A strange relief lifted a weight off of the stranger’s chest at the description of the disease. While it wasn’t what he was thinking of, it still was unacceptable. Although now he questioned leaving the strange child from the anti-paladin in this place even more skeptically. He shook off the thought as the woman urged him to give up his name.


	“I am Derrix "Nightbane" Herchiv” He said, “and I will help.” 

	Nightbane wasn’t about to refuse to help the children from their disease and he decided he might as well take a trip to the shop to see Sister Agnes.

	The woman he had been talking to suddenly waved to him farewell and started to walk away. Nightbane called out, “you owe me your name.”

	With the debt sealed he continued on his way out of the tavern. As he passed his white horse, he laid the plate on the ground. He snatched what cured hams that were laid on top and lifting his helmet just enough to pop them into his mouth before letting the heavy helmet fall back in it’s place. 

	His horse happily started to gobble wetly on the plate of breads and grains, and Nightbane continued past him and into the shop. 

	A variety of smells would have assaulted his nostrils if not for his thick lavender mask hiding behind the face of his helmet. He blinked past the light of the apothecary that rivaled the soft morning glow of the sun and laid his eyes on the elderly nun.

	“Sister Agnes?”