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Read this file after completing "Plateau of Decay"

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At long last, his desert trek had ended. He had successfully navigated the treacherous canyon and wasteland and even braved the perils of Death Cavern, becoming the first person in the history of the land to leave with his life. 
Not bad for an outsider! He congratulated himself.

Now, before him stood the gates of the city of Arcanius. Just as well though, his waterskin was almost empty. He would refill it at a fountain in the city walls in preparation for the second desert journey to the harbor once his duty in Arcanius was done. Compared to the trip he had just completed, his second journey would be very short.

Now, all he had to do was enter the city. But the gates were closed. Perhaps this entrance had never been opened once closed since no one ever anticipated someone to come this way.

Halt! Who goes there! a voice commanded. A guard in one of the lookout towers had spotted him and was now holding a crossbow out the window, aimed right at him.
Logan hoped he wouldnt be mistaken for an intruder and that the guard would recognize him. He had journeyed far, he had no intention of turning back now.

The guard pulled his weapon back into the tower. Oh it is you Logan, he said. We were expecting you. One moment and Ill open the gate for you.

The guards head disappeared back into the tower. Logan stood impatiently waiting for the gate to open, eager to finally leave the desert and enter the sanctuary before him. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the gates slid open and allowed him to enter.

Inside, he met with the guard from the lookout tower.

I am amazed that you made it this far, he said. We never actually thought anyone could leave that cavern alive.

Logan beamed at his accomplishment. Im not one to brag, he said, but it takes more than that to stop me!

You may not believe it but this is the very first time weve actually opened these gates since we built this city almost two thousand years ago, the guard said. The Scourge have not invaded yet. Likely, the attack will come from the desert towards the sea. But with you here, we may be able to successfully repel them.

Thats why Im here, said Logan. The right man in the wrong place can make the difference.

We expect them to attack very soon. We must stay ever vigilant and alert when the time comes! But for now, I must return to my post. One of my comrades will give you a tour of the city. Later, if it is your wish, you may join my comrades in training. Im certain they will be honored if you do.

Thank you, said Logan. I will consider it.

Of course, Logan doubted that no matter how hard the guards trained, they would be no match for the Scourge and their weapons of superior power and destruction.
					#
Another guard gave Logan a tour of the city, showing him the castle where the Sword of Fire was kept before leading the way to the local inn in downtown Arcanius. Along the way, Logan stopped to refill his waterskin at a fountain. They passed a tunnel leading to another part of the desert and climbed up a series of stairways up to a stone yard overlooking the desert. 

Ahead was a large building built like a mansion with several chimneys with smoke rising into the desert evening sky and dormer windows. A single balcony was built in the center of the building.

From here, you can get a good view of the desert near the local monastery, the guard said. The monks there would welcome any traveler in need, however, I believe that this local inn will better accommodate you.

But I havent got any money, Logan protested.

The guard handed him a small cloth pouch. Looking inside, Logan found several gold and silver coins.

Thank you. I did not expect this generosity.

I consider it an honor to aid the greatest hero this land had ever known, said the guard with a smile. I hope you enjoy your stay in Arcanius.

Your city is very beautiful indeed. Thanks for the tour, youve been most helpful.

I am honored to serve you and this city, said the guard. For now, I must return to training alongside the others to prepare for the inevitable attack. Join us if possible, we would be honored if you could demonstrate your skills.

As the guard took his leave, Logan opened one of the doors and entered the inn. Inside, it looked like any typical inn. The tables were waiting for travelers to sit and eat or drink. A candle chandelier hung from the ceiling. A few framed painted portraits hung from the walls. A fire crackled in the hearth of the fireplace with the stuffed head of a great horned wildebeest above the mantel. A carpet brightly colored orange, yellow, and red decorated the floor. Kegs and barrels of ale and wine lined up the shelves and walls ready for order. A middle-aged man who Logan guessed was the innkeeper sat near the fireplace reading a book.

At a couple of tables, several men sat drinking ales, sharing tales, and laughing. One of them started bragging about a great beast he had hunted and killed out in the desert, but Logan judged that it was the booze talking. Drunk men tended to tell exaggerated stories to make themselves feel more important.

One of the men interrupted the conversation as his eyes and mouth opened in awe. 
Its him! he gasped to his comrades.

Logan found himself at the end a pointed finger. The others at the table turned to follow it and found Logan. Even the innkeeper looked up from his book. His lips slightly parted, allowing his corncob pipe to fall to the floor with a clack. They all stared at him in astonishment. The only sounds now coming through his eardrums were the clatter of dishes in the kitchen. Obviously, the main meal was being prepared for consumption.

He found it awkward being the center of attention so he decided to seat himself at an empty table.

Mr. Logan, wont you join us for a pint? asked one of the men.

No, said Logan politely at he sat down. Id rather sit alone, thank you.
Despite the innkeeper of Tamirtania giving him a free room, Logan doubted he would get free service. He hoped that the money the guard gave him would pay for a meal, a drink, and a room. He emptied the pouch upon the table and counted the coins. Altogether there were fifteen gold coins and twenty silver coins, each stamped with the emblem of the land of Iconoclast. The emblem resembled two swords criss-crossed within a crown and a shield.

Let me buy our savior a drink and a meal, one of the men said. Logan smiled in pride at his generosity as he put the coins back into the pouch.

Wont be necessary Bruno, the innkeeper said picking up his pipe. For our hero, everything is on the house.

Perhaps I was wrong, Logan thought. My reputation does gain me free service! He made a mental note to return the money to the guard as it was no longer needed.
On the house Geoffroy? one of the men exclaimed. Why, because he is a hero? Has everyone already forgotten about the time I bagged a ferocious wildebeest out in the desert that attacked a caravan last week? The one whose head now decorates the wall of the hearth? Why do I still have to pay for service here?

Because you did not save an entire land, that is why Walter! one of the men said slapping his shoulder.

This is quite a nice establishment you have here, Logan told the innkeeper.

It has been in my family for generations, said Geoffroy. Originally, it started off as a large house before my great-grandfather decided to expand and convert it into an inn. People come in here to eat, drink, be merry, and for the best desert lodging you can find anywhere.

Logan stared at the men as they resumed drinking their ale. They drank for fun, reliving good times, and sharing the experience with friends. On the other hand, men like him drank to forget. However, no matter how much he got drunk, the memories would always come back.

He shook his head at Walter. Already he decided that he disliked Walter very much. Walter was a braggart and his words flowed with arrogance and narcissism. He reminded Logan too much of Revelin.

Please wait right there, Geoffroy said. My daughter will bring you a meal and a drink.

Geoffroy loudly clapped his hands twice. After a moment in response, Logan heard the door behind him open.

Our new guest wishes for a meal and a drink, Geoffroy said. For him, its on the house.

Of course father, a womans voice said.

Logan perked his head up. Something about that voice seemed very familiar. Could it be? He asked himself.

The woman stood by Logan waiting to take his order. He turned to face her. She appeared to be an attractive young woman around his age dressed in a pink and black bodice and with ebony hair tied back in a ponytail. Once he saw her her heart-shaped face, he felt his heart skip a beat and his blood run cold with shock.

The woman gave a startled gasp when she locked focus on Logan and recognized him. 
Oh my god! she said clasping a hand to her lips. Mr. Logan! She wasnt the only one who stared in recognition. Logan recognized her immediately. The resemblance to his dead Katrina was remarkable. It was Agnes.

Logan blinked hard to avoid staring. It was not polite to stare at a lady after all.

Agnes regained her composure and smiled again. Supper isnt quite ready yet, she said. Tonight were having stew containing assorted vegetables and the meat of the horned wildebeest.

Killed by yours truly! Walter raised his empty mug with an arrogant grin.
Agnes groaned in exasperation and shot Walter a cold look over her shoulder. Yes, we know that Walter! You dont need to keep bringing it up!

She smiled back at Logan. Let me get you a drink while you wait. Will you have ale, rum, or wine?

Ale please, Logan said.

Coming right up, Anges said. She went behind the counter and poured ale into a brass mug from the spigot of a barrel before bringing it to Logan. Enjoy, she said. Let me know if you want any more.

As she went back to the kitchen, Logan picked up the mug and sipped the ale. Normally, he only drank vodka, so this was something new to get used to. Ale had a bit of an acquired taste to it, he couldnt understand why men would want to drink it.

He set the mug down and allowed the taste to fill his mouth and the liquid to run down his throat. How can people drink this stuff? Could I really be spending my money on something like this back home?

He sat back and listened as Walter resumed telling his story of how he killed the wildebeest. Obviously, Walter was still basking in his delusions of glory. Of course, his fifteen minutes of fame had ended long ago whereas Logans heroics would be remembered for all eternity.

Logan was not the type to brag or boast, unlike some people he knew, and recently met. People like Walter and Revelin. If fame and glory were confections, they would not be satisfied with a slice. They wanted the whole cake.

His mouth gathered up its courage and he picked up his mug once again. As he took his second sip, Agnes came out carrying a wooden bowl of steaming stew. She set it on the table before Logan. A small wooden spoon was already set within the liquid.

Wench! Walter shouted. Come over here with more ale while youre at it!
Agnes snorted. Youll have to wait your turn sir. Im serving a customer!

Im a customer too! shouted Walter. And seeing as how I am a local hero

Oh brother! Logan slapped himself in the forehead. Walter was starting to sound a lot like Revelin.

I share your opinion, said Agnes shaking her head.

Wench, Walter shouted, did you hear me?

Agnes could no longer restrain herself, but still maintained most of her self-control. I hear you! she shouted in anger spinning to face Walter. She pointed a finger into her abdomen, but my name is Agnes!

And bring me some of that stew while youre at it, ordered Walter. Since I provided the meat for it, I shouldnt have to pay!

An angry groan crawled from Agnes throat.

Walter, I think youve had enough to drink, said Bruno placing a hand on Walters shoulder, but angrily Walter brushed it aside.

By now, Logan was not sure which disgusted him more, the taste of the ale or Walters behavior. The delicious stew, containing carrots, potatoes, onions, and meat took the taste of the ale out of his mouth, but it would never get rid of the disgust he felt towards Walter.

What kind of inn is this? Walter complained angrily as he stood and stormed towards Agnes. When I ask for ale, I am supposed to get ale! Now where is it wench?

Whatever sense of self-control Anges had disappeared as she slashed the air in front of Walter with her palm. He caught her by the wrist just as she was about to strike the blow to his face.

You had better get me my ale servant girl before I lose my temper! said Walter.

Unhand my daughter at once Walter! Geoffroy slammed his book down in anger. Or I will personally have you thrown out!

You stay out of this Geoffroy! It is your daughters duty to serve the customer! Now get me my ale!

By now, Logan had about just enough. He angrily set the spoon back in his stew and forced himself up from his seat. He was not going to idly stand by and allow Walter to get away with such outrageous behavior, especially to Katrinas double, just as he would not had allowed the Scourge to execute his love. He may had failed Katrina, but he could still save Anges and defend her honor.

Come on! snarled Walter as Anges struggled to free herself. She slapped at him with her free hand, but he caught that one too. The other men at the table were staring in horror at him. Agnes anger by now had been replaced with fear at what Walter would do. There was nothing more dangerous than a drunk who wanted a drink, and who would do anything to get it. You know what to do! If you do not give me what I paid for, I am going to get mad wench! And you dont want to see me when Im mad!

Let her go you brute! Logan shouted. Or youll regret it!

Walters friends stared at him in astonishment. Geoffroy smiled and Agnes stared in awe at him.

Walter only laughed. Oh you want some of this too Mr. Logan? He swung Agnes away, sending her crashing over a chair. Logan gasped in concern. Fine by me!
Oh my god Walter! Bruno exclaimed in shock.

Logan watched as Geoffroy helped his daughter up to her feet. Enraged he whirled on Walter just in time to see Walters fist flying at his face. 

You shouldnt have done that! You dont ever treat a woman that way! He pulled his head to the side to dodge the blow.

Whats the matter Mr. Logan? asked Walter. Not manly enough to fight back?

Walter, Ive killed entire packs of gargoyles and hellhounds altogether with scores of creatures from beyond the grave and hundreds of Scourge soldiers. Compared to them, an angry drunk and braggart like you will be a mere insect to swat aside! I dont want to hurt you, but if you threaten me, I may have no choice but to retaliate.

He ducked the next punch and delivered a fierce uppercut to Walters chin. The blow, strengthened by his disgust and anger, was powerful enough to send his opponent staggering backwards, crashing into the table, and knocking over his comrades mugs. Leftover ale soiled the back of his shirt and dripped onto the floor. Some of the men began to laugh at this misfortune of Walters.

Take that! Logan yelled triumphantly.

Had he punched any harder, the blow would have forced Walters head high enough to snap his neck and kill him. The last think Logan wanted was to kill a civilian. It would not do his heroic reputation any good. 

Concern flooding his heart, Logan walked over to where Agnes stood. Other than dust on her dress, she appeared to be unharmed. Are you alright? he asked.
Agnes brushed her dress with both hands. Yes. Thank you Logan, she smiled at him. Her smile suddenly fades and her face became a mask of terror. Look out Logan! she cried, pointing behind him.

Everyone gasped as an enraged Walter lunged at Logan with a dagger. Obviously, he was not going to let Logan get away with this bruise to his pride. He would stop at nothing to avenge this humiliation, even if it meant murdering the lands savior. In his drunken stupor, Walter did not seem to care that he could end up going to prison for the rest of his life or to the gallows and left for the vultures.

Geoffroy pulled his daughter away to safety.

Walter no! Bruno shouted. You dont know what youre doing!
Despite knowing that his life was in danger, Logan would not allow himself to pull out a gun to defend himself. He needed to improvise and use something else as a weapon. But what?

What about one of the chairs? It would make a good clubbing weapon. If he struck hard enough with one, he could incapitate his opponent by breaking a few bones.
He grabbed the chair Agnes crashed into earlier. Clutching both legs, he swung it sideways at Walter, all his anger strengthening his arms. A cry of agony erupted from Walters lips as the strike connected with his right shoulder and arm. The blow was powerful enough to break the chair into two pieces. With the piece still in his hands, Logan swung again, hitting Walter in the side with an attack powerful enough to throw him off his feet and send him crashing to the floor. The dagger flew out of his hands and landed in the hearth of the fireplace where it disappeared into the flames.

Logan dropped the broken chair and dusted off his hands. You shouldnt play with knives, he said shaking his head.

Walter was on the floor now, moaning in agony and clutching his shoulder. Logan stared down in disgust at his fallen opponent. He felt no pleasure in what he had done but he was remorseless all the same. He had won the battle and successfully defended Anges honor as a true hero would.

As if sensing the coast was clear and the danger had passed, Agnes came back to the scene and tossed the broken chair into the fireplace for kindling.

Sorry about your friend, Logan apologized to the men at the table.

Dont waste your sympathy, said Bruno. Walter had it coming. You did what you had to do.

No, said Logan. Not yet. There is still one more thing.

He picked up his mug of ale. Disgustedly, he carried it over to where Walter lay. All this violence stemming over one mans desire for a drink. It repulsed him. Shaking his head looking down at Walter, Logan could not help but ask himself, 
Would this have happened to me as it did to him? Of course, Logan could control his drinking.

Now, Logan felt like he could do more than control his drinking. He could stop drinking altogether.

You want some more ale Walter? he asked. Here, you can have the rest of mine. I dont want it anymore. He slowly began to tilt the mug on its side as if to taunt Walters patience.

Damnyou! Walter spat up at him.

Then, Logan stopped. A better idea crossed his mind. One that would be more amusing to him. A smirk crossed his face as a silent taunt towards Walter.

Walter, would you mind explaining to everyone here the difference between punishment and justice?

What? Walter cried out in pain and perplexion.

Never mind, said Logan, his smile spreading into a grin. Let me give you a demonstration!

Smiling, Logan handed the mug to Agnes and nodded to her. She nodded back in understanding. Heres the ale you asked for you pig! With a gleeful grin she deliberately tilted the mug and poured Logans leftover ale all over Walters face. Walter sputtered and choked as his friends laughed at him.

Logan chuckled at her revenge. After he had endured out in the desert, this form of justice made his dreary day a little more exciting. He had just about enough action for one day. Even Walters friends were cheering her on.

Geoffroy forced Walter up to his feet and glared him with utter contempt. Get out of my inn right now! he ordered with a voice that was as cold and unforgiving as ice. And dont ever come back!

With a final glare at Logan, Walter snorted in anger and stomped out the door, dripping ale onto the floor as he went, people still laughing at him behind his back. Logan wondered if like Revelin, he would be plotting revenge at his bruised ego and wounded pride.

He sat back down at his table and pulled out his waterskin. For now, water was the only drink he wanted. He ate his stew and gulped down a drink of water. Agnes offered to refill his bowl with a second helping, which he accepted. He could not help but smile to himself the way Agnes smiled at him whenever she looked at him.
Who says chivalry isnt dead? he asked himself.
					#
After the meal, Logan walked out of the inn to have another look around town before he joined the guards in training for the battle to come. He watched his back carefully, his eyes ever on alert for Walter. Considering what a narcissist he had been, Walters revenge would come quick. But if it came, he would be ready.
He walked down the stairs towards the streets below and passed by several houses and the local church. He passed under the stone arch leading to another part of the city. He gazed in awe at his surroundings as he continued on his way. Arcanius was truly a paradise within the barren desert. Where the land was decayed and mostly lifeless, the city thrived like a strong beating heart.

He returned to the main gates and found the barracks where the guards would be training. He knocked on the door and waited. After several moments, the door opened.

Ah! Mr. Logan! We have been expecting you. 

The guard allowed him to enter and escorted him to a small courtyard where many other guards are in training. Some of them are shooting arrows and crossbows at wooden targets. Others were sparring in friendly duels with their swords and spears, effectively blocking blows with their shields. Despite the fact that they were well-trained soldiers, they would need all the skill they could muster against an army such as the Scourge.

The targets are drawn and painted upon round blocks of wood or bales of moldy hay. Some of the targets are formed from sacks in the shapes of a human dummy. The targets came in three colors. The outer rings are colored brown. The inner rings are white. The center rings are crimson red. The guards tried their hardest to hit the center of the target. However, much of the time, they were hitting the orange or white rings.

Mr. Logan, perhaps you could show us how well your weapons work, the guard said. We are curious about what kind of power they possess.

Curiosity killed the cat, said Logan. When the Scourge attack, youll understand. They fight with weapons like this.

Most strange, said the guard. Where do you load the bolts or arrows?
Despite being amused at their lack of understanding of advanced weaponry, Logan resisted the urge to laugh. These are called guns. Instead of bolts or arrows, they use lead bullets or shells. I will show you how they work and how powerful they are, but I cannot waste much of my ammo since it cannot be recovered, unlike your arrows and bolts.

It was true. The guards could easily remove their arrows and bolts from the target or wherever else they fired. Bullets and shells however were useless after pulling the trigger on a gun. Shotgun shells once emptied of their pellets are tossed away. Lead cases falling out of the Tommy gun were useless, deprived of their bullet heads.

One of the guards set up a target for Logan as the others gathered to watch. Logan had instructed the guard not to use a target made from wood because the bullets would ricochet. 

He pulled out his Tommy gun and aimed carefully before pulling the trigger. He held down his finger for a couple of seconds before releasing the trigger. One of the guards inspected the target and briefly before announcing a report to his comrades.

In the time it would take us to recover our arrows and reload our weapons, Mr. Logan has already managed to strike the red circle and the innermost white ring several times.

His comrades gasped in awe.

His attacks struck the target almost immediately. This could spell trouble for us in the heat of battle should we find ourselves on the other end of the Scourges weapons.

Logan next pulled out his shotgun. I may need to get closer to the target for this, he said. This weapon is more effective at closer range than my other gun.
He reduced the distance he had used with his Tommy gun by a quarter and pulled the trigger to unleash both barrels at the target. Once more, the guard inspected the target before reporting to the others.

This attack has spread out. There are a few hits to the center of the target and the inner white ring. Most of the hits are in the brown rings.

Logan reloaded his shotgun and this time halved the distance between himself and the target. He would only fire once more and then call it a night. He would need to conserve his ammo for when the Scourge attacked. He pulled the trigger and unleashed two shells worth of buckshot at the target.

The guard once again made his report. There are more hits to the center rings of the target and less within the brown rings. This weapon appears to have a spread pattern in its attacks. If possible, we may need to fight from a distance against this weapon to reduce the causalities.

Logan had other weapons as well, including the red-sticks with a fuse. However, he feared that the explosions would induce panic within the townspeople, believing that the attack had come much sooner, so he decided against using one to demonstrate its power.

Mr. Logan, could you teach us how to use these weapons? one of the guards asked.

Im not sure if that is possible, said Logan. I only have one of each. Using and reloading them is also more complicated than your own weapons.

The guard shook his head. Youre right. On second thought, we will leave well enough alone and stick with what we know. Thank you for your time Mr. Logan and may the information youve given us about these weapons assist us when the time comes! From what weve learned, fighting from a distance is the best and safest way to deal with the Scourge.
					#
Later, Logan sat upon the bed of his room at the inn, checking his supply of ammo. He slid his bundles of dynamite underneath the bed. He opened the barrel of his shotgun and slid two shells down the barrels. He loaded a full drum of bullets into his Tommy Gun. He had to be prepared for the battle to come immediately.
Upon returning to the inn, he received a key to the room where he would be staying for the night. The finest room fit for a hero! Geoffroy proudly told him when he handed over the key.

The room it turned out was the only one with access to the balcony. He suspected that there was something special about this room to have a view from the balcony. Outside, he could see the moon in the sky surrounded by numerous clouds illuminated by its light. Other than a lit candle upon a small round table near the bed, the moonlight was the only light that held by total darkness in the room. Hanging on one wall was a small painting of a beautiful woman with midnight hair. Logan wondered who she was, but the answer came to him when he laid his eyes upon another small painting of the woman with Geoffroy and a young girl as they posed for the artist for a family portrait. Both paintings were small enough to slip into a pocket of his trench coat if they were of any value and if he was a thief, which he wasnt.

By now the inns doors were locked for the night. Anyone wishing to enter had to knock and wait for the innkeeper to open the door. This was done to prevent anyone from breaking in and robbing the place.

He took a drink from his waterskin, making a mental note to fill it up in the morning. As he was putting the lid back on there was a knock on the door.
Its probably just a maid, he muttered to himself as he stood before the door and opened it. Outside, Agnes smiling face greeted him.

Hello Mr. Logan, she said. I trust you are finding your accommodations satisfactory?

Her appearance now was unexpected but welcome to him. It is more than enough, he replied. I would have been satisfied with any other room. 

Perhaps, said Agnes, but giving you our finest room is fathers way of showing his respect for a great hero like yourself.

Despite feeling pride growing within himself at the mention of the word hero, Logan knew better than to let it get to his head. Those who let glory get to their head eventually lost all touch with reality, believing themselves to be above to everyone around them. People like the Scourge, especially Revelin. In the end, relentlessly pursing glory would ultimately lead to their own downfall.

Curiosity stirred within him. If I may ask, what brings you here? May I inquire to the purpose of your visit?

Do you mind if I come in for a few minutes, asked Agnes.

I can make my own bed and fluff my own pillows, said Logan. Thanks anyway. He wanted to get some sleep so he would be ready for the attack should it come in the morning.

Its not that, said Agnes. But there is something very important that I want to do. May I come in?

Logan stood aside from the door. Not at all. If I may ask, what for?

Well, Agnes began as she stepped in. can we talk?

Oh, Logan said as he closed the door behind her, puzzled. About what?

Agnes stepped further into the room. Logan, once again, I just wanted to thank you for what youve done earlier. You didnt have to do what you did but you are a true gentleman to have done so.

Actually, I did have to do it. Logan wanted to tell her. I couldnt just stand by and allow it to happen to a woman who looks almost exactly like the woman I cared for and loved above any others. Instead, he said, Someone had to do the right thing.

Realizing that his weapons were still on the bed, Logan carefully placed them under the bed but not before he stripped them of the ammo he had loaded earlier. The last thing he wanted was for Agnes to accidentally fire one and hurt herself. As he began to slide his Tommy Gun under the bed, his eyes caught Anges watching him in curiosity. Youve never seen weapons like these before? he asked.

Not in all my life, said Agnes. She tilted her head. What are they?

Guns, Logan replied. Consider them modern day versions of your peoples bows and crossbows where I come from. More powerful and destructive, their lead sprays are faster and much harder to avoid than arrows and bolts. The Scourge are highly trained in their usage.

As he finished putting away the last stick of dynamite, he heard the doors to the balcony open behind him. He raised his head and turned to see Agnes stepped out onto the balcony.

Anges? Logan queried in concern. What is she doing?

Whats wrong? he asked her coming to her side, stepping out into the moonlight. He saw her looking out over the city streets, rubbing her arms with the opposite hands, oblivious to his presence.

Days out in the desert are very warm. But at night, when the sun went down, so did the temperature. Compared to the heat during the day, being out in the desert at night was like being caught in a weak winter storm. What a difference the absence of the sun made!

Anges stood in silence for several moments before speaking. I just thought I would get one last night out on this balcony, enjoy a final view of the city and the surrounding desert and the night skyin case I She struggles to get the words out.

Logan knew what she was afraid of what was to come. 

My father is very worried as well, said Agnes. Hes afraid that this inn started long ago by his great-grandfather will be destroyed when the Scourge attack. I am worried as well Mr. Logan. Very worried indeed!

This inn must be very important to you if youre that worried.

Its more than just where I work, said Agnes. Its also where we lived. I was actually born in this very room where you are staying tonight.

Logan found himself beginning to understand why she wanted to come here. If the inn were to be destroyed or if she were to die, this would be the last chance she would get to enjoy the moment.

Ive never really had a chance to socialize much and make friends, said Agnes. 
Ive been working here since I was fifteen years old, when my mother died. You must have probably seen paintings of her and our family portrait in your room by now.

I have. Logan nodded

Im twenty-four years old now. By then, most other girls have been married for several years. Most girls are raised just to find a husband and raise a family. But I

She struggled to get the words out. Logan sensed that something was troubling her soul. People with something troubling on their minds often had a difficult time speaking clearly and had difficulty concentrating on their surroundings.

I want so much more out of life than to just marry and raise a family someday.
I knew someone just like that, Logan wanted to tell her. His thoughts filled themselves with images of Katrina the evening she defied Garibaldi at the cathedral.

Twenty-four. Thats the same age as myself and Katrina. I was older than her by just three months. Ill be twenty-five next February. We would have been married by now.

Katrina had been born into an aristocratic family where everything was given to her, nothing was earned. Her older sister had surrendered herself to an arranged marriage with a male socialite. Although Katrina had several admirers and was courted by several young men at the parties her parents threw, she didnt want to just settle down with anybody and have a family. Like so many other women who joined the Scourge, Katrina had simply wanted to forge her own destiny, make her own choices, and mold herself into something much more than what life had originally planned for her. And he admired and loved her for it. Garibaldi had told her that she could help make a difference in the world when he enlisted her. And she had believed him. But once she found out what difference she could make serving the Scourge, she chose another path. And even in death, she did make a difference. Humanity owed so much to her, they just didnt realize it.

I often wonder if there is something I am missing out on in life, said Agnes. She shook her head as if to scold herself. But what does it matter to you anyway? Im probably boring you reflecting on myself.

Not at all, Logan said fighting off his weariness. Please go on.
Agnes smiled at him. I love working at this inn. You might say its She chuckled. Inn my blood!

The two shared a laugh under the stars.

Agnes smile however soon faded and she turned her gaze back out beyond the balcony. The future however looks grim for everyone present, even me. Even if I survive, if this inn is destroyed, Ill

Agnes, nothing is going to happen to you, I swear it! The words had come out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

She may look like Katrina, but she is nothing like Katrina. His mind scolded him for his impulsiveness. Friendship is the closest you will ever have with her, nothing more. And he forced himself to agree. It had been only about three months since Katrina died, much too soon to form other relationships with women, even if they would only be allowed to be just friends.

I mistook you for someone I used to know. He remembered telling her two months ago at the marriage of Edward and Minerva.

How long had it been the last time he and Katrina had been alone together? 
Underneath a beautiful night sky? Sharing with each other their hopes and dreams?
Agnes had now shared with Logan her fear and worry that she would not survive when the Scourge attacked. Obviously, word had already spread of the attacks on the other three kingdoms that formerly guarded one of the elemental blades. Few people would sleep soundly for days. It was only a matter of time when Arcanius was attacked. It was a certain possibility that they were marching through the desert toward the city at this moment.

What I mean to say is, he quickly corrected himself, is that I will make certain that you and as many people as possible survive when the Scourge attack. And if possible, I will try to limit the devastation.

I know what you said before Logan, she said facing him. Their eyes locked onto each other. There was no anger in her voice. Instead, she sounded grateful. A slight smile appeared across the corners of her lips. We havent known each other for very long, yet already I feel as if I can trust you with my life. I know for certain this time.

Logan found himself unable to look away. He suspected that there had been a time in her life when she had her trust betrayed by another. Yet, if only she knew of his dark past, or what could have been if he had indeed joined the Scourge in waging war on humanity rather than waging a one-man war in its defense. Would she still trust him?

What do you mean by for certain? he asked. Had there been another whom you once trusted, only to betray you?

I Agnes struggled to get the words out. She turned away, her cheeks red with shame. Her hesitation only confirmed his suspicions.

This other persondid you love him?

I Agnes once more struggled to get the words out, but her throat tightened with the noose of sorrow. She turned away and slowly headed back into the room of her birth. I thought I did. But it was just my heart playing tricks on me.

As he followed her back inside, Logan cursed himself for asking a personal question. I apologize if I caused you to relive your pain.

No, Anges said. Its alright. I guess it wouldnt hurt to tell you. She cleared her throat.

He was the son of a nobleman. Very handsome, all the young ladies admired him. Even I was infatuated with him. She sat upon the bed. For a time we did court. I actually believed that we would marry and settle down. However, once he found out I was a simple innkeepers daughter, he didnt want anything more to do with me. I never had a chance to experience the warm embrace of his arms or even one kiss. 
As she continued to speak, Logan felt her voice quivering with sorrow. He could tell she was on the verge of tears. He wanted to comfort and console her, but his heart, bound to Katrinas memory, held him back like a chain.

Immediately after he ended our affair that evening we were ambushed by a small group of bandits. We ran away but I tripped on a stone and fell. He never came back to help me nor did he look back as the bandits dragged me away to their hideout in another building downtown.

Logan stared at her in astonishment. He abandoned you to save his own skin? His stomach knotted with disgust. What a coward! He practically spat out the last word like the poison of a snakes tongue.

Had Katrina been in your shoes, I would have tried to rescue you. I would have risked my life for you. I would never abandon her to her fate. Nevertheless, he had tried to save her and he had failed. The agony of his failure would remain with him until the end of his days.

I waited days for him to come back with some guards and rescue me, but he never did. I spent a whole week as their prisoner, locked up in a room with no windows and living on nothing but stale bread and water. When I was finally rescued I discovered that he had become involved with another woman, one whom he later married. He hasnt spoken to me or even looked at me since then, not even when he comes into the inn. He has a boy of his own now and already he and his wife are teaching their son to look down upon me as if I am worth nothing.

Logan felt sorry for her. She had loved a man who in the end spurned her simply because she was not of nobility who ultimately abandoned her when she would have needed him. At the same time he grew more disgusted with her former lover and that he and his family looked down upon her because of her social status.

I find it strange, he said sitting down on the bed, keeping a small distance away from her, that you still find it easy to trust. Most other people in your shoes would not by so willing to jump back into the fire once theyve been burned.

Agnes wiped at her eyes. Logan could tell she was trying to fight back her tears. Obviously, she had lost the battle as one had begun to flow down beneath her eye like a tiny river.

Do you wish to know why? she asked. Because I believe there is a good and bad side to everybody. With of course the obvious exceptions.

She is probably thinking about Walter and the noblemans son.

I believe this to be true, he told her. I too know people who are so vile, cruel, and despicable, that the good in them is buried too deep to emerge. Sometimes I wonder if its actually even there. Like Revelin! I would also think of Garibaldi, but even in the end he showed remorse once his soul was restored after being betrayed by his master.

Even Garibaldi had some good in him, said Agnes. From what I was told after the stories of his death spread, I was one of few who sympathized with him. To be betrayed by someone he trusted and then left for dead, a feeling I know all too well. Not very many people feel the same though. Just a few weeks ago, some woman came here from Iconoclast, trying to gather signatures for a petition calling for Garibaldis pardon.

I doubt she got any, said Logan. He doubted whether he would actually sign such a petition.

No, Anges quickly corrected him. She did get a few. Logan surmised that she had signed the petition.

I too know what it is like to experience a major heartbreak, said Logan. There was someone who I cared for greatly. And when she was in grave danger from death at the hands of the Scourge, I did my best to save her. But it wasnt enough. Its that one memory, that one experience, and that one incident that forever shaped the course my life has taken. Its why Ive dedicated my life to battling the Scourge.

He made sure to leave out the details of his past.

Agnes locked her gaze upon him. I suppose its not something you want to talk to me about? she asked.

Logan shook his head. Its too painful for me to even think about it. Even to this day

Agnes placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder. Loganterrible memories can be a great weakness, one that your enemies may use against you. Dont let these memories destroy you.

They sat in silence for several more moments before Agnes arose from the bed.
Its getting late Mr. Logan. You must be very tired by now.

I could say the same for you, said Logan.

You should get some rest, said Anges opening the door. She turned back to him with a last smile. Good night Mr. Logan.

Before he could tell her goodnight, she closed the door, leaving him to himself.
					#
In his dreams, Logan found himself standing within a vast field of wildflowers underneath a starlit sky, devoid of clouds. The full moon illuminated the ground all around him. A gentle breeze blew all around him. And then, a soft hand joined together with his, indicating that he was not alone in this beautiful place.

He turned to see a familiar beautiful woman emerge from the darkness and into the moonlight. Her emerald eyes twinkled more beautifully than any of the stars in the sky and her chocolate brown hair was tied back in a single ponytail. Despite this being a dream, he found himself hardly able to contain his joy once he recognized his companion as his lost true love.

Katrina! his voice was a loud whisper as soft as the wind. Smiling, she placed her hands upon his shoulders as he placed his own around her waist. They pulled each other forward as if a powerful magnetic force was at work. They locked eyes with each other and their lips moved closer.

Suddenly, Katrinas eyes widen with shock and surprise as a mysterious force pulled her away from his body. The flowers surrounding them wilted and died, vanishing into thin air, leaving nothing but a barren lifeless topsoil as if it had been ravaged by a massive wildfire. He reached out to her, calling her name, and tried to run after her, but his legs would not obey his spirit. He felt paralyzed with helplessness as he saw two robed figures appear, grabbing Katrinas shoulders.

Take the girl away, Garibaldis voice commanded from nowhere. Kill her now!

No! he cried. No! You cant!

Logan! Katrina cried out in terror. Help me!

Her captors suddenly merge and became a wooden stake with her arms tied behind her back, securing her for the execution squad. Five Scourge soldiers materialize from nowhere several yards away, wielding shotguns and Tommy Guns. He recognized every single one of their faces. Whatever cruel force at work holding him back would still not release him. No matter how hard he tried, he could no break free. His eyes forced him to look helplessly ahead and bear witness.

Once more, Logan felt the stab of helplessness and powerlessness within his soul. Even if this was only just a dream, his most horrific memory had come to life as if to taunt him.

Fire! Revelins familiar voice shouted.

No! Logan screamed as their weapons screamed lead all at once.

He shut his eyes to block out the sight of his love meeting a horrible end as silent tears streamed down his face. The sounds of gunfire battered his eardrums.

Logan! a womans voice echoed in the air around him. Logan, wake up!

He opened his eyes to find himself back upon the bed in the inn. Even back in reality, the dream tugged at his soul and mind. However, something felt wrong. He could still hear the sounds of gunfire, even if not as loud as in the dream. But there was another sound: the cries and screams of civilians.

Once his vision cleared and adjusted to the light of the early morning he was greeted by Agnes face. He thought of saying good morning to her but once he saw the fear in her eyes he immediately realized that something was wrong.

Logan! her voice quivered with fear. Theyre here!

His eyes opened wide and he sat up in bed. What! So soon? Even though he had long come before them, the battle had begun without him already. He cursed himself for his failure to rise earlier.

She nodded. They came without warning from the desert just as the sun appeared over the horizon. The first line of our defense has been completely obliterated!
By now, Logan had already climbed out of bed, working as fast as his alert body would handle. He pulled on his boots, applied the trench coat to his body, and placed the hat upon his head. Whatever force that held him back from saving Katrina in the dream had released him. Even if it had not, there was no way he would allow it to hold him back any longer. He grabbed his weapons from under the bed and quickly loaded his shotgun and Tommy Gun. His gut and blood pulsed with anger at the sounds of gunfire and civilians screaming in terror. It was time for him to be a one-man army once more.

Oh my god! Agnes cried backing away from a window. Theyre right outside the inn!

Logan gazed out the window and saw the carnage below. The sight of several Scourge soldiers holding a few poor civilians at gunpoint caught his attention. Would they attack the inn next? Had the doors been barricaded to prevent their entry?

There was no way he was going to allow this carnage to continue. Not in the name of Katrina! He may had failed to save her, but he still had to save as many civilians as possible. And there was certainly no way he was going to let them harm Anges, Katrinas near-perfect double.

Agnes, stay inside where you will be safe! Logan ordered her. Get everyone to barricade the doors! He took one dynamite stick from his trench coat and showed it to her. If you see one of these, run! Dont come anywhere near it or let anyone for that matter!

He forced open the doors leading out to the balcony.

Logan, please be careful! Agnes said.

Worry about me later Agnes, he told her. For now, youve got to worry about yourself, your father, your home, and everyone else!

He shut the door and readied his weapons as the Scourge soldiers opened fire on the defenseless civilians, ignoring their cries and pleas for mercy.

Righteous fury, coming right up! he called out to the morning carnage. With a mighty battle cry, he catapulted himself off the platform to the street below.