Taylor - Hot soup

"Inventory, number one," I said.

An iron pot of steaming hot stew appeared in my hands, as hot as it had been the moment I'd put it in inventory. I couldn't put living things in there, but non-living things seemed to be held there in a timeless state.

The trunk opened, and I slung the boiling stew into his face.

He screamed, and I grabbed my knife and stabbed upward at his face.

CRITICAL HIT: 10 hp!

5hp!

5 hp!

Two other men were coming around the corner, while a third man was holding Dad.

***

The beginning