Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Distance in Sand (1x1)

For such a hot desert, one would never suspect a small carriage to hold such darkness. The winds of the sand grating against the dry canvas, the wagon sliding against the golden sand beneath them. A camel creature bleated against the arid wind as the driver rubbed some sand from it's goggles, continuing it's heavy dredge against the sinking sand. In the cart, however, sat around 6 people, in complete silence. One was missing an eye, the other wrapped heavy in gauche. The few others next to him was robed. Towards the opening of the carriage, a woman with gold eyes peered aimlessly into the sands, lost in thought, and perhaps unaware of her surroundings.

"We're getting close." One of the members remarked. His eyes glanced over the crowd, settling his eyes on a newcomer. Hired for the journey, he was brought along. Honestly, they should have simply waited until another, more experienced member was around. But certain members were simply too impatient. "Oi. You. Ye know what they say 'round here. Time moves faster when you're not thinking on it. What's your name again?" he asked. Honestly, he knew his name. But anything was better then this stagnant boredom. Or watching the lady in charge daze off into nothingness.

The sand nomad had signed up for this caravan. Posed as an eager member of this scholarly team. Claiming to know about the locals and good with a blade in case of danger. It was certainly a lie. But he could do that, yes for the treasure to be had Ilyas could lie.

Truth be told this desert was his home, born of it and corrupted by it. The sands spoke out to him, a million voices calling out. He turned his head to the other "Ilyas" he'd say. Luckily what infamy he had was not around his name. The Devil of the Sands, the Monster of Dust, and so many other monikers were given. But no one knew who that monster was. That it was him. That this whole trip was indeed in a grave bit of trouble. They were mainly means to an end and he'd gain the wealth he was after. Not for his own greed, but because a curse compelled him. He was a servant of an ancient and terrible evil. His eyes darted back to the sand. They were moving slow, the driver was being far too cautious. Then again he had less to lose than the rest of them here. His eyes drifted to the women who sat with them.

"The sand calls to you?" he asked her "Some people say that you stare long enough, this desert will consume your mind in madness. All superstition of course."

Her trance was broken, her eyes flickering in annoyance as she turned that focus, piercing golden gaze back on him. Although very faint, between her wispy hair and her olive skin, drained to a soft sandy white due to the lack of sun exposure. Perhaps, a day very long ago, this woman found herself surfing the wild sands of the desert. But wherever those days were, they were far gone, judging by her harsh, cold gaze. "It doesn't call to anyone. It whispers. And either you are a fool and listen, or you are arrogant and ignore it." she curtly responded, her voice holding all but a hint of an accent, before looking back out at the same.

"Bah, just ignore her. She's a one-track minded woman. And she'll just ignore you until she gets what she wants." the man growled, something akin to a chuckle underneath his breath. With that, he looked to the edge of the cart again, the sands continuing to whirl, and twirl, mindlessly. "I don't feel safe in these deserts. They say that under the sands there are huge monsters that can devour caravans in one fell-swoop. Or bandits. Or demons.." he sighed. "Why the hell are we blasted out here anyway? We have half of this documented to Targe and back.." and with that statement, without so much as flinching, a flash of light, a small cloth flickered into an ornate scroll, that she smacked firmly into his chest.

He glanced it over, with an eyebrow raised. "Ye sure that's out here?" Her gaze broke, as if contemplating to respond, but she looked away again. She waved her hand, and the scroll turned a color, and then pointed towards the sand nomad. It seemed fairly standard, the scroll. It gave details about a mythical city in the region, buried in the sand, but intact by the souls of it's citizens. There was of few details about some things that may be found there, such as jewels and other prizes. Any good adventurer bait. It required for a particular way to get in. Though that was left vaguely unspecific..

"Do you have any questions?" the woman asked.

The sand nomad looked to rib the other man "You know, they sense fear. Feed off of it. Act brave or ignore them and you'll make it out alright" he grinned behind his face wrapping before his expression turned more serious when the scroll was offered to him.

Ilyas observed the interaction between the man and the girl. They seemed to be at opposite ends of a rope, tugging at one another. Perhaps it'd be possible to turn them against one another a voice said in his head. Ilyas looked at the scroll, then back up, then once more at the scroll.

"I have lots of questions" he replied finally "But none you can answer" He handed the scroll back and going to stare out into the desert himself "But the only answers are out there. not in this cart" He returned to silence for the remainder of the journey, at least until they stopped. He had nothing more to say to these people and he needed to mentally prepare for what was to happen next.