[It doesn't take Dixon that long to get there, mostly because he's spent a lot of time getting used to these woods. For whatever reason, the temple itself makes him feel queasy. He's been going there to sleep, but that's only because it's cold and damp out here at night. In a battle between malaise and pneumonia, malaise wins.

He shows up, dead raccoon in hand and golden shield strapped to his back, somehow magically smaller than it is when he carries it by hand.]

You keep looking at that long enough maybe someone else will pop up. I think there's about twenty of us now. [He jerks his chin at the mirror, then his eyebrows rise as he sees the sword.] You bring that here or did you wake up with it?