There’s something about human settlements that puts me on edge. They’re always curiously joyful places, optimistic in the face of overwhelming odds. And the odds usually are overwhelming, given the adversity humans face on every front – but they’re always hopeful, relentlessly so, and it tends to make me nauseous.
Still, it was with a certain sense of relief that I finally saw Seraph’s Landing come into view. We’d been struggling through the Hinterlands for days, dodging centaur patrols, rock dogs, and even a nest of giant spiders. I was grubby and footsore, worn out in body and mind.
It didn’t help, of course, that after Caolinn’s revelations – that she’d been working for Darr, spying on Spark all along – I was wary of getting too close to either the charr or the sylvari. Caolinn’s intentions were good, true, but her faultless duplicity made me uneasy, as did her assertion that Spark was planning… something. Well, I’d known for a long time that Spark wasn’t just out here to enjoy the scenery, but for much of our journey I’d been able to blissfully ignore just what she was up to.