reginalde II paused for a moment to count “... Five! You, five heroes, have just been summoned, it is now your duty to learn the magics of our world and face the tyrant who now rises in the north, in order to save this kingdom and the rest of the world from certain destruction. Of course, as is the tradition set forth by the original hero, and as informed by the holy texts, you will all be provided the essentials that all heroes need to begin their journey!”

“Essentials?” asked Angelina, hesitantly.

“Yes, of course! All that you would expect as heroes! You shall all receive some of the finest weapons the kingdom has yet produced! You will also receive a single allowance of five hundred gold pieces, and a personal guide to help you better integrate into our society. But most of that will likely have to come later, once I have answered the rest of your questions, as it seems you all may have quite a few more than we had originally anticipated!” 

Nicholas Schoukens responded in outrage, quickly followed by the rest of the four beside him. “This is unacceptable! Send us back immediately!”

The king nodded, though not understanding the five’s protests. “I’m sure that my royal mages could accommodate that. However, we cannot do so right now, for our world is in grave danger and it is up to you five to save it.”

The five looked at the king with blank stares. They were dumbfounded at what seemed like utter madness in a hall reminiscent of a Hollywood set where they just had a grand quest thrust upon them. Grant looked down at the ground, eyes fixated on the red carpet’s delicate patterns underneath them, before briefly looking out at the delicately crafted stained glass right behind the king. Cogs turned in his head, and eventually his attention turned towards the four others beside him.

He tapped the only female of the group on the shoulder, gaining her immediate attention. Grant then leaned into her ear and whispered something not even the people beside the two could make out. A short nod of confirmation later, Grant took a single step towards the king and announced on behalf of the other four “heroes” that they will be honored to accept the request. The other three covered their mouths in response.

The king smiled and nodded. He finally leaned back on the golden throne and breathed a sigh. Palace guards relaxed their grip on their spears and pikes, and court mages all but disappeared from the chamber. A small wave could be seen from the king; moments later, chests of equipment and gold were brought by servants and presented to the five for their choosing. Grant smiled at Angelina. The two then grabbed a modest, though not conspicuous, amount of gold coins, quickly followed by the rest of the group. The group chose lightweight armors and weapons before withdrawing, signaling that they had had enough. None had even considered taking up a greatsword.

Angelina expected the king to be shocked at the amount of gold taken from the chest; the king simply nodded at the five’s choices and sent the chests of gold and equipment away. The king reminisced from back when his grandfather would tell tales of heroes defeating the impossible, of incredible adventures backed by a few they would call “party members.” As a child, he scoured the royal palace libraries and dug into grand tales of otherworldly heroes winning against great evils. Though it was a slow and confusing start, he was glad that things were just as Grandfather said they would.

When his father became monarch, great eastern nations fell into a state of disarray while the elven kingdoms at the edge of the world suppressed the dark arts by military force. It had almost been a century since the last demon incident, and the then Prince Reginalde was glad, if not a little disappointed by the fact he might never meet heroes in his life like his grandfather and ancestors before him. The news that a new evil had risen from the icy depths of the northern continent had shaken him to his very core. He woke up the next morning with the energy of a child on Christmas day. As he reminisced, an advisor pulled him back to the real world with a reminder that the heroes were still waiting for more instructions.

“Ah… Yes,” King Reginalde II announced. “I see that your ‘party’ has chosen light weapons and armors, a fine choice. Now, before you set off on your grand adventures, I shall offer an advisor to help better understand our world.” Helmut Lohmüller chuckled silently at the king’s usage of “party.”

A robed figure emerged from the chamber hall’s main entrance, their movement as smooth as the wind blowing from the outside. Every step they took was deadly silent. The robe was made of a silk-like fabric dyed in a violent violet, with the hood decorated in gold threads. A set of wooden framed glasses could be seen from just under the hood’s dark shades.

A set of cat ears could be seen sticking out like sore thumbs on top of her vibrant pink hair after she flipped back her hood. Two bright blue eyes were behind the impossibly heavy pair of glasses that snugly sat on top of the bridge of her nose. Behind her was a long, sleek tail extending towards the air.

“This is Hitomi. She is a member of the proud ‘Neko’ race. They were created magically by the first hero long ago, and it is tradition for Nekos to accompany heroes with their adventures.” The king introduced Hitomi with much enthusiasm. She looked at the heroes, eyes widened, tail tall, and ears perked up, and stepped forward to introduce herself, clasping her hands together in front of her.

“Hello! It’s a pleasure to meet all of you, nyaa!” Hitomi chirped, leaning forward and awkwardly squeezing her massive breasts between her arms. “I have been chosen by the kingdom to serve as your guide, nyaa! That means that I’ll get to accompany you throughout your adventure and help to make sure all of your basic needs can be met, nyaa!” She continued, pressing a bit closer into Helmut, who was standing nearest to her, as she did her best to accentuate her cleavage.

“Uh-huh…” Helmut responded slowly, raising an eyebrow.

Angelina stared at the genetic mess in front of her with an utter look of concern. Which person was sick enough to create these creatures and what did the madman in front of her mean when he said magically? More importantly, what’s with the nyaas? Her line of questioning was quickly cut short as the king made a request.

“Now that’s out of the way, I invite you all to join Hitomi and get to know the capital. Please do take your time to get acquainted with each other and learn our culture first hand,” the king invited as the grand chamber door opened behind them, the picturesque stone and wooden city could be seen directly outside. As the group of heroes and their guide walked out the door, the king breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back into his throne, his muscles visibly relaxing. “Bring me a glass of wine,” he quietly ordered the assistant beside him, watching the strange group of heroes as they made their way from the summoning hall. “It's been a long day”.

Silently walking down the cobblestone road, their clean lab coats, t-shirts, suits, and high visibility jackets drew attention from citizens going about their daily life. Noisy chattering and gossip of who these strangers filled the atmosphere, but the group of heroes paid no attention to the locals.

“Uhh… are you guys on board with that king’s requests?” Grant asked the other four, trying to break the silence.

“I can’t swing a sword, much less defend myself, so count me out of this dungeons and dragons nonsense,” Jack replied without hesitation.

“But who knows how long we’ll be stuck here for? A month? A year? Decades? Forever? We need a plan,” Angelina interjected.

“Well...” Jack began slowly, “what can we all do, exactly? Does anyone have any useful skills or something? And more importantly, who are you all?”

The group glanced around at one another hesitantly, before Angelina finally broke the tension.

“Well… I’m Angelina and I am- well was? An engineer.”

“Really? So was I. My name is Grant,” Grant chimed in.

“Same here. I’m Helmut.” 

“I’m Nicholas. ”

“Well, I guess that leaves me. My name is Jack and, like the rest of you, I suppose, I was an engineer.”

“Huh… hey uhh... Hitomi, wasn't it? How were we chosen, exactly?” asked Angelina.

“Nyaa….” Hitomi began, placing her thumb and forefinger on her chin and leaning her head back thoughtfully. “well… I can’t say I'm too knowledgeable on the summoning process, nyaa, but it is said that only the strongest, most adaptable heroes are chosen by the gods to save our world when it is threatened, nyaa!”

Angelina stared at Hitomi, unconvinced.

“Nyaa, actually! It is said the heroes have always had a tremendous affinity for magic! Perhaps you all should try starting your journey as apprentices under an experienced mage, nyaa?!” Hitomi exclaimed, inching ever closer to the nearest man in the group, leaning in subtly. “You could even get access to books that way, too, nyaa!”

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass, I’m not interested in learning another technical skill,” Helmut interjected, pushing the cat-person hybrid away softly.

“Hold on, what do you mean ‘access to books’? Are they not a common item in this world?” interjected Grant.

“No, why would they be, nyaa? It takes ages for a scribe to copy a full book, nyaa!”

Grant looked back to Angelina, and they nodded to one another.

“Hitomi, do you know of any good blacksmiths around?” Angelina asked

“Nyaa, Blacksmiths? I know a place, come! Nyaa.” Hitomi raised her arms and pointed to a vague direction.

Chasing after Hitomi, the group eventually reached a building next to the city wall. A large furnace sat outside under a shed.

As the group walked through the wooden door, they were greeted by a muscular man. He wore a brown leather apron and had what seemed to be a ball of bleached tumbleweed stuck on his chin and a quickly retreating hairline with only sparse spots of hair on the side of his head. Behind the man was a young boy likely no older than 15, who was absolutely dwarfed by the man approaching the group of heroes. 

“Welcome! I hope you could forgive the messiness of the store. We had a couple big contracts from the king himself to produce weapons and haven’t cleaned up yet. So, what can I do for ya?” the muscular man asked. 

The shop was littered with tools of multiple sizes and shapes on almost every surface. Crucibles dotted the floor, while a glowing red sword rested on a heavily damaged and chipped metal block. 

“We have an uhh… new idea to test out and wonder if you could help produce a prototype,” Grant responded.

“I have to say, not many people come up to me to test ideas, but I’m listening. What do you folks have in mind? Oh, before I forget, you can call me Hervey, and this young man here,” Hervey slapped the boy beside him on the back, “is Attwell, my apprentice. So, what was that idea of yours?”

“We have an idea for a machine to mass produce the written word. With it, a single person could produce upwards of 200 sides of paper per hour. Of course, this could be a lucrative invention with great potential, so we will have to ask for your silence regarding the blueprints. We will be happy to pay for your service.” 

“200 an hour? Sounds like some hogwash to me. What sort of nonsensical design could you possibly have come up with that can put out more pages in an hour than a trained scribe can push through in a week?” the smith spat. ”You’re all just a bunch of nobles who think they’re brilliant, aren’t ya? As though sitting in your fancy keeps all day gives you a lick of experience in anything use-” 

Hervey paused for a moment.

“How much money we talkin’ here...?” 

Grant turned to consult the group. Moments later, he turned back towards the blacksmith. 

“15 gold pieces.”’

Hervey stared in silence and smiled.

“You got yourselves a deal.”