[Zozeko]

Quest Details: Path of Gold

Zozeko had stared at the small scroll in his hands, his wing claws twitching in disbelief. He read and re-read the astounding message several times before he realised that, yes, it really was written in his native tongue.

It would seem that his Lord had finally remembered his existence — damn his hide — and had a request. That in itself was enough to upset Zozeko's day, but it was the very nature of the request that confounded him.

"The Naharar's birthday approaches! His Magnificent Lord Ciro has heard of an Elysian creature thought to be the Eye of Xanth. My apprentice tells me this creature, the sahayem or "desert eye", is native to the Scorpion Desert and has many properties that would appeal to His Excellency. In his wisdom, he has granted you this task, Azat Zozeko. Do not fail.

And so, after half a day of disbelief, two days of taxing his brain in search of a way to ignore the "request" and a final day of petitioning his captain for shore leave (which coincided with their arrival in Espur), Zozeko had made his way to the nearest anka station in search of passage to the desert. He now stood beneath the canopy of a large tent where a fellow passenger bartered (loudly) with a local merchant, waiting for the noon heat to pass.

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[Faris]

Faris did not mind the heat of the environment; his hometown of Shulayya was warm all-year-round too. He did not mind the copious amount of sand either. Coastal areas and sand went hand in hand as well, and he was accustomed to the constant presence the two played in his life as a fisherman. What he did mind, was the overwhelming lack of water. Not only were bodies of water rare and rivers unheard of, even the level of moisture in the air was dismal. And he wasn't even in the desert yet! Faris took another long drink of water from his canteen, feeling beads of sweat rolling down his neck. His desire for comfort warred with a sense of duty. It was a brief skirmish, the outcome was apparent when he continued to plod towards the anka station.

Faris was not carrying any missives, nor letters. He had re-read his master's letter so many times in his shock and disbelief, that even reciting the contents backwards verbatim would not be problem. Written in Kader's smooth flowing script was the usual inquires on his health and Elysian life, before a very plain statement that Faris was to tasked with procuring the Naharar's birthday present. A suggestion that was not at all a suggestion had been given. Faris had the option of buying the gift, but not only was it expensive, but also quite short-lived. There was little guarantee that he would be able to get one that would last all the way till the Nahara's birthday.

So here he was, attempting to venture into a water-forsaken chunk of sand. And to do so, he needed a mount, there was no way he was going to walk. Faris moved about the gathering of tents and the hawkers they contained, before a familiar bat-winged figure caught his eye. His lips started to curl up in a smile of recognition, before an unpleasant possibility struck him. Immediately a resigned frown formed in place of the almost-smile. "Oh! Greetings, Azat Zozeko. Pardon my frankness, but please tell me your lord isn't eyeing that frail one-eyed mount, the Deserteye. I would rather have a friend out here in a desert than a competitor."

[Zozeko]

Zozeko turned, startled by the sound of his name. He had a few merchant contacts across Elysia, but he would never have expected to be recognised out here in the desert, least of all while he was on a mission for his Lord. “Azat Faris?” White-grey eyebrows arched in surprise as he took a conditioned step forward to greet the man.

He was a little slow to follow the Marid's line of questioning. It had been a while since he had been assigned a task like this, and in that time he had forgotten the dangers inherent in the job — not least of which was the competition! “Of course he is.” He gave Faris a dry smile meant to underline the irony of the situation, but more so the fact that they both should have been prepared for this. “The Naharar's birthday, no?” A shoulder lifted in a weary shrug. He was not wearing his jacket, having decided to leave the heavy thing on the ship, but had been advised to remain clothed so his shirt billowed in the gentle whorl of air circulating around him.

To be polite, he extended the pseudo-cyclone around the Marid as well, the ends of his braid fluttering. The cycle of air was still too hot to make much of a difference to the sweat already staining under his arms and the V of his chest, but it was at least marginally cooler than outside his little bubble.

“Were you planning on taking the mount itself or just the eye, perhaps? We could come to some agreement in the event that we can only find one. I believe the desert will be friendlier to the two of us than if we went our separate ways, no?” He was not familiar with Faris' House so he believed his own, Harith, to be the more significant, which meant he technically outranked the Marid (questions of who was the better element or Lord aside), and he would have no qualms about using that to his advantage if need be.

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[Faris]

Azat Zozeko caught on quickly, correctly pointing out that the Naharar's birthday was the root cause of all this trouble. Faris gave a smile of appreciation when he felt himself being included into the artificially ventilated bubble. Perhaps it was his mind playing tricks, but the placebo felt very real and even his eyes stopped their lids. Faris was wearing what appeared to be his usual outfit, but only he himself was aware that he had spent hours going through his wardrobe before putting together this attire. Every single item was soft and light in weight; Faris had steadfastly rejected anything that might possibly chaff. He had no intentions of exiting the desert covered in blisters.

"My task is to obtain the whole beast, and alive. Though I supposed just getting part of the Monosafaira back will have to suffice as a backup plan. One that I hopefully will not have to resort to with mutual assistance from you. Indeed, with the company of another I suppose this inhospitable chunk of sand could very well bear fruit." He nodded to Azat Zozeko's suggestion, pleased that the man had not let petty competitiveness get the better of him. That he made the offer showed that the head of Harith was a shrewd man. Integrity was another thing altogether, and it remained to be seen if his words 'coming to an agreement' would hold true when tested. At the end of this assignment, Faris decided, he would pop the question his parents had tasked him with.

Wanting to fully utilise the advantage of having someone to work with, Faris eyed the local merchant with a calculating gleam. "Shall we tag-team while getting our supplies? More importantly, while we hire our mounts, assuming you have not got one already. I heard they tend to overcharge single passengers, and I have no intention of finding out for myself."

[Zozeko]

“Hmm.” Zozeko had been afraid Faris would say he wanted the whole beast. This could very well turn into a battle against a man with whom he had no previous disagreements, and Zozeko did so dislike having to be on the defensive. That was at least one thing Elysia had to its advantage: He may still need to be on guard against attack from strangers, but once loyalty had been proven among the crew, he need not fear a knife in the back — not simply to please someone else, at the very least, though he was sure he had angered every single one of the crew enough to want personal vengeance at one point or another.

“Indeed, I saw a man with a trio of camels at the far end of the camp. I was waiting for the noon heat to pass before I approached him. Perhaps taking all three would be wise, in case of an accident. We can use it to carry extra water from the oasis as well, no?” The offer was not merely for their health but because his partner on this hunt was Marid. It was not often Zozeko conceded that another element had its merits, but if they were to get lost and forced to recycle their water, then someone with the ability to purify what was left would be most welcome indeed.

He led the way through the camp, sneaking between open-air tents to avoid the sun. The bazaar had a feeling reminiscent of the marketplace in Fessijah so he felt in equal parts at home and homesick, fending off overzealous hawkers with ease and a sharp tongue.

“You there.” An overly bronzed man too tall to be a Sidhe turned to meet his gaze from under bushy black eyebrows and a wide-brimmed hat. He was unfazed by Zozeko's unfriendly tone, a saccharine smile splitting his pockmarked face. “How much to rent the three?” Zozeko nodded at the camels, feeling the weight of his coin purse hanging from his belt. He had a secret stash in his boots as well, of course, but he would be damned if he would dip into his emergency funds for a bunch of hairy, spitting mammals.

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[Faris]

"Rent? No, a hundred xanthai each. If you return them to me in good condition I'll return you fifty out of the hundred in exchange."

Faris let his mouth hang slightly open, as if in surprise. Blinking rapidly, he gazed at the owner, at the goods, and then at the man again. Though Faris very much disliked exaggerating his expressions, according to the female members of his family being more exuberant was an advantage when haggling. "There's a reason why the shop owners always end up asking you to leave; they think you're just not interested enough in the goods.", they had said. Faris had no intention of traversing the Scorpion Desert on foot, so he made sure to make his disbelief and flinch obvious. When he saw that the man had noticed the change in his expression, Faris moved on to phase two.

"I like your camels, but I don't like the price at all." Without saying anything more, Faris looked straight into the hazel eyes of the trader.

[Zozeko]

Zozeko was pleased with Azat Faris' dismissal of the vendor's prices. “Indeed, I would pay only half that to buy.” He sniffed haughtily and turned to walk away, taking a gamble that he would be called back, and sure enough the bronzed man responded swiftly.

“You do not have a choice out here, my friend.” His arms speared out to encompass the encampment and the vast desert beyond. “My camels are the only ones available.”

Zozeko sniffed again, his face a ponderous mask. “Then perhaps we should return to Espur, Azat Faris, and bring our own mounts when we return.” The anka ticket had cost more than enough to make such a trip wasteful and the merchant knew as much, but Zozeko was a haggler. He refused to agree to such an outrageous price right from the beginning just because the vendor had a niche market. He could only hope that Faris fell in line with his plan...

“Wait! Surely you are not so petty as to waste your coin on those filthy creatures just to come back?” The vendor had a questionable notion of what was 'filthy'. Upon seeing Zozeko's frown, he hedged, “Then, ninety each.”

“Fifty.”

“Ah, you are joking with me, no? Eighty!”

ooc// You can skip to their leaving camp after successful negotiations, if you like, Pchan.

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[Faris]

"More than wasting coin, I loathe my wasted coin being spent on overpriced goods. I know the current market-price for camels. Fifty-five is above that. Think about it; fifty-five xanthai, or nothing."

Disregarding courtesy, Faris interjected. He ended off his ultimatum with the silent treatment once more. This time the merchant's will slowly crumbled in the face of Faris' impatience. A few moments later, the deal was concluded at a total of a hundred and eighty xanthai for three camels. Money and goods changed hands, and they brought the newly acquired beasts of burden over to the oasis that the trading station had been set up around. Faris busied himself with refilling his three canteens with water, and coaxed the three camels into drinking more than their fill as well. It was likely that they were going to be in the desert for a long time.

---

They were on the edge of the encampment now, getting ready to set off. Gently nudging the beast into a sitting position, Faris clambered onto the mount. He had at most a sketchy idea of how to ride a camel, but refrained from asking Azat Zozeko. Settling himself into the most comfortable position he could achieve, Faris pulled on the reins. There was no response from the animal beneath him. Frowning, Faris patted its neck, hesitantly saying "up" in Elysian in an attempt to get the creature to act accordingly. Thankfully, the dull-eyed creature seemed to understand him better this time, and rose to its feet.

It started moving forwards, and Faris had to pull on the reins once more. Just in case, he commanded, "Halt, pause, stop!" The mish-mash of commands worked, except Faris now had no idea if the camel was responding to the reins, halt, pause, stop, the panic in his voice or any combination of the lot. Hiding his unsteady camelmanship, Faris turned to his companion.

"So, what do you know about the Monosafaira? The Scorpion Desert is vast, and the Deserteye is not exactly a common creature. I suggest including the Great Cactus somewhere in our itinerary. Travelers say it is a sure source of water."

[Zozeko]

Zozeko was impressed with Faris' negotiation skills, but not so much his camel-riding skills. Still, he could not judge, given that he himself had usually driven one of the carts in his father's merchant caravans across the deserts of Ilia. He knew enough to not look terrible at it, but keeping himself upright in the seat was taking most of his concentration.

He took pity on the Marid finally, however, enough to say: “Ease the tension in the reins, Azat Faris. They respond to non-verbal commands for the most part. If you must speak out, click your tongue once for stop and twice for go.” He covered his smile by turning his head away from the other Zanaryan to scope out the endless landscape. The Great Cactus and its surrounding encampment were still in view behind them, if barely, but the heat reflected from the sand made it impossible to make out details.

“Sahayem,” he mused, calling the creature by the name his people had given it. “I have heard it to be an elusive creature, as you say, and dangerous. A cyclops thought to be an Eye of Xanth, no?” His skepticism was evident in his tone and the bored look on his face. “I suspect this to be a wild goose chase, as it were, but I suggest a strategised search pattern. As you say, the Great Cactus camp we just left is one of very few sources of water in this Xanth-forsaken desert, so we should not stray too far if we can avoid it. Perhaps a spiral,” he pondered aloud, his lips twisting in thought as he considered the dune-riddled landscape. “If we stay atop the dunes, which is the safest route anyway, we should be able to see further, no?”

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[Faris]

It was to Faris' credit that his face did not colour in response to Azat Zozeko's words. The younger Zanaryan followed the given advice, warily slackening his hold on the reins. He relaxed slightly when the beast beneath him did not bolt – in fact the camel seemed completely content to remain where it stood. As his fear of being unglamorously dismounted slowly subsided, Faris turned his mind to consider Azat Zozeko's assessment of their search and prey. Indeed, sightings of the desert's one-eyed deer was scarce, and knowledge about its habits even more so.

From what he had heard, the Eye of the Desert was reputed to be the incarnation of sandstorms, allergic to humanoids, was telepathic, homicidal, and originally a sacred animal sent by Xanth to watch over the desert that had turned murderous ever since Xanth disappeared. The incoherent potpourri of suppositions and superstitions was not helpful in the least, and Faris agreed whole-heartedly when Azat Zozeko called their assignment a wild goose chase.

"Well, let's get going."

Faris moved his tongue to produce an audible click, and amazingly enough, his camel started moving forward. Keeping Azat Zozeko's instructions in mind, he guided nudged the beast with pressure from his thighs, directing it to a dune some distance away. The camel's stride was an odd one, and Faris had a sinking feeling that it might very well take him the better part of the journey to get used to it. As he adjusted his posture and rhythm to match that of his mount, Faris took out a loose hooded beige cloak from his backpack and slipped it on. He let the light material cover his wings; even if the restriction on his wings were uncomfortable, Faris knew sunburns would be much worse especially since the sun was blazing on their backs, casting a trio of sharp shadows onto the shifting ground.

[Zozeko]

Zozeko wished he had brought his jacket, after all. Like in Ilia, it was too hot to wear such a heavy thing, but driving a cart had never taught him the true danger of a desert: The sun. He had always been shaded during his travels across the rebel nation, but not so here. At first he used his wings as shade, but they tired quickly, and once folded only kept his back safe. Then, after seeing Faris' efforts with his cloak, he rooted around the saddle and found a thin blanket, fixing it to his head with his belt and draping it down his back, his wings tucked beneath it.

They had been searching most of the afternoon already, never losing sight of the Great Cactus camp. Though Zozeko was accustomed to rationing supplies, thanks to working aboard the Artega, he found it much more difficult to moderate his water consumption under the burning sun. “Perhaps we would be better searching at night. Neme can be as bright as Hel sometimes; out here in the desert, moonlight should be enough.” His skin prickled, almost as if they were being watched, and he wiped the sleeve of his shirt about his neck to blot away the sweat.

His head swivelled this way and that. Zozeko clicked his tongue twice to stop his camel, fixated on a dark spot against the sandy backdrop a few dunes away. “Do you see that?”

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[Faris]

Faris was starting to think that the sun would never set. Time was passing at an agonizingly slow rate, and as far as the Azat Marid could tell, they were nowhere closer to finding a Deserteye, much less two. He uncapped his canteen and sipped from the bottle, closing his tired eyes. As they progressed further and further from the oasis, the colour of the sand had changed subtly, paling from an earthy brown to bleached beige. The relentless rays of sunlight from above only served to make the ground even whiter, quickly putting a great strain on his eyes whenever he tried to look around for signs of activity.

Fractionally opening his eyes a crack to keep the canteen and continue surveying the land around them, Faris wiped away the sweat that had accumulated on his brow that were threatening to go into his eyes. He slid his point of focus over to Azat Zozeko when the elder Zanaryan spoke, turning his head only slightly. He nodded in response to the elder Zanaryan's suggestion, not even bothering to give a verbal reply. It felt as though the moment he open his mouth the desert would try to strip all water from the orifice.

He mimicked Azat Zozeko's actions when the other stopped to stare at something, and followed his intent line of sight to find a single dark spot against the light ground. "Well. It doesn't seem to be moving." It matched the behaviour of the Deserteye, which was said to be an unmoving voyeur that loved to observe people from afar. Faris clicked his tongue once more, moving straight towards the dark spot without any attempt at hiding his presence. He saw no point in doing otherwise. There was no way Faris could be stealthy, not with his lackluster riding.

The spot grew bigger as he passed one dune and another, and then stopped. Frowning, Faris commented to his companion. "Whatever that thing is, it's not a Deserteye." The shape simply did not look right; it looked like a crawling creature, or an upright one which had collapsed. Curiosity made him resume his advancement however. Seeing as how their search for the Deserteye still had a long way to go, there was little harm in checking out what other things the Scorpion Desert had in store for them. There was a chance that they would find something else of equal worth and novelty to conclude their tasks with.

[Zozeko]

Zozeko was disappointed when Azat Faris discredited what he had seen. His hopes of ending this quickly were dashed to smithereens on the burning sand and he pursed his lips to show his displeasure.

“Perhaps a scorpion king,” he mused with more hope in his voice than he actually felt. The chances of finding a king in this disgusting place were about as likely as finding the Naharar on his own doorstep one day begging for his advice. “A scopion, at the very least. I believe those are large enough here to be seen from this distance, and the way it lies flat...” He trailed off as the thought occured that this may well be some other poor soul defeated by the desert. Despite the suffocating heat, Zozeko felt a chill along his spine.

“Perhaps we should give it a wide berth,” came his immediate response. He had no urge to rescue anyone nor to discover a corpse, yet there was hesitation in his voice and he did nothing to correct his camel's path. If this was indeed a giant scorpion, this would be a waste of an opportunity for at least getting some recompense for this nonsense.

As they drew close enough to see that the dark blotch had a shiny carcass suggestive of a scorpion's carapace, Zozeko turned to eye Azat Faris. “How good are you in a fight without your element?”

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[Faris]

Faris paused, sizing up the creature before them. It somewhat difficult gauge accurately, but given that the edges of its outline were well-hidden under desert sand he could conclude with confidence that it was larger than at first glance. Faris hesitated before replying to Azat Zozeko.

"... Well enough to prevent myself from losing pieces and getting new holes. I have fought without using my element before. I don't see myself coming out of this battle unscathed though; and we need to secure our mounts somewhere first... Perhaps we should leave the tanning scorpion alone for now? We already know that its location and chances are a predator already set up for ambush won't be moving anytime soon. If we this one we may very well be siphoning away the energy we need for the remainder of our search."

After all, they were here for the Deserteye and not oversized scorpions. Additionally the prospect of fighting in adverse conditions was not a welcome one for Faris despite his confidence in his combat skills. Extra-large portions of seafood he was used to fighting since they had nowhere to hide from his control of the waters; here though, the reverse was true - the namesake of this desert had the absolute advantage. For all they knew there could be another fifteen of these creatures hiding in the vicinity.

Or anywhere, really.

The thought sent a prickle up Faris' neck, and in spite of the sweltering heat he shivered. More and more obstacles were popping up to hinder their search. Yet failure was not an option, even though he had little love for Lord Ea (or the Naharar or even any of the Shrine Lords for that matter). The honour of Saab was at stake here; Faris had no doubt as to the openly scathing remarks and whispered comments that would be directed at his family if the present was anything less than a success. If they kept turning back at every instance, it was possible that they would return from this foray absolutely empty-handed….

“But I am a newcomer to the desert; the final decision is yours to take. I will defer to your decision either way.”

[Zozeko]

Zozeko grumbled. Azat Faris had a point. A good point, actually. He did not wish to lose the camels and have to walk back to the Great Cactus camp. It may not appear that far now, but he was almost positive the lack of distance was a mirage; the camels had certainly walked enough, even if they had been going in a spiral.

“You think well,” he acknowledged clumsily. He was not accustomed to giving out compliments, but the Marid may be a contact worth cultivating and he was not about to burn his bridges before he knew more about House Saab. “On we go.”

---

They had searched the night through and returned to camp to find shelter when the heat became too bothersome to manage and their water supply ran out. Sure enough, Zozeko wished, at least once every ten minutes, that he had brought his jacket with him, after all. Searching at night brought its own problems — the night freeze being one of them — and they had still seen no indication of the sahayem.

While during the day he had no energy to speak, and barely enough to huff at Hel's inconsideration, darkness brought a need to keep each other conscious to ward off hypothermia. Zozeko had begun to chatter about things he would not have spoken to anyone in any other circumstance, mumbling of his wife, his daughter's increasing disrespect, and the Malik's insistence on treating him like a mad old uncle rather than a beloved father.

Napping through the worst of the heat beneath an open, public tent, Zozeko tottered down to the oasis the next morning to refill their canteens and freshen up. Already he had encountered several people who had sneered at his scent. He had deliberately swirled the air around himself and toward them to carry the smell closer, and smirked when they retched.

Wretched Elysians. “The ostler there said he was sure he saw a desert-eye to the north of here on his way in last night. How he can be sure it was a sahayem when his anka was hundreds of feet in the air flying at break-neck speed is beyond me, but it is the only sign we have had so it is perhaps worth a look, no?” They were back on camel-back riding into the twilight. Zozeko's blanket was no longer wrapped around his head; he was huddled into the thing instead.

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[Faris]

Faris nodded, already adjusting the direction his mount was heading in. Ahead of them was sand, sand, and more sand. The sand dunes breaking the long line of horizon looked increasingly similar to each other, much to the Marid's chagrin. He had tried to relate the sandy expanse to the seemingly identical seas that he was much more familiar with, but the clumsy analog was ineffective at best. Suppressing a sigh, Faris turned his eyes skyward, to the only thing the desert had in common with the seas - an unobstructed view of the sky.

It was a vivid blue right now, the harsh face of Hel nowhere to be seen. Their surroundings was still well-illuminated however, and would remain so for a half-hour or so. Faris guaged that they had about two hour in total to search for traces of the Deserteye. Once nightfall truly arrived, the temperatures would fall rapidly and before long they would have to stop again while the wost of the unrelenting cold and darkness passed. The sea, in comparison, was a far more comfortable place indeed.

Faris had been quiet for most part of their search; he was never a gregarious person to begin with, and between the aridity and chill became even less inclined to speak. There was little to speak of anyway, due to the lack of progress. Yet in the darkest hours Faris found himself learning quite abit about Azat Zozeko while letting slip little natterings of his own. Mostly rants about how Lord Nen was such a glutton, and worries about his younger siblings.

Ah.. A little fire would be good...

Faris turned away from the sky and looked around once again. Nothing changed; all he saw was sand, and more sand, Azat Zozeko and his camel, sand - Faris stopped, his eyes locked onto something in the ground. He glanced up and around quickly, frowning as he dismounted. He had caught onto the presence of water, which in this arid environment was akin to a blazing bonfire. Sure enough, Faris managed to find an almost-empty canteen a couple of paces away. Not an important discovery in itself, but the implications were of note. He held it up so Azat Zozeko could see his find.

"Someone dropped their canteen, recently too. Wonder what kind of hurry they were in..."

[Zozeko]

Zozeko wrinkled his nose. He didn't really care that someone was probably out here dying, but when he saw the canteen, several thoughts occurred to him: Someone else was out here, probably hunting since there was very little else to do in the desert. Given the timing, that someone may very well be another Zanaryan on the hunt for a deserteye. There was also a very real possibility that the black shape they had seen yesterday was not actually a giant scorpion but a body, after all.

“If the thing we saw yesterday was a person, they are no doubt dead by now,” he assured Faris as one might assure a murderer that they had killed justly. There was little chance for anyone to survived the heat and the cold, waterless, for more than a day. Perhaps they should have investigated further, but Zozeko was still more than half convinced that the dark shape had been too shiny and flat for even a prone person. “Take it with us. If it is empty, we can refill it with our own. If it has water in it, all the better.” Even stale, warm water could be a godsend out here.

As soon as Faris was back on his camel, Zozeko spurred his own to move on. He had bartered the use of an eyeglass, so when they spotted another shape in the far distance, he looked through it. At first, and to his disappointment, it seemed nothing was there and that the lens was smudged with fingerprints. However, the stars were acting most strangely in that region and as he checked the glass and rubbed his eyes, he thought perhaps there was something more. “Azat Faris.” Holding out the eyeglass, he nodded his chin in the direction of the apparent mirage. “Do you see a trail of light over there?”

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[Faris]

Faris handled the spyglass gingerly, giving the object a once-over before cautiously edging it close to an eye. He pointed it over to where Azat Zozeko had indicated, and after a pause, lowered the spyglass and stared at both ends. The glassy appeared to be clear and without any noticeable fractures. Blinking before looking through the spyglass once more, Faris confirmed that the shimmering white-gold line was indeed there and not merely the revenge of a neglected tool. He handed the spyglass back to Azat Zozeko and nudged his camel forwards.

"Indeed. It's definitely not water though..."

The first warning came, when his camel just narrowly avoided the strike of a snake whose sleep the pair of Zanaryan's had disturbed. Faris chased it away with his trident easily enough, the serpent sluggishly slithering further than the prongs of his weapon could reach. As they approached the trail of light though, the number of these occurrences were steadily increased, to the point which an exasperated Faris asked if Azat Zozeko could double-check again if they were moving in the right direction.

"Honestly, I feel as if we're heading straight into - look! Over there!"

In the fading light it was impossible to tell for certain, but Faris was sure that the creature was a monosafaira. What other long-legged beasts was there in the desert?

[OOC: sorry for the wait I wasn't sure what to make of the trail of lights ]

[Zozeko]

Zozeko sneered at the spray of sand kicked up by his camel, searching for the serpents that had suddenly begun to plague their quest. He and Faris both were keeping one eye on the ground and one eye on the horizon, seeking further sign that they were not chasing the desert's equivalent of a goose. He took a moment, at Faris' request, to check through the eyeglass and scan the horizon, but nothing of interest showed up anywhere else so he merely shrugged. “May as well continue,” he told the Marid, “If only for lack of another target.”

When the other man called out and pointed, Zeko whipped up the eyeglass and scowled through the mirrors. For the briefest moment, his shoulders were tense and he held his breath as if the exhalation would scare off even the potential. Then he was in motion, spurring his camel on with a kick of his heels. He was already several paces ahead before he thought to vocalise the motion. “Yip! It is! Let's go!”

He rode fast and hard along the tops of the dunes, but slowed as they drew nearer. He didn't want to spook the thing, after all, and used the air currents to keep their scent "down wind". Hopefully, his manipulation would also muffle the sound of their approach, though there was little he could do to keep the creature from seeing them. Perhaps if they dipped into the one of the dune valleys and came up at it from below, but they risked losing sight of it themselves that way. Conscious of how cold it was getting, he wanted to capture the thing as quickly as possible. If they had to head back to camp before they caught it, who knew if they would ever even glimpse the damn thing ever again?

A shift in the breeze he was creating drew his attention slightly to his left, where he scanned the horizon once again. Where before the darkening sky was thick with stars, it was little more than a black-on-black canvas. Tingles shot down his spine and he prodded at the mass that was blocking the starlight with his senses. “Ah.” Keeping his voice low but unable to hide the tension, he kept his gaze on what could only be a stack of dark clouds. “Azat Faris, we may have a problem.” While elsewhere, such clouds were usually more of an inconvenience than dangerous, out here in the desert storms were generally electrical or high winds filled with grit and sand. Getting caught in something like that could be lethal, and even Zozeko was not sure he could keep up his shield against forces that strong.

Damned if he was going to lose this opportunity. But how to capture this thing without risking their necks?

Ransie ∴ Piper's Boutique ∴ Wallpaper Abyss ∴ Celestial Star ↵