"Sir Scala, the medical officer of the camp, is in that room. Go and report." Captain Cole pointed to a cabin not far away and said to Rowe.
Rowe nodded and passed.
"Dong dong."
"Please come in."
Luo Wei pushed open the door and entered, and saw a tall and thin middle-aged man sitting and reading something.
The desk was full of various documents, which looked a little messy. The camp medical officer is not only responsible for battlefield medical treatment, but also many trivial matters.
"Lord Scala, I'm a new doctor, Rowe Garrison." Rowe handed over his identity information and said.
Scala looked at it, then got up and went to a wooden box to rummage for a while, took out a book "The Rules of the Third Camp", a key, and a dagger and handed it to Rowe.
"The key is your room key. The room number is written on it. The house to the east is the doctor's residence."
"...Daggers are used for self-defense. Skrins often sneaks up on our camp. Although patrolling soldiers can solve them in most cases, there are also unexpected times. Once they enter the camp, we also have to make some preparations."
Just as he was talking to himself, Scala suddenly stopped, looked at the Fist of Verrigan in Rowe's hand, and frowned slightly: "Warhammer?"
"Uh, it was given to me by a friend for self-defense." Rowe said.
"This is not an ordinary weapon. I can feel its magical fluctuations. If I didn't guess, it should be the power of fire... Your friend is so generous." Scala said slowly.
He then added: "Fighting is not the duty of a healer. Although your hammer is very good, let the soldiers protect you as much as possible, understand?"
"Yes." Rowe replied.
"Go." Scala sat down and said without looking up.
Luo Wei turned to leave and came to the camp doctor's residence. This is a three-story building with a wooden structure.
There are many forests in Warnerheim, which are rich in vegetation and rich in various kinds of wood. Therefore, most of the buildings in Warnerheim are made of wood.
Looking at the numbers on the key, Luo Wei found his room on the second floor and opened the door to enter.
The room is very small, a single cabin, the bed takes up half of the space, and the rest of the space is taken up by the table and chairs. A window was opened in the wall on the side of the bed.
Luo Wei was lying on the window, looking out, he saw endless green forests and vast rolling mountains.
Some birds can be seen in the sky from time to time, some are huge, some are colorful, all of which are species he has never seen before.
Unlike Asgard, a peculiar celestial body, Warnerheim is a standard planet with a vast area and a variety of races. The Warner Protoss is only the strongest of the many Warner races, occupying a dominant position and being regarded by the Warners as gods.
In addition to the Warner Protoss, there are many races here, including many intelligent races, such as Warners, Scrins, trolls, Kronan and so on.
This is Warnerheim...
"Hey, are you new here?" The door was not closed when a sound came from outside.
Luo Wei turned to look, but saw a blond young man standing at the opposite door, looking towards him.
He doesn't seem to be very old, at most a few decades old, maybe even underage.
"Yes." Rowe nodded.
The blond young man came over: "My name is Sigurd, and I'm also a doctor. What's your name?"
"Rovi." Rovey said, "By the way, I heard that this is a mixed camp, why didn't I see the people from the Warner Protoss?"
Sigurd smiled and said, "Do you think they look special? You know, the Warner Protoss and the Asa Protoss share a common ancestor."
"Is it any different from us?"
"No, except for culture." Sigurd shrugged.
"They're all gods, and they have a common ancestor, so what's the difference? Find someone at the camp, and before you communicate with him, you can't tell whether he is the Asa **** or the Vana god."
"Okay." Rowe nodded.
It is worth mentioning that the so-called "God Race" refers to a powerful race in a broad sense, but there are actually specific standards, but the standards are somewhat controversial.
According to the mainstream, that is, the Asa Protoss and the Warner Protoss, the Protoss should have these characteristics: humanoid; highly intelligent; kind and benevolent; possessing a strong body, able to survive in the space environment; and no obvious flaws.
According to this standard, Frost Giants, Dark Elves and other races are excluded.
Naturally dissatisfied, they set up a set of Protoss standards that are suitable for them to fight against. This is the source of the controversy over the "Protoss" standards.
Frost giants and dark elves were expelled from the gods by the Aesir. The main reason was not their moral quality. After all, the evaluation of moral quality is always subjective and not very convincing.
The Aesir believe that they are extremely evil, and their evaluation of the Aesir is the same.
What really expelled them from the gods was actually their physical defect.
The frost giants are not adapted to the heat, and the dark elves are afraid of the light. This is obvious, and they have no way to refute them themselves.
Dark elves have a particularly strong fear of light. For this reason, they even have to wear special masks and armors to block the invasion of light.
Exposure to the bright environment is a challenge for the dark elves, and ordinary dark elves would never dare to do so.
Because of this huge flaw, the dark elf's grave has grown old.
In contrast, the Asa Gods and the Vana Gods have no obvious flaws, are not particularly afraid of a specific environment, and have strong adaptability.
"Sigurd, how long have you been in Warnerheim?" The two were talking.
Sigurd said: "It's been almost a year. I heard that Warnerheim is rich in medicinal herbs, and there is no danger, so I came here."
Luo Wei: "How do you feel?"
"It is indeed rich in medicinal herbs. You can feel it when you look out the window. There are plants everywhere. However, this place is not as safe or comfortable as I thought." Sigurd thought for a while and said.
Rowe was a little surprised: "Why, are the Scrins people very powerful?"
"No, the Skrins are weak. Their strength and intelligence are no higher than that of fifteen-year-old Asgardians. I can easily defeat them," Sigurd said.
"But there are too many of them, you can never kill them all, and the Scrins are very disgusting. I have never seen such disgusting humanoids."
When he spoke, he seemed to recall something, pouted, showing a disgusting expression.
"All I can say is... the Scrins, from soul to body, are downright filthy and depraved."