Dinner Prep [S/C]

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

“I don’t even know what to do with my life anymore.” Saber said aloud as he stood before a messenger, who looked more like a butler than anyone else. The man had approached Saber as the Adventurer was shopping for new tools for his new crafting class, Tailor. Upon seeing Saber’s choice of items, the man must have guessed his skillset and called out to the Assassin. The Lander extended a request and gave a small speech of what it was for, and now Saber had to make a decision; help or not help. If he helped, he would be rewarded. If he didn’t he would be left out. Easy decision, right?

Wrong. Saber was a new tailor, fresh out of the gates, and had barely any actual materials to work with besides the crap he had gathered from the fields. Then again, he had a lot of that crap. He had mixtures of furs and various clothing materials and fabrics. A lot of the excess stuff he had he also exchanged for even more high quality fabrics, which he knew would come in handy. Though, he didn’t expect the fabrics to come in handy now of all times. He had expected to use them later on for more high quality pieces of armor, accessories, or clothes in general seeing as they would fetch a higher price on the Lander market. Adventurers may not have a need for his wares, but a lot of the People of the Land came to his store to purchase tools and weapons; he wasn’t exactly cheap, but he was probably one of the few remaining active blacksmith that could craft decent gear unless one decided to travel. Maybe that was why the Messenger stood before him now.

The man in all of his suit-glory stood up tall, had a black expression aside for his dagger-like stare, and had his hands were neatly folded behind his back. He seemed to have simply appeared out of thin air with a mission for Saber and was defiant in getting the Adventurer to say yes, even though he had not said much. His words were enough to tell Saber that the situation was dire, or something close to it. By the way the Butler was dressed, Saber also doubted that the rewards the man mentioned were false. The Butler belonged to a man who was holding a dinner party in the city of Avon, and the chef needed help. The type of help varied based on crafting class, but seeing as Saber was now a tailor for the time being, he would have to create probably the simplest items on the market when it came to cutlery; the visual appeal. Yes, Saber would have to create items which helped dress up the dinner and make things pop. He needed to create table cloths. In addition to them, he also had to make the items people used to keep their faces clean as they ate; napkins.

The crafts were easy enough, but what wasn’t easy was the sheer number of the items required. The individual items would be easy to make, but creating so many would prove tedious and annoying. Saber would need to come up with some kind of rhythm or system to make them. If necessary, he could use his other subclasses to create the tools required to speed up the process. But, he would also need to make sure the quality was up. That would prove difficult even for Saber. In the real world, he had never touched a needle unless it was for sowing a wound closed. He never worked with fabrics at home or when he was off in college. His father called that “women’s work”, and so he was never taught to do anything of the sort. Now that there was a market for those skills, and because Saber actually needed the skills, he would have to learn. Thankfully, he paid attention as a kid.

“Your decision, Mister Saber?” The Butler seemed to be a bit impatient, which was understandable. He probably had a lot more people to talk to and if Saber was just going to stand around and think, then he was a waste of time. But there was no need for the silence anymore, Saber had his decision.

“I’ll do it. I’ll create the items and bring them to the designated location when I am finished.” Saber folded up the request for the items and tucked it into his back pocket. The Butler bowed.

“Thank you, Sir. I shall tell the chef of your assistance. Please be swift.” After speaking, the Butler rose and Saber nodded. Who would have known that planning for a dinner party could mean life or death for some people? The Chef was probably in one heck of a pinch if he needed to reach out to the Adventurers. Nonetheless, Saber now had a job. It had been quite a while.

“Now then. If you will excuse me. Good day, Sir.” With that, the Butler turned away and hurried off down the street, most likely heading to find the next person on the list of many. He was lucky; Saber was just about to disappear when he had been approached by the butler. Now that their business was done, the Assassin slipped into the alleys and headed to his Avon den.

Across the city to the north, at the edge of Avon’s protective walls, there was a small building that stood within the ruined section of the city. It was aged on the outside, but on the inside it had been renovated slightly to be a little more home-like. On the top floor the hall was lit on two ends by lanterns, one at the stairs and one by a door at the other end of said hall. The door was locked, but beyond it was a singular small room with only a single small window. There were a few oil lanterns hung up on the room’s walls for illumination purposes, there was a simple bed in the corner, a desk at the foot of the bed, chairs, a table for eating at, and another desk that was more of a workbench of sorts. At that bench was a mix of tools; Alchemist and Blacksmithing ones. They were carefully organized on the bench and sorted so that one wouldn’t be confused by them. There was also a set of unlit candles and another lantern on top of the bench.

Saber slipped into the building swiftly, headed to the top floor, and walked quietly down the hall. He unlocked the door, popped it open, and then closed it shut behind him. The quiet Assassin locked the knob and then pushed the metal bar he used for a makeshift deadbolt across the door and into a small hole in the frame. A heavy sigh escaped his lips once he was finally alone. It was tiring being around other people. He had to keep his guard up at all times and it was almost second-nature for him now to be uneasy near others. Initially he didn’t mind it, but after his months of being alone it was getting tough interacting with others. Tougher than it normally would have been at least, but he made sure that he got his alone time to help himself relax. Now that he also had something to do, it would be even better for him.

Saber pulled off his cloak and his heavy shirt, and then tossed the two items onto his bed. He headed over to his workbench, lit the candles and the lantern, and took a seat in the chair. It squeaked a little from age as the man rested himself in its cradle, but it was a very soothing sound. It was as if his entire body was letting out a sigh. It felt so good to finally sit down and relax. His feet were sore, his shoulders strained, and his lower back stung a little. The game was starting to feel a lot like reality, but in reality the pain didn’t go away as quickly as it did in the game. Saber’s soreness was all mental and as he relaxed and reminded himself of where he was, that soreness vanished. It was almost ghostly.

“Damn…” Saber muttered as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes staring towards the ceiling. He felt like an old man. He had spent so much time fighting and barely any time resting that it almost felt weird to not be out and about in the fields. It was as if combat was normal, and sitting down was abnormal. It sucked, but he was coming to terms with it. Fighting was one way to pass the time and make money, but he was a mercenary. He took any job that came his way, no matter what it was.

The man opened up his menu, scrolled down through the options and navigated to where he kept all of his fabrics. Once he had it, he summoned forth his black and white cloths, as well as his colored threading. The fabric pieces were all silk and they had come from the far east. They were also very expensive, as each piece cost Saber a lot of money. If it wasn’t for his skill set as a hunter, he probably wouldn’t have had anywhere near the amount he did. The man who was selling the silks needed furs that no one else had the ability to get due to the creature’s high level and power. Of course, that gave Saber an opportunity. In exchange for the needed fur, the Merchant would give Saber silks and thread. The man agreed, as the fur was just as important to him as the silks were. In Londinium, Silk was highly priced because of its scarcity. On the flip side, fur was just as highly priced where the Merchant hailed from. That meant both parties benefitted from the exchange. However, Saber made out like a bandit; he asked for far more bits of silk because the Merchant had a high supply of it. With Saber being the only person able to get the needed fur, the Merchant had no choice but to give up more of the material. It was an… almost even trade, but Saber didn’t care. He made his profit.

Now that trade would come in handy, in more ways than one. Not only had he received silk from the Merchant, but also several rolls of cotton and satin along with various different colors. These two materials would prove vital in making thicker and sturdier clothes later on. Knowing that he had them as well as silk made planning the items for the Chef’s request even easier. So easy that he already knew what he was going to make. Time would not be wasted on the drawing board. Saber pulled out his Tailor tools and neatly placed them on his bench. He then set down a roll of black cotton in front of him. First, he would make the napkins. They were simple and easy to make, so he would use them to help himself get comfortable with his new trade. Using a pair of fabric scissors, Saber carefully cut a line of silk off the roll he had acquired. It was a small amount, but it would be a necessary one. Once he had the amount he wanted cut, he got to work.

: Word Count :
1914

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

The piece of fabric fluttered in Saber’s hands as he held it in the air and his nose wiggled as he watched it flow. The light from his candles and lantern struck it in such a way that it seemed to glisten and shine in his hands. It was quite cool, but it also reminded Saber of how easily distracted he was sometimes. It made him rumble and he refocused himself on the job at hand. The item was just a simple rectangle of fabric and its edges were neatly cut and there weren’t any loose fibers, except for the side Saber himself had just cut. The threads there were loose and open, but not for long. Saber placed the fabric down on his workbench and carefully folded the frayed edge over itself, coiling the loose fabric ends up beneath the woven body of the cloth. He was very careful as he rolled the fabric and ensured that he used as little fabric as possible to cover up his mess, but he also did it evenly. As he rolled the edge up, he stuck small pins through the cloth to hold it in place. The pin was a sewing pin, one of the two hundred he had purchased an hour ago, and very easily punctured the cotton fabric.

Once he had the entire edge folded over, Saber adjusted the sewing pins to ensure that his line was straight. If his line was off, the napkin itself wouldn’t exactly come out fantastic looking. Thus, he had to ensure perfection. The people attending the party were most likely going to be aristocrats or the fancy people with money, so Saber doubted they would accept anything less than of equal level to their own social status. Their lives probably hovered around constant perfection and they probably lived under constant stress because of it. Anything out of the ordinary would more than likely stand out to them. So, Saber took his time to ensure his napkin lived up to the standards set by the dinner. The fold line was straight and Saber took several measures to ensure it was.

After finally becoming content with the fold, Saber plucked up his needle and a line of white silk thread. As Saber lifted the coil and placed it beside the main piece of fabric, Saber noticed that the thread had a slight shimmer to it. It was quite nice to see, and made the man smirk. When he unraveled some of the string, his smirk turned into a grin as the single piece of thread also gave off a bit of a glow. It looked almost heavenly as the candle lights hit it. Saber had made a good choice in his trade and all of his doubts of his ability to succeed in the market were slowly washing away. Saber looped the thread through the end of his needle and carefully poked it through the napkin fabric. Once it was through, he pulled the needle out the other side and also the silk thread with it. When it was through, he dipped the needle back down and behind the initial hole, simply to create a bit of a knot at the start. He looped the needle around after pulling it through and began to weave it into the napkin.

Each weave inched the Assassin’s nimble and precise fingers forward, allowing him to slowly progress from one end of the napkin towards the other. With each careful twist and pull, Saber checked his work before moving forward. He did that not only to check his progress, but to also ensure that nothing was loose and that he didn’t make one loop too large or too small. Such imperfections stood out and would be annoying to fix. Because of this, he took his time. Before he simply shoved the needle up and through the fabric, Saber looked over his movement carefully and mentally measured out the loop that would be created. Then he would push the needle through and up, or down depending on the direction the needle needed to go. But before he pulled the thread tight, Saber gave his puncture one more look over as a precaution as one he gave the string a tug, it was too late. After the first few loops, the movements became almost mechanical to Saber. His wrists twisted and flexed lightly to maneuver the needle and to pull on the thread, one of his hands clamped down hard on the needle while the other held his napkin in place, and his eyes blinked every few seconds but remained open when he needed to focus on stabbing through the fabric. In a matter of minutes, his body became accustomed to the tedious nature of the job. And after almost twenty minutes, Saber pulled on the thread one last time.

The man looped his needle down through the fabric one last time before yanking on the thread, tying his threading into the fabric. With a pair of thread scissors, Saber snipped off the excess threading and then very carefully tucked the dangling link around the thread which was still in the napkin fabric. Carefully, Saber tugged on the remaining string to ensure it wouldn’t come free, and then he rotated the fabric. On the next edge, Saber continued the same pattern he had just started. He carefully folded the edge over, creating a second seam, and used sewing pins to keep the fold secure. To ensure efficiency, Saber used the sewing pins he had left in the previous fold. This kept him from having to dig into the small box for more. With the method already practiced, Saber was able to form his line a lot quicker this time around. To also ensure that it didn’t look weird, Saber folded the fabric carefully as to make the two folds rum along each other at an angle. Rather than fold one edge over another, Saber ran them beside one another and created a corner in the napkin’s fabric. With a pin, he held the two edges together.

One more sewing pin was stuffed through the fabric before Saber switched to his thread and needle combination. Then, once more, Saber began to weave his way through the fabric. He kept his loops as consistent as he had done before and also maintained the small distance between loops. If he used two different sized loops, it would stand out and look strange to even the untrained eye. If someone wanted to see an imperfection, they were going to need a ruler. Of course, Saber doubted anyone would actually care about such things except for someone who was being picky. Even so, he kept to his theory and prepared for the expected; someone picky. There was usually always one person who was never content, like Saber. Saber was never content with who he was or what he was doing. He could do better. He could always do better.

That trait of his began to show very brightly as he pulled his needle through the final time. The main cut the thread, tucked the end into the previous loop, and rumbled as he leaned back and looked at the creation of his. He didn’t like it, but it was simple enough for him to bang out more than one and it also looked pretty fancy even by his standards. The napkin itself was black and the white silk thread gave the upper edges of the napkin a bit of a shine. The fabric wasn’t extremely smooth but it wasn’t rough either; it had a sort of grainy feel to it, which was good. That slight grip was something Saber wanted as it would cause the food to stick to the napkin, and not smear on people’s faces when they used it. The cotton would also suck up liquids very easily because of its absorbent nature. It was a simple design and Saber may not have been content with it, but it was good enough for him. Taking his needle once more, Saber carefully stitched the letters “FP” into the bottom left corner of the napkin. He used a fancy, musical-like font for the letters and kept the threads tight to ensure that his watermark would last. Upon its completion, Saber flatted the napkin out towards the edge of the table and began his pile.

That was one, and he had many more to go…

: Word Count :
1407

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

Event Progress: 1%

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

Now that he knew how to make the actual napkins and the basis for them, Saber simply had to mass produce them. However he was no fool. The keen Assassin always read between the lines no matter what it pertained to and kept his eyes open for tricks and traps. In this case, the trick was that each napkin needed to be handmade; he could not speed craft a single one if he wished to appease the Chef and the organizers of the event. It was a bit annoying to know such a thing existed, but he would have to be swift and precise. There could be no mistakes. The good thing was, he was very consistent with everything he did. Saber took his time with things and outlined everything in step-oriented processes. Everything was outlined, and the procedure he made for a specific thing was followed to the tee. He applied such things mostly to grinding and killing simple creatures, or when he had to create a weapon by hand in his forge. The same could be applied to the napkins.

Using the previous size of fabric, Saber eyeballed a decent amount of cotton from his main roll and cut it. His fabric scissors swiftly snipped through the pricy piece of well-woven cotton fabric and once it came free, Saber slid the main roll slightly off to the side. He placed the large piece of fabric down in front of himself on his workbench and flattened it out. Using his arms and then a long, thin piece of metal, Saber ensure that the cotton sheet was squared up on his desk. With a small knife, he cut off any excess pieces of fabric and fixed the edges of it, ensuring that they were straight. When he was content, he pulled his sewing pin bin close and began to fold the cut edge.

Rather than eyeball it again, Saber decided to use his metal fabric “flattener” to create a straight line. He folded the loose fabric end over itself just enough to reach the ruler, tucked the absolute edge underneath the roll to hid the pitiful looking frills, and then stuck a pin through the roll and the main piece of fabric to keep it in place. With the straight-edge keeping Saber on point with his folds, he was able to roll up the napkin’s edge much quicker than he initially was able to before. It took him a few minutes less to actually finish the single fold, and it even looked a little neater. But, it wasn’t perfect. Saber still needed to adjust his pins slightly to fix up his fold in a few places. This time, however, he was off in only a few places.

The fold done, Saber moved his metal-ruler like thing and picked up his needle and silk thread. Swiftly, he poked the tip of the needle into the bottom corner of the fabric and then tugged it through, pulling it a great distance in order to get enough threading through the hole. Once he had enough, Saber lowered his thread and then poked it back into the cotton fabric, looping it around the initial stab in order to create a solid holding point. With a light tug, Saber pulled the threading down and tightened it in place. The first loop was the most annoying, but Saber was content. He eyeballed the length of the thread and then continued with his sewing. Slowly and steadily, he looped his thread and needle through the fabric, yanking and pulling on it to ensure a tight and almost seamless design all the way up the napkin. As he started to near the end, Saber’s hands remained steady and performed the final touches, but with his final loop he learned that he had a little bit extra thread.

Snagging his scissors, Saber cut the thread down and then finished his loop-knot, anchoring the thread in place firmly. He then twisted the napkin itself and grabbed his metal ruler thing again for its straight edge. Like the previous edge, Saber folded the napkin over and used the sewing pins from the previous fold to hold the new one in place. The bottom edge he kept flat, but he angled the top in order to ensure that there was a slight point formed, and to ensure that the two folds ran alongside one other without crossing over onto each other’s territory. He poked the final pin in place at the tip of the angled fold and then looped more thread through the base of his needle. Again, he stabbed the thin object up through the fabric and started his under-over technique again. It was a little tedious, but Saber let his mind wander as he looped his hands back and forth.

He thought of his female partner, Kitty, and wondered where she was and how she was doing. He had not been with her for a while and the last time they met was at the beach. His cheeks got a little warm at the thought, but he didn’t stay on the memories too long. He simply wondered, and worried, if she was doing well. She had achieved the level of ninety rather quickly so there was no doubt in his mind that she had a good network of friends and allies, but did they treat her well? Did she have any problems in the dungeons and in the fields…? As a Cleric, he also hoped that she kept out of trouble and stuck to the back of the party, but then again he knew her tendancies. She would want to help as much as she could and that may have landed her in the front of the group instead. Saber didn’t mind as a player to see a Cleric being so helpful, but as Saber and as a man he hoped that she didn’t.

A light sigh escaped his lips as he pushed the needle up through the fabric. Just as he pushed, his right hand jerked and the needle stabbed into his left thumb. Instinctively, Saber winced and pulled his hand away. Blood leaked out onto the floor and Saber rumbled low at the sight of his own blood; how annoying. He flicked his wrist before stuffing his thumb into his mouth for a moment, cleaning up the mess as the game sealed the wound automatically for him. It took a few minutes to actually heal but once it did, Saber wiped off his thumb and finished up his work. A final tug pulled the silk tight and then he cut off the excess. After tucking the thread in place and pinching it down, Saber stitched his crafting initials into the bottom left corner of the napkin; FP. With that, he added his second napkin to his pile.

Without missing a beat, Saber placed his thread and needle down, adjusted the items on his workbench to clear up some space, and then reached for the large roll of cotton fabric once more.

: Word Count :
1173

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

Event Progress: 2%

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

He needed to be quicker, more efficient, and more nimble if he wanted to achieve his goal. At the moment, Saber had only two napkins out of his desired twenty and he was already feeling bored, but he couldn’t quit. No he could not stop at two. As he grabbed the cotton fabric roll, the new tailor’s lips pulled into a flat line. He needed to be more efficient. There had to be a way, wasn’t there? Aside from just being quicker with his fingers there probably were a few “better” paths to take, right? Well, without him creating something there probably wasn’t, and without his forge Saber couldn’t exactly fabricate anything from metal. Saber also didn’t have enough wood to make anything fancy, nor did he have the correct crafting class for it. Time was of the essence and he could not waste it doing anything petty.

Saber let out a huff as he cut out another piece of fabric. He was stuck doing this then, wasn’t he? Cutting the fabric, prepping, flattening, rolling, and threading it, and then folding and threading the next edge before finally signing the napkin; that was his routine. It seemed to boring and not as exciting as bashing metal and making sparks fly. Though, that was his life now. This was the life of a tailor. How dull. Messing with fabric was fun, and Saber enjoyed it at first, but to do this kind of work was tedious. As he folded over the frayed edge and started to stick sewing pins through the fabric, Saber grimaced. This kind of sucked. However, he didn’t hate it entirely. It was a little more rewarding and he accomplished his goals much quicker this way than he did at his forge. He also exerted less energy. Maybe that was why he was bored?

Switching from sewing pins to his needle and thread, Saber continued on with the next step and began to loop his silky thread through the napkin. Yes, maybe that was why he was bored. Saber was far more used to things exploding, yelling, and jumping at this. The quiet, stale air around what he was doing now was the exact opposite of what he usually was a part of. The act of making the napkin he held was slow, quiet, and sort of relaxing. It was so relaxing that he probably would fall asleep eventually if he kept up with his pace. Even so, the change of pace might be good for him. Due to his being comfortable with death and loud noises, some quiet time would sooth his soul. Or at least, that’s what he was now hoping for.

With the final stitch, Saber twisting the napkin and started his second edge-fold. He was bored and the air was stale. His hands worked with a mind-numbing pace and there wasn’t anything exactly flashy about what he was doing. Yet, he was relaxed. Saber didn’t feel afraid of dying or afraid of failure. No, he was slightly afraid that one stitch would be too short or even too long, he feared nicking himself with the needle, and he feared accidentally dropping the needle he held. They were strange feelings, the fears of such simple things, and it was almost laughable that he even felt them. But then it dawned on him…

As Saber finished the final loop of the fold, Saber let out a light huff. He looped another piece of thread through his needle and began to add in his signature onto the cloth; the letters FP. Those feelings weren’t strange, not in the least. Saber’s thoughts were what was strange. Why? Well, the answer was simple. Saber was a human being, wasn’t he? Sitting around and worrying about such simple things was in his nature, so why would it be so different for him not to have those feelings now? Maybe being a Tailor was good for him. Maybe getting away from all of the loud noises would help him get in tune with himself again…

: Word Count :
674

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

Event Progress: 3%

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

There would be a lot of tuning to be had though, as Saber was quite a different man now than he was before. But could he even still be considered a man? The question puzzled him a little, and his nose wiggled as he pulled some more cotton fabric off its roll. He twirled his fabric cutters in his hand for a moment, clutched them, and then sliced a decent chunk of the fabric off the main roll. It was a difficult question to really pin down an answer to. Sure, he was still male physically but he wasn’t exactly human. When he started the game, Saber elected to leave his humanity beyond and chose to be an Elf. It was a race he didn’t see often, and one he honestly sometimes thought he was the only one of. The Elf Assassin was surrounded by Foxtails, Wolf Hairs, Humans, and Half-Alvs. He hadn’t come across many elves in the game; even the Elven People of the Land were scarce. They were so scarce that he hadn’t even met one yet, as if the Elves were just folklore.

So yes, in that aspect Saber was no longer human. He was now an Elf, but how about even deeper? Saber’s mind began to claw at the dirt as he lay the fabric down and started to roll the edge. Since the beginning, Saber had come to terms with the world he was in. He was comfortable with surviving the way he did and did not have any regrets on how he went about his new life. Solitude and perseverance, survival and determination, and will and strength; those were the pairings that he had mentally bound himself to as he started his journey and he stuck to those virtues. Saber was alone in this world from the beginning and he lived every day like that. He had met many people, fought in many battles, and had made a few acquaintances along the way. However, he had not developed any relationships to the extent of calling someone a friend, except for one.

He locked his feelings away, closed off his heart, and kept everyone at arm’s length. That was how Saber worked, and it was what kept him alive. He had goals to reach and jobs to do. He went about them quickly, directly, and did not waver in anything he did. Unlike a few he had met, Saber did not take failure as an option. There was always a way out, always a way forward, and always a way to win, even in the face of an impossible task. Maybe that was why he did better alone, and why he may have lost his sense of humanity. Putting himself into such dangers slowly whittled away at Saber’s mind, and he could sense it even now as he started to thread his needle through the cotton fabric. Saber separated himself from others, forced himself to survive in the world in near complete solitude even when he could have returned to the safety of London at any moment, and it had chipped away at his soul.

At first he didn’t realize it, but now it was becoming clear. Those long nights, the unending days, and the blurred weeks were all a part of the same poison. Saber grew strong because of his lifestyle and leveled quickly, but his mind became numb because of it. Over the course of a few months, Saber lost all concepts of time. All that mattered to him was how many quests he could get in before his body collapsed. It didn’t matter if the sun was up or if the moon was up; could he do the job or not? That was all that mattered. He lost all sense of feelings. He didn’t care if he hurt someone and he didn’t care if someone cared about him; he had quests to complete and dungeons to search. And most importantly, his own personal well-being had become worthless to him. As long as Saber was able to complete his job, his body was simply another tool in his arsenal.

That single thought made Saber grimace. As he finished the first fold and started on the second, he began to think of himself less as a human and more as a machine. With each flick of his wrist, each tug on the thread, and each light poke through the cotton fabric, Saber started to put the pieces together. He was an emotionless soldier who did nothing but fight. He didn’t sit down and eat like normal players, didn’t invite others for quests, and didn’t make phone calls to ask how others were doing nor did he send anyone messages. To others, Saber was most likely a ghost in the world. He appeared when called without a word, and left in silence without as much of a goodbye some times because of him rushing off to the next job. It was almost mechanical, and it honestly made him sad.

But, it was the path he chose. Wasn’t it? Being alone and not having to rely on others was something he wanted and something he chased. Saber didn’t like the idea of putting someone in danger for his own foolish goals, so he kept himself from making friends. And yet, he found Kitty, that blonde fox who embraced him so happily and always seemed to smile when they bumped into each other. She was a diamond gem in his black, sandy beach, and the feelings he had for her were the only true ones he could trust anymore. Saber knew he cared deeply for that woman; there was no doubt about that. Much like the napkin in his hand, like the needle and the silk thread; those feelings were real.

Saber swiftly finished the second fold, cut and tied down the thread. Once that was done, he signed the two signature letters into the fabric. Yes, so maybe he was human or at least alive. If he felt something, it was better than nothing right? Even if those feelings were singular and straight forward, they were still something. It was so strange, and so weird… Feelings…

“How confusing…”

: Word Count :
1033

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

Event Progress: 4%

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

Being human was such a strange thing, wasn’t it? Saber could go about his daily life and never worry about what someone else did or how someone else felt, until it came to Kitty. It was something he didn’t understand and it was something he truly didn’t trust simply because of him not being able to understand it. As he added the fourth napkin to the pile he was steadily building up, there was a slight huff from the Assassin’s lips. This tailoring stuff was going to be the death of him, mentally of course. If he wasn’t careful he might think himself to death over such foolish things. Seriously, he was making napkins and thinking about feelings and humanity. Those were two things Saber never cared about, ever. He was a man who simply did what he needed to do in order to complete his job; all other thoughts were secondary. So why did he care about them now?

Well, boredom was probably a huge factor. Saber hadn’t even realized that his hands moved on their own to cut out the next piece of fabric already and he had subconsciously started to roll the roughed edge up too. While his mind was wandering on dormant lands and his spiritual feet sloshed across the empty tundra of his soul, his body still pushed on to complete the duties given to him. He was conscious enough to know what he was doing and to pay attention to where he was putting his hands, but it was all becoming a blur. He was only on napkin number five and he was bored out of his freaking mind. This crafting class was something he wished he had never picked, but again he didn’t hate it.

As he pinned the fold down with the sewing pins and then started to thread the fold down, Saber continued to let his mind trail off. It was something which passed the time and he was starting to pick up this napkin thing pretty quickly. His folds were a little smoother on this one as compared to the first, his needlework was a little more efficient, and his muscles were beginning to learn the correct amount of pressure that was needed to push the needle through the fabric. He was getting better at the simplest thing he had done so far in the world he was now stuck in, and he was doing it for some banquet he probably wouldn’t even go to or see. That simple fact made Saber question why he was even trying. He could have done anything today, anything at all, but here he was… making napkins.

“My life is going downhill like a snowball.” The thought rumbled through the man’s mind like a train as he finished the first fold and tied down the silk thread. Contrary to what some may think, Saber had it good in the beginning of the game when he was a lower level. Back then, he had one job and one job only; level up. That was it. He woke up whenever he woke up, slept when he felt like it, and fought every second in between. He did nothing else and didn’t have to worry about anything else. Saber learned how to wield a blade, transferred his bow-skills into the world he now lived in, and mastered the art of metalworking as to support his need to bleed. Nothing stopped him back then. No other players could change his mind about his life and nothing got in his way because of his determination.

Now, as he swiftly finished the second fold and began to sign his name into the fifth napkin, Saber realized how different his life was now. After hitting level ninety and getting stuck at the top level, Saber didn’t do anything with his life but craft. That’s all he did for the most part. The battlefields were boring and useless to him, and he was far more interested in creating things than destroying them. But, that thirst still lurked inside of him. And there was also the quest of the Gods on his mind. A few months back, he set out to complete several tasks he had read about in books in between crafting sessions, and he still pursued those tasks. But unlike when he was a lower level, Saber now paid attention to detail. He didn’t waste time and didn’t waste energy; he worked with efficiency to complete his goals rather than just barrel into a fight without thinking. If he were to put his old self beside his new self, Saber had a feeling he probably looked a lot older than he used to.

“That makes me sound like an old geezer…” Saber smirked and let out a soft chuckle as he finished the fifth napkin. Indeed, he was far older in his maturity now than he used to be. Whether that was good or bad, he had no idea.

: Word Count :
828

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

Event Progress: 5%

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

With age came wisdom, and the Assassin was beginning to realize how much of it he had gained. Yet at the same time, he also learned how little of the world he knew. His world was small and there wasn’t exactly much to it. All Saber knew for the most part was how beautiful England was in the game world, as well as how cold dungeons could be. His clothing reflected his adaptation to the cold as well as his preparations for it. After many dives into the dark, lonely places, it was almost second nature for Saber to put on several layers of clothing over his armor. Most people didn’t notice it, but he wore the scarf for more reasons than to just protect his identity when he wanted to remain unnoticed; it kept his face warm!

The Assassin cut into the cotton fabric again and rumbled lightly as he snipped off a decent sized square of it. Once it was cut, he continued with his systematic creation of the holy napkins. He folded the edge over, poked sewing pins through the fabric, and used a straight edge to keep the line neat. Within a minute, he began to push his needle through the fabric and started to sew down the fold. Much like the cotton was doing for Saber’s fingers, the scarf he wore kept his face nice and cozy in the frozen depths of the dungeons he crawled through. It also kept him warm at night when the sun went down. The little stretch of cloth was battered, ripped, burned, torn, and discolored because of its use, but it remained in one piece. After all of the time Saber had been playing, his scarf was the one piece of clothing which remained unchanged, and it acted as much more than just a regular scarf to him.

The scarf was a light blue strip of finely woven cotton. It wasn’t heavy enough to make warm days feel hot or cause discomfort, but it wasn’t so light that it was a waste of space. The scarf was a perfect display of fine craftsmanship and it served its purpose beautifully. Surprisingly enough, it was still a beginner level item. The scarf he wore was with him since the beginning and it was a testament to his abilities. If he had been attacked more or even if he had died once; the scarf probably would no longer exist in this realm. That same quality of work and that same durability, Saber attempted to put into his napkins. He wanted them to be resilient to the numerous dinners they would go through and wanted them to last for a long time. These napkins would hopefully be the last ones his client would ever have to use. The threads were tight, the folds perfectly straight, and the choice of cloth was of high quality in itself. Saber had to appease a strong audience on the night of the dinner, thus he used his best knowledge.

With one more stitch, Saber finished the first fold and then began on the second. He swiftly pinned the cloth down and then starting to weave his needle through it. He was becoming swift with the fingers and nimble with his wrist. Fighting for so long kept his body loose in combat, but it seemed to be helping him here too. His fingers and wrist were flexbile in the tight space of the napkin, his eyes picked out the slightest mistakes in the threading and his attention to detail was absurd because of his focus. These napkins were beautiful, even in his eyes. They shimmered in the faint light and he could only imagine how they would look in the bright hall. It made him smirk.

“Numero six…” Saber muttered as he tied off the end of the thread, finishing the second fold. He moved his needle to the corner of the napkin and then threaded in his name, leaving his signature in the corner before sealing the deal. With number six done, Saber was fourteen away from his goal. Without hesitation, he placed number six onto the pile and carried on with his work.

: Word Count :
697

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

Event Progress: 6%

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

A beat was not missed as Saber unrolled the next bit of cotton cloth, his fabric cutters slicing it off the roll in a brief and fluid motion. The sound made Saber cringe, his spine shivering at the sound of the tear. It was kind of depressing, that noise. It reminded him of much more violent sounds and reminded Saber that even in his normal life, he was still haunted. He was haunted by his decisions, his choices, and his mistakes. They burned in his mind and marked his soul. His eyes had glazed over, their once bright color becoming nothing but a dull blue. If he were to look into the future when he had started, would Saber even recognize himself? Would he be proud of whom he was going to become? Those questions made Saber’s lonely smirk fade back into the stale expression. Would he still make the same choices…?

He never knew that his decisions would lead him here and he never knew how many people he would hurt in the process to reach it. As he folded over the tattered edge of the napkin, hiding the frayed edge beneath the roll, Saber’s mind continued to drift. If he didn’t hide himself away like he was doing to the messy edge, how many people would have accepted him? If he had shown his expressions, talked to someone about his pains, and shared his stories with the others in the world, would he still be alone? He had Kitty, but did he really? She was always away, always playing with others and always doing her own thing… He cared about that woman deeply but it always seemed like their time spent together was so short. Maybe she was embarrassed of him or maybe she was like the others. She smiled to him on the outside, but inside she felt something different. Could she be taking advantage of him?

“Why would you think that?” Saber rumbled to himself and let out a huff. No, she cared for him too. Hell, she told him that she loved him and she had done it with one of the most sincere voices he had ever heard. The short, beautiful little Cleric turned his stone cold heart into a pulsing machine at those words and he nearly collapsed into her. It was during the Snowdonia ball, the ball he never wanted to go to in the first place. But now, he was happy he went. A while afterwards, the two of them found each other on the beach and, well… Kitty showed Saber how deeply she loved him and he had lost all doubt in his mind that he had loved her too. But now as he sat in his dark room, finishing the first fold and beginning to thread through the fabric to seal it down, Saber’s mind was shaking.

This subclass was dangerous. There was no doubt about that. To put a man who never stopped thinking about the world, himself, and the views of others, into such a dark and silent environment with a mindless task was pretty much asking for insanity. Seriously, he was doubting Kitty? That was insane in its own right. That beautiful woman had not lied to him yet and every time she saw him, her smile was the brightest and most beautiful thing he had ever seen because he knew it was a true smile. Though, what did she do during all the times they were apart? Did she sit around and craft? Did she help the others…? Or maybe… No, no she wouldn’t do that. If she loved him, why would she?

The Elf let out a huff as he finished the thread on the first fold and placed the napkin and his tool down onto his workbench. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he reopened them, he stared up at the ceiling of his cold room and just imagined Kitty… She was so beautiful, so kind, and simply being near him she made him happy. And to think, he had almost killed her when they had first met. She was annoying, pushy, and persistent. She always appeared when he needed her and he bumped into her when he didn’t want her. Though, lately, he seemed to have a hard timing finding her… He had her on his list of contacts but he never really messaged her. He didn’t ever think of it as he never wished to disturb the woman in her daily life. Saber thought himself as a bane more than anything else so he had no right to bother such a lovely lady… But he wanted her, even if it was just a few words back and forth.

“Dammit Saber… How foolish can you be…?” The man rumbled as he cursed himself and then returned to his work. He swiftly folded the second edge and used the safety pins to secure it. With his straight edge, he adjusted the roll and fixed it up to look nice. Then, he flattened it down and began to thread his needle through it. His teeth clenched together, Saber forced himself to continue and tried to get his mind to focus. He began to thread the second fold and worked his fingers steadily and carefully through the cotton fabric. The silk thread shimmered, glowed, and even that reminded Saber of Kitty. Her long flowing blonde hair was so soft and smooth to the tough and his fingers were able to slide through it with ease. Damn… She was like a living angel almost…

“I sound like a child in love with a movie actress…” The man muttered as he finished the second fold, tying off the end before swiftly leaving his name in the corner of it. He let out a rumble and placed the seventh napkin onto his growing pile. Thirteen remaining and he was already starting to feel the hurt; not in his fingers, but in his soul. He considered sending Kitty a message but he restrained himself, for now at least.

: Word Count :
1014

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

Event Progress: 7%

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

It hurt like hell, to be honest. For once, Saber was forcing himself to not actually reach out and talk to someone. It felt weird and it wasn’t something he was used to. In most situations, Saber was the one doing the ignoring, not the other way around. Then again, he didn’t exactly want to be bothered on most days. Though, days like this, Saber wished he wasn’t such a fool. It would have helped to have someone there with him, even if he only said a few words to them. Just listening to someone talk could have been a little reassuring to him, as silence was something that was rotting his soul away bit by bit. He could feel it. Not only was he a different person from when he started, not only was he a much more difficult person to deal with, but he was less of one. He was less of a human being than he was when he started.

“Back here again, eh…?” Saber muttered as he pulled on his cloth roll, unraveling another bit of cotton cloth before cutting it. Damn, no wonder he was partially insane. The fool thought in circles when he wasn’t in combat. When he didn’t have something that could take up all of his attention, Saber’s mind went wild. It was always like this, wasn’t it? He was always thinking of foolish crap that he never needed to, wasted his time on pitiful wishes and goals, and always looked for ghosts in the dark. It was pathetic of him.

“Was that why I choose to fight…?” He whispered, frowning as his fingers continued on their work. He went silent after he asked himself the question and stared at his fingers, watching them roll up the edge of the napkin and then pin it down flat. He didn’t have an answer. Well, not a truthful one. Saber could tell himself anything he wanted, but the answer to that question was something he couldn’t find. Why did he start to fight? It couldn’t have been because it was his only choice, as Saber could have gone about things anyway he wanted. Hell, he could have just been a merchant if he felt like it, so why did he fight? Maybe because it was his nature, or because it was because it was what he knew as a child. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because he knew what he would become. Could that have been it?

Saber never knew how to handle other people. He didn’t do well in groups, sucked at communicating with others, and never fit in. He was always alone, even as a child. In school he was smart and quick, never failed and pushed to be the best but he did so at the cost of friends. Even when he went to college, Saber still didn’t do too well with others. His father was a Spartan, a man from Greece, and his mother was one of the sweetest women he had ever come across, aside from Kitty of course. He had been taught to survive from when he was young and that need was burned into Saber’s soul. Maybe that was why he chose to run off on his own. This world was new to him and he didn’t know it, so he reverted to the only thing he knew; fighting.

“How childish…” The words rumbled out of Saber’s lips as he spoke. He poked the final sewing pin through the fabric and then snagged his needle and thread. Without wasting time, he swiftly began to sew his pattern into the cloth. It was childish, very childish of him to do such a thing now that he thought about it. Instead of actively seeking out others and trying to get ahold of the situation like a sane person, Saber does the complete opposite. The idiot checked his settings, his gear, got a feel for his new body, and then immediately left the safest place in the entire world just to fight. He could have been eaten by something, seriously.

But, he wasn’t. No Saber did something very few did when they first joined up; he fought, learned, leveled, and survived. Saber barreled through the game like a bullet. His pace was unmatched in the leveling game and he marched across the world defiantly. He never faltered, never quit, and he had yet to be killed. The Assassin was a ghost. He doubted anyone knew his name, let alone his face, and he doubted he had a large reputation among many of his fellows, unless they were a part of his underground network. Yes, because of his leveling Saber quickly became a prime choice for lower levels when it came to protection. Once he reached a high enough level, Saber had hired himself off as a mercenary for People of the Land and fellow players. In exchange for his time and their money, Saber played guard dog, escort, and was even an informant. He did jobs very few people cared to do and he did them very well. He even killed other players several times both for money, and because of his reputation.

“I should’ve just kept to myself…” The man mumbled as he finished the first fold, cutting the thread and tying it down. He quickly started on the second fold and started sewing as quickly as he could. As much as he hated to say it, being by himself probably would have been the best choice. Due to his personality, Saber didn’t fit in well with others. He sucked in groups and was strong in a pinch. He dealt with stress easily and had no problems with doing things that other people never dared to. If it meant leveling and getting money, Saber was content. He didn’t care what it took… as long as he became stronger.

“And is that how you still feel… Elf?” The voice rumbled out from Saber’s core, causing the man to pause for a moment. He stared at the napkin in front of him in his hands, his disturbed face turning into something far more dark and depressed.

“Of course it isn’t…” Saber answered the voice in his head with a quiet whisper, finishing off the second fold on the eight napkin quickly. He was answered by a huff and then silence as he swiftly removed the safety pins. The demon who had invaded his soul in his lower levels was an anomaly, and something Saber probably would never understand. The man let out a sigh and swiftly signed the letters ‘FP’ into the napkin before placing it onto the pile.

: Word Count :
1109

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

Event Progress: 8%

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

At first, Saber never had such violent tendencies. At first, he just played the game. He played to level and played to win. However, the longer he played and the more he killed, the worse things became. The fragile mind of the soloist twisted, turned, and his sanity was slowly chipped away. He killed other players, killed People of the Land, slaughtered thousands of monsters, and felt pain that no one should have experienced. It hurt, and he forced himself to become someone no one should be cursed to be. Saber became a relentless, merciless killer. He never slept, hardly ate, and never stopped. Day in and day out, the Assassin marched across the world and did his jobs without batting an eyelash. He never stopped for anyone or anything except for when he body could not physically continue. When fighting became impossible or too difficult for his body, that was when he found a hole to hide in and slept for a few hours. Yet those sleeps were short, extremely short.

As he remembered his hellish trials, Saber unraveled more cotton fabric and cut it free. Without missing a beat, he folded over the frayed edge and poked the safety pins through it. Much like he was doing now, Saber moved like clockwork. He went from area to area, completed quest after quest, did job after job, killed monster after monster, person after person, and with each step he took he cast away a little more of the man he used to be. Others didn’t bother with such things, played with their laid back attitudes and took their times with leveling. Others enjoyed the world, had fun, but Saber was a lost cause. Before he even bumped into his first adventurer, he was already infected. He was infected with the poison of individuality, hate, and arrogance. By the time he met his first fellow player, Saber was already hard-set on his goal of leveling to the top and doing so alone. He wouldn’t let anyone change that.

But, of course, that changed very quickly. Very shortly after Saber’s leveling accelerated, he met his first interest. She was a short little wolf hair by the name of Caerbannog, and she was a cute little thing. She was kind to him and could keep pace with him in battle, but she was young in his eyes. By then, Saber had already killed his first handful of other players and People of the Land and his soul was already beginning to darken. The world was caving in on him at a rapid pace and Saber had begun to find joy in his loneliness because in his eyes, he had nothing else. Back then, he had no one by his side. He had no one to talk to, no one to talk about his adventures with and no one to share his life with. Whether that was by choice or just bad timing, he didn’t know… but when Caerbannog appeared, things changed. And they didn’t change for the better.

The man huffed as his mind treaded on the past, but his eyes remained glued to his current work. He finished pinning the first fold down and then swiftly started to push his needle through the fabric. Reminiscing was good, and it was helping him pass the time, but he had to keep focused. Maybe he should have done that when he was with Caerbannog too. That little woflhair approached Saber almost without care for who he was and offered him lunch. Hell, she even cooked it for him. They then fought in two battles together, but in the second one Saber’s mind finally broke. At the sight of his comrades being hurt, Saber learned who was truly inside of him. There was a demon inside of him, a blood thirsty beast who wanted to control him and every aspect of his being. This demon took advantage of Saber’s emotions, manipulated him, and then took over his mind. Once he had control, the demon forced Saber to commit true murder; he killed a beast against his will. It was something he would never forget.

The man blinked a few times as he caught himself in the middle of the painful memory and saw that his hands had automatically started on the second fold. He had finished the first and was almost done pinning down the second fold when he came to from his depressing thoughts. The sight caused Saber to hesitate. He blacked out and had completely forgotten what he was doing. Was his past really that dark? It couldn’t be. All he did was play a game! Then again, he had turned into some kind of machine of sorts so yes, it could have been pretty bad. Still, Saber never expected that he would lose himself in such thoughts. It was so strange and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.

Without letting himself get distracted again, Saber swiftly finished rolling upt he second fold and started to threw his needle through it. He sewed up the fold quick, his hands and fingers working at a slightly faster pace but he controlled himself. Saber was going to lose himself if he kept sitting down, but he wanted to finish what he started. If he was to do that, he had to remain focused. He had to do everything he could to keep his mind from drifting too far. If he did, he might find himself staring off into space or even falling asleep. It drove Saber to focus even harder and within minutes, he finished the second fold and even finished stitching in his crafting initials. Number nine was laid down on top of the pile and added to the count.

: Word Count :
961

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

Event Progress: 9%

[Saber]

Do you believe in ghosts?

“I’m going to think myself into oblivion.” Saber rumbled and instinctively began on the next napkin. You know, he really didn’t want to do this anymore (and I don’t want to write it anymore). He was getting bored (and I’m running out of ideas). Doing the same thing over and over again was extremely tedious and the only thing Saber was getting out of this was probably some meager amount of experience. He doubted he was making any money off of the excursion and he highly, highly doubted he would gain some kind of recognition for it. The chef would most likely take his napkins, scatter them around the dining hall in some weird fashion, and then not even praise Saber for his work. Saber also doubted that anyone would even care about his shops’ initials on the things. They probably wouldn’t even look!

The thought of wasting his time infuriated the man, and Saber’s teeth clenched together. He glared at the tenth napkin and elected that this would be the last one. Screw twenty of them. If the Chef wanted more, Saber would speed craft them for him right then and there. Ten would be enough, wouldn’t they? Hell, the Chef probably hired a bunch of other people to help out as well, so why should Saber kill himself over making so many? There was no excuse for it and honestly, he didn’t want to bother with it. He was tired of making the same stupid things over and over again, and he was a little tired of his mind being obnoxious and running off on its own like a distracted school child. He was annoyed in general, really, but mainly because he couldn’t focus.

As Saber’s blood began to boil at the thought of wasting time, he finished pinning the frayed fold down and started to sew it to the main piece of fabric. It didn’t take very long for him to finish, or did it? It didn’t matter, to be completely honest. He sewed. That’s it. And he was pissed while he did it. The edge was a little off in some places because of his anger, but Saber wasn’t foolish enough to leave these spots be. No, he was a good little tailor and fixed them, ensuring that his line was straight. Within minutes, he finished the first fold and twirled the fabric in his hands to that he could start on the second edge. Much like the first, Saber was swift but remained consistent with his other creations.

He was angry, that was true, but Saber wasn’t going to let that anger get in the way of perfection. He had a client to please and even though he didn’t want to, he had to give said client everything he had. Saber’s mind swirled and he considered just bailing on the entire project, but he had already put so much time into it that going back would be pointless. Even so, he was unhappy. Kitty showing up probably wouldn’t ease his pain, as much as he hated to admit it. Out of everything in the world, Saber simply could not stand his time being wasted simply because he had so little of it to give in the first place. Between questing, eating, and sleeping, Saber had very little time in his eyes. He needed to remain active and kept himself busy all day, every day. Anything which stood in his way to stop that was generally pushed out of his mind and left to rot. His quest for knowledge and power was a priority for Saber, and even Kitty would have to take a back seat to his path if necessary… Saber had a goal in mind, and it was honestly quite close. He simply had to keep reaching, and keep moving.

This chef had requested such simple things, but little did he know that Saber was dumb enough to accept it. As Saber finished placing the sewing pins on the cloth, he let out a huff and snatched up his needle. The damned fool, what did he expect out of the adventurers? Perfection? Did he expect Saber to grow at all or something for performing such a simple task? Or maybe it was just because he needed help… No, there had to be some kind of crappy reason behind the hellish request. Was he lazy?! Yea, that was it! The chef was too damn lazy to do it all himself, so he asked the adventurers for help! That was the perfect excuse!

“….what?” Saber spat as he finished the second fold, His boiling anger vanishing in a split second as he realized what he was thinking about. Seriously, that was stupid wasn’t it? Probably. This is number ten right? Yea, ten percent. Finish up, stupid.

“Man… There’s something wrong with me…” The words were mumbled as Saber patiently finished off the tenth napkin, signing his store’s initials into the bottom corner. Once the napkin was complete, he added it to the pile and let out a heavy sigh.

Twenty napkins were going to be way too tedious for him. Instead, he was going to move onto the next stage of his request; the table cloths. If there were other tailors helping out, there was no doubt in Saber’s mind that he had done his part in the request. He wished to put more forward, but time was of the essence. And so, he cast his materials into his inventory and carefully rolled up his napkins into a slightly larger bit of cloth, securing them for transport and protecting them from the elements. He then wrapped some string around the roll, securing it closed and so that it could be easily carried. Once that was done, Saber cleared off his workbench of the tools he didn’t need and then placed the bundle of napkins down by his bed. It was time for stage two…

: Word Count :
988

Coded By Saber of L33T T3@M

Event Progress: 10%