“Lie down,” the medic instructs. “You don’t know how hurt you are.”
I follow his instructions, still flicking my eyes around as they lower me to a bed, removing my pack for me and placing it on the floor. The inside of the building that they all came out of is more inviting than any room I’ve been in so far, though that’s not a very high bar given the fact that I’ve only just come out of the complex. The medics took me through a place that evocated the word tavern, through sparsely-populated tables and boards with dozens of papers nailed to them.
There were more eyes on me than I’m really comfortable with, but oh well. I can always just change up my face if someone from the wall comes around and asks after me.
Now, though, I’m in a back room. They princess-carried me here, and now I rest on a hard wooden platform with a soft blanket under me. It absorbs the blood that still wicks off the parts of my cut-up shirt that I allowed to remain there.
“You’re going to be okay,” the same medic says. I blink up at him, taking in his half-masked face, and I try using Appraise.
Name: Alder Vessen
Age: 25
Race: Human
Class: Medic
Level: 8
Last Used Skill: Triage
Not a combat-oriented class. I think I could kill him if I needed, but I caught a few glances of armored individuals on my way in. There were two that I was successfully able to Appraise, both of which were level 12. Two others had Appraise fail on them, so I’m assuming it’s higher.
Speaking of which, it’s looking like nobody else here really has Appraise. As far as I can tell, my stat sheet still has my race down as ???, my age down as 0, and my class as Bloodspawn, which definitely isn’t what the others around me would be expecting.
Is Appraise rare? I have it, but nobody’s used any skill like that to find out what I am.
Appraise (Legendary)
Tier: Bronze
Level: 2
Huh. So it is.
That’s good to know.
I feel a rough, callused hand brush against my forehead, and I tense. It takes everything I have
“She’s not that hurt,” Alder says. He gestures to the other three. “I can handle this.”
“Back to your posts,” one of the other medics—a woman, this one—says.
The other three disperse, exiting the room.
I’m tempted to tear into Alder for his XP, but that’s stupid. There’s powerful people in this lobby, and killing someone here is certain to bring them onto me.
Plus, he does seem to be nice.
Alder frowns as his fingers play over my mind. He’s clearly still using his skill, and I think of its name. Triage is a medical term, and it means something along the lines of “preliminary medical assessment.” I guess he’s analyzing my wounds? I wonder what he’ll see.
I think back through the list of injuries I’ve gathered.
“Recently severed hand, deep gut puncture, twenty-seven minor lacerations, four major lacerations,” he mutters, taking a step back from me. I don’t think I’m supposed to be able to hear him, but my ears are sharp. Louder, he says, “What did you say your name was, miss?”
“Evelyn,” I say, intentionally adding vocal fry to my voice, making myself sound more pained.
“Last name?” he asks. At my look he says, “It’s just for procedure. You don’t have to share it if you don’t want to.”
Not sharing a last name will make me suspicious, won’t it? Acting tells me that it’s much better to be the strange woman who stumbled out of the woods than the strange woman who refuses to give up her identities.
Think, think, think… mentally, I flick back through the images of the researchers I saw. I think of the woman whose appearance I’ve stolen.
No. Not Jade. With Temporary Shape Self still active, I don’t look like her, and we’re close enough to the wall that it’s possible Alder actually personally knew her.
I like the idea of the name being a precious gem, though, so I cycle through gem names in my head until I find one that sounds right.
“Carnelian,” I tell him. Sensing an opportunity to solidify my act more, I add a little quaver as I repeat myself, “E-Evelyn Carnelian.”
“Evelyn… Carnelian,” he says, nodding as he writes my name down on a paper. “So, Evelyn, are you at liberty to share how exactly you survived enough damage to kill three people?”
That sets me on edge immediately, though obviously I don’t show it. Alder’s probing for information, but I can’t tell if it’s just because he’s curious or because he knows something.
Acting comes to help me once more.
“Same way most do,” I grunt, exaggerating how much any movement pains me. “Skills, yeah?”
“I’m sorry,” Alder says immediately, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
I glance at him, hiding my suspicion, but I can’t detect any deception. That’s not to say there is none, but still.
“Here,” he says finally. “I’ll get you a health potion. With that and a day of solid rest, your remaining wounds will be righted.”
“Thank you,” I reply, unsure of what else to say. Lying prone makes me feel weak, makes this conversation even harder to manage when the standing Medic practically towers over me. I close my eyes, reminding myself that I do have options.
If he acts upon me, I’ll Bloodstep behind him and attack him, going straight for the neck or somewhere else vital, and then use Shape Blood to cut his vision off and prevent a mess on the floor as I kill him. I picture the steps I would take, adjusting for defensive skills. The image of cleanly murdering him is realistic enough that it’s almost calming.
“I’ll be right back,” Alder says. I crack open my eyes enough to see him walking away with purpose, leaving the door to this room ajar behind him.
Dealing with people is tiring. If I had realized how much effort this would take, I would’ve just hid out in the forest and waited for my objective to tick down.
Objective: Remain free
Satisfy this quest by not being captured by any means when the timer expires.
Time remaining: 7:47:43
I sigh. No, coming here was the best choice.
There were a lot of risks in coming to this town, of course, many issues I got lucky on. For one, if anybody recognized the uniform I’m in, there would probably be suspicion of some kind. It’s not an unreasonable concern, since we’re only a few miles from the wall. I tried to minimize that possibility by drawing more attention to the blood and mud stains all over it as well as tearing parts of it to shreds, and it’s worked so far, but it was still a risk. There’s also the risk that one of them deeply questioned why a girl like me was even in the woods in the first place, but Acting has successfully pulled me through that.
The risks of staying in the forest were worse. The objective is still going, and I’m a lot more confident in fooling these new humans than I am in continuing to evade the wall guards. Once they figure out I’ve killed one of them, they’re definitely not going to stop looking through the woods.
I just need to stay free for another twelve or so hours and I’ll gain the reward, whatever it is. That should be doable.
The door swings fully open again, and Alder walks back in, holding a spherical glass bottle with bright-red fluid in it in one hand and a stack of clothes in the other. He walks over to me and places the bottle that has to be the stamina potion onto a nightstand to the left of me.
“Drink this when you’re well enough to move,” he says, placing his hand on my forehead again. After he’s satisfied that I’m not about to die or whatever, he places the clothes on the same nightstand. “Here’s a change of clothes. I’m sure you’re tired. Rest well.”
He pats me on the head once and leaves, closing the door this time. Finally, I take a good look at the place I’m in.
The room isn’t very large. Apart from the makeshift bed I’m on, there’s just the nightstand to my left, a wooden wall to my right, and a few small closets with glass doors on the opposite wall ten feet away, each of them stocked with what looks like medical supplies. A single wooden stool is the only other furnishing. It’s not run-down, not exactly, but it feels like a small room at an inn that was converted to be something
Where are my exits? There’s a window behind me—I can see the sun coming in through it. There’s a door as well. I can Bloodstep through either of those the moment someone hostile to me comes in.
My injuries are healing fast, but Demonic Heritage can only do so much. I sit up enough to grab the potion, uncork it with my teeth, and I down it. The potion is surprisingly fruity and sweet.
It burns as it goes down, and the aftertaste turns to ash on my tongue. As it does, a sense of warmth starts in my chest and radiates out through the rest of my body, filling me from my head to my toes.
My wounds start to close just a bit faster, the health potion acting in tandem with Demonic Heritage.
I’m still internally wounded, so I don’t want to move too fast, but I’m a lot less injured than I made them think, so I swing myself off the makeshift bed and change, practically tearing the bloodstained uniform off in exchange for the simple clothes Alder left for me. A thin forest-green shift and a light coat are just enough to avoid indecency, insofar as I understand the concept. I stash the ragged uniform in my pack in case I need it later.
Afterwards, I wait. Now that I’m no longer bloody, in human hands, and am no longer wearing the very conspicuous guard.
While I lie there, I think. What do I do now?
Obviously, I need to leave this area. Even if the whole Underground Site thing is supposed to be secret, which is looking increasingly plausible, there’s a non-zero chance that officers from the wall come to this town asking after me. Until I level up, I don’t think there’s a way for me to hide my missing hand.
After roughly four hours have passed, I put my plan into motion. I don’t have to fake the reinvigorated energy coursing through me when I stand and walk to the door. It’s unlocked, thankfully, so I don’t need to make a hasty escape.
By my best estimate, it’s a little past noon now. The building is bustling with activity compared to the morning, though that’s not saying much. My door doesn’t lead straight to the main hall where the bulk of the activity is, but I can hear a dozen voices overlapping each other from the room that was nearly silent earlier.
I find myself in a narrow hallway, doors on either side marked with Common text indicating their purposes—restrooms, a kitchen, and a couple of offices.
As I start making my way towards the main hall, one of the office doors swing open. Alder steps out. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me, which makes me think there’s some magic applied to the door I came out of, but he does take a moment to look at me.
“You recovered fast,” he finally says after a few moments spent awkwardly staring.
“I did,” I say. “Where am I?”
He frowns. “You don’t know the name of the town?”
This is the make-or-break moment. If Acting doesn’t pull through here, I’m in hot water.
“I… my memory isn’t very good,” I say, holding myself with my arms. I gaze at the ground, injecting nervousness into my voice. “I hit my head really hard a… a while ago.”
I look up just in time to see his expression soften. “I’m sorry to hear that. This town isn’t large enough to warrant a proper name. It’s Outpost 17. An adventuring town.”
He says the word adventuring with enough vitriol that it actually surprises me.
“Apologies,” he says, seeing my reaction. “I shouldn’t be so rude in front of a fresh recovery.”
“Outpost 17,” I repeat. That seems to line up with what the map said. This is no true town, just a hub of some kind. I wasn’t expecting it to hold adventurers, but it’s less surprising given the armored men and women in the lobby. “Okay. I… I want to get to the city. My—my memories are broken up, but I know… this isn’t the place I’m meant to be.”
Acting advanced to level 8!
You are now 225% more likely to remain undetected when impersonating another individual.
Alder nods. “There’s a train that arrives once a day just around midnight. It travels through many other Outposts, but it also leads to big cities. Ravendale, Arcwater, and the like.”
At my blank stare, he elaborates, “The closest large city is Ravendale. I think you’d like it there.”
Not that you know me at all, prick.
I’d be more annoyed at him if he hadn’t literally given me the clothes on my back.
“Can you show me?” I ask him. “The train.”
“I can,” he says. “I’m off duty in fifteen minutes. I’ll take you then?”
I nod, and he returns to his office.
Fifteen minutes later, he exits again to find me still standing there, this time with my pack on my back.
“Come,” he says, gesturing for me to follow. I do.
As we exit, I see how many people are in the lobby now. It’s not a huge building, but it’s sizable, fifty feet by fifty feet with rows of tables, each of them mostly full of people wearing varying kinds of armor and carrying a few different weapons. I see swords, axes, glaives, spears, and the odd pistol here and there. None of them seem to have anything like the R-Class firearm in my pack.
I feel a few stares on me as I walk behind Alder, and I don’t let my wariness show. I highly doubt they know what I am. Much higher odds that they’re just looking because I’m a new face wearing an attractive woman’s body. Acting tells me to acknowledge a few of them with nods, and I do. They turn away soon after.
Alder takes me through the town, which doesn’t really have anything of note other than the building we were just in. The streets are near-empty, while the buildings are run-down and mostly shuttered apart from a few eateries and a single general store. Most of the people in this town must’ve concentrated themselves in that building.
The Medic answers my unasked question. “Outposts almost always look like this. Most of the work to be done here is by killing for money and supporting those who kill for money. I happen to fall in the latter.”
He doesn’t seem to like the adventurers very much. I don’t have enough experience with them to tell if his dislike is misguided or not.
We don’t speak much more as he leads me to the only other new-looking building in town, a simple steel structure maybe two hundred feet long next to a straight set of rails that cuts directly perpendicular to the strip of land that Outpost 17 is built on. Beyond the railroad is untamed wilderness.
“It costs two silver to get on the train,” Alder says. He glances at me, smiling wryly. “Something tells me you might not have that.”
I shake my head. I don’t even know how much a silver is worth. Is two silvers a little? A lot? The knowledge I’m loaded with doesn’t tell me that.
“I can spot you,” Alder says. “You don’t deserve to be stuck here with the rest of us.”
I look at him quizzically, but he just looks back with a lopsided half-grin.
“Thank you,” I say. “I truly do appreciate it.”
“It’s not a problem,” he says. “Would you like to return to the hub for the time being?”
I’m smart enough to deduce what “hub” is from context, but the persona I’m putting on isn’t. “The hub?”
“Oh, the building we had you in,” he says. “You can wait for the train there. It’s warmer than it is out here.”
I’ve barely noticed the chill. Still, it would be a little suspicious to just stand outside for another seven hours, so I return with him.
The time passes surprisingly quickly. I don’t speak with many people, and Alder doesn’t make me, apparently assuming whatever brain damage I’ve got going on is enough to keep me from socializing, but the hub has books that he offers to me. I spend most of my time reading, practicing Shape Blood as I do. Just a small amount, of course—nothing large enough to give me away.
I’m almost suspicious of how easy it’s been by the time the sun is fully down and Alder escorts me once again to the train station, dim electric lights illuminating the town around us.
The inside of the station reminds me of the complex. It’s sterile, steel and glass and organized neatly, though there isn’t really much other than a platform next to the rails, lighting, and several benches. A few others are waiting on the platform already. None of them greet me when I arrive.
Alder waits with me in silence until the train finally arrives. I hear it before I see it, the sound of grinding gears and hissing steam traveling far through the quiet night. The train is longer than the platform, I see, though not every car on it seems like it carries passengers. It comes to a stop in front of the platform, and I count eight separate doors open on four distinct cars, each of them at least fifty feet long.
A couple people step out, brushing off cloaks and weapons as they do. They leave without much comment.
“Here you are, Evelyn,” Alder says, pressing two metallic coins into my one functioning hand. “I do wish the best for you. I hope we may be so fortunate to meet again.”
“Thank you,” I say, surprised to find I truly mean it. For the first time, I’ve met someone that has helped me of their own accord. It’s a pleasant feeling.
If it comes down to it, I might not even kill him.
I step onto the train.
“Ticket or two silvers,” a man says gruffly. He stands next to the door, holding a long firearm in one hand. His uniform is white and blue, nothing at all like the wall guards’.
I hand him the two silvers and he lets me pass with no further comment.
I make my way to a seat as fast as I can, intent on blending in as fast as I can, and I look out one of many, many windows to see the platform.
Alder is speaking to someone in a similar white-and-blue uniform. A man that didn’t come from the train, it looks like. I squint, the sensation of faint recognition tickling at the back of my mind.
And then it clicks as Alder points to the train. As the uniformed man scans the platform, then the windows of the train, not quite making eye contact with me. It’s enough that I can see his face clearly.
Still wearing the fare-collector uniform, Jarreth steps onto the train.
Objective: Remain free [COMPLETE]
Time’s up.
200 XP rewarded!
Trait earned: Free Bird
You have advanced to level 4!
“Lie down,” the medic instructs. “You don’t know how hurt you are.”
I follow his instructions, still flicking my eyes around as they lower me to a bed, removing my pack for me and placing it on the floor. The inside of the building that they all came out of is more inviting than any room I’ve been in so far, though that’s not a very high bar given the fact that I’ve only just come out of the complex. The medics took me through a place that evocated the word tavern, through sparsely-populated tables and boards with dozens of papers nailed to them.
There were more eyes on me than I’m really comfortable with, but oh well. I can always just change up my face if someone from the wall comes around and asks after me.
Now, though, I’m in a back room. They princess-carried me here, and now I rest on a hard wooden platform with a soft blanket under me. It absorbs the blood that still wicks off the parts of my cut-up shirt that I allowed to remain there.
“You’re going to be okay,” the same medic says. I blink up at him, taking in his half-masked face, and I try using Appraise.
Name: Alder Vessen
Age: 25
Race: Human
Class: Medic
Level: 8
Last Used Skill: Triage
Not a combat-oriented class. I think I could kill him if I needed, but I caught a few glances of armored individuals on my way in. There were two that I was successfully able to Appraise, both of which were level 12. Two others had Appraise fail on them, so I’m assuming it’s higher.
Speaking of which, it’s looking like nobody else here really has Appraise. As far as I can tell, my stat sheet still has my race down as ???, my age down as 0, and my class as Bloodspawn, which definitely isn’t what the others around me would be expecting.
Is Appraise rare? I have it, but nobody’s used any skill like that to find out what I am.
Appraise (Legendary)
Tier: Bronze
Level: 2
Huh. So it is.
That’s good to know.
I feel a rough, callused hand brush against my forehead, and I tense. It takes everything I have
“She’s not that hurt,” Alder says. He gestures to the other three. “I can handle this.”
“Back to your posts,” one of the other medics—a woman, this one—says.
The other three disperse, exiting the room.
I’m tempted to tear into Alder for his XP, but that’s stupid. There’s powerful people in this lobby, and killing someone here is certain to bring them onto me.
Plus, he does seem to be nice.
Alder frowns as his fingers play over my mind. He’s clearly still using his skill, and I think of its name. Triage is a medical term, and it means something along the lines of “preliminary medical assessment.” I guess he’s analyzing my wounds? I wonder what he’ll see.
I think back through the list of injuries I’ve gathered.
“Recently severed hand, deep gut puncture, twenty-seven minor lacerations, four major lacerations,” he mutters, taking a step back from me. I don’t think I’m supposed to be able to hear him, but my ears are sharp. Louder, he says, “What did you say your name was, miss?”
“Evelyn,” I say, intentionally adding vocal fry to my voice, making myself sound more pained.
“Last name?” he asks. At my look he says, “It’s just for procedure. You don’t have to share it if you don’t want to.”
Not sharing a last name will make me suspicious, won’t it? Acting tells me that it’s much better to be the strange woman who stumbled out of the woods than the strange woman who refuses to give up her identities.
Think, think, think… mentally, I flick back through the images of the researchers I saw. I think of the woman whose appearance I’ve stolen.
No. Not Jade. With Temporary Shape Self still active, I don’t look like her, and we’re close enough to the wall that it’s possible Alder actually personally knew her.
I like the idea of the name being a precious gem, though, so I cycle through gem names in my head until I find one that sounds right.
“Carnelian,” I tell him. Sensing an opportunity to solidify my act more, I add a little quaver as I repeat myself, “E-Evelyn Carnelian.”
“Evelyn… Carnelian,” he says, nodding as he writes my name down on a paper. “So, Evelyn, are you at liberty to share how exactly you survived enough damage to kill three people?”
That sets me on edge immediately, though obviously I don’t show it. Alder’s probing for information, but I can’t tell if it’s just because he’s curious or because he knows something.
Acting comes to help me once more.
“Same way most do,” I grunt, exaggerating how much any movement pains me. “Skills, yeah?”
“I’m sorry,” Alder says immediately, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
I glance at him, hiding my suspicion, but I can’t detect any deception. That’s not to say there is none, but still.
“Here,” he says finally. “I’ll get you a health potion. With that and a day of solid rest, your remaining wounds will be righted.”
“Thank you,” I reply, unsure of what else to say. Lying prone makes me feel weak, makes this conversation even harder to manage when the standing Medic practically towers over me. I close my eyes, reminding myself that I do have options.
If he acts upon me, I’ll Bloodstep behind him and attack him, going straight for the neck or somewhere else vital, and then use Shape Blood to cut his vision off and prevent a mess on the floor as I kill him. I picture the steps I would take, adjusting for defensive skills. The image of cleanly murdering him is realistic enough that it’s almost calming.
“I’ll be right back,” Alder says. I crack open my eyes enough to see him walking away with purpose, leaving the door to this room ajar behind him.
Dealing with people is tiring. If I had realized how much effort this would take, I would’ve just hid out in the forest and waited for my objective to tick down.
Objective: Remain free
Satisfy this quest by not being captured by any means when the timer expires.
Time remaining: 7:47:43
I sigh. No, coming here was the best choice.
There were a lot of risks in coming to this town, of course, many issues I got lucky on. For one, if anybody recognized the uniform I’m in, there would probably be suspicion of some kind. It’s not an unreasonable concern, since we’re only a few miles from the wall. I tried to minimize that possibility by drawing more attention to the blood and mud stains all over it as well as tearing parts of it to shreds, and it’s worked so far, but it was still a risk. There’s also the risk that one of them deeply questioned why a girl like me was even in the woods in the first place, but Acting has successfully pulled me through that.
The risks of staying in the forest were worse. The objective is still going, and I’m a lot more confident in fooling these new humans than I am in continuing to evade the wall guards. Once they figure out I’ve killed one of them, they’re definitely not going to stop looking through the woods.
I just need to stay free for another twelve or so hours and I’ll gain the reward, whatever it is. That should be doable.
The door swings fully open again, and Alder walks back in, holding a spherical glass bottle with bright-red fluid in it in one hand and a stack of clothes in the other. He walks over to me and places the bottle that has to be the stamina potion onto a nightstand to the left of me.
“Drink this when you’re well enough to move,” he says, placing his hand on my forehead again. After he’s satisfied that I’m not about to die or whatever, he places the clothes on the same nightstand. “Here’s a change of clothes. I’m sure you’re tired. Rest well.”
He pats me on the head once and leaves, closing the door this time. Finally, I take a good look at the place I’m in.
The room isn’t very large. Apart from the makeshift bed I’m on, there’s just the nightstand to my left, a wooden wall to my right, and a few small closets with glass doors on the opposite wall ten feet away, each of them stocked with what looks like medical supplies. A single wooden stool is the only other furnishing. It’s not run-down, not exactly, but it feels like a small room at an inn that was converted to be something
Where are my exits? There’s a window behind me—I can see the sun coming in through it. There’s a door as well. I can Bloodstep through either of those the moment someone hostile to me comes in.
My injuries are healing fast, but Demonic Heritage can only do so much. I sit up enough to grab the potion, uncork it with my teeth, and I down it. The potion is surprisingly fruity and sweet.
It burns as it goes down, and the aftertaste turns to ash on my tongue. As it does, a sense of warmth starts in my chest and radiates out through the rest of my body, filling me from my head to my toes.
My wounds start to close just a bit faster, the health potion acting in tandem with Demonic Heritage.
I’m still internally wounded, so I don’t want to move too fast, but I’m a lot less injured than I made them think, so I swing myself off the makeshift bed and change, practically tearing the bloodstained uniform off in exchange for the simple clothes Alder left for me. A thin forest-green shift and a light coat are just enough to avoid indecency, insofar as I understand the concept. I stash the ragged uniform in my pack in case I need it later.
Afterwards, I wait. Now that I’m no longer bloody, in human hands, and am no longer wearing the very conspicuous guard.
While I lie there, I think. What do I do now?
Obviously, I need to leave this area. Even if the whole Underground Site thing is supposed to be secret, which is looking increasingly plausible, there’s a non-zero chance that officers from the wall come to this town asking after me. Until I level up, I don’t think there’s a way for me to hide my missing hand.
After roughly four hours have passed, I put my plan into motion. I don’t have to fake the reinvigorated energy coursing through me when I stand and walk to the door. It’s unlocked, thankfully, so I don’t need to make a hasty escape.
By my best estimate, it’s a little past noon now. The building is bustling with activity compared to the morning, though that’s not saying much. My door doesn’t lead straight to the main hall where the bulk of the activity is, but I can hear a dozen voices overlapping each other from the room that was nearly silent earlier.
I find myself in a narrow hallway, doors on either side marked with Common text indicating their purposes—restrooms, a kitchen, and a couple of offices.
As I start making my way towards the main hall, one of the office doors swing open. Alder steps out. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me, which makes me think there’s some magic applied to the door I came out of, but he does take a moment to look at me.
“You recovered fast,” he finally says after a few moments spent awkwardly staring.
“I did,” I say. “Where am I?”
He frowns. “You don’t know the name of the town?”
This is the make-or-break moment. If Acting doesn’t pull through here, I’m in hot water.
“I… my memory isn’t very good,” I say, holding myself with my arms. I gaze at the ground, injecting nervousness into my voice. “I hit my head really hard a… a while ago.”
I look up just in time to see his expression soften. “I’m sorry to hear that. This town isn’t large enough to warrant a proper name. It’s Outpost 17. An adventuring town.”
He says the word adventuring with enough vitriol that it actually surprises me.
“Apologies,” he says, seeing my reaction. “I shouldn’t be so rude in front of a fresh recovery.”
“Outpost 17,” I repeat. That seems to line up with what the map said. This is no true town, just a hub of some kind. I wasn’t expecting it to hold adventurers, but it’s less surprising given the armored men and women in the lobby. “Okay. I… I want to get to the city. My—my memories are broken up, but I know… this isn’t the place I’m meant to be.”
Acting advanced to level 8!
You are now 225% more likely to remain undetected when impersonating another individual.
Alder nods. “There’s a train that arrives once a day just around midnight. It travels through many other Outposts, but it also leads to big cities. Ravendale, Arcwater, and the like.”
At my blank stare, he elaborates, “The closest large city is Ravendale. I think you’d like it there.”
Not that you know me at all, prick.
I’d be more annoyed at him if he hadn’t literally given me the clothes on my back.
“Can you show me?” I ask him. “The train.”
“I can,” he says. “I’m off duty in fifteen minutes. I’ll take you then?”
I nod, and he returns to his office.
Fifteen minutes later, he exits again to find me still standing there, this time with my pack on my back.
“Come,” he says, gesturing for me to follow. I do.
As we exit, I see how many people are in the lobby now. It’s not a huge building, but it’s sizable, fifty feet by fifty feet with rows of tables, each of them mostly full of people wearing varying kinds of armor and carrying a few different weapons. I see swords, axes, glaives, spears, and the odd pistol here and there. None of them seem to have anything like the R-Class firearm in my pack.
I feel a few stares on me as I walk behind Alder, and I don’t let my wariness show. I highly doubt they know what I am. Much higher odds that they’re just looking because I’m a new face wearing an attractive woman’s body. Acting tells me to acknowledge a few of them with nods, and I do. They turn away soon after.
Alder takes me through the town, which doesn’t really have anything of note other than the building we were just in. The streets are near-empty, while the buildings are run-down and mostly shuttered apart from a few eateries and a single general store. Most of the people in this town must’ve concentrated themselves in that building.
The Medic answers my unasked question. “Outposts almost always look like this. Most of the work to be done here is by killing for money and supporting those who kill for money. I happen to fall in the latter.”
He doesn’t seem to like the adventurers very much. I don’t have enough experience with them to tell if his dislike is misguided or not.
We don’t speak much more as he leads me to the only other new-looking building in town, a simple steel structure maybe two hundred feet long next to a straight set of rails that cuts directly perpendicular to the strip of land that Outpost 17 is built on. Beyond the railroad is untamed wilderness.
“It costs two silver to get on the train,” Alder says. He glances at me, smiling wryly. “Something tells me you might not have that.”
I shake my head. I don’t even know how much a silver is worth. Is two silvers a little? A lot? The knowledge I’m loaded with doesn’t tell me that.
“I can spot you,” Alder says. “You don’t deserve to be stuck here with the rest of us.”
I look at him quizzically, but he just looks back with a lopsided half-grin.
“Thank you,” I say. “I truly do appreciate it.”
“It’s not a problem,” he says. “Would you like to return to the hub for the time being?”
I’m smart enough to deduce what “hub” is from context, but the persona I’m putting on isn’t. “The hub?”
“Oh, the building we had you in,” he says. “You can wait for the train there. It’s warmer than it is out here.”
I’ve barely noticed the chill. Still, it would be a little suspicious to just stand outside for another seven hours, so I return with him.
The time passes surprisingly quickly. I don’t speak with many people, and Alder doesn’t make me, apparently assuming whatever brain damage I’ve got going on is enough to keep me from socializing, but the hub has books that he offers to me. I spend most of my time reading, practicing Shape Blood as I do. Just a small amount, of course—nothing large enough to give me away.
I’m almost suspicious of how easy it’s been by the time the sun is fully down and Alder escorts me once again to the train station, dim electric lights illuminating the town around us.
The inside of the station reminds me of the complex. It’s sterile, steel and glass and organized neatly, though there isn’t really much other than a platform next to the rails, lighting, and several benches. A few others are waiting on the platform already. None of them greet me when I arrive.
Alder waits with me in silence until the train finally arrives. I hear it before I see it, the sound of grinding gears and hissing steam traveling far through the quiet night. The train is longer than the platform, I see, though not every car on it seems like it carries passengers. It comes to a stop in front of the platform, and I count eight separate doors open on four distinct cars, each of them at least fifty feet long.
A couple people step out, brushing off cloaks and weapons as they do. They leave without much comment.
“Here you are, Evelyn,” Alder says, pressing two metallic coins into my one functioning hand. “I do wish the best for you. I hope we may be so fortunate to meet again.”
“Thank you,” I say, surprised to find I truly mean it. For the first time, I’ve met someone that has helped me of their own accord. It’s a pleasant feeling.
If it comes down to it, I might not even kill him.
I step onto the train.
“Ticket or two silvers,” a man says gruffly. He stands next to the door, holding a long firearm in one hand. His uniform is white and blue, nothing at all like the wall guards’.
I hand him the two silvers and he lets me pass with no further comment.
I make my way to a seat as fast as I can, intent on blending in as fast as I can, and I look out one of many, many windows to see the platform.
Alder is speaking to someone in a similar white-and-blue uniform. A man that didn’t come from the train, it looks like. I squint, the sensation of faint recognition tickling at the back of my mind.
And then it clicks as Alder points to the train. As the uniformed man scans the platform, then the windows of the train, not quite making eye contact with me. It’s enough that I can see his face clearly.
Still wearing the fare-collector uniform, Jarreth steps onto the train.
Objective: Remain free [COMPLETE]
Time’s up.
200 XP rewarded!
Trait earned: Free Bird
You have advanced to level 4!
