Water. He needed water.
He'd been walking for 8 nights straight now, sleeping during the day under the limited shade of the rags he wore. Even for a Sand Elf, 8 days without water was seriously pushing it. If he hadn't been a soul sage, he definitely would have died by night 6. He needed to find someone to rob, and fast.
The moons rose high over the endless sand, their pale light glaring down disapprovingly upon Nahir. Thievery was unbecoming for someone who'd been raised to know better. But the moons weren't about to awaken the young elf's conscience. Cresting the top of a dune, Nahir scanned the horizon for any sign of life: a caravan, a village, a lizard, something. Only empty desert greeted his gaze. He needed water, and people usually had water. So he'd find someone, and take their stuff. Or he'd die here, in his homeland, in the sands he was meant to be master of. The cruel irony did not amuse him in the slightest.
8 days ago he'd moved on from the tiny oasis he'd found, certain that if he continued Southeast that he'd reach the Baal-Duru River with time. But his sense of direction had clearly dimmed, since in 8 days he'd seen neither the river nor the Gulf of Annuak. Perhaps his course was more East than South? But how could that be? He'd set his course by the stars, and the stars could not lie.... could they?
Using his rusted sword as a walking stick, he tramped tiredly off his dune onto a flat expanse of sand. This was ridiculous. He should have stayed at the oasis. Every step hurt his feet. He should have listened to his cousin. His throat was so cracked it hurt. He should have killed his uncle when he-
A light.
Nahir threw himself prone into the sand, his head propped up and eyes wide. There was no smoke in the sky.... had it been a tiny little dry campfire? Moonlight glinting off armor? A magic spell? A torch?
It didn't matter. Someone was here in the desert with Nahir. And he was thirsty.
Concentrating as hard as he could, Nahir channeled energy through his Sahu, letting his stomach fill with what power he had left. Manipulate Sand
Laying on his stomach, the sand under him began to move. It pulled him along slowly, like a cobra, in the direction of the light he'd so briefly seen.
He'd been walking for 8 nights straight now, sleeping during the day under the limited shade of the rags he wore. Even for a Sand Elf, 8 days without water was seriously pushing it. If he hadn't been a soul sage, he definitely would have died by night 6. He needed to find someone to rob, and fast.
The moons rose high over the endless sand, their pale light glaring down disapprovingly upon Nahir. Thievery was unbecoming for someone who'd been raised to know better. But the moons weren't about to awaken the young elf's conscience. Cresting the top of a dune, Nahir scanned the horizon for any sign of life: a caravan, a village, a lizard, something. Only empty desert greeted his gaze. He needed water, and people usually had water. So he'd find someone, and take their stuff. Or he'd die here, in his homeland, in the sands he was meant to be master of. The cruel irony did not amuse him in the slightest.
8 days ago he'd moved on from the tiny oasis he'd found, certain that if he continued Southeast that he'd reach the Baal-Duru River with time. But his sense of direction had clearly dimmed, since in 8 days he'd seen neither the river nor the Gulf of Annuak. Perhaps his course was more East than South? But how could that be? He'd set his course by the stars, and the stars could not lie.... could they?
Using his rusted sword as a walking stick, he tramped tiredly off his dune onto a flat expanse of sand. This was ridiculous. He should have stayed at the oasis. Every step hurt his feet. He should have listened to his cousin. His throat was so cracked it hurt. He should have killed his uncle when he-
A light.
Nahir threw himself prone into the sand, his head propped up and eyes wide. There was no smoke in the sky.... had it been a tiny little dry campfire? Moonlight glinting off armor? A magic spell? A torch?
It didn't matter. Someone was here in the desert with Nahir. And he was thirsty.
Concentrating as hard as he could, Nahir channeled energy through his Sahu, letting his stomach fill with what power he had left. Manipulate Sand
Laying on his stomach, the sand under him began to move. It pulled him along slowly, like a cobra, in the direction of the light he'd so briefly seen.
