There was one bandit left alive and Flint made sure that he was securely tied to a tree a ways from our small camp. I had stripped the other bandits of anything valuable, and after the prisoner was secured, Flint began to stack the bodies on some dried brush on the south side of the road and set them ablaze. By the time this was all done it was near dark and Flint had decided to set up camp for the evening. After the grizzly work was done, Flint set up camp upwind from the funeral pyre, amusingly enough under the shelter of evergreens where I had decided to relax earlier. The priest laid down some plates from his pack and said a prayer to Shada’ Val, a few seconds later the plates were heaped with cooked food. There was some sort of small roasted bird, an assortment of spiced vegetables that looked like they had some sauce drizzled over them and several small round steaming bread rolls. Flint looked over to me and with a smirk on his face and said “Shada’ Val provides”.

We ate in silence, Flint occasionally glancing over to me and wincing visibly as I shoved pieces of food into my face with my fingers while he ate with a knife and a two-pronged silver fork. After the food was done he said another quick prayer and the plates and utensils were miraculously cleaned and he turned around in his seat and placed them into the pack on the ground next to him. He grabbed another item and tossed it to me, it was a well-made bedroll followed by a thick wool blanket. “No companion of mine sleeps in the dirt, and it is likely to get a bit cold tonight.”. I gladly accepted the bedroll and blanket, mine had been stolen years ago and I just never ended up replacing it.

“Did you get hurt?” Flint asked.

“No.” I replied.

“That’s good to hear. So what were you doing out here if I may ask?” Flint had removed his silver-lined armor before they cleaned up the battle and now wore only a plain white tunic, crimson leggings, and his polished black riding boots that were the common uniform of the battle priests. His silver amulet, shaped like the hammer that he carried, was still around his neck and I could not help noticing that for a man who was probably in his late forties, he was more fit than most men were in their twenties.

“I was headed for Jewel Abbey or Leatie Chapel so’s I could sell me goats and pigeons.” I said, then after a few seconds, I continued. “You notice anything strange ‘bout them bandits?” I was sitting on the ground, the hood still covering my face in a smelly lump without care for decorum or grace. Flint, on the other hand, sat straight-backed and rigid, I knew that his priestly order was more like a military branch than any regular priestly order.

“Not particularly, I didn’t have much time to give them much more than a cursory examination. Did you?” Flint sat forward a bit trying to see into the depths of my hood. Though I could tell that he was sure that the face inside that hood was as loathsome as the smell the rest of him emitted, he still seemed curious to see the face of the man that came to his aid.

“Yes. They weren’t no bandits. They moved better. They were soldiers. You has enemies?” A small piece of bread disappeared into my hood and I smacked my lips a little extra loud so that it could be heard over the crackle of the fire, a little mischievous smile crossing my lips.

“Are you sure they were professional? I have the same enemies that my church has always had and I have no personal enemies that I can recall. As luck would have it I was heading to Aquneum myself. Perhaps you would care to travel with me, there is a certain safety in numbers and I feel obliged to accompany you until my debt is paid in full.” Flint looked across the fire, his face set firm. I knew there was no way he could outrun the battle priest on a mule so there was likely no way to shake him, and killing a battle priest in his sleep was low beyond even my standards.

“I s’pose.” That was all that I said since the idea didn’t really thrill me at all. There were certain habits and practices that I had that a battle priest probably would frown upon, not to mention various secrets that I wanted to stay that way. There was no use trying to argue with a battle priest though, once they got their mindset on a debt owed and the quest to repay it they were more unyielding than stone.

“Nibingul huh? I don’t recognize the origins of the name and pardon me for saying it, but it’s not exactly the most flattering sounding name. Between the choice of Wretch and Nibingul, I think I would choose something like Jonas or Charles.” The priest smiled a bit to himself as he said it, he seemed to think of himself as a rather witty fellow. I had not really taken my eyes off him since we sat down, I do not trust other people, for that matter I really did not even like other people.

“I’m a ugly kind of person so they suit me.”

“No offense, friend. Just trying to make conversation and you aren’t very willing to hold up your end of that social obligation. Are your bathing habits religion-based?” Another little smirk.

“I ain’t got no religion. And I don’t bathe cause it will kill ya. Water ain’t good fer people who live in the gutters and under bridges.” I said with a little more of a growl in my voice than I intended. Flint held his hands up in surrender.

“No harm meant, I surrender!” Flint chuckled and then laid down on his bedroll. “It’s getting late and I like to get up early to travel. We should be in Jewel Abbey by dinner time tomorrow. Good night Nibingul and Shada’Val keep you safe.” He was snoring almost as soon as he shut his eyes.