Aberresai Savannah --- One hour after Midday
Henk was used to sweating; it happened when you fought, when you traveled long distances, when you were extremely nervous or on edge. The Dreadlord Initiate was much less accustomed to sweating while sitting down and doing nothing but driving a one-seated wagon. That was just how blazingly hot the sun was over the savannah though, and he and his fellow Initiates didn't have much of a choice but to grin and bear it. The wagon had a cover over the back that did offer some protection, but it was small enough that they all had to take turns resting in the shade, and the back of the damned thing was so full of their belongings already that it could only fit one at a time. Two if you didn't mind snuggling up, he supposed. The rest of them, save the driver, were on horseback, following close, but the pace was agonizingly slow.
The worst part was not knowing exactly long they'd be stuck out here, or what exactly they were looking for; The town of Maraan was a trading hub nestled right on the edge of Amol-Kalit, flanked to the west by the Great Cities, as well as Elbion to the north. It made most of its profit by selling goods from the east, however: Merchant caravans from eastern cities such as Oban, Alliria, and even sometimes Vel Anir would travel to Maraan and sell their goods to the merchants there, rather than taking the even longer trip to make it to a major city. This was easier on the merchants themselves and gave the whole of the Amol-Kalit region a suitable market hub.
The issue was that a caravan hadn't arrived in a distressingly long time. The road into Maraan from the east was devoid of any wheel or hoof-prints, and the stores were running out of things to sell. It wasn't because no goods had been sent, either. Alliria and Oban had both reported multiple trading groups had been sent out, never to be seen again. It wasn't until Vel Anir had a caravan vanish that it was decided something had to be done.
These were no helpless traders either; They were protected by bodyguards, with armored wagons. Bandits could have been stealing everything that crossed through the Savannah, sure, but it was unlikely that they would leave absolutely no trace, or that they could keep it up for this long.
The Guard was convinced that something else was responsible for it all. Something that wasn't so easily explained away. It concerned them enough to send Henk and a few other Initiates out hunting: They were bait, plain and simple. Whatever was making caravans magically poof into thin air was likely to go after them as well, seemingly a group of unprotected teenagers with a wagon full of goodies.
When it did find them? Well, ideally they would kill it, Henk supposed. Certainly, they had the firepower on hand, but so far nothing had happened. Not even a hint of anybody else on the savannah. It made Henk nervous.
"It's past midday." Henk turned and called to the others behind him. "If we don't catch any sign of the damned thing soon, I vote we set up camp for the night and get some rest. A hot day like this, it's bound to be chilly once the sun dies out."