The exterior gates in the city wall were also flung wide open, but the two guards stationed there were at least a little more professional in appearance. They looked attentive; their blue-gold-and-white uniforms weren’t rumpled; and they had weapons at the ready. The guard on our right had a sword-and-shield combo, a bit worn but still serviceable, and the other guard had a long spear and a bandolier of throwing knives. There were also three cocked crossbows resting against the wall, though none of the three were loaded.

“Ah, look, Gren, some kids who want to grow up to be heroes,” said the spearman.

Jazmyn and I both frowned. By the way her glowing eyes narrowed, Ette probably did too, though she didn’t have a mouth to convey that expression. We were high school students, not kids, and even teens younger than us -- like Jocelyn -- were considered adults for purposes of DVI. What cause did this guard, who probably hadn’t even existed moments ago, to belittle us?

This time it was Mikachu who interceded. “Nah,” she said, “Heroes are too much work. We’re just here to have fun.”

“The playgrounds are back that way,” the spearman said, pointing back through the wall to the city. “Out here, there’s little monsters who will make the ones under your bed look like overgrown puppy dogs. Best go back to your dollies and swing sets.”

Before any of us could say anything, the second guard whacked him across the back of the head with her shield. “Leave it be, Virgil, and drop the attitude. You’re representing the guard and your family out here, and don’t forget it.”

Then she turned to face us. “Pay that fool no heed. He’s just grumpy because he’s lazy and is afraid he might actually have to work today. We’re here to help new adventurers like yourself, but mind now, we’re not going to come running to your aid if you get in a spot of trouble or bite off more than you can chew.

“You see those posts out there,” she continued, gesturing toward a series of fenceposts with no fence between them. They formed a semi-circle, or close enough, about a dozen yards in radius from the gate. “That’s our boundary. If you need help, you come running toward us. We’ll aggro any little monster that chases you past it, but mind now, you won’t get any credit for fighting it if Virgil or I finish it off.”

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“And we ain’t stepping one foot past that boundary, neither,” Virgil said. “Not even if you trip and fall and a little monster starts nibbling on your toes just the other side.” He rubbed the back of his head where the shield had hit him, and grimaced. Spitting on the ground, he continued. “You gotta learn somehow that the world’s a dangerous place, and once you start venturing off into the wilds where you can’t even see the city, you’re on your own. Best learn the hard way early on.”

Gren looked apologetic. “A bit blunt, but those are the rules. We’re not allowed to engage little monsters outside our range. Elsewise, the less lazy amongst us might be tempted to go out and clear the whole area, leaving nothing for you to prove yourself with.”

“And if we’re not here, guarding this gate, then who knows what little monsters would try to sneak into the city,” Virgil glared back at the gate and spat again. “And who knows what havoc that would wreak, since the inner patrol aren’t especially vigilant.”

I thought back to the sandwich-creating guard and his snoozing buddy and had to agree with at least that part of Virgil’s assessment.

“What sort of little monsters are we likely to encounter out there?” Noa asked.

“Big rats, mostly,” Gren said. “And a few other rodents of less-than-usual size. The usual-sized ones aren’t monsters, and won’t give you any benefit if you try to fight them. The bigger ones, though. Well, they should be an appropriate challenge for your group. Be careful, though, they might screech and call for back-up. Any one of you -- except maybe the tiny, winged one -- can probably deal with a big rat one-on-one, but I’d hate to be in your shoes if three or four ganged up on you at once.”

“Because the little monsters would be nibbling on your toes and that means your shoes would be done for, too,” Virgil put in.

“I wouldn’t put it quite that way, but pretty much. Good luck out there, ladies, and remember to come running back if you need to.”

“And watch out for the flappy rats. They’re tougher than they look. There’s a reason we keep crossbows ready,” Virgil said.

“Flappy rats? Do you mean bats?” Jazmyn asked.

“No. I do not mean bats.” Virgil sneered. “I’m talking about little monsters, not about animals. I mean flappy rats. You’ll see for yourself if you’re not careful.”