Dunes
Traveling across the Belran Desert was a harsh prospect for even the most prepared caravan. Violent sandstorms that could spring up unpredictably, the shifting sands hiding unseen threats, violent marauders that prayed upon the unprepared, wandering magical entities lost in either forgotten purposes or madness, and the unrelenting heat above all else. The Karsha Clan had experienced it all before and still held great respect for the desert. They had traversed its sands for decades and knew it well, knowledge that came only from understanding and respect.
Always respect your route and it will guide you to your destination, Jasah thought as he scouted ahead.
Despite his lofty position, he was of more use in the field than on the back of a Setseke. His lieutenants were capable of the administration and logistics for the guard, he was always a warrior. Perhaps in other parts of the world and in other factions the strategy of leading at the front was suicidal, but for the Karsha Clan it was adequate. The use of mounts in such an open environment allowed him to see activity with ease and communications were handled by horn blows.
Satisfied that the path ahead was clear, he turned his horse around and trotted back to the main caravan. Upon returning, he rode up to the Yirmak carrying the kitchens of the Saltfire Bazaar. Riding in front was Illegra with a particularly miserable passenger behind her. The canopy on the Yirmaks' back offered good protection against the dry wind and the worst of the sun, but even in the shade Amber was suffering.
"I hate the desert so much," Amber groaned, not even bothering to wear her hat or duster as she sat in the shaded canopy.
"How fortunate Central Town is that many share that statement," Jasah said with a chuckle.
"Please just kill me and end my suffering."
"She's been like this all morning. Are you sure we couldn't place her on the back of the Setseke?" Illegra gave Jasah a questioning look.
"And force her to suffer being cramped with multiple families? Hardly a fair trade if you ask me," Jasah said.
"How caring of you," Amber groaned.
Strangely enough, Edward found himself right at home in the claustrophobic conditions of a compact workshop even if the heat was higher than what he was used to. Most would feel the need to find more room and yet he felt perfectly comfortable.
Dangerous heavy and sharp objects, limited room to move, the floor is moving about, mediocre lighting… Huh, the only thing missing is the sound of humming electronics and thousands of gallons of water threatening to crush you, he mused as he carefully stepped around a secured sheet press.
Even when he was technically "let go" from his improvised job he found work to do in the mill foundry. Ensuring the equipment was secure, inventory checks, helping with machinery maintenance at night, there was always the need for his skills with a wrench and screwdriver.
"Everything is good back here!" he called out after a final inspection.
"Great! Come back to the front and we'll check again in another hour," his employer responded.
Leaving the workshop, Edward made his way to the front and sat down on a net chair swing. He pulled out Three Klicks Deep and resumed reading. As the floor beneath him swayed, he began imagining himself as the protagonist of the story. The scene came to mind instantly: a grizzled, no nonsense investigator staring at a sonar screen onboard the Azimuth class submarine he had chartered, heading deeper into the depths to-
"Hey pal," his employer called.
"Yeah?" Edward asked, disappointed that his fantasy was interrupted.
"What's your plans after this? Everyone wants to reach Crossroad, the great city of culture and trade, but never really think it through. So, where do you go after this?"
"Find another job, walk to the next major city, rinse and repeat," Edward said bluntly.
"That's it?"
"That's it."
"Ha! I knew you Europans were merchants at heart. Never can sit still, always looking for a fresh market. Ha-ha!"
Well...submariners are like that at the least. But what does that make me then? A mercenary? Worry about one thing at a time Ed, Edward shrugged and resumed reading.
Amber hated the Belran Desert. There was no other way to describe her misery, she absolutely hated this miserable stretch of sand. If she never had to cross it again it would be too soon for her. She heard some of the clan members complain about the sand but for her it was the searing heat that broiled her alive. Even when she had changed to her lightest clothes and sat in the shadiest spot on this...animals back she was miserable.
"Safest way to Crossroad my fuzzy shedding ass and tail. I'd rather try the Great Lake than this the next time around," she muttered as the sun began to set for the night.
"'The Great Lake'? You mean the Frelana Lake?" Illegra asked.
"The what? I'm talking about the lake east of Central Town. Has an archipelago further in if my map is correct."
"I've heard stories from sailors about that lake. A hive of Necrophages managed to take over the archipelago thirty years ago, becoming the Scourge of the Frelana Sea in the process. Vile creatures, only a step above the Decayed."
Amber felt a sudden sense of shock overtake her weariness. Everyone knew about the Necrophages in Central Town and their butchery. Her father was a prime example of how savage they are. To hear that they caused such havoc made her second guess her disgruntled statement.
"Yeah… They really are monsters," she said quietly.
"Enough, let us set up the Bazaar for the night. We have several days of hard traveling before we reach Central Town," Illegra got from the saddle and began to loosen the straps securing the bazaar.
Three days later the clan was entering the heart of the Belran Desert. Whatever vegetation that grew in the desert had long been put behind the clan as the ground became nothing but sand and stone. For miles there was nothing but dunes of shifting sands.
"Quite the desolate place," Jasah commented as the clan set up camp for the night.
"I didn't notice," Amber grouched as she hammered a tent stake into the sand.
"I thought drifters were supposed to be some of the greatest warriors and survivalists in the world. Facing the perils of the wilderness alone chasing legends."
"I appreciate the hospitality from both you and your clan but please shut up Jasah."
Jasah chuckled as Amber pounded the tent stake. He found the young drifter to be quite interesting in the time he has come to know her. While most would see nothing more than a young adult complaining about the heat of the desert, he saw a powerful warrior waiting to find her potential. Sure, she was indeed a young adult complaining about the heat of the desert but even the greatest warriors can be hampered by terrain they are unfamiliar with. He doubted he could have survived the perils of Central Town as well as Amber has done.
"Captain!" a guard rode up from the edge of camp.
"What is it?" Jasah asked, expression growing serious.
"A small sandstorm is approaching. It'll pass right over us during the night and should be over by early dawn."
"Notify the clan and tell the guards to stay inside. I want everyone to come out of this alive."
"Does that mean I can get more water?" Amber asked as she sat on the ground.
"No," Jasah said sternly, "Now help secure the camp."
With that Jasah turned and left. He had to discuss this with the clan elders who no doubt were going to be displeased with the delay.
Amber fastened one last rope and gave out a sigh of relief. The camp had been established and just in time if the massive clouds nearby were any indication. It was a terrifyingly impressive sight to behold, seeing the massive storm draw closer like an avalanche crashing down a mountain side.
"Get caught in that and having my fur messed up would be the least of my problems," she said as she headed to the Bazaar for the night.
Unlike previous nights, no one was milling about the camp. Everyone was huddled together in tents along with the animals. It was far from silent, but the lack of ambient noise save for the increasing wind was noticeable. Everyone was anxious and the storm was growing closer.
Picking up her pace after glancing at the storm again, Amber quickly made her way to the Bazaar. The Bazaar was packed full, to the point where she had bumped into someone upon walking in.
"Oops, sorry about-" she started to apologize.
"It's fine," the person replied before turning around.
They both looked at each other and replied in unison, "You?!"
"What the hell are you doing here?" Amber asked.
"Getting food and sleeping here. Why do I keep running into you?" Edward asked back, surprise quickly morphing into his usual bluntness.
"I work here! You have everything you want on the giant bug!"
"It's called a Setseke," a nearby man commented, causing both the drifter and Europan to glare at him.
"What I do is none of your business," Edward said simply.
"When we happen to be stuck together like magnets then I'd say what you do is my business," Amber growled.
"You're overreacting."
"You're intolerable."
"You're both annoying and stuck with each other here. Now shut up and stop making things harder for everyone else," the man said as a crowd started to form around the bickering pair.
The two spared each other a wary glance and deliberately avoided each other for the rest of the evening. The howling wind outside might have been the reason they were in the same tent for the night, but they would have split ways at the earliest convenience if they had the choice.
At least they were separated this time and not sleeping as immediate neighbors.
Jasah scanned the horizon in the early morning. The storm had passed but there was still a strong wind blowing. To take down camp with the weather as it is now would only invite frustration. Sand blowing everywhere, tents being flung about, and half awake people trying to work under those conditions were not enticing activities. This would easily set the clan back half a day, maybe a full one if they were unlucky.
"Anything?" he asked the nearby scout who rode up.
"Clear as far as the eye could see. Crossing those dunes is going to be hell if this wind keeps up," the scout said.
"Nothing we haven't faced before. Get some rest, we'll be trying to make up for the lost time later."
The scout nodded and slowly rode back into camp. Jasah resumed scanning the horizon despite the report however. He felt as if he was being watched and not a higher being (assuming they were indeed watching the clan for whatever reason). He had long ago learned to trust his instincts, especially when something felt as odd as this. Just because the scout saw nothing and he currently was seeing nothing did not mean there was indeed nothing. The desert was a cruel, merciless place where lethal surprises could be hiding in plain sight.
Something's out there, he thought warily as he turned away from the distant sand dunes.
A couple of minutes later Jasah mounted his horse, still feeling anxious. While he trusted the scout, he wanted to make the observation himself. It was plain and simple paranoia but he would rather look the fool than disregard the feeling.
"Everything all right?" a woman asked as she stepped out of a tent.
"Yes, just checking something. Be ready to break camp once the wind dies down," Jasah gave a disarming smile before prodding his horse forward.
Trotting to the edge of the camp, he gave another glance out to the dunes. Satisfied that he saw nothing, he began to circle the camp, keeping his view out to the desert. He passed the sentries who called out to him, resulting in a short wave as he rode on. Upon completing the circle, he had seen nothing but still had the feeling the camp was being watched. Rubbing his eyes and blinking, he squinted to stare. The sun had not fully risen and he could see clearly.
"Where are you?" he asked as he turned his head slowly.
Upon gazing in the direction of the sunrise, he raised his hand to block the fiery orb from direct view. It was then that he saw something move. Bringing his hand down, the image disappeared. When he covered the sun again, the image came back into focus. He then quickly realized the object was moving fast and had others around it.
"What the hell?" he squinted hard at the moving objects, quickly realizing they were desert bandits, "Wait… Ah hell!"
He grabbed a horn and gave a loud,bellowing call. Hearing calls echoing from the camp, he spun his horse around and galloped towards the charging bandits. Guards that had been on their own mounts quickly poured out of the camp to join him while those on foot rushed to form a defensive line. Grabbing his bow and an arrow, Jasah rode hard and fast towards the bandits. Around him, other guards did the same.
"Make ready!" he called, drawing the bow along with the other guards.
As they charged to meet bandits, he could see they were preparing a volley of their own. His mind quickly analyzed the situation, they only had horses and no Yirmaks or Dervishes. There were only twenty of them and if luck was in the favor of the clan this skirmish could be over before it got out of control.
"Hold!" he ordered as they thundered across the sand, drawing closer until the clan guards were a hundred meters away, "Fire!"
The volley went sailing through the air. The guard riders quickly formed a scattered formation as the bandits let loose their own volley. The brief exchange scored a handful of bandits and a few unfortunate guards. Jasah would mourn their loss later, he still had a battle to win.
"Give them steel! For the clan!" he yelled as he put his bow away and drew out his palladian longspear.
The guards closed ranks as they drew their own melee weapons. The thunder of charging animals and battle cries filled the air as the two forces collided. Jasah managed to skewer a bandit off their horse who clung the longspear in desperation and shock. With a strong jerk, he flung the body off and into the sand where they undoubtedly died. Passing the bandits by, he pulled his horse to a stop and prepared to circle back.
It was only then that he realized he had made a terrible mistake. Black smoke rose from the camp while orange flames burned. The bandit riders were a diversion, the real force had attacked the camp while the prepared guards were distracted.
No..., his heart leaped into his throat.