The next few days saw Riley travelling the snowswept roads with very little in the way of rest or respite. He walked from sunrise for as far as his legs would carry him, stopping only whenever a monster or wild animal or shambling corpse sought to attack him. He had yet to encounter anything more dangerous than the creatures stalking the halls of Fort Bane, fortunately.

While this was safer, the downside was that he had very little in the way of extra Essence to work with. Not enough to get any more of his stats boosted for the time being.

A question hung vivid in his mind throughout his trek, and he occasionally asked himself why he was even doing this. Why even keep going? He had little plan or direction beyond venturing to a warmer climate and from there... from there he’s have to kill monsters? Keep killing them unto eternity, in some bizarre cosmic war?

Part of him wanted to flop down in the snow and just spend is eternity rotting. It sounded preferable to being murdered over and over again. But, ultimately, he couldn’t bring himself to. People were in danger, from the sound of things, and he knew he had to do whatever he could to mitigate that.

Riley thought back to what his father had said, when he was barely older than a toddler.

Our family has been involved with medicine since the pioneer days, son. It’s a job that always needs doing, he had said. The world needs healers. It’s always gonna have people that require help, people suffering and ailing. And I hope you’re willing to help those people when the need comes.

The need had certainly come. Kerberos and its people needed someone to stick up for it, and it seemed he’d drawn the short straw. He’d do whatever he could for them as a fighter, but if the chance to play healer cropped up he’d gladly take it. So, whenever doubt crept up in his mind, he thought of his father’s words. This was just another job that needed doing.

Those thoughts cropped up whenever he doubted himself, pushing him to keep going.

Come sundown, when the world grew even colder and even more imposing, Riley made camp with his two cohorts. Arubis, kindly as ever, made a point of storing kindling in whatever nebulous storage space she made use of, so there was always enough to light a fire for grilling some game. The food in his inventory, fortunately, did not seem to run the risk of spoiling.

That didn’t mean it tasted good. But, then again, Riley had never cooked anything more complex than instant noodles. Grilling blackened steak over a campfire in the middle of nowhere was outside his area of expertise.

Anything beat starving, he told himself.

That small town he’d seen from on high grew closer and closer, looming larger, and it seemed increasingly that it wasn’t a dilapidated ruin like Fort Bane. When Riley got a closer vantage point one afternoon he could see people, little moving dots from afar, going about their business while horses and carriages came and went from the gates.

He couldn’t imagine the zombies of Fort Bane putting on a show like that.

“Not all of Kerberos has fallen to ruin,” Arubis had said one day. “But plague, war, and strife have decimated swathes of this land, scouring kingdoms and empires. You are fortunate whenever you come across an enclave of civilization. And such places are usually keen to aid Wardens. Only...”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Riley had given her a curious glance, his head tilted. “Only?”

“Only your guise as a plague wizard... that may make things difficult. Aqar’Ghul is not an agent of the Malformed Chaos, but she is still not loved by the commonfolk for the nature of her power.”

“Wonderful...”

That conversation had loomed in Riley’s mind as he made his final approach to the town. It was high noon, but the sun was struggling to peek through a rolling blanket of clouds. The walls to the town were far larger up close, and he could occasionally see men adorned in furry cloaks patrolling atop them.

With each step he became increasingly aware of his own attire, the robes of some profaned goddess. But it wasn’t as if he had other options. The corpses he found in the wilds were adorned in nothing but rotten filth-stained rags, which weren’t ideal for any weather. Even removing the mask would do little to hide the apparently blasphemous symbols on his robe. He could only hope that Arubis could vouch for him.

Mesquard emerged from his pocket as he made his approach to the gates. Goodness. So many sounds and smells from this place. The bounty of food must be rich!

“I suppose for you, yes,” But Riley intended on being more discerning when it came to his meals.

Two guards were posted by the rear gates of the town, and perked up as Riley’s entourage approached. They parted their fur cloaks, revealing dark orange tabbards above their chainmail. Different to the darker colours adorned by Klaus and his men.

“Hold, Crow!” one of the men barked, shaking snowflakes from his beard. “What business have you at Myron’s Pike?”

Riley awkwardly touched the beak of his mask. “Oh. Crow,” he mumbled in realisation. “I... am a Warden. I’m here for uh... supplies and such.”

The two guards exchanged an uncertain glance. They dropped into what they presumed was a muffled conversation, but Riley could hear them rather plainly.

“A Warden? Wearin’ robes like those?”

“Well Wardens tend to be queer sorts, don’t they? My nan, she told me she once met a Warden who called ‘imself a mad bomber, went around with all these explosives on his belt.”

“Your nan was a loony.”

“My nan was a saint you grubby bastard!”

Arubis cleared her throat, drawing their eyes. “I know it seems strange, noble sirs, but it is true. This man is a Warden, and I am his Oracle.”

The guards leaned forward on their spears for a better look. “She’s got them snake eyes, just like in the stories.”

“Yeah. Can’t fake that. Suppose he’s genuine, then.”

They exchanged an uncertain glance, before the bearded guard returned his gaze to Riley. “You can go on through. But cause any trouble, and you’ll regret it. And don’t go spreading no disease! We got enough of that as is.”

Riley walked past the two, mindful of their glares all the while. He breathed a sigh of relief as he passed through the gates. Some measure of safety, at last. Mesquard poked his head from Riley’s pocket again, looking distinctly disgruntled.

The nerve of those knaves! As if they had any right to judge you, esteemed emissary!

“Don’t worry about it, Mesquard,” Riley replied. He could endure uneasy glares as long as he could spend the night under an actual roof.

And the uneasy glares were in abundance as he walked past rows of ramshackle wooden buildings. Pockmarked peasants watched Riley from every alley and doorway, their expressions grim and sullen. It was a stark contrast to living in a big city, Riley noted, where people generally strove to avoid looking at each other as much as humanly possible.

Occasionally, as he went along, he could hear words of muttered conversation drifting his way, few of which could be repeated politely. The people of Myron’s Pike didn’t seem to have any kind words for a man dressed as Riley was.

He passed several streets, rounded a corner, and kept moving until the rear gate had vanished entirely from sight. Riley turned and glanced toward the distant mountains, checking to see if there was any trace of Fort Bane on the horizon. Wherever it was up there, it was lost behind a haze of thick snowy mist. How far had he walked?

He pressed on, ignoring the uneasy stares of the citizens, until he reached an expansive area that seemed to be a town square. The structures in the area had been built to give a wide berth to a stone statue that loomed several heads taller than Riley.

It depicted a woman in a flowing, hooded robe. Two pairs of wings sprouted from her shoulder blades and the small of her back. For as angelic as the woman looked, her wings were leathery like those of a dragon. A Lodestone glowed at her feet, her hands spread out as if she were gesturing toward it.

Riley walked toward the stone and let his right hand rest upon it. The stone resonated at his touch, radiating a warm glow.

“Finally,” Riley huffed “A place to catch my breath.”