At this point, with the biggest repair quests handled, it’s easy to think things are normal.
But…we’re not quite there yet, are we?
And, really, I don’t know whatnormalfor Gem Ridge looks like. I’ve only seen the aftermath in the game. The rebuild. Thenewnormal.
Vale of Gemsdid an outstanding job setting itself up. It built a world that worked. It fashioned memorable characters with unique histories. It offered an illusion of depth.
But still it took being here to understand real lives were rerouted in the wake of the floodwaters. Real loss happened.
And it wasn’t contained to the pocket of the Ridge.
This entire area faced a natural disaster, and it will take time for the land itself to heal.
It doesn’t take long at all for the city walls to rise fully into view, boasting something of security. Cobbled streets and bustling vendors welcome us in as Samson draws me closer to his side. His body works as a barrier between me and everything as he winds his way through with a finality and familiarity I wouldn’t expect him to have after so many years tucked away on his farm.
Steadily we make it to a grand building labeled as none other thanAmecrest’sAdventurer Guild. Samson’s eyes roll as I take in the gable roof, balconies, and grand double-door entrance. The two-story building dwarfs those around it, including a modest armory that Samson pushes us into.
The deep chime of a bell hooked to the door heralds our entrance.
“Welcome in!” a woman calls, emerging from a back room to settle herself at a counter dead ahead.
Rows of armor stands usher us up to her, and only once we’re securely at the head of the vacant room does the tension holding Samson like a sentry around my body ease.
Planting leather-clad hands at narrow hips, the woman lifts her chin, unsmiling. “What can I do ya for?”
Hefting a sigh, Samson tucks his hand into the coin pouch at his hip and retrieves a metal card, offering it. “First off, is this any good?”
The woman’s dark eyes flick down, then back up. “Ya, Guild Cards’ll always be good here. We appreciate past, present, and future service.” She rolls her jaw. “Hasn’t been updated in a minute, though, huh? Coming out of retirement, big guy?”
Firm, Samson shakes his head and references me. “Getting her started.”
The woman’s gaze hits me, and I stand a little straighter than is perhaps wholly necessary.
Or, actually, than is perhaps sufficient, because she says, “Daughter?”
“No.” Samson gives no further information about who the heck I am to him as he begins delineating his requirements for my armor. “I want something light, but covering.”
“Any particular blessings?”
“What rank is your blessed these days?”
“Sapphire.”
Samson’s head shakes. “I’ve Ruby connections.”
“Price range?”
“No limit. I want her to have the best.”
My heart jerks up into my throat.
Samson leans his palm against the counter, towering over the woman. “But…be aware this is far from my first time buying armor, and if the quality doesn’t match the cost, I will go elsewhere.”
Her dark eyes sweep across the revealed scar at Samson’s throat. “Looks like you could’ve done with better armor at least once.”
“Off-duty night attack,” Samson mutters. “I heard the scream of a child while I was at an inn on the outskirts of this very city.”
The woman wets her lips. “My mistake.”
