The sun is reaching his zenith. It's warmth spreading across the land, heating up the sand, making the journey for the Outcasts even harder. The caravan slowly trudges through the sand, only going as fast as the slowest Yunik^*. Along the long line of people, the few sand skiffs^*2 the Outcasts possess, patrol the sides, making sure the vulnerable group isn't attacked.

Among the many various races and people are a couple of individuals called the Dwellers. These individuals were carefully picked to delve into the Old Cities and risk their lives to find stuff from the Old World so the Tribe could survive.

Somewhere at the back of the line, with some of the slower Yuniks and people, we find two of these Dwellers. An Aylvs and a human. People tend to ignore them in fear of the Aylvs' reputation. Even though the Outcasts all need to work together, old wounds bury deep. And thus these two are left to their own devices, not bothered and simply left alone with their own Yunik... which appears to be limping.

If one would move a bit forward, one would arrive at a small sea of green. Goblins and orcs tend to stick together, as they are the only ones who can stand each others smell. Among this merry bunch walks Fizz. He seems to be having a conversation with one of his 'mates'. "Awh come on man. You promised me to give me a part of the haul you brought back for that thing I did for you! Don't back out now!" he says with a high pitched voice, goblins are so well known for. An orc looks over his shoulder in confusion at the two, but can't be bothered too start a conversation with the tiny beings.

Leaving the sea of green behind, we move on to a hairy bunch. The dwarfs also like to tend to themselves. Although travelling is never easy for them with the large amounts of hair they need to carry along, it is always a festive mood in their ranks. What little booze they have disappears fast in their mouths. Unfortunately, the dwarf called Brimar the Bloodied has to miss this, as it was his task to man the east flank sand skiff today. He sees a dwarf raising a glass at him as the skiff roars past the group of dwarfs. His co-driver, an elf (some cruel joke from the tribe leaders probably), bumps your shoulder and yells to come above the roaring sound of the motor. "Stop getting distracted you fool! You need to keep your eyes open for dangers. If the caravan get's ambushed it's your fault for not paying attention!" Without waiting for an answer the elf turns his attention to the empty wastes at his side of the skiff, leaving the dwarf to his own thoughts.

At the head of the caravan the races begin to intertwine a bit more. Humans walking next to elves and halfings next to ratlings. One human in particular really likes to talk aloud. This time a brown haired woman was his target. Both were Dwellers, but were never send out together. Yet the male still couldn't stop boasting about his many accomplishments, obviously trying to impress the woman.

And so, the caravan slowly made it's way towards it's destination: A rock arch formation in the far distance. A small speck on the horizon. So far to go and the sand slowly starting to get warmer and warmer...

---

"Like pariahs...eh, pale-born?" Ahnciel grumbled, their voice coming slightly muffled from behind their mask. With crossed arms under their cloak and crossed legs propped up on the barding of the Yunik, he leaned back against Azark at the reigns. Frankly, the Aylv would have stuck a knife in his gut and made off with his supplies if they hadn't been confiscated. Likely bundled up in one of the packs on their injured mount, even getting to it would prove to be troublesome since he was convinced the leash he was on wasn't long enough to reach the ground. Hesitant to incur his keeper's wrath from an attempt to escape, possible strangulation was a less than ideal result of failure...but remaining essentially a prisoner wasn't much better, in his opinion.

It certainly didn't help how Ahnciel could occasionally catch a few looks out of the corner of his eye, especially from children who, against better instruction, often stared. It must have been like a mythical creature out of a fairy tale come to life...though probably not one many would hope to ever see. Ahnci turned his head to meet the eyes of one, ears in the pockets in the hood of the cloak stood up as he slowly reached to flip the bloodshot-lens into place. 'Getting a closer look', the child gasped before looking forward, getting the message.
Though it may have been good for morale to see the creature collared like an animal, it didn't detract much from his mere presence - a constant reminder of the horrors this desert had to offer.

"Iz say, keeper. Haf you ever tried veal?" Ahnciel darkly mused in his strange accent and manner of speech, still watching the child as a mitten'd ear flicked. Although he was merely talking as to break the silence, it likely wasn't a good idea for the Aylv to get bored...lest his mind wander. A hissing chuckle slipped through the mangled grin of the mask before he muttered, "I haf..."
The child couldn't help but try to sneak another glance, swiftly turning away as they noticed Ahnci's continued stare in an effort specifically to make them uneasy. "It stares at me..." he growled, ears folding back as he uncrossed his arms and legs to lean forward in the saddle which he held the edge of while tilting his head. Keenly interested for no exact reason other than for the sport of spooking kids, the depth of his twisted morals showed as he turned to look back at Azak.
"Loose me, if you vill? I vahnt its eyes~" Ahnci chirped, thumbing the magnified lens back up. "give zeh parasites someszink to look at, it vould..." he continued with a small laugh as he looked back, mostly joking as he imagined there was no way his keeper would let him mutilate children on a whim.

Wrought with boredom, Ahnci, at the very least still had his spite and a slurry of memories. He would probably be catching scorpions or lazing about in the family yurt trimming his antlers. Anything sounded better than riding the poor limping beast in tow with his sworn enemy. It was all ridiculous and demeaning.

Azak growled atop the clearly wounded beast he now rode, annoyed he had been given such a clearly handicapped beast to drive. Its lurching, bumping movements only served to aggravate him more, pulling hard at the reins to keep the tempermental beast moving. And he was sure this was because of his damn Aylv. It had seemed like a wonderful idea at the time, having such a dangerous pet would boost his prestige and have people fear him... of course the side effect was becoming a sort of pariah because of it, and being forced to ride some wounded beast and leered at by nosy children. That, and the Aylv seemed intent on conversation, the annoying little prick, "Indeed 'pet', it appears we are... no thanks to you.", he sneered, lightly tugging on the short leash.

There were positives though, not the least of which was the attractiveness of his pet, which the Aylv seemed to notice him admiring. He chuckled at the stares of children at him and his companion. They thought he was some sort of... myth made flesh, he had even heard a few of them comment on the man who imprisoned such a beast. As Ahnci began to torture one particularly nosey child Azak laughed and looked down at the boy, "Enough Ahnci, leave the boy alone. Besides, your not going anywhere while I'm around.", he sroked the Aylv's ears showing who was in power here.

He looked forward farther up the caravan and scowled at the others given precedence over him thanks to the Aylv, talking and riding uninjured beasts... he felt the weight of his cleaver on his hip, draggin at him, wanting to be wielded. He looked down at the Aylv who's ears he had been stroking and sneered, grabbing them and yanking him back, "Your the reason we're back here you know? You and your cannibalistic people!", he smiled beneath his metal mask, "But now you're my pet! Hahaha."

Enric was one in the front of caravan, alongside him was another dweller, some female who he hadn't been really gotten to know. From the way she dressed he could assume she was either some type of noble or monk. "You know back in before I settled here I'd probably rob you on sight just from the way you dress. Ya look like nobility or belong to a monastery. Luckily that part of my life is over. Too dangerous of a life people started working together more than they used too. Got smart too." Enric took a quick glance to see what her reaction would be before he continued. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. My name is Enric Yulf, ex-wanderer turned raider turned to dweller. At your service." At the end of service he gave a small bow.

Enric was quiet for a minute thinking. "You know what let me help pass the time. I got a good story to tell. Hell one day it'll become a ballad just you watch. So before I became a raider I wandered the sands. Never belonging to a village so I truly had no place to call home. I'd rest for a few days at towns or just move between hideouts. Well this one time I was moving from a old hideout to a new one. It was a normal day. Hot as hell, sandy and just a bit windy. I was making my way over a dune. I get to the top and notice smoke wafting through the air. I saw that it was coming from the next dune. I made my way over there and saw this group of slavers. 'Bout 5-6 of them. Apparently they'd been tracking me for several days now and had gotten ahead of me somehow. Ya know in that kind of situation most people would run. And I got to say the thought did cross my mind but I don't know I knew that I was better equipped and had better training then them. Plus I kinda wanted to see what would happen. So I did what anyone would do I walked right up to them asking for a cup of water. Oh the look on there faces. They were surprised i just strolled in." Enric paused for a minute incise she had a question or a statement.

"Okay continuation on, so after I asked for a cup of water they scrambled for their weapons. I'd already drew mine and was ready for them. Apparently they didn't know how to fight a person that dual wields. Lets just say they were didn't make it out. Found out later that they had just started and it was their first official job." Enric finished. He had a pleased look on his face as he reminisced about it. Snapping back into reality he did a 180 just to make sure everything was going good. He could see all the races and how they tended to stick with one another instead of intermingling. 'These people need to learn to intermingle more. Helps make cooperation easier.' He thought. Turning back around he continued on the journey to the next destination. "Enough talking about me, tell me a bit about ya self." He suggested.

There were far too few luxuries a dwarf could enjoy in the god forsaken wasteland. Ale, good ale was one of them. Whenever the hairy bastards got their hands on the stuff, it would vanish. Which is why Brimar was particularly displeased this day. A couple of runners found a barrel full of ale the other night and Brimar was there when they hauled it back home. He didn't have so much as a sip of it. Now those rascals were drowning in it. Grimar glided his craft through the rough sands and past his kin. They mocked him as he roared by. One of them had his tankard held high. Brimar didn't hear what he said but Brimar did read his lips as he passed by.

"Brimar! You'll never have anythin' as gud' as this ever agin'!"

Brimar smashed his fist at the side of the skiff and cursed loudly in an old dwarven tongue. His co-pilot gave him a stiff punch on the side. Though he was an elf, his fist gave Brimar a jolt. Brimar looked back with eyes burning red.

"Stop getting distracted you fool! You need to keep your eyes open for dangers. If the caravan get's ambushed it's your fault for not paying attention!"

Brimar turned his head back towards the open sands. 'Whos' idea was it tah' send this fop' out with me?' He thought to himself. He certainly wasn't helping. The next shift was not until a couple of hours later and by then, Brimar was more than certain the ale would be gone. Something managed to snap Brimar's attention back on the horizon though. A huge sandcloud, covering the expanses of the land. Brimar tapped the elf on his shoulder and pointed towards the sand storm.

"Better tell the elders of this!" The elf yelled, trying to get his voice across the roaring winds. Brimar nodded. The skiff made a turn towards the back of the crowd.

Being in front of a convoy had its advantages and disadvantages. As she rode with more and more groups, Linna found herself enjoying the lack of dust trails, but also not very enthusiastic about running into danger first. This time, there was another human up there with her, probably a seasoned raider by his armor. Then his words confirmed the obvious, though it came as a surprise to hear he had supposedly abandoned the raiding lifestyle. Of course, an actual raider wouldn't really start a friendly conversation. Well, there were the odd ones that took swindling over straight up banditry.

"I'm Linna, and you are right, I did hail from a monastery." She responded to the introduction with a bow of her own. "You made the right choice, if you ask me; people get further working together than hindering each other."

While Enric took a pause to recall his story, Linna took out her waterskin and drank. Water was precious in the desert, painfully so as she discovered over the years. Water was also used as a currency, and from what Enric said, the mere talk of it drew attention. This could very well be another tall tale so common with sand dwellers. Linna studied the man's face for a moment, it seemed genuine enough.

"Was it so?" Linna raised her eyebrow slightly. "This desert is full of reckless folks. But why were they tracking you? They must have been brave or foolish; probably both."

Then Enric the ex-raider went onto his combat history. Linna followed the words to the man's weapons; a pair of mismatching blades. Worn yet sturdy swords as far as they were visible. Dual wielding felt like an offensive choice to Linna. Double the cuts, sure, but she would rather have a spare hand or take a shield, should things get tense.

"Impressive, you sure know the element of surprise. Though I would have given them a chance to surrender, you know, most upstarts do have serious second thoughts seeing their friends die." Linna noted. Shifting to herself, she glanced behind to see a grizzled dwarf bickering with a bunch of drunks. "That one has quite the mouth, must be a dwarven talent, eh?" She pointed to Brimar.

"Anyways, I'm afraid my adventures are not as exciting as your own." Started Linna. She brushed a strand of hair from her face and continued. "I did have an encounter a similar group. They were inexperienced, but I didn't want to risk fighting them. Rather safe than sorry, right?" Some sand blew her way, prompting Linna to cover her eyes with her arm. "Didn't know whether I could take off or hold them off, and their chief wanted to roast me for dinner. So I started preaching to them about our lord and savior, next thing I knew, that same chief was shoving me away as fast as he could. Apparently 'holy books' gave him the runs."

The wind was picking up, a large swirl of dust was the source ahead. Brimar's elf companion was also yelling his pointy head off. "We should slow down, perhaps tell the others to find another route." Linna suggested. She unfolded her scarf and wrapped up her lower face.

Ahnci grunted as he sat back against Azak, ears standing up in surprise from the tug before gently folding back again. It was bad enough the locked device was put on him, being jerked around and called 'pet' was just rude and he'd likely be glaring daggers at the man for such disrespect if it wasn't for his gear. " I vould not be here if you simply left me alone!" he barked, giving the man a jab of antlers with the flick of his head and leaving another scuff in his chestplate. The tips of the antlers were a bit mushroomed at a few of the tips, a testament to similar efforts which would have normally been gouging into the human's ribs if not for their armor.
Though he knew the attack was in vain, it still helped Ahnciel feel better to lash out a bit.

By the time he looked back, the Aylv had lost sight of the kid. With a huff, he resolved himself to silence before the weight of the human's hand startled him, ears caught between the fingers of their keeper. They fluttered with indecision as he tilted his head to instinctively follow the hand before the fingers gripped around them to pull his head back.
Ahnciel yipped, reaching back to hold the hand and keep it from pulling any more before growling at Azak's words. "Your kind brought us upon themselves!" he hissed, tipping forward to pull the ears through the pockets in cloth, leaving Azak with a fistful of hood before catching another jab to the side of the helmet...dangerously close to the opening in his visor.

In the moment of the opening, the roar of an engine drew his attention to the rapidly approaching sand skiff. Though Ahnciel had never ridden one of the precious crafts, opportunity never looked more tantalizing.
The side of the Aylv's cloak billowed from a hand running up his thigh before a glint of steel flourished from the cloth, snipping the leash. The knife was jagged and inelegant, likely a chunk of armor beaten into shape with a rock and sharpened with a wrapped cloth handle, but it served its purpose well enough. Rolling off the side, he clung to the saddlebags while sawing off one which had what felt like particularly crossbow-like contents. The hasty task was messy, cutting the Yunik in the motion which caused it to buck enough to throw him off in the same motion of separating the bag.

How close his keeper was on his tail, it was tough to tell as Ahnciel was more concerned with throwing himself in the path of the speeder.
What seemed like an attempt at suicide might cause the craft to swerve, though the glint of steel extending underhanded made it look like some sick kind of martyrdom with the intent on attacking its occupants. Of course, both of these assumptions were wrong as the loud clang of metal rang out from the small figure hooking the knife on a bar of the roll-cage and was subsequently ripped off his feet.
In spite of how badly his shoulder ached from the pop of joints strained from the momentum, Ahnciel held on long enough to drag himself into the cargo bed in the back. Hissing curses and kicking in the air, the aylv got comfortable enough while inspecting his likely dislocated shoulder. He appeared oblivious to the occupants behind him while pulling goggles up to his forehead and mask down into his scarf before chuckling, "Pardons. May I?" with a grunt of pain.

"Never figured out why they were tracking me. My guess I probably pissed off the wrong person. I did a lot of stupid shit when I was younger." Enric said answering her question. They walked further along. During the telling of his story he noticed that she was looking at him in detail. "Well I could've said surrender, but you gotta think what am I gonna do with three prisoners. I didn't have the supplies to keep them for a period of time. Plus I didn't know if I could them under control. So killing them was my only option at the time." Looking back at the person she was pointed to. "Oh that guy. Yeah Brimar is loud. But he's good fun. Especially when you get him drunk. You should drink with him sometime. Hell we'll probably be drinking either later tonight when we settle or when we reach our destination." Enric had a smile on his face. "HA! Most likely though it'll both. Gotta drink when you can."

As she started her own tale of adventures, Enric was all ears. He loved hearing other people's stories. "AHAHAHAHA! Really? Holy books gave him the runs. HA thats awesome." Enric said getting his breath back from laughing so hard. "Oh yeah I saw you looking at my gear. Let me tell you a little bit about them. So the thin blade is based off a very old design that was used to pierce armor. The other sword is based off of a sword called a arming sword. As for the armor I forged it early on in my travels. Forged all my equipment." Enric noticed that the wind was picking up. Around his neck was a shemagh, Enric tightened it and raised it a bit further up to help prevent sand from getting into his helmet. "No other routes to where we are going. Besides this dust storm is gonna be miles long. Best to just slow down and tighten it up. Be on the lookout perfect time for a ambush. " Enric said.

It didn't take long for the news of a approaching sandstorm to spread throughout the caravan. Many people prepare themselves, covering their mouths and any equipment as well with long pieces of cloth. All the sandskiffs are recalled and are ordered to stay close to the trail with a minimum speed. They would be the eyes and ears of the caravan. If they were able to reach the arch, they would be out of the sand at least.

A short ten minutes later the first hard waves of wind starting hitting the group. Along with the wind come greats amounts of sand, covering everything and everyone in mere seconds with a layer of it. Shorter species who weren't able to get on a Yunik or a larger friend quickly struggle to even get forward. Some have the luck of being helped, others don't and are struggling behind the rest, the distance between them and their group grower larger by every step.

Those with keen ears might pick up strange, creaking sounds above the terrible sound of the howling wind. And those with keen eyes might see shades in the walls of sand. Those with belief might tell you that these are the dust spirits: People who died during the great Calamity and who can not find their way to the afterlife because the hundred tons of sand are blocking their path.
Whatever it is though, it sure is putting many of the people in the caravan on edge.

Like many others, Linna didn't waste time climbing onto the nearest sand skiff. She made sure Enric was following closely behind, because as well armored as the man was, nothing on an average human being to withstand a massive sandstorm such as this. Having settled on an awkward seat behind the hull of one particular vehicle, Linna brushed pockets of sand off her robes and continued the earlier conversation.

"Between you and me, drinking is not something a nun like me does." Linna smirked. "However, I believe seeing more of this dwarf fellow might just be worth it."

"Fine equipment you have crafted." Acknowledging the plates and blades, she had to immediately duck a gust of sand. "You might want to get your head down, however. Unless that helmet has a filter I don't know about."

It felt like the winds lessened after minutes, though it could very well be a simple pause. For the first time in a long journey, Linna picked up solid shapes in the distance, the shape of structures. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" She asked Enric.

Then, their skiff ended up beside Grimar's. Even obscured by bellowing dust, the smell of alcohol was well pronounced. "We should investigate ahead, before the main convoy!" Shouting to make herself heard, Linna hoped the dwarf was sober enough to know what investigate meant.

Azak grunted as the Aylv tried hard to gouge him, before laughing, "You already know that'll do little more than scuff the plate, boy. Why do you keep trying?", he shook his head, before the Aylv nearly got it in his visor. Growling he shoved the boy forward against the leash in retaliation. He smiled cruelly at this, happy to be holding all the power here. Unfourtanetly, that was all about to change very quickly as the boys cloak billowed up seemingly from nothing, obscuring the skiff from Azak. This momentary loss of vision was all the stealthy little git needed, as he snipped the leash and jumped ship... or riding beast onto the skiff, a sickening pop accompanying him as it sped away from Azak and his wounded mount.

The bandit growled looking down at the cut leash in his hand and the skiff rapidly gaining distance between them. With a flick of his wrist he brought his cleaver to bare, the chain connecting it to his wrist revealing its length as he flung it at the back of the craft, managing to hook it perfectly. Taking hold with both hands, he braced for the sudden pull as for a few yards he was simply dragged through the sand, accomadating to his new speed. After a few moment though he started to climb, pulling himself up the chain bit by bit, inch by inch getting closer to the skiff. His arms ached and sand blasted into his visor but he was heedless to these obstacles as he dragged himself forward.
It wasn't long before he had caught up, and grasped the hilt of his great cleaver and using it to pull himself up into the skiff... mere feet away from the Aylv, "So, trying to escape already eh? Not smart boy, you'll have to kill me before I let you get away from me!", he growled and lunged at the antlered boy, aiming to grab him by the dangerous protrusions lest he try to aim them into his visor. No one escaped Azak, not while he drew breath.

KIlgarrah walked among the sand in his titanic mass of a body, the sandstorm was unbearable, with dust getting into his squinting eyes and the blowing wind sending chills down his spine. Hopefully this storm would end soon, however amidst the rampaging storm he noticed something of interest. A distinct smell, mostly of other people in the distance. Despite the desert sand hindering his senses he can make out not only a skiff, but could tell that it just so happened to be moving into his direction. This was perfect. At worst, this could be another bandit party to raid in his eyes. He would begin to burrow in the sand, which the sandstorm aided in, offering much camoflauge. Though his blue scales stuck out from the sand, hopefully the storm would obscure him long enough for an ambush. The skiff drifted closer, and just before it ran over him, he leaped up with a terrifying roar that could be expected from his monstrous form. The 12 and a half foot Naga stood with native primitive armor, several cloth bags filled with what could be assumed is food, and several jugs of water that each could be at least 5 gallons. His weight caused the vehicle to shake a bit as he stood up. He didn't immediately engage into battle, instead letting those on the skiff observe his monstrous form and decide what to make of him, as he did the same. Observing all he could among the craft.

The clang of metal on the frame of the skiff drew Ahnciel's attention back to the man who quickly gained on him. Pulling his mask and goggles back up, his mind raced with ideas and intentions to jump off. His eyes narrowed as he fumbled with the pack, struggling to arm the crossbow while Azak was still out of reach. The pain in his shoulder proved to cause more trouble than he had hoped, the process slow even with the modified cocking mechanism. While sand and wind picked up, the Aylv slipped a bolt into place and looked up just in time to be met with the human bearing down on him.
A slightly muffled shriek of a roar rose from Ahnciel as the grip on his antlers were met with thrashing defiance. In the ensuing struggle, the crossbow went off, sending the bolt off into the dunes. "Give me a chance and I just may!" he barked, kicking at the armored man while being wrestled to the floor of the skiff, ears folding back in their hood-sleeves as Ahnciel reached for the shiv he'd freed himself with. In his haste, it'd been lost under in the cargo bags which he laid on.

The situation seemed to progressively worsen for the Aylv as a second skiff pulled up along side them, offering audience to his subjugation. "M-madam! Gah! Might I ask-!" He began, not above trying to trick the woman and those she was with into helping him. However, he was cut short by a bellowing roar from a beast who dragged themselves from the sand ahead of the skiffs.
Though Ahnci could hear it, his angle was less than ideal to get even glimpse of what made the sound. "I can help, Azak!" He hissed, though still insisting on struggling.

The skiff comes to a sudden halt as the elf and Brimar both step on the breaks. The elf steps out of the skiff and covers his eyes with one hand whilst holding up the other to show the beast he carried no weapon. "W-What do you want? We are the Outcasts. We have no rich bounties or ample supplies you can raid." He takes another step closer, trying to get a better view of the beast. Then he takes a step back and gasps aloud. He recognized the creature before him. It was a naga.

Brimar get's out as well and takes his double axe in hand. He decides to let the elf do the talking, while he stands behind the skiff, not really in sight.

@Flynn

As Kilgarrah stood there and heard the man try to defend himself, one word stuck out among him, outcasts. Looking down upon the elf who was already battle ready, a monstrous grin formed on his face. "Outcasts, huh?" one could swear he sounded a cross between a brutish orc and a crocodile. "Youre in luck then, I am an outcast as well." Instead of attacking the elf who armed himself infront of him or preparing for hostilities, he would take off one of the jugs filled with water and present it to the elf. "My name is Kilgarrah Ventmaw. Since a young hatchling I have been exiled from my tribe. Since then I have wandered the desert alone, and recently I decided I should join some sort of group. If you will have me, I can assure you my loyalty will be above all else."