Exile: Escape from the Pit
Before entering the Portal, a thousand thoughts run through your mind. What will Exile be like? Will I ever see the sun again? How could this happen to me? How? Why? What? The thoughts aren't so different for anyone.
But eventually, the brief eternity before the Portal ends, and you are thrown through into the painful vortex of crimson storm, shot through with gold bolts of lightning. A terrible scream ran your ears. Then, suddenly, the painful journey was over, and you lurched forward into the cavern that would be your home.
It's terribly dark, but surprisingly, not cold, but rather hot and humid. As your eyes adjust to the dim light, you realize you are in a roughly-hewn fort, hacked out of stone. It's crude, but a lot better than you were expecting. The portal roars behind you, then retreats into the stone. As you take stock of your surroundings, you notice the prevalence of mushrooms on the earth, every spare patch within the fort seems to be coated in mushrooms. It doesn't take you long to decide not to wonder how they managed to grow this many mushrooms. The ceiling is covered in some kind of glowing fungi, emitting enough light to create a twilight under the Earth.
Questions run through your mind. What do they eat down here? What do they drink? How have they lived this long?
The answers will have to wait until later. A man yells from a few meters away, "Four more from the surface...right."
The man approaches. He's ghostly pale and quite thin, almost emaciated. He does his best to put on a reassuring smile, but it's rather obvious that it is insincere.
"Welcome, newcomers, to Exile."
He seemed to trail off for a moment, unsure what to say. Then he slaps his forehead and pulls out a thin iron key and steps forward, unlocking their manacles one by one.
"For the foreseeable future, and probably for the rest of all our lives, this will be your home. The rest of the caves aren't very welcoming, so we can at least give you a proper welcome here. I'm sure you have a lot of questions. Fortunately, the Empire, typically courteous, threw you down just in time for dinner."
He pointed towards a small, rectangular structure. "That's the mess hall. I've got to go tell the cook to get extra mushrooms for the meal."
Before anyone could say anything, the man had walked off. Very quickly.