[b] Silverwick[/b]

The dwarf brushed off Salvio’s request, and the priest was wrong-footed for a moment, but as he glanced around the camp, he saw that many of the group were settling down to rest and his own weariness suddenly flooded into his limbs. It had been a long journey, and he had taken little time to rest, the angel spurring him ever onwards towards Silverwick. The armour he wore suddenly feeling like lead, Salvio took a seat close to the fire, leaning back against a pile of crumbled masonry. 

His peace was not long lived, as he heard footsteps approaching the fire. One hand instinctively flying to grip the well-worn handle of one of his hammers, his other hand wrapped around the amulet around his neck. He felt the spirit rush through him, and at once the voice spoke, almost as if it had been waiting too do so. 

“Another lost soul, Salvio. You must gain their trust.”

Grimacing against the complaints from his weary joints, Salvio rose to his feet, releasing his grip on both the hammer and the amulet as a figure stepped into the light of the crackling fire. Tall and dark haired, the man had the look of a mercenary, and Salvio couldn’t help but admire the powerful warhorse that he led over the cracked stone remains of Silverwicks once broad and imposing streets. He raised a hand to catch the other man’s attention, calling out over the fire. 

“Greetings traveller, how goes your journey?”

“As far as can be expected when one comes to these parts.” Gabriel replied, accessing the other man. “Agatho D’amere, at your service.” He gave a short bow. “And you are?”

Salvio nodded his head in greeting. 

“Well, met friend. Salvio Vitelli.”

He gestured towards the handful of other figures gathered around the fire, shrugging apologetically. 

“I’m afraid I can’t introduce the others, for I have only just arrived myself. But can I assume that we are both here for the same reason?”

“You mean the greatest terrors of the ancient world drawing us all here?” Gabriel chuckled. “Either that or you sir have some odd ideas about places to visit.”

Salvio managed to hide the stab he felt in his heart at the mention of the evil in which he had surrounded himself as he gestured for Agatho to come closer to the fire and sank back to his own seat by the fire. 

“The former I assure you. That's a fine beast you have, how do you earn your coin, sir?”

Gabriel settled by the fire, his horse calmly trotting off somewhere else.
“As of now I’m not earning any coin. But I used to fight in the Free Cities. No shortage of demand for those willing to shed blood. And you, sir?”

“I thought you had the look of a soldier. I have no doubt you have many great tales of your time there! I am afraid I am nothing as grand, although I too have shed my share of blood. I take only what coin the gods provide.”

Gabriel laughed. Act or not, the idea of a Legionnaire taking in with a priest was a funny one. But then again, besides the armor, the old man’s clothing kinda looked like what Gabriel had seen among the clergy of some Free Cities. Not that it mattered much anymore. At least not for the moment,

“Which Legionnaire decided to bring a Priest into our wicked little band?”

Salvio hesitated for a brief moment, hand going to grip the amulet around his neck. The voice within all but spoke through him, as he echoed the words. 

“Ravan the Unsacred. Still chasing your paradise, Agabyzus?”

“Of course!” Gabriel laughed, voice growing strangely smoother and accented. “Old habits die hard for both of us, it seems.”

Gabriel turned to look upwards, growing distant for a moment. Before finally speaking, voice back to normal.

“How did a man of the cloth end up tangled in this anyways?” He asked, amusement clear in his expression.

“The same way we all did, I fear. We started hearing voices in our head, and thought it was a good idea to listen.”