When Hunger Leads to Adventure

Oh it's happening. It's definitely here. You look around outside at what would be your first shop. Fluffy, warm pastries paired best with a steaming cup of coffee. The thought had kept you smiling down to this very moment. For now, somethin to eat. Some donuts.

“Raspberry Vinaigrette doughnut? Smoked scallion bear claw? We have a nice cilantro mushroom cruller special today.” You scowl. The server says “Oh, sorry, maybe you’re not aware that Spice Holes only serves savory pastries. A lot of newbies like the leek croissants?”

"Y'know," you confess, "I totally thought a place named Spice Holes would be serving something more—uh—lascivious." The server nods. "I see. Maybe you'd prefer the shop next door, Piquant Pits. There's also Zesty Gapes on 7th and National." Appetite waning, you leave the shop and

head down the street, walking aimlessly. None of those places really were what you’re looking for. You notice a light shimmering down an alleyway. Drawn to it inexplicably, you find yourself in front of a grimy window and a single wooden door. Before you can think, you knock.

After waiting 10 minutes, a person appears at the door. "Hello," you say, with a trembling voice. The person doesn't answer, but allows you to enter his house. You notice that the house was messy and full of stuff, there was so much stuff that you couldn't even take a single step

The scent is hard to place but perfectly diffused. You follow your host with dread. “Where are we?” you ask. “Welcome to the hoard!” you hear, the walls begin to topple. You dive through newspaper particulate, gasping, nearly free when someone grips your ankle and pulls you back.