2-16. Plague
Standing before the Norcastle main gate, Sam Harvin shifted uncomfortably as he tried to adjust his armor. It was a new addition, and he still hadn’t grown accustomed to wearing it. But according to his captain, it was strong enough to stand up to Voxxian claws and teeth, so Sam was more than willing to endure a little discomfort.
“Quit fidgeting,” said his partner, Lorelai. She was a middle-aged woman with grey-streaked, black hair, and she reminded him of nothing so much as a middle school teacher. Not surprising, considering that it really hadn’t been that long ago since he’d been in one of those classrooms. “Nobody’s going to take you seriously if you keep messing with your armor. And look alive. We have a job to do, in case you forgot.”
He rolled his eyes, saying, “I know.”
“You say that, but the fact that I have to keep reminding you to pay attention tells me that you don’t really take this seriously. We’re the first line of defense if we see another attack.”
“I know,” he groaned. Indeed, that had been hammered into him during the six weeks of training he’d endured after awakening his archetype. Not for the first time, he wished he’d chosen one of the non-combat options, but he’d been too enamored with the idea of becoming a powerful warrior that he’d never even considered anything but becoming a Warrior, and then, upon reaching level ten, the Guard class.
He'd regretted it ever since. Sure, he was stronger, faster, and more durable than he’d ever been, but his levels had lagged behind his peers’ who’d chosen non-combat archetypes. For instance, his older sister’s friend, Jess, had been offered a Healer archetype, which she’d parlayed into a powerful variant class called Light Keeper. Since then, her levels had shot up – but then again, that was true of all the town’s Healers.
“You’re doing it again,” cautioned Lorelai, jerking him back to attention. “Pay attention, or I’m going to recommend you for punishment duty.”
“I was paying attention,” he lied. The problem was that, while he knew the wilderness was dangerous, he didn’t have the first-hand experience with it that most of the town’s citizens did. After the world had been transformed, he, his sister, and his mother had taken shelter in the local church. So, while others were fighting for their lives against suddenly mutated animals or monstrous creatures from some other reality, he’d been safe and sound in the ancient castle-turned-cathedral.
Then, over the following couple of years, that church had become the centerpiece of what would become Norcastle. So, unlike most of the others, he’d never had to deal with the dangers the new world represented. Sure, like everyone else, he knew what was out there. But knowing and experiencing were two different things, and Sam’s first real brush with true danger had only occurred after he’d chosen his archetype and set himself down the path to becoming a Guard.
That hadn’t ended well – he’d struggled to even hold his ground during the curated hunting expeditions the city’s defense force used to train combatants – and he’d been regretting his choices ever since.
A slap on the back of his head once again brought him back to reality. He was about to say something to Lorelai that he would no doubt regret when he caught sight of something moving near the tree line. He squinted, using Enhanced Sight to zoom in on the anomaly, and asked, “Is that a person?”
Lorelai, who’d been glaring at him, followed his line of sight and focused in on the person striding out of the forest. “I think it is,” she said. “Is it one of the gatherers? Or a hunter?”
“I don’t think so,” Sam said, tightening his grip on his spear. Outsiders weren’t completely unheard-of. There were a few small settlements in the region, and Norcastle had even played host to an emissary from another city a few hundred miles away. However, almost no one was stupid enough to traipse around the wilderness alone. “You don’t recognize him, do you?”
Lorelai said that she didn’t, which worried Sam. She was annoying and a bit of a hard-ass, but Lorelai was very good at her job. And she had a great memory, especially when it came to people. Sam would have been surprised if she hadn’t memorized the faces of every single hunter or gatherer who’d left the city during her shift.
Soon enough, the figure came close enough that Sam recognized him as a short, sandy-haired man wearing curiously anachronistic clothing and carrying a staff. But there was something about the way he carried himself that put Sam on edge. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was bothering him until Lorelai said, “He’s completely relaxed.”
People didn’t exactly avoid the wilderness. Plenty of locals still ventured outside the city’s walls, and with some degree of regularity. However, when they did so, it was with significant caution. Sam had learned to recognize it. Shifting eyes. Tense shoulders. Careful steps. Everyone who left Norcastle knew that they were walking into danger.
But this man? He was completely at ease.
As he drew closer, Sam took in more details. He had a beard, though it looked like it had been inexpertly hacked short. His blonde hair was curly, and had grown over his ears. And his complexion was fair, but with just enough tint to suggest that he spent most of his life outdoors. He wore a large pack on his back, and his wooden staff looked more like a series of twisted roots than a straight shaft.
“He’s not wearing shoes,” said Lorelai.
Sam glanced at the man’s feet, and sure enough, his pants ended just above his ankles. Below that was nothing but bare skin.
“Weird.”
“Very.”
The man finally got close enough that Sam could use Inspect, which was one of his Guard skills:
| Name: Elijah Hart Archetype: Healer Level: 19
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