It was a warm day, as most of the days in the desert. Luckily the camp of the Outcasts had been set up in the shadow of a stone arch, which gave the nomads some much needed coolness. Since the nomads just arrived today, everyone was busy setting up their tents, machines and other things. While this spot wasn't close to an oasis, it lay on a short riding distance from the ruins of a larger city. According to the scouts, the city may have belonged to humans, which meant possible lost technologies, or maybe some barrels of untouched whale oil. But... being so close to the city, also meant the presence of monsters, which made their nests in the now in sand covered cities. Either way, the reward outweighs the risk, and this would be the Outcasts their new temporary home.

As you start unpacking your stuff, you hear the voice of a child calling your name. "Tobias! Tobias!" You recognize the child. It is Kairel, an elven boy, not 9 'winters' old. He was the first to greet you way back when you joined the Outcasts, he has been sticking around the way older elf Nivaar ever since. Whether Nivaar Tobias Swann liked it... Who knew? "Have you seen that large city we passed on the way here? I bet you're going there! Right? You are going to scavenge that place, and come back with lots of awesome For-Sand* stuff! Will you bring me something nice?" The elven child looks up to you with large glimmering eyes, hopeful and filled with youth.

You wake up from a dream. Something has awoken you. After a while, you realize it's just the human doctor, Mikel Trindegast, and you're just in the medical tent. He turns to you and smiles. "I see you've woken up once again Cameo. It would seem your breathing apparatus is still functioning as should be, whether it will continue to do so... That's not my expertise. It's hard to keep things sterile with this condition of living." It was normal, that when you settled down in a new place, you'd visit the doctor for a check up. It's been a while since you joined the Outcasts, but your scares are still clearly visible. Only the mental scares are hidden away deep inside you.

You walk... well... shuffle through the camp, your hands filled with unfinished machines and other bits and bops. The people know you as Sonya Gear-Head, but that was all the people were willing to know. Your name, and that you were a Tiefling. Although everyone was accepted in the Outcasts, old grudges were hard to overcome. And thus they left you to your struggles, all, but one. "Oi! Lad! Ya' lost something! Don't know whether it's important to ya', but I'm betting ya' want it back." As you turn around, you see an older dwarf holding up one of your many mechanical things. "Need some help with unloading?" This was the first time anyone actually offered their help freely surprisingly enough.

Sitting down for a moment, you finally have the time to take in the landscape and reflect upon your thoughts. Living on the edge of the small make-up village was dangerous, but if someone could live there, it was Vlor Ral'gene and the other orcs. But your moment of peace is short lived as sharp pain in your head brings you to attention. A rock was thrown... As you look around, you spot a Low Orc chuckle at you. You recognize this orc... You've had run ins with him in the past and it was clear he hated you for some reason. One would go as far as to call it a rivalry.

As a Drow, you were most comfortable in the thickest shadows. Luckily this spot wasn't taken yet, and you'd quickly claimed it for yourself. It is a bit isolated from the main bulk of the village, but maybe that is for the best. Nothing better then silence after all. You kick around in the sand somewhat, until your feet connects to something solid...

Samual Darwin was your name and you, as many others preferred to live on solid rock instead of the shifting sands. So you and some others had found some ledges in the small rocky hills the village was settled next to, and were setting up camp. Another human waves at you from another ledge and holds up what seems to be a bottle of beer. "Joining us later for a round of cards? If of course you're not busy with Dweller stuff that is."

You're rather new in the Outcasts, and people eye you with suspicion. Apparently the people weren't really familiar with Insect-man. A halfling walks up to you and clearly blocks your path. He grins at you with malcontent. "I don't like you bug-boy. You're strange, and I don't like that." A Peacekeeper** spots the scene and quickly shoves the halfling away, scolding him while giving you a quick nod as form of apology. It was probably best you quickly move on.

It was usual, that after the village had settled, the Dwellers would meet with Blim, a gnome and fervent scholar. While the Outcasts had no clear hierarchy or even an official leader, Blim was possibly the closest to being one (even if he didn't like it). The gnome had the most knowledge about Pre-Calamity stuff, and he was usually the one coordinating the Dwellers to a potential hot-spot of supplies.
While the meeting usually happened the same night or day, Blim was also fine with postponing it by a day. He was well aware of how tiresome setting up camp could be after walking around all day in the hot sun. Usually it were individual meetings anyway. He was also well aware how hard it was to coordinate a large camp like this, and get everyone in one place. He had the time. He had just started in a very interesting book.

---

* For-Sand = The children way of saying Pre-Calamity
** Peackeeper = The only form of law this camp knows. They are mainly focused on making sure that the different races don't clash.

I raise my eyebrow at the strange object and glance around to make sure nobody is near my tent. I take a few quick drinks of water then start clearing away the sand around the strange object with my hands. I curse a little as the object proves to be more stuck in the sand than I had originally thought.

With grey fingers, Vlor Ral'gene probed his head for where the stone struck and found scarlet blood dripping casually from his skull. This only made the Low Orc laugh aloud, catching the attention of both High and Low Orcs. This made Vlor very, very angry. Not angry enough to kill, but a good amount of furious.

Vlor took two steps before the Low Orc fled like a scared human child. Low Orcs were know to flee whenever a more impressive force presented itself. For conquerors and warlords, they usually turned out to have louder barks then bites. At that moment Vlor swore to beat that fool the next time he saw him, but now was not the time to lament on Low bastards.

He made his way towards the inner core of the Outcasts' camp. It felt like something close to a city compared to the derelict towns he'd passed in his travels. The Outcasts knew how to move from place to place better then any he'd seen before. Many nomads wandered the sand wastes, but few did it like these people.

It also made up the strangest collection of life he'd ever seen. Vlor was not a hateful Orc by nature, but having so many different species of beings in one place felt concerning. Politics must of been hell for those who took the task. Vlor stayed with his people at the edge. Simple and reminiscent of home.

After a few minutes of wandering past tents and encampments, Vlor found himself at Blim's tent. They had not spoken often, but enough to create a work relationship. He stepped in, noting the large fancy tome he seemed to be reading faster then a man could run. He also saw one of the humans, a man named 'Samuel Darwin'. He paid Samuel little thought, for they were both probably there for the same reasons.

Vlor smacked a tight fist against his chest and gave the gnome a short nod, as tradition for the orcs when meeting with their cheiftain. Blim was probably the closest to thing the Outcast Orcs had.

"Blim, wise one," Vlor greeted, "our arrival here was swifter then the northern winds. The city onward looks ripe for a hunt, is it not?"

At the voice, Nivaar turned and grinned his goofy, lope-sided grin. "Kairel!" Scooping the child up, he lifted him onto his shoulders and then went back to work. A usual sight, as Nivaar was fond of children, "Aye, I saw it." He nodded, careful not to send Kairel tumbling over, "Lots of awesome For-Sand, eh? I hope so. I'm tired of cooking roots and dried meats. Would be nice to get some greens." He stood, keeping Kairel in place to check on his pack. He had to make sure he had everything he'd need for the trip. His pack consisted of tools, he had made, that would help in carefully harvesting water, plants, and animals for the return trip. Nivaar had learned this from his mother, who had been a skilled forager before the calamity. Some of the tools he had use to be hers.

After triple checking, Nivaar lifted Kairel off his shoulders and set him down. "I'll keep my eye open for something you might like, but you have to promise me something first." He held a hand out, lifting a pinkie. He chuckled at Kairel's confusion, "Link your pinkie with mine, we're making a Pinkie Swear."

"What's that?" The youth asked, despite linking his tiny finger with the larger one. "A Pinkie Swear is a swear you can never break. If you do, terrible things will happen."

"Like what?"

"I'll never talk to you again." Nivaar's words caused Kairel's eyes to widen as he shook his head rapidly, "I PROMISE, I PROMISE!"

"Good!" Nivaar laughed, "You have to promise me that you'll take care of everyone while I'm gone, ok? Make sure everyone eats." Kairel nodded, puffing up at the sudden responsibility. "I'll do it!"

The cot in the medical tent wasn't the most comfortable of bedding, but in a camp like this it was the closest thing they had to a real bed. Most other Outcasts made do with bedrolls. Infact Cameo would've prefered a bedroll, with some soft sand underneath it to that hellish construction of metal bars and rough hide. Her breathing was metallic and raggard for a moment until she gave the filter of her breathing mask a twist, allowing her to suck in a deep breath with a hiss. She adjusted the straps holding the mask on at the back of her neck and stood up run through her usual stretches. As she moved the joints of her right shoulder and left knee, they clicked softly. The procedure of implanting metal into flesh to bind together shattered bones was from the time before the Sand came and even working off of half remembered medical texts the doctor had done a passable job fixing her broken limbs. But they still bothered her from time to time.

Her stretches done, Cameo ran her hands over her face and felt the scarred and uneven surface of the skin on the right side of her face. Looking around she quickly found the leather cover she used to cover the ugly scars and missing eye and fastened it onto her head, leaving just the upper left side of her face uncovered. "Thanks for the check up, doctor." She said, her voice childlike and slightly muffled by the mask, as she re-donned her usual clothing. It was little more than a series of leather straps and belts, but the preserved her modesty and allowed her skin to breathe in the hot desert air. She didn't have to worry about sunburn either, as her species never seemed to turn red or brown, no matter how long they were exposed to the sun's rays.

Cameo stepped out of the medical tent, into the blazing sun and took a quick trip to her tent, to check on her things, before heading towards the spot where Blim had set up. The first time Cameo had walked through the Outcast camp, still bleary eyed and hobbled from her injuries, she'd found herself accosted by a swarm of children who wanted her to play with them, assuming from her appearance that she was an Elf child. Now the children knew better and afforded her the same deference they gave to other adults as she passed. Cameo reached Blim's tent and let herself in, her eyes quickly adjusting to the shade inside. "Samuel. Vlor." She greeted the other two Dwellers present before giving their leader a respectful nod. "Blim." She looked around the tent once again. "Niv isn't here yet?" She asked, just a little too eagerly.

Sonya was taken aback by the dwarf. Not necessarily him approaching her, she'd had plenty of people approach her. It was the fact that he had done so and was being friendly. She resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow in skepticism, and instead gratefully accepted the part. It was an important one, and she doubted that she'd have been able to find it in the sand.

"Thanks for that, only so much you can carry before things start to fall. You'd think we'd have sleds or something laying around for carrying stuff, wagons, something." She studied the dwarf, he didn't seem to have any deception in mind, and she was pretty sure she hadn't seen him before. Maybe he was new, that might explain it.

She shrugged internally. Regardless, she wasn't going to complain about somebody who didn't avoid her like she was going to burst into hellflame at any second. In fact, he was a dwarf, perhaps someone she could talk mechanical theory with. After all, most people here hadn't exactly had the chance to study at a pre-Calamity university and learn all the secrets held in the books of a university. For the most part they simply knew that the cylindrical bits moved and that the big empty thing held something in it. Her attempts to explain fuel pumps, torque, and air intakes were almost always futile. If this dwarf was like most dwarves she'd met pre-Calamity... Then again he hadn't recognized the part... She decided to risk it, worst case scenario he didn't understand anything.

"And actually, yes, I could definitely do with the help. Need to get these over to my tent and then go and see Blim. I can carry them there, though if anything else falls I'd definitely appreciate it if you'd pick those up. I've got a bit of extra water for the trouble, if you want."

The dwarf agreed, and she continued to shuffle across the sand. The sun glared down on her, burning pinpricks of heat peppering any exposed skin. Luckily she had shoes, or the sand would be torture as well. Even so, she felt the heat through her boots, and was thankful they kept the sand out.

With the dwarf's aid, sorting all her various parts was considerably faster than normal, though he seemed to need help figuring out what went where in her various toolboxes and spare parts boxes, which disappointed her. Still, she held out hope, and even if he didn't have advanced mechanical knowledge, he had still approached her willingly and amicably, which nobody else had before.

He definitely did want the extra water, though. She couldn't blame him really, the desert sun was evil. Forget demons, the sun was what people should've focused on exorcising before the Calamity, maybe it'd be less hot.

Shaking her head at the fanciful notions, she stood from the last box, having sorted the last few pieces into it. "Thanks a lot. I would've been at that an hour if you hadn't helped." She glanced outside, catching sight of Blim's tent. "Sorry to leave you, but I've got to go see Blim, since that's apparently what Dwellers do when the tribe changes locations. Feel free to make yourself at... well I guess it wouldn't be home, but comfortable. If books interest you there are some in that chest there. I'll be back in, I don't really know, hopefully not too long."

Leaving the Dwarf to his devices, she began walking to Blim's tent. It was considerably nicer than her own tent, but that wasn't a particularly high standard to hold it to. Regardless, it looked like something she wouldn't have been surprised to see a well off merchant camping in before the Calamity.

Pushing through the entrance she stood awkwardly by it as she always did. His book caught her eye. It seemed... familiar. She couldn't place it, but it did seem familiar. Maybe she'd glanced at it at a library at some point.

"So I'm here." She shifted uncomfortably, "That book looks familiar, what's it called?"

Having left Kairel to watch after his gaggle of supplies and tent, Nivaar made his way over to Blim's tent. As he did, he smiled and waved to folks he passed. Despite their group's make up, Nivaar never let their heritage base his opinions of them. He was the last person who should judge something like that. His mother had been a full-blooded elf, which had kept him safe as a child in their tribe, but once she had passed, they had drugged him and left him for dead. Luckily, he had been found by a second tribe...not the Outcasts...

Approaching the tent, Nivaar slipped inside, easily squeezing his thin frame between and behind Sonya and Cameo. He was taller, standing at 6' 1", so he stayed towards the back as to not be in anyone's way.

Cameo glanced towards the tentflap as Nivaar entered and her solitary eye lit up as she caught sight up him. Cameo knew about as little of Nivaar's past as anyone else, in fact she didn't know much about anyone's past, the Outcast camp was a place to leave your past behind after all, but she didn't need to know about his past to know that, standing at almost twice her height, he was bronze skinned Adonis.

Even as he stepped into a position towards the rear of the group she dropped back to stand next to him. "Hello Niv!" She greeted him, standing confidently. With her young appearance, it was easy to forget that she was five years older than him. "You're looking amazing, as usual, today." She looked him over with her one eye, as usual finding the sight very pleasing.

After some digging Naia finally unearthed a medallion, almost the size of her palm, covered in strange runes. She glanced around again to see if anybody is nearby before she stood up and examined it more closely. It appeared to be very old, older than anything she had ever seen, and the language was completely foreign to her. Naia raised an eyebrow and debated taking it to Blim before she settled on sticking it deep in her pocket as she begrudgingly walked towards Blim's tent.

As Naia walked she rolled her eyes at the usual stares from the new arrivals, as far as she knew she was the only Drow in the Outcasts, and maintained her signature silence. She raised her eyebrow at a few odd happenings but soon made it to Blim's tent. She sighed as she saw the shadows of other Dwellers in the tent already before she lifted the flap and walked inside.

She recognized a few of the Dwellers, Cameo and Nivaar as well as the orc whose name she could never remember, but the others were unknown. She chuckled quietly as she saw the massive book Blim was reading bas she slid her way to the front of the group and crossed her arms in front of the gnome.

"What have we got, Blim?"

The gnome looks up from his book. Blim looked like your average gnome: Splendid mustache (albeit a bit rough on the edges), a curly beard and some huge eyebrows. And due his age, all in white of course.

He slowly takes off his glasses and let's out a soft cough before starting. "Welcome all. I trust today's journey wasn't too troublesome." Blim closes the book and puts it on a chest to the left of him. He sits back in his chair and puts his fingertips together, looking up at the group of six. "To answer your question quickly, Sonya, the book is called 'The Seven Keystones'. But let's not digress. You have all seen the city we passed today. According to the intel our scouts gave us, and according to these, " the gnome gestures to a pile of notes ", we think it's the city of Nurenhaven. Apparently, this area used to be a huge lake. Nurenhaven was known for it's fisheries and sawmills. I believe this very chair was made from the wood they cut here." The gnome rubs the the tip of one of the arms tenderly. "And as you can see, after 141 years, the chair is still standing. Very strong pine indeed. While of course, the tribe has no use for comfy chairs or tables, I am more interested in the storage houses that contained the fish. With luck, they deep-freezed some of it. We could use that to feed the tribe for a while."

The gnome get's up from his chair and walks towards the group. While not being that impressive in terms of height, he always appeared very confident. He continues to walk around, making random gestures whilst talking. "Of course, anything else of value you find will be appreciated. But don't be greedy. We do not want to provoke other tribes by scavenging everything empty. We do not have the manpower to risk getting raided. We'll have to take the underdog role for a while. Anyway, usually we split you up in two groups, but Nurenhaven is... was a big city, and thus we'll be sending you as one large group." He walks towards Vlor and looks up to him. "You'll be in charge of this mission, Ral'gene. Do not disappoint me, of course Samual and Naia did a splendid job last time, but I like to change things up. Give someone else a change to prove himself. If someone disagrees with my choice, speak up now, or rather when I'm finished with talking." He walks back to his chair and climbs onto it. "One last thing. You have a potential new recruit. I have reviewed his skills and he seems useful as a Dweller. He goes by the name of Mathew Anders and he's an Insect-man. Take him along with you and make him proof his usefulness. I'll let you guys be the judge of his abilities."

The gnome picks his book back up, flips to the page he left on and starts to read whilst saying the last thing. "We stay here for two weeks, so get it done in that time. If you need some extra equipment, visit Quartermaster Judas. He's in his usual place. Now, begone. I have reading to do." And he waves the group away.

Naia pursed her lips and eyed the orc suspiciously. She let out a disdainful huff and turned to leave the tent, keeping an eye on her would-be leader. She knew that orcs and drow were on mostly the same playing field as far as fighting skill and raw power, but she also knew not to say anything in front of Blim or risk her rank as a Dweller. As Naia walked out of the tent she casually put her fingers in the pocket where she had put the medallion to make sure it was still there. She was the first one to leave so as usual, she hid in the shadows by the exit to watch who would leave next.

Blim's comment about an insect man echoed in her mind and Naia raised an eyebrow. She had heard about the sentient bug tribes that wandered the sands but she had never seen one in person. She made a mental note to keep a close eye on the recruit as well as watching the orc as the first person left the tent.

Samuel made a low nod, as a bow to Blim, then to Vlor, as he would be the leader of this task. As Samuel walked out of the tent, the sun blazed upon his exposed neck, so he put his hood on to cover it. Samuel then went to his tent to gather his equipment. On his wa back, many nodded to him, and thanked him for his work as a dweller, and he nodded in return. While Samuel was one of the more popular dwellers, he did not pride it. He just wanted to do his duty to the tribe, and he didn't care about anything else.

When he was at his tent, he took a backpack. In it contained three hide water pouches, a whale oil light, And his elkfur coat, in case the deep freeze storages got to cold. For weapons, he took his trusty Elvish War Bow, and his longsword. He replaced his sandals with boots, and wore more heavily armored clothing. As he walked out of his tent, he put his hat on, blocking out the sun.

He then found a spot in the shade, and sat, waiting for the others.

"It is an honor, small wise one," Vlor replied, "I will go find the Insect-man personally and tell him of our orders. As for the others, we will meet soon and ride to these 'Nurenhaven' ruins. I have never had such things as 'fish' before, so this will truely be a worthy hunt!"

Vlor took his leave, nodding to everyone in assembly and left the tent. He noticed that the Drow woman had taken her leave quickly, almost rushing away from the tent. Vlor could not remember her name until Blim spoke it aloud. Naia and him had maybe spoken once. Maybe. Vlor looked around, unable to find Naia dispite the woman's darker appearance and the blinding yellow and white sands.

"She must be off looking for the one known as Anders," Vlor muttered to himself. The Orc strolled away from Blim's tent, searching for their new companions. He knew nothing of the Insect-men, other then some damn gossip around the Orcish camps.

Looking down to the Elfling, Nivaar smiled and stuck his hands into his pockets, "Thank you, Cameo." He patted his belly and then returned his hand to his pocket, "Been feeling a bit heavy the pass few days though. Glad to see you're out of the medical tent." He rocked back on his heels as Blim started to speak. When he mentioned the fisheries, the half-elf perked up. Fish!? Frozen fish? On gods above he could make some nice meals with that. Make it last for weeks if he could get to it in time and preserve it. He started making mental notes on what he'd really need to bring now.

At the mention of their team leader, Nivaar removed his hands from his pockets to chase down the Orc. He of course gave Cameo a quick pat on the head and smile before leaving. Despite her being older, he found it hard to not be as protective of her as he was with the other children. Even though she could probably wipe the floor with his skinny ass.

Once catching up to the Orc, he called out, "Oy! Ral'gene!" His lope-sided grin was in place again, holding his hand in greeting. "It'll be nice working with ya, finally." Despite having offered to be a Dweller, Nivaar had had to first earn his place as one. This would be his first raid with the Outsiders.

Vlor looked at the half-elf before him and watched as he raised a hand to shake. Strange customs, even for Elven-folk. To raise a bare arm without a weapon in hand to another seemed utterly odd. His father had spoken of the strange ceremony once, a rumor brough back to the clan after a scout had watched human traders meet. To grab the other's hand back was a show of greeting and respect to the elves and men. Strange, strange custom. Vlor grabbed the half-elves hand, making sure not to crush it under his meaty worn grips.

"I heard the childling speak you as 'Niv', but I have heard of one who is skilled in the art of food," Vlor replied. "You fit the bill. I cannot say that making strange meals from rare things wholly impresses me, but if the small wise one sees you fit to journey with us, then it is good to fight alongside you. Are you one of blades, bows, or fists?"

Cameo listened to Blim's briefing, occasionally glancing at Nivaar from the corner of her eye. As they were dismissed Cameo remained for a few moments, seemingly deep in thought. Whatever was troubling her must have been big because even once she noticed everyone leaving and turned to follow them, her brow remained creased. Finally she couldn't help but voice her thought. "What's a fish?" She mused out loud as the group left Blim's tent.

Beneath that thought there were a dozen other little things to think about. When would they be leaving? How long would they be staying in the city? Should she bring camping gear? What about a weapon? Cameo could fight but she wasn't exactly a warrior. It was easier for her to avoid fights entirely.

"Fish..."

Sonya's mouth watered even as she said the word. It'd been over a century since she'd had fish, and only now did she realize just how much she missed it. "Oh... I think I'm going to have to find that cookbook..." The gnome's book forgotten, she walked from the tent mumbling about fish, cookbooks, and ammunition. If she wanted fish she would have to survive, and that was much harder to do without ammunition. She had plenty of arrows -they were more or less reusable after all- but her stock of ammunition for her guns was running low. She didn't know the exact number of shots remaining, but figured it couldn't hurt to check before starting out, and visit the quartermaster, at the very least.

It was then that she remembered the dwarf sitting in her tent.

She rushed back over to it, apologizing for her absence, and then explaining where she would be going for potentially the next few weeks. She paused for a moment, before posing a question, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to watch my tent? I usually have to take it on faith that nobody tampers with anything."

The dwarf shrugged nonchalantly, "If you can bring back more food so we don't starve, I'm more than happy to."

Well, there's that, then. So she could leave the tent without worrying -or at least she hoped- about the tribals messing with her things. Nodding gratefully to the dwarf, she set about collecting her things. Canteen, another canteen, another canteen, two water skins, and a large airtight bag to fill with any clean water she found. Her pistols slid into their holsters as smoothly as butter, their weight on her sides comforting. The large composite bow was unstrung and placed in a carrying sheath-bag-thing she had made several years prior, it was durable and held the weapon securely. Arrows in their quiver went onto her belt at 8 o'clock, and wrench slipped into its loop at 4 o'clock. She hefted a backpack that contained flints and scrap steel, kindling, a compass and several magnets stored as far away from each other as possible, various books detailing edible plants and which fauna were of the unfriendly persuasion, food, and empty flasks for storing whale oil.

One could never be too prepared, she had learned. The hard way.

Pushing her way through the tent flap and thanking the dwarf once more on her way out, she paused for a moment to orient herself. The quartermaster would be... that way. She set out in the direction of the quartermaster's tent, sticking to shade and shadow whenever possible so as to avoid the searing heat.

Up ahead she saw somebody she didn't recognize, and her eyebrow shot up as she glimpsed the antennae poking up from his head. Guess that's our insect man. She thought to herself, analyzing him, his posture, how he acted, and everything else she could as she walked up to him. Clearing her throat, she addressed him, "So, you're the insect-man Blim mentioned? Going frolicking with us in the dead cities of the old world? Pick the bones of a deceased civilization and walk in the footprints of a million souls lost to time and the sand. Stand in what was the shadow of a colossus, a living, breathing testament to the power of civilization but is now little more than a dried husk, picked over by two legged vultures, and not truly comprehend what was? Search their homes, businesses, and the the traces of their lives they unwittingly left in death for us to scavenge and barter? Scour their skeletons for anything useful to prolong our pitiful existence here on this mortal coil as we shuffle from place to place, ignorant of what was and what we have truly lost and know not to weep for?" She paused, but continued before he could reply, "For the record, if you ever find yourself transported back in time, go to Dune, ask for Brenda, and enjoy the best amberjack glazed in pepper sauce with a side of mashed potatoes this world ever had or will have to offer. But avoid the nachos."