Wraith stood on the porch, fully geared up in his black leather stealth armor, breathing heavily. He held a pair of mundane, razor-sharp iron daggers in his hands. He looked like he had just sprinted a marathon.
"What?" Sebastian asked flatly, leaning against the doorframe.
"A rift just opened," Wraith panted, pointing a dagger toward the dense forest north of Sanctuary. "About three miles out. It wasn't the Elves this time. It's a raiding party. Big guys. Heavy armor. They look like scavengers from one of the outer rim servers. They're already setting up a camp and slaughtering the local wildlife."
Sebastian stared at the assassin for a long, quiet moment. He looked back into the cabin. The smell of fresh coffee was drifting from the kitchen. Valerie was standing by the stove, holding two mugs, looking at him with a tired, knowing expression.
"I just wanted to sleep in," Sebastian whispered, a profound sadness in his voice.
