Before the half-elf could reply, Vlor overheard the child-like elfling question what these "fish" exactly were. The Orc had just as much of an idea as the girl...or woman. Both? Childlings were a little out of Vlor's current understanding. Beings who live and age but never grow or show the wear of time. Another thing to learn and try and grow accustomed to. Actually, he did remember something. Old tales and rumor that finally clicked in his mind.

"The elders of my clan once told children stories passed down generation after generation about things like these," Vlor replied back, keeping his tone low and calm but hinting the muse of realization. He found that he scared elven and human children easily. "Orcs have never had a name for them, until now it seems. They said that these 'fish' dug through The Lake's of Gods and long roads of water before The Sands stretched to the horizons. There were millions of them. Uncountable by man, elf, or Orc. Hopefully this store we are after will have big meaty ones for a true feast."

He turned from the elfling, looking past the one known as Niv and noticed what obviously was they're insect-man. The Tiefling woman had found him first, speaking generally of their future work and something known as "nachos". Vlor stepped to them, nodding to the woman and Anders.

"He known as Matthew Anders, I am Vlor Ral'gene," Vlor greeted, "The short wise one known as Blim has assigned you to our team of Dwellers to find supples and resources we can use to survive these damned sands. We are to ride back to the lost city of Nurenhaven and hopefully find a healthy supply of food for the tribe. Are you ready to join the hunt Anders?"

Naia had watched the exchanges between Nivaar and the orc and had seen the insect man up close from her hiding place in the shadows. She scoffed at the bug's strange appearance then quickly made her way back to her tent to gather the small amount of supplies she needed. Naia was never without her dagger, even in the camp, and most of the time she never needed much more than that, especially if Sonya was on her team. Naia wasn't a friend of Sonya but she respected the tiefling's skills and her willingness to follow orders. She chuckled at her own sarcasm and put her pack on her back. As Naia walked slowly to the meeting place, she nodded at a few people who recognized her and smiled evilly at a human who had picked a fight with her a few days previously and lost.

Finally and begrudgingly Naia stood before the group that had gathered and rolled her eyes at them. She nodded curtly at the orc who had been assigned to be her leader and said in an impatient voice:

"Are we going to the city or not?"

Vlor looked to Naia, a woman obviously unhappy. He could only guess that it was his ascension to leadership for this short time that brought this around. Vlor never understood the power hungry for life was too short for war, corruption, and hate. He understood that she was maybe one of the most respected Dwellers amongst the camps, but that didn't scare him. Vlor knew how to hunt. Was was his essence.

"Yes," Vlor replied back with a nod. He didn't want to antagonize her, for they both had to work together. It felt odd that he had to play nice for a change. Other beings made hunting a course sometimes. "We will be of need of one of those strange vessels that slide on the sand easily. What are they called? Boats? Maybe, but either way we'll need one. By foot we would be tired and worn by the sands and our hunt would only last for so long."

Vlor searched around by sight, pinpointing the one known as Judas' tent a little bit away. If he didn't have "boats", then he'd probably know where to get one. As Quartermaster of the Dwellers, Judas must either keep one of these transports in stock or know of someone willing to loan one. It would be a simple task so that the party could move towards the city. Vlor was already prepared with his blunderbuss strapped to his back and his war-axe clipped against his waist. Orcs always kept their weapons with them, for danger was a constant in their world.

After getting all of his gear ready he hopped from sand formation to sand formation, his feet, grasping the rocks like magic. He loved to do this back at the old camps, but others, he didn't have the chance. He then stood upon the rock ledge, listening to the conversation, unnoticed. He put one hand on his hat, to steady it, as he jumped from the ledge he was on, to the sand below with a soft thud.

While the Insect-Man was not, the same, he was unique, like many of the others here. As Samuel was fully against racism, he had no negative feeling for him, and greeted him like he would, any other.

"Hello, my name is Samuel, Samuel Darwin. Pleasure to have you on the team." He gave a brief handshake to the man, and went back to talking.

"Yes, boats would be good. Judas should have some stocked. As for the main reason for this mission, fish, the city was famous for its trade, Pre-Calamity. So, the fish should be by the docks, which is on the complete other side of town, in the Port Storages. So, Nai- Oh, sorry Vlor, it's a habit."

He had realized he was giving orders, like he usually did, when it should be Vlor. He was so used to it, but the change of role was so confusing. Had Blim lost confidence in Samuel. He would surely talk to him about it after the mission.

Vlor marched the party down to Judas' tent, an open area of desert property either avoided out of respect by civilians and peacekeepers alike or bought out by the Quartermaster himself. The Orc wasn't sure about this team, noting that many of the people he was suppose to lead were either displeased by Blim's decision or already ingrained that they should be the leaders. When it came down to a fight, a hunting party should b able to communicate and trust each other like family. This mismatch of freaks and oddballs was not even close to that.

This mission would not only be a test of Vlor's worth, but if they can manage to adapt and work in new situations it seemed. There was a reason why Blim choose the Orc over the already venerated Naia and Samuel. He was testing Vlor just as much at these two. The idea of it made the Orc discouraged in a way, for tasks like there were to serious to throw a rouge in just to see how things go.

AS they reached Judas' tent, an odd scent resonated from the large cloth structure. It smelt of the desert tobaccos Clan Elders would smoke in meetings, an oddly sweet but cold smell. The group entered the tent, greeted by the stench at full force. Vlor tried to ignore it, for it wasn't the worse thing he's ever smelt.

As you enter the tent you see a Goblin of middle age with his feet on the counter, leaning back on a chair and puffing a long pipe. As he sees you entering he loses his balance and falls backwards, landing with a loud crash. The goblin pops up from under the counter and says in a raspy voice, "I wasn't smoking! I swear! You're all just seeing things. I mean... we clearly got a no-smoke policy in this tent!" He takes a closer look and then recognizes the group. "Oh... Oh! Oh! It's the Dweller group. Why didn't you say so sooner."

He get's up in full length, maybe being a little taller then Blim. He walks towards the group and leans on Vlor his leg. "I guess you guys want supplies before heading off to that city, right? You'll also need a Sand Skitter I suppose. Well, that's what I'm here for!" Judas runs towards the counter and jumps over it, landing in some stuff behind it with another loud crash. He then again pops back up with some dirty sheets in his one hand, and a feather in his other. "Right, I suppose you guys need the basic materials like water, sleeping bags, rations, climbing gear, sand filters and of course a canister of whale oil each. Well, you see here is the problem... Blim has told me not the speak about it... but..." He leans forward, beckoning any of you closer, "we're not doing so well." He leans back again and shakes his head. "I don't even have ink anymore!" Judas holds up the sheets of paper, revealing some scribbled lines and numbers all in red. "Food is running low. Water is decent, mainly because people are holding back... Whale oil is nearly depleted." The goblin let's out a long sigh.

"Bah..." He looks at Sonya in the back, starting at her face then lowering to her guns. "I'm taking the main thing that needs refilling is your ammunition. I can tinker some together with the Oil we have left, but I also had a group that was experimenting with some sort of food preservation device coming here earlier. They requested some Whale Oil too. Now... they don't know that it's the last of it, so I'm giving you guys the choice here. Ammunition to defend yourself, or giving it those Dwarves?" He quickly scribbles something down after pricking the feather into a small open wound on his hand. "Also, a Sand Skitter is ready to be taken. They were refilled on Oil before our supplies went dry. Just give this to the 'harbormaster'." The goblin says the last word almost jokingly. He then hands Vlor a piece of paper with red ink, dictating that the holder of this sheet is allowed use of a Sand Skitter of choice.

"I'll order my lackeys to take the supplies to the harbor, just after you filled in this form here. Sorry, no ink... And I'm not letting you borrow mine." He shields his hand after shoving a sheet over the counter towards the Orc. "If there is anything specific you require, let me know and I'll see if we have it available for Dwellers." And with that statement he picks up his pipe and starts puffing it again, looking annoyed that it has gone out.

"Vlor, we need the oil, much more than those Dwarves. We don't need a food preservation device if we can get some from the cold storage. I can go get it when we're there."

Running low on supplies wasn't good at all. Samuel remembered the first time it happened. The camp was tearing itself apart. Stealing from others to get what they needed. They needed the ammunition, so they could get the supplies that everyone needed. They couldn't run into that chaos again.

"If I had Sonya's help it would be much faster. Vlor we need this."

Sonya shook her head, pushing her way past Samuel she addressed the Goblin, "Maybe, just maybe, you all might've thought to ask me if I had anything that could help with that? All those parts I've been collecting and hauling around with no help? They were for a similar 'food preservation device' that was almost complete before the Calamity. I have the blueprints, all I needed was some help with assembly and test runs and you'd already have your food preservation device. But no, you and the entire camp decided to ignore me instead, except when I was out risking my neck to help keep all of you fed and supplied, then you were perfectly happy to speak to me as you all told me what to do."

She spat on the ground next to her feet, "In fact, today's the first time somebody voluntarily came up to me and offered to help carrying and packing spare parts for that magical thing you call a food preservation device. So no, I'm taking the ammunition. Tell the dwarves I'd be happy to help them finish their own project, or better yet use schematics from the old world, once we've returned with food and whale oil thanks to not dying because we luckily had enough ammunition."

"No," Vlor interrupted authoritively, "we will take half of what you can provide. I know not of the dwarves you speak of, but to leave them with nothing is unnessicary. Half should be enough for both teams if we ration."

What Sonya wanted to do was raught from angry and emotional repression. Vlor knew anger all too well, but to allow suffering upon other was not his wish. He would not allow greed to tempt his party. The Orc looked down to the goblin and took the the slip of paper from his desk and nodded.

"Get whatever you all need from here," Vlor told the team. "I will be at the shipyard collecting out vessel."

The goblin is taken aback by the sudden outburst. He shakes his head and grins at you. "Woah there love. No need to be mad at me. Have I ever not been nice to you? How could I ignore such a beauty after all." He let's out a raspy chuckle and a cough. "But I've understood that big guy here," he points at Vlor ", is in charge. So half it is. Hm... That's going to be a tight one. I'll see what I can do for you. But don't expect a miracle. I'll start crafting it immediately. It'll be on the Sand Skitter when you get there. I'll just tell the dwarves that their little pet project gets a little of Whale Oil to start with. I'll also point them to you, Sonya. They seemed like reasonable fellows." He shrugs and turns around as to walk away, but suddenly turns to Sonya "Eeeh... Did you catch the name of that dwarf by any chance?"

Grumbling, Sonya waved dismissively, "He's not in charge of me, but whatever, just so long as I'm not stuck with five shots and nothing more." She was about to leave, her mind turning to what those dwarves might've devised. Maybe they had some schematics too, she'd have to compare notes with them and find out.

As Judas spoke to her, she turned back to him, "Yeah, it was... Burdar or something? He seemed nice enough, why do you ask?" Her eyebrows knit themselves into a concerned frown as she watched the goblin.

Judas taps his fingers together. He seems deep in thought. When he speaks again, it is with a certain caution in his voice. "Burdar... Hm... I recognize that name. Used to be part of the Stonewall Clan. Notorious for raiding other tribes. Whatever the reason was for his exile, it can't be good. Hm, now that I think of it... The Stonewall Clan have never exiled someone."

Judas turns around and disappears behind two drapes. You can hear he's rummaging through some junk in the back before he appears once more. "Here is an old account of a tribe that was raided by the Stonewalls. I'd read through it if I were you and then head back to your stuff as soon as possible." He puts a sheet of paper on the bar and tilts his head as he watches Sonya. "I'd never trust a Stonewall."

Sonya's eyebrows knit themselves into a frown, "I'll... meet you all at the Skitter, I need to check on something." She rushed from the tent, clutching the paper to her side as she sprinted back to her own tent. At least I didn't give him the keys or anything, so he won't be able to get into the schematics and parts, those are old world masterwork locks. Of course, my clothes aren't locked...

She ran faster.

Her tent came into view, sitting in a nice spot in the shade. Nothing looked amiss from here, but she couldn't be sure. Picking up the pace even faster, the tent suddenly seemed to jump right in front of her and she frantically scrambled to stop herself, slipping on the sand and falling onto her buttocks. Scrambling to her feet, she rushed into the tent and stopped dead in her tracks.

"What... are you... doing?" She demanded, right eye twitching as the dwarf hastily dropped a... certain lacy article of clothing she'd rather nobody know about.

Burdar didn't answer, and she stepped forward, "Judas tells me he thinks you're from the Stonewall clan, and there are some interesting things I heard about them. Care to explain what you were doing with my clothes?"

The dwarf looked incredulous, "I was curious." he huffed, "And where would you get such a ridiculous notion as my being Stonewall? Bloodthirsty savages the lot of them."

Sonya looked around the rest of the tent, noting how half of her wardrobe seemed to be scattered about. "More than a bit curious I'd say." She muttered darkly, glaring at him. "I can't really stop you from coming in here, since I can't exactly lock a tent, but make no mistake if any of my things have been touched -and I will know if they are, there will be hell to pay." She grumbled, picking up the scattered clothing and shoving it in the chest it had been taken from, locking it with a key she then pocketed. Dragging Burdar out, off to the Sand Skitter, grumbling to herself, glaring daggers back at the Dwarf.

I really can't trust anybody, can I?

Sonya muttered obscenities under her breath as she trudged through the sand to their transportation to Nurenhaven. This day was awful, absolutely awful, as usual ignored and then given a small moment of false hope that there was someone who wasn't an ass- only for that to be dashed, and quite profoundly too. The hell was he doing with my clothing? Perverted bastard. I might just have to go back and smack him upside the head. For a brief moment she actually considered doing so as well, it'd be quite satisfying. But she sighed, and soldiered on, eyes open for the sand skitter that awaited her to take her to the magical city of deep frozen fish.

Of course, whether or not she'd make it out alive was as usual, a question that haunted her mind. She probably had more experience in the cities of the old world than the rest of the part combined, if only because she'd grown up in them and then spent a hundred and forty years give or take a few scavenging in them for survival. She'd become quite adept at finding the safe places and avoiding the dangerous ones, seeking out the old factories and warehouses and avoiding the death traps that previously benign parts of the cities became.

She neared the sand skitter, raising an eyebrow as she realized none of the rest of her party had arrived in it. She clambered into the vehicle, noting with pleasure the stash of ammunition -thankfully more than enough to stay alive, no thanks to the orc though, she'd take what she damn well pleased, and help those dwarves with old world schematics and a nearly complete model when she returned- as well as crates and other means of transporting various thing. All in all the skitter seemed well prepared for the journey, the only thing it was missing was a crew.

Where are they...? They should be here by now, I beat them to it and I had to take a detour and everything.

Samuel kicked up sand as he walked through the camp, giving nods to people as he walked by. The Sand Skitter shouldn't be to far now, as he was nearing the edge of the camp.

The sun was beating down upon him, and thirst was beginning to overcome him. His throat was parched, and he was starting to feel groggy. He opened his water pouch, to find that it was empty. "Shit. I'll have to go back to my tent to refil."

Cutting through the camp he made his way to his tent. Refilling his three water pouches from his private supply. Finally taking a sip of the cool liquid, he felt refreshed as it trickled down his throat, rejuvenating him, and getting him ready for the challenge ahead.

When he got to the Sand Skitter, he noticed that only Sonya was there. "Where is everyone?"

Sonya started at Samuel's arrival, breaking from her seventeenth recounting of all her ammunition -arrows included- and looking up at the man. "I'm not sure, to be honest. I got here after dealing with a minor... situation, and nobody else seems to think it'd be a good idea to have showed up. I've just been counting various things, mainly. If anything I've had enough time to go and see those dwarves and get an idea of what they're planning, which at this point I might just go regardless."

She shrugged, standing up and stretching as she hopped down from the sand skitter, "I guess this is why it's a good thing to keep supplies pre-packed. Makes things a lot easier." Glancing at Samuel's water pouches she continued, "At this rate we're going to use all our water before we've even started off, since we're just sitting in the sun. I'm going to go and find some shade, you're welcome to join me."

The harbor was nothing more then one tent and what seemed like three boats. On a closer inspection the boats were outfitted with two long runners which made it able to glide over the sand. It also had a small sail and at the back a special motor that was designed to propel the Skitter forward in the sand. Of course this motor ran on Whale Oil. It was the most (and only) used vehicle by Dwellers, as it made for a fast transport across the sand. Sonya had checked all the supplies. Sleeping bags, rucksacks filled with basic survival gear, some food rations, two boxes of universal ammo and three small Whale Oil containers. All was there! Judas had kept his word.

Vlor arrived shorty after and apologized for running late. He had some unfinished business that took priority apparently. The three wait a bit longer for the others, but after nearly another hour of waiting, and the sun slowly setting, the group decides to set out. Who knew what happened to the others? Maybe they were dragged into one of the many tents and stabbed to a bleeding pulp? It was all possible. The three get in the boat, check the motor and Samual starts the engine, which comes alive with a loud roar. The Sand Skitter flies away over the sand, the 'harbormaster' waving you a goodbye.

The city of Nurenhaven was about a two hour ride with the Sand Skitter. With not much to do on a small ship like this, the group quickly went to doing their own things. Vlor kept on lookout, Sonya quickly took out a small device which she started tinkering on and Samual simply kept the Skitter on track. Not a lot of obstacles in a desert, but better safe then sorry. The trip was rather uneventful. Apart from a couple of fins piercing the surface of the sand, there were no other distractions and it didn't take long before the remains of the city of Nurenhaven could be spotted on the horizon, bathing in the light of the now upcoming moon.

The city didn't look like much. 141 years of sand does that to something. Some of the higher buildings were sticking out of the sand and seemed to be intact, but the lower buildings were mostly covered or destroyed by the sand. While Nurenhaven used to be a lake city, there was no trace of what used to be the lake. It appears that the sand had hit the city during the Festival of Wings. A human holiday, praising the Goddess of the Air. Little stands could be seen sticking out of the sand here and there and, what used to be, the main street led to a pole sticking out of the sand. On that pole a flag... Torn and bleached by the elements. No one hold anymore claim on this town.

The group had to abandon the Sand Skitter on the outskirts of the city. The runners were delicate things and could not withstand the impact of hitting some loose debris. Too risky driving this thing into the city. It was already nearing midnight when the group finally unloaded everything from their Skitter, so there wasn't a whole lot visible. What could be seen where three small houses on their left, half covered in sand and not directly accessible. Luckily, nowadays people rarely used the doors. On their right was just a big sand pile. Probably covering some other houses. They could simply loot the smaller houses, but the real deals were in the city itself. For that, they just had to go straight on.

In the grand scheme of things, being tied up head to toe, staked to the ground, locked in a cage, and muzzled wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to Oryx today. She was still alive and she had bitten three fingers off the squat one who tried to muzzle her, so yeah...could be worse. Granted, the lacerations and sprains she could live without but eh, you roll with the punches.

"That sandy bitch bit off my damn fingers Duwain! Why won't you let me kill it!" screamed the aforementioned squat thing at one could only assume was its superior, a larger squat with almost no facial hair to speak of. Which was odd quite frankly, she'd never seen one without it. Not that she truly minded, it always took forever to digest and tasted like very bad grease.

The alpha was smart, dastardly so. It was his idea to use the chains, real quality type too, to keep her in bondage and from what little he spoke of it was apparent he was saving her for something...lucrative. It had vermin written all over it and Oryx would be much more vocal of her predicament if she wasn't trying to force bile up to her secondary mouth. The chains were iron, but leather would burn in no time. From there she would improvise.