Reflections

Finally free from the cloying stench of the dung pits and with relative safety in sight, Bastien felt comfortable enough to relax for a few moments.

He carefully unclasped the leather straps that held his armour firm and placed it carefully on the ground beside the pool he'd found in the fast moving stream. His plate had picked up a few dents and scratches in the caves but had held up well overall. A sturdy and trusted partner. Picking up handfuls of coarse sand, Bastien scraped off the worst of the sewer muck and wiped the sections dry using some large leaves he'd found further upstream.

Then it was time for himself. Jumping in the freezing pool shocked him out of his daydream but he lasted long enough to scrub himself until the stink seemed to be mostly gone. Clambering out he wrapped himself in a blanket and gazed thoughtfully at his reflection in the now still pool.

He needed a shave and a haircut - an easy fix at the next town - but he looked gaunt, and the bags under his eyes spoke volumes to his fatigue. He knew his friends needed a rest as much as he did, especially Marlon who had given so much of himself in their recent dealings with the Nerull worshippers and grey cloaks. Bastien was pleased they had thwarted the evil doers plans, but knew they would only regather their strength for some other nefarious aim. They had to be stopped once and for all.

With a rye smile, he acknowledged the niggling doubt that their escape had been too easy. What - or who - had been waiting for them down the other tunnels? He shuddered at the thought.

Suddenly another thought interrupted his reverie, appearing from who knows where. Looking down at his fingernails, Bastien wondered...

Had he remembered to wash his hands?