Page 54 - Demo

Unexpectedly the Priest ruffled my hair and smiled down at me, a vain attempt to reassure me. The ginormous gates blocked our path and two guards walked up, dawning armour that looked straight out of ancient Rome.
“Halt, state your business,” both spoke in unison.
“I came across the child who is the only survivor of a tragedy. I need to get immediate medical attention for my young companion.”
The guards didn’t hesitate and used their spears to knock on the gates. The stone doors slowly opened and the Priest and I entered. The only way I could describe Arasta Village is by comparing it to a time capsule. It looked straight out of the Roman Empire at its prime. A colosseum rose up in the distance, multiple buildings with marble columns and an aqueduct in the center of the streets, allowing travel by boat. But despite its grandeur, I felt something in the back of my mind. It was subtle but I knew that something about this place was off, really off.
We were directed to a valetudinaria, a medical center that mainly treated soldiers. The building was made of brick and shaped like a square and had an outdoor courtyard. The staff were nice and cleaned me up and wrapped my ankle in a loosely woven cloth that acted as gauze. The Priest managed to get us a room in one of the nearby hostels, carrying the crutch that was shoved into arms on my way out. The hostel, like everything else in Arasta Village, was amazing. The room was gorgeous and we had a great view of the inner courtyard that had a small pool of water and a garden.
“This is... really pretty,” I admitted.