“The desert is not lonely” [*Open *]

[Palacrisis D Jones]

Time stamp to be arranged but around Melora era XIII

[Pala in peer mod mode]

QM threw a burly arm across his broad Dorin face and scowled up at the suns that beat down with a remorseless laugh at the sight of the small caravan train which was plodding across the vast waste of the furnace lke desert. QM swore and then regretted the effort. He had vowed that after the last expedition he had led out here that he was never …..never, going into the desert again but his old friend Horo had persuaded him. The cactus wine had flowed in the nameless little hamlet and the strange little brown man had chattered on and on so much so that the truculent ex Mudjahedin quarter master had agreed just to shut him up.

So it was that instead of sipping cold wine in the shady little bar that he called home he was being broiled alive in the north- west corner of the Arakmatian desert sitting on a ….camel. Great smelly beasts with a temper like his mother in law when her porridge was too hot. QM hated camels but for all that he knew their worth in this environment a good camel was the difference between life and death. Horo had persuaded him that they should run carpets up to Silrosia and see if they got a better price but the QM knew this was not the real reason they were out here with eight camels and enough supplies to last three months.

Horo was strange, mystical and wise beyond his considerable years a doyen of desert men who knew the shape of the shifting sands better than he knew the dark wool of his yurt in the hidden valley deep in the southern desert. He was not a trader he was a dreamer of dreams a man of the deepest spiritual beliefs a father too many and husband to more wives than he could remember, old as the mountains and yet still sprightly as a nimble goat. He wore a simple brown blanket tied with cord and had a single obsidian knife with a medicine bag attached to the cord around his waist.

They had formed an unlikely friendship during the ill fated expedition to discover a lost gold mine and although the bluff warrior Dorin and the ancient little man were a strange couple they trusted each other implicitly.

As the suns rose to impossible heat in the centre of the brightening they tethered the camels put up a lean too, brewed sweet tea and settled down to sit out the worst of the heat to sleep drink and nibble dates and hard bread. The dark patch of the blanket could be clearly seen from the great dunes that surrounded their little camp and the hospitality code of the desert would allow strangers to approach their camp to share water and salt as a sign of good will.

[Remy]

Little patience did Remy have, little indeed. "So much for planning ahead," he thought to himself as he wandered the sands looking for his desert guide fellow he was supposed to be following. As far as he was concerned, he had planned to pay far too much to get lost on some last minute journey. In actuality of course he would be paying very little, though it seemed like a lot for him and his current state of limited funds. Then again, Remy had always been a little on the cheap side and just lately he had spent quite a bit of coinage on spelunking equipment. It figured that he'd come across an opportunity that had absolutely nothing to do with caves.

The sun was beating down on his gnomish brow and just a candle mark before his canteen had gone dry, due largely to his gulping of every last drop. "For the gods' sake, where is he?!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, utterly annoyed that this guide had led him out here and then left him stranded. "First he leads me out here, then he leaves me in this gods' forsaken gritty hole!" His voice, small but poignant, echoed in the hot desert air.

"And who the @#%*! are you?" he yelled at, noticing a glimmering caravan in the near distance, his head flinging into the air in frustration.

"Oh!" he said, wrenching his head back towards the caravan, the image and his situation finally rationalizing in his head. He was stranded in the middle of the desert, unsure of where to go and without water and here was a caravan near by that probably knew exactly where to go and most likely had water. "Duh!" he thought to himself, smacking his forehead with his left palm.

The clattering supplies in his backpack on his back made his running towards the caravan anything but discrete. They clopped and dinged all the way up to the dorin sitting near one of the camels. "Good brightening I say to you sir!" he yelled out in an excited, yet gasping tone. He bent over, his hands on his knees and caught his breath in four deep exhales. "This damn backpack," he said, unleashing it from his shoulders and letting it fall to the sand next to him.

"The name's Remy," he said looking up at the Dorin and thin human whose shadows towered over his 2'6" frame. "I'm afraid I'm lost."

[Elan]

The snow in Mystique and the rain in Medonia had been abominable, and Elan had thought nothing could annoy him more. Then he'd left the walls of Arakmat to leg his way through the desert to Syl'rosya.

The suns were merciless in the desert, the air so dry each breath seemed to suck the moisture from his lungs and the vigor from his legs. He wore only an undershirt of white linen and breeches, but still the sweat poured down his brow, stinging his eyes and leaving salty tracks on his cheeks.

Should have taken the caravan, should have taken the caravan, should have taken the fething caravan! the elf silently cursed with each plodding step, too sore and tired to utter the oaths aloud. The caravan had wound its way through the Lauryl woodlands into the sands of Arakmat, and Elan supposed he ought to be grateful for even that much. The troupe leader had been a consummate haggler, extorting over 50 crowns from the elf for the journey from Mystique to Arakmat. The elf had paid the fee, but that was not the end of it. At Arakmat the human had tried to fleece him for another 50 crowns, and after the short, profanity-laced argument that ensued had thrown Elan from the caravan before entering the city.

And now here he was, wandering the desert with no clue as to where he should be heading. The candlemarks came and went, while the heat built and built and the sands stretched on and on. Just as he was about to collapse from sheer exhaustion, the elf raised his eyes from the endless track before him and spied the dark cloth of some sort of shelter in the distance. Excitement and relief washed over him, and he hobbled towards the encampment as quickly as his legs would allow.

"Serale," he called as he neared the group, a motley mixture of human, dorin, and even a gnome for good measure. "Do you have some water to spare, by any chance?"

[Eir'helm Mithania]

Eir'helm liked the heat. He much preferred the heat over the cold. Having spent a few cycles in the less civilized bits of the empire, the colder parts, he was enjoying the warmth. Laying outside in the sun, topless, Eir'helm was soaking up the light. The bard wasn't worried about the heat, it was a whole lot better then freezing to death.

Barefoot, half naked, the bard sat in the sand. There was a water skin to his right, and a drum and staff to his left. Unlike the others though he was good.

Watching and waiting though the most fearsome of beasts struck the elf, besides commitment; he was slowly washed over by boredom. Yes, it was nice to lie in the sand, and the camels seemed to be manned by lesser races, but the elf approached anyways. With a sigh, a half naked bard wondered forward towards the men and women.

“Serale... how are we doing this fine brightening?”

[Palacrisis D Jones]

QM was dozing in the heat his keffiyeh pulled over his face to keep out stray bits of wind blown sand but his friend sat in the meagre shade listening and watching the sounds and movements of the desert . Horo’s dreams had been vivid recently and as he walked the dream road he felt pulled to make this journey, there would be others who would join him and QM and some faces he had already seen in his visions others were just vague blurs. Dreams have a habit of coming true and thus it was with Horo. The relative peace of the desert was disturbed and footsteps in the sand told their own stories. He nudged the dozing dorin in the ribs and announced they come

The little gnome was the first announcing his presence with a rattle and clatter and a breathless introduction, Moro had met him in the same nameless hamlet and at his request had invited the Kerrigan gnome to join the caravan. A collector of trinkets he had called himself not that anyone would expect to find items of value in the heat of the sandy waste but then Horo reflected that the desert held many secrets just below the sands.

He stood up and with a soft voice touched lips and forehead Welcome friend gnome your search is over and you are no longer lost share water and salt with us

The elf was next footsore and dusty with a hint of his demise in his eyes, the desert was not an easy mistress and by his appearance it was obvious that he was under prepared to pay court to her with the reverence and respect she required.

Horo watched as he made his way towards the camp and with the same gesture of respect …”Your politeness earns you favour of the gods friend elf , do they not say that charity and hospitality earn favours in the afterlife drink rest yourself and tell us your name. I am Horo plain and simple Horo and my big friend is QM, it is short for quarter master and he tells me that he has forgotten his birth name.”

The water sack was passed across and although the liquid was sweet it was warm as blood.

Another elf, this time walking with a spring in his step, bare headed and still with energy to spare a jaunty greeting and a pleasant lyrical voice. QM shook his head in disbelief, hatless in this heat, why the brain could boil in this temperature He got up and began rummaging in the packs carried by the camels muttering under his breath

stupid plain bloo….stupid

Horo without a moments delay returned the greeting, Serale to you traveller, the day is good and we live under the gaze of the gods, yes it is a fine brightening. Will you stop share a meal and drink and grace our company with the favour of your name?

[Remy]

Remy could have slapped himself to a bloody pulp he was in such shock. This was the guy! This guy standing right in front of him! This was the guy who had said to meet him in this area, which Remy wasn't sure was even the right area or where he was at all really, but this was the guy! He simply couldn't believe it.

He also couldn't show one bit of shock because he was so exhausted. He simply collapsed to his knees and accepted the waterskin given to him. "Thanks," he said with a heavy breath. He brought the skin to his lips and took a slow sip, letting the water slowly soften his lips and trickle down his hot throat. While the water was warm, the feeling was fantastic as it brought moisture to the actual cracks and perceived cracks in Remy's skin.

As he drank, others came up to the camp. He found it odd that so many people were randomly passing through at this time, but didn't have the energy to really think much of it beyond his initial digestion. He simply handed the waterskin off the elf that had arrived and collapsed on his butt in the sand. Finally, the idea of atleast asking where they were heading came to his mind and seemed suitable enough to ask...

"Where exactly are we going sir, err... Horo?"

[S'eng Iskossasda]

A mottled, light brown Saurid rushed over the sand, eating up miles with his steady stride. He wore nothing except a belt: on one side a canteen hung, on the other side a dagger. S'eng was a Sss'rak'kk, a Dune Winder, the Desert Saurid. He had been born and bred in Arakmat's deserts before his tribe was brutally slaughtered by their rivals. S'eng and his family feld to Imperia where his wife and hatchlings died horribly in the meteor strike.

He spied a camel in midstride, and he swerved his path towards the camp. Before long he approached the perimeter and slowed down. Panting a little he strode to where the others were gathered. He stood over six feet tall, his broad head had numerous small ridges and spikes on it. The older he would get, the bigger they would grow. For now the tallest spike only stood only a couple inches, indentifying him as a young adult male.

He nodded to everyone in recognition before addressing Horo.

"Ssserale, elder one, I am Sss'eng."

[Elan]

Elan grabbed the waterskin, not even bothering to wipe the gnome's spittle from the mouthpiece. The liquid was warm, but flowed like honey down his throat. When the last drop of water had left the skin, Elan dropped to the sands with a sigh.

"Apologies for the waterskin," the elf said, looking up at Horo. "I am Elan. It is good to meet friendly faces, especially out here." And especially if they have water. He nodded at QM, the dorin who'd forgotten his birthname. If he was Horo, he'd be leery of a quartermaster who didn't remember his own name. But he kept his mouth shut. These people had offered him their water, and Elan was an elf who minded his courtesies.

Two others had joined the small group while he'd been drinking, a pair stranger than even the elderly Horo and the forgetful QM. One was a Saurid, hulking and scaled like the one he'd seen in Medonia. Perhaps they were even relatives. Elan didn't know, and frankly he didn't care. The other, an elf, stood half naked and barefoot. He looked to be Syl'rosyan as well, yet where Elan sweated and panted, this one stood and smiled as though the heat didn't bother him one whit.

Elan looked away, gritting his teeth. It didn't seem quite fair that the gods had graced one elf with the composure and of all elvenkind, yet denied another the same favours. Though tired, the elf climbed to his feet. It simply would not do to look the fool in front of another elf. "Yes...where are you headed?" the elf asked Horo, looking beyond him at the assortment of wagons.

[Palacrisis D Jones]

The Saurid wandered into the camp and with the politeness of his race greeted Horo with the respect that was the due of the elderly man . Horo touched lips and forehead and with equal gravitas greeted the Dune Winder

Greetings S’eng, it is pleasure to meet you, I felt you in my dreams and I knew that one of your noble race would join us in our quest .We have need of your strength and knowledge of the desert will you join us?

QM had found what he was looking for and produced a variety of head gear from the panniers on the camel. He wandered across to face Eir'helm and growled ok mate if you insist on going nekkid that’s ok with me but I be blowed if yer brains are going to seep out yer ear’oles ‘cause yer ain’t got a hat
Now put that bugga on or don’t, I gives yer fair warning, suit yerself if yer ignores me I could not care less .

Horo having greeted the party then invited them to stay and rest a while whilst busying himself cooking a communal meal of rice and curried goat , served upon a highly polished one meter sized burnished platter. The two handles allowed the huge metal plate to be carried and if one slipped a stick or spear through the handles it could serve as a highly polished shield.

After the meal was finished Horo spoke to the company

”Gentlemen we are not here to ferry carpets to Silrosia that was a simple ruse. No we are going to look for Orc’s they have been very active lately travelling vast distances between Ire in the deep south to Paxia. They must have travelled through the desert to reach so far north so we are going to find their line of march. Now I do not want to make contact with them just observe their movements and report back to the authorities. Your skills will be vital to this operation and each of you brings special attributes to this party. You have been drawn here by instinct and invitation some of you I have seen in my dreams others not but will you come with me and QM.”

“There are many things wrong at the moment a sun disappears; the heavens disgorge wrath and rock and the orcs start to move, the gods seem displeased with us or is there another malevolent agency behind all this trouble? Perhaps our observations can cast some more light on that question.

QM stomped over and grunted OK boys any of you who are coming with us you can choose weapons and equipment from the store camels .There are suitable clothing for those who need it , he sniffed at Eir’helm and the Saurid who did not need clothing as such. Plus you need to get acquainted with your camels , Remy you ain’t big enough fer a camel so you can ride with Horo or me.

He stuffed a pipe into his mouth and glowered but secretly he was pleased despite the heat dust and sand …..it was good to get back into the saddle again .

[Remy]

"Hunt good fer nothin' orcs?!" Remy shouted out, his gnomish accent coming through in full force. He wasn't happy with this news one tiny bit. He had come under the false pretenses of treasure hunting, not big ugly, hairy orc hunting. This he was not interested in at all...what interesting bobble could he find on an orc? None at all he was sure. "Lies, all of it, lies!" he yelled out as he raised himself to his feet.

"First we're led here under false excuses, then you tell us we're going to be trying to find a trail that orcs used, in the middle of the bloody dessert?! A trail, in the sand?" His face was turning beat red as he spoke, such anger exploding from his abdomen. "How do we know that's even the truth?! How?! I came out here to find treasures and trinkets, do the orcs have these things? I doubt it!"

Oh he was steaming. This child of the rock, not usually quick to anger, was exploding like a volcano. Had this elder dreamt of him or was Remy simply on the wrong caravan to nowhere. Three little letters could easily quell his anger, three letters to affirm that these orcs made indeed have trinkets of interest. Anything less and he'd just continue to scream.

[Eir'helm Mithania]

An odd lot, different breeds and most of them seemed rather useless. There was another elf, one who seemed to sweat a lot, but the bard just smiled at the Silrosian. He stood there, a light sheen running over his hide as the sun came down. Eir’helm wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, there was some sort of animal making eyes at him, disturbing looks.

He was starting to wonder if the animal was into elven boys. It was a disturbing thought, but then as some extra clothes were offered it seemed preferable to a dorin eyeing him.

“Thank you” he said, eyeing the bags, as another little idea crosses his half baked mind.

“Where are we going anyw... oh, right, orcs...” Well, that couldn’t have been that hard. With a little shrug, he went to dressing himself properly, not for need to escape the sun, but to escape QM’s gaze.

It was just that with mounting a camel that he pulled his drum up to his lap. There was a few beats that followed, that and a question, one he thought was rather wise.

“Why the feth do we care about Orcs? Can’t we go travel to the temple beyond the great mountains, go enslave some savages, or try to loot one of the pyramids?”

[Palacrisis D Jones]

Horo gave the gnome a look that said "give me strength" but said nothing as remy threw a hissy fit. However the enourmous dorin was not quite as patient he moved with a speed that would thought to be impossible in one as large as he. An enormous fist appeared in front of the gnome and in a voice that had been a wonder even to the hardened desert fighters of the Arkamatian Military,

Squirt button it ,you are free to go or free to stay, going means out there in the desert alone, staying means you're alive a few more candlemarks now shut up and consider your options.

QM was right it would not take much to kill a gnome a pasing scorpion a mendicant snake or a spider with nippers to feed. the desert was dangerous when you are only 2'.6"tall.

Horo held up a hand as dissension ran through the ranks "Please no more, the orcs are just the tool, they are too stupid to organise something like this there is ...must be something more behind this. Come with us and you will be rewarded that is my promise.
.

[Remy]

Remy didn't quite know what to say to the screaming canine in front of him, but he was hurt, quite so. His pride had been stabbed through the center with a spear of rudeness. He wasn't quite sure how he would recover from his verbal and unwarranted attack, but he knew it wouldn't be out there in the desert alone. His nose curled up and he pointed at the dorin with his index finger. "Don't you get me started GM, DM, QM, whatever your name is! I'd get along just fine! But since it seems that you and your lot don't think you can hack it without me, I suppose I'll come along and keep your hairy butt from gettin' killed!"

With that Remy's pride was once again in tact and he walked past the Dorin on his way to the store cart to see what he could get his hands on. He always enjoyed fiddling through junk, but doubted to see any in this caravan, so instead he'd atleast well equip himself and set his backpack in one of the carts to get the weight off his back. Within a short moment he had found a thin cloak that would shield him from the sun, a a small wooden buckler that would fit him like a small shield. He didn't bother with a weapon as he hoped they wouldn't come across anything he'd have to use it for, but the shield would come in handy against all the sand that kept blowing in. Besides, he had a pick at his waist just in case.

[S'eng Iskossasda]

S'eng bowed upon hearing Horos' greeting.

"Yessss, I would be honored to help." The Saurid responded. "All my knowledge issss at your disssspossssal." With that he wordlessly retreated, eyed the curry, and then ate it thankfully when offered. He nodded in silent agreement as Horos spelled out their intentions, and became irritated with the gnome's temper tantrum. The Saurid wondered if a good chomp would set the annoying gnome right, but let the Dorin handle the discipline for now. Instead of replying he walked to the pack camels and rummaged around for some gear. A couple minutes, satisfied with what he found, he emerged with a spear and a wooden shield.

S'eng gave an involuntary hiss when he heard Eirhelm vocalize his desire to "enslave the savages". As a Saurid, once slaves to the Xet for generations, such comments attracted little humor from the Dune Winder. His eyes narrowed as he walked by Eirhelm and the camel, but decided to let the comment pass instead of offering a retort. Both the elf and the gnome's concern with plunder made that lizard shake his head since material goods and coin mattered little to the Saurids.

"I do not need a camel," S'eng said simply to QM and Horos. "I prefer to walk. What route are we to be taking then? Sssshall I act assss a sssscout?"

[Elan]

The problem with non-elves, as Elan saw it, was that they were too loud. Neither age nor gender made a difference. And from the racket the gnome was putting up, height didn't matter either. If anything, the shortness just made him all the more strident and irritating. For once though, Elan said nothing, still sated and content from the meal. The emptiness in his stomach had vanished, replaced by a wonderful fullness that lifted his spirits and brought renewed vigor to his limbs.

So Elan just leaned against a rock, sipping at a cup of water and watching as the others exchanged jibes and threats. All this talk of orcs did not worry him one bit. The caravan he'd been traveling with had made no mention of the beasts. He himself had been walking the sands for the better part of two brightenings, and he hadn't seen even a hint of the brutes. In fact, this encampment was the first sign of civilization he'd come across in all that time. Most likely this trek would end in failure for Horo and QM, for which Elan felt slightly sad. They had shared their food with him and likely saved his life. The least he could do was travel with them on their foolish journey, for at least part of the way.

And he wasn't in any hurry to get to Imperia and Silrosia, anyway.

He waited until the gnome and the lizardman had found what they wanted from the pack animals, then walked over to scrounge whatever he could for himself. Elan rummaged for a second, then pulled out a cloak and shawl to shield himself from the suns, both of which he immediately donned. After a moment's hesitation also pulled out a a short-hafted spear, then proceeded to walk towards one of the free camels.