Bardric

You and Bardric have been standing on the side of the old dirt road for what feels like hours as the merchant continues giving a sales pitch for his finest mules. Bardric is silent as the man drawls on, but you are starting to get irritated. Your feet ache terribly from the long walk to town. You had asked Bardric to stay near the wagon, but he seemed resistant to your orders, not that he could physically stay far from you anyway. The teardrop symbol carved into his jugular pulses faintly with power, along with the same design carved into your wrist that prevents you two from being separated.

"And Ol' Eyegor!" the merchant continues, presenting the elder mule trembling on bony legs near his wagon. "He's a fine animal with the strength to haul six people plus supplies! He's never let me down yet! He'll be about...five thousand jin, yeah?" The amount he's offering is a ridiculous amount for an old mule near its deathbed. They need a young mule who can take the journey from Vale to Baldur without rest. You can see Bardric has paid no attention, focusing on his sharp white nails instead.