"Are you ready?" Anna said from her seat on the horse.
"Yes, one moment."
Ken was sitting on a log with his shield propped in his lap. It was ornate, golden and white, gaudy, the shield of an Inquisitor. He took a charred piece of wood from the fire and rubbed it across the surface, spreading the ashes onto it.
"What are you doing?" Asked Anna.
"I can handle losing my armor, but I still need my shield. But anyone can tell from a mile away it's from the Sanctum. Too shiny."
"Ah."
He finished smearing it with soot and inspected it. The engravings were still prominent, but the surface was now blackened and dull. He saw no reflection where one had once been.
"A shield fit for an oathbreaker."