Jiana Muse shuffled along the sandy road. Since joining The Reliquary, she had been assigned to shadow an agent who had been present at the indrik hunt, a large redguard named Braxwolf. Braxwolf talked more than Jiana liked, and drank more ale than she preferred. In fact, they were opposites in most ways. Her frail frame and pale skin sizzled under the uncompromising Alik’r Desert sun. Braxwolf’s bald, brown head reflected it nearly as much as his heavy plate armor did, but he did not seem bothered by the heat. Jiana sometimes wondered if this was Jibbs’ and Kash’s idea of a joke – sending a small, quiet vampire into the blazing desert with this chatty tank of a man. But Brax’s sword and shield were second to none and his heart desired only good. Despite their differences, he was the perfect mentor.