Sand, Sorrow, and Surrender (Adarra)

by **Kharadish re Lsar** on December 6th, 2011, 4:55 pm

Season of Winter, Day 3, 511 AV

Early Afternoon
Half a days travel from Yahebah

Sand, Sorrow, and Surrender

A sun quenched beautiful land, rolling dunes of time painting a canvass that could only be called breathtaking. Such patterns of sand and stone, glistening in the sun’s gaze, could give you pause if you had eyes to see, and a heart to appreciate it. This was a land that a man might be proud to call home, one he could live and die for. On the outskirts of Yahebah two men were seeking shade, and a moments rest from their travels. Here near the sea, winter was not as you might picture it in other domains. While the thought of a snow was a joke only spoken by new travellers, ice this close to the coast was not unheard of. Kharadish could not remember the last time he had seen it, but he had a distant memory of the water's bane.

Standing in well polished, studded leather armor, one foot proudly atop a flat, square bolder; Kharadish re Lsar, gilded firstborn to the family Lsar, was polishing his family scimitar with a torn piece of fabric. The weapon seemed clean already, but it was not sparkling, and Kharadish would not be seen travelling with an imperfect blade.

With a steel nasal helm hiding some of his head, a brown beard and hazel eyes poked their way around the well kept metal, three javelins were harnessed to his back, along with a shield by his side. His companion, an older man, was dressed much the same in leather, a scimitar on his belt, and wearing a steel skullcap.

“One day you will wear out that sword,” said the older man in a common tongue.

“That is why you are here, old friend.” Karadish said in a more guttural language, the language of Arumenic, noticeably the y’s were pronounced more softly than common.

“Hmph, one day I will not be here, and then where will you be?” The older man replied, crossing his arms, removing his sword, and sitting down in the shade, a mild relief from the desert was given by a small collection of upstanding rocks.

Kharadish laughed and smiled, “Of all the men Dira watches over, you are too stubborn to die.” Answering this time in common, though it was a bad attempt at it, and the words seemed somewhat jumbled.

The older man, Rhkart re Dsern, removed his helmet, showing what could be described as a gentile face, thick brown hair and a badly kept beard. He was quite tall, but very lean, looking like he needed a good meal or two. Both men of course had several arms, Kharadish six and his friend the same, only the older man had one in a permanent sling. The most noticeable thing about the younger man was that his six arms were thick, he had a stocky build overall, with very thick shoulders and forearms.

All seemed peaceful, but then that is how it always starts, when you least expect it is when the world turns.

OOC Music :

by **Adarra** on December 7th, 2011, 3:36 am

The desert air hung thick and heavy, shimmering in the heat. It teased the untrained eye, blurring dunes into silvery pools, clinging to the landscape like an impenetrable fog. The sun sat low in the sky, though the day was far from over. In the hot, endless sand stood a figure, stilled in static silence, iridescent green eyes fixed on the sky.

Her dusky skin was covered in long skirts and sleeves, layered fabric of deep greens, browns, and reds. Dark auburn hair stood in stark contrast to the silken shall that covered it, trailing down to the middle of her back. Her posture was rigid, ready and wary, tense in anticipation of whatever unknown lurked over the next dune. She seemed able, though; a leather belt tied about her waist held a dull hunting knife, and a long, ornately carved longbow was strapped to her back, in a leather quiver full of slim wooden arrows.

She drew in a breath through clenched teeth, eyes drifting to and fro. After a moment, she sighed, lifting handfuls of skirt to reveal deeply worn, masculine leather boots. Climbing up the next dune with considerable agility, she peered across the radiant landscape, smiling to herself as she caught sight of a huddle of spindly trees.

Standing to her full height, she placed two slender fingers into her mouth, whistling. The sound echoed across the dunes, and she paused, silent, listening. A moment passed, and she heard a snort in response. A lofty horse trotted into view a little ways away, nimbly making his way toward her over the dunes. He was heavy laden with packs and possessions, but moved easily through the sand. As he joined her side, she halted him with a gentle hand, stroking his buckskin pelt. The gelding matched the sand that surrounded them, with the exception of the murky mane and tail.

The girl smiled at him, beaming with pride, and clutched the bridle that hung at his side, mounting with ease. She pulled him left, egging him onward in an affectionate tone, leaning down to whisper to him in Shiber. He seemed to understand, carefully picking his way down the dune and journeying toward the group of trees. She leaned back, loosening her grip on the bridle, and fixed her eyes once again on the sky.

“Remember,” her brother’s deep voice, full of concern, echoed at the forefront of her memory, “navigation is based solely on the sky. The sun will rise and set, and the stars will guide you. Always watch them.” His oceanic eyes did not stray from his sister. She nodded politely, stowing tying the bedroll onto the back of her mount’s saddle. “Adarra,” Jozef rested a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from her work. She looked up at him, slightly taken aback. He hesitated, then pulled her into a tight embrace. He was silent for a long moment, then released her just enough to look her in the eye, “Promise me you’ll come back alive.” He pleaded. Adarra smiled at her brother, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his chest, “I promise.” She breathed.

Adarra lowered her gaze, scanning the vast emptiness that encompassed her. She questioned her decision to journey so far from home, but soon recollected her reason; a calling, from Yahal himself, toward some unknown greatness. She would wander, directed by the promptings of an inner voice, until she found it.

OOC Music :

by **Kharadish re Lsar** on December 7th, 2011, 7:59 pm

Some time past at rest, with friendly banter taking the place of the days travel. Taking a long drink from his waterskin, the older man coughed, clearing his throat. Rhkart had been coughing now on and off for an hour, already Kharadish had shown concern but the older man had waved it off. He was about to say something again when a colder, dry wind replaced the warmer air, causing Kharadish to stop what he was doing and look into the sands. His face was unmoving, even when his friend started speaking again complaining of his cold and cough, the younger Eypharian did not turn to answer.

“What is it you find so fascinating as to not take pity on your teacher?” Came a gruff, throaty question.

Continuing to look off at the shifting stands, both of them saw Adarra atop her horse. Seeing anyone alone in the desert was pause for thought as to their intent, because the desert was not a place to brave lightly alone.

“Ah I see, a woman?” Rhkart inquired, curious now himself.

The younger man frowned slightly irritated, and shook his head, pointing past the lady to where she travelled from. “Sheylavek” Said Kharadish in a mangled form of basic and Arumenic. “Shesa... Sanyla... Sandstorm”, he repeated again in clearer basic, eventually finding the right word. Looking at the wind starting to whip up the particles of sand about them, they were vibrating, striking each other enough to cause a very light smattering of dust, but the really telling sign was the colder wind from the ocean. Kharadish shivered and his teacher said no more, both had seen this a dozen times in their life, only every other time it had been from the safety of a warm bed.

“Come we need to make ready, do you remember those caves I spoke of to the North?”

Kharadish nodded, “We should warn the lady.”

“She is a Benshira at best, a human at worst, you put our lives in danger with any delay.”

Giving a highly disapproving glance to his companion, the younger man was already off walking into the middle of her path to flag her down, followed reluctantly by his older companion, scurrying behind his friend. At first Kharadish spoke in Arumenic, giving Adarra a detailed but completely incomprehensible explanation for why he was in front of the woman, holding his hand up, and pointing behind her. Eventually he scratched his beard, and said “Shylavek, Sandstorm.”

The older man stood by ready to translate between them both, giving a short, curt nod of his head to Adarra, clearly none too happy with the delay to their own safety; Rhkart's hand was on his weapon hilt, unlike Kharadish who gave Adarra a cordial bow, remaining polite and more civil.

OOC :

by **Adarra** on December 10th, 2011, 9:09 pm

Adarra was turned so that her eyes trailed the desert behind her, focused on the wind kicking up a ways away. She knew the signs of a sandstorm, and immediately anxiety overtook her. Where would she go? How would she outrun it? Her horse was fast, yes, but nothing could be faster than that horrifying wall of sand. It would consumed whatever was in its path, and therefore, she could not be in its path.

When Etzyon came to a sudden stop, she lurched forward slightly, whipping around at the sound of a voice. Adarra stared down, wide eyed, at the man before her, her fear increasing tenfold. His six arms caught her attention, along with the various weapons and tensity of his partner. She'd only ever heard of Eypharians, and his sudden appearance frightened her. He was not incredibly tall, but big enough to easily overpower her. She considered running the other way, but the sandstorm came to mind. Terrified, she faced him, left arm inching toward her pack while her right hand was clenched into a white knuckled fist. He spoke, and she barely understood him, responding with a slow nod. He is trustworthy. An inner voice assured her, and she forced another nod in response to his bow. Although she remained tense, she pushed the fear to the recesses of her mind.

"Yes," she breathed in Shiber, then repeated in broken Common, shooting another glance toward the storm. Suddenly, she looked back at the two, concern replacing the anxiety in her expression, "Do you have shelter? You need to hide immediately."

Adarra managed to break her gaze away from the two to scan the eternal sand in search of something, some thread of hope to linger on. She heard a faint cough, and glanced down again, cocking a brow as she examined him. He looked strong, and much older than his friend. However, he was obviously ill.She bit her lower lip, mentally sorting through her vast collection of herbs. She might be able to help him....

You're wasting time. Forcing herself to focus, she turned back to the man directly before her, pointing toward the gathering cloud of sand. "Have you seen anything closeby to go?" She looked toward the older man, "Anywhere at all?" Her voice trembled slightly, which she cursed herself for. The urgency of the situation was beginning to occur to her, and a sense of adrenaline rushed her thoughts.

She was surprised to see the older man turn to the other, speaking to him in a language that she had not heard.

OOC :

by **Kharadish re Lsar** on December 12th, 2011, 12:49 am

The understandably concerned look on Adarra’s face, was met with a steady, calm, yet friendly voice. As she spoke he didn’t understand a word, but nodded politely.

“Dira’s vigilance be upon you.” It was a remarkably clear attempt at common from Kharadish, any less would be a dishonour to his strongest beliefs, and he would never allow such. Given Dira’s reputation as the goddess of death, it might not be obvious to someone outside of his own religion, but in fact it was the most cordial, and respectful greeting he could offer a stranger.

Rhkart did not have Kharadish’s calm demeanour by any stretch of the word, lacking the younger man’s very specific and strong faith, he was much more panicked by the approaching sandstorm than his student. Though not yet in full swing, when the weather came there would be little avoiding the danger out in the open.

After conferring with Kharadish for a moment again in the guttural language of Arumenic, the older man spoke bluntly in common. “There is shelter three dunes to the north,” pausing, he sighed when Kharadish gestured strongly he should say more. “My companion wants to ensure your safety.”

Turning his attention back to the storm, again Rhkart looked on the outsider as little more than a passing presence, to the Eypharian culture no other race was considered very significant in the scheme of things, this was not an intentional insult, just everyday language. Rhkart bent down to cough aside, and the younger male took over from his mentor, offering a polite nod of the head.

“Travel with us, yes?” Kharadish asked the lady, keen to assure she made it there in time out of the coming danger. As with any Eypharian, he believed they were the center of the world, but unlike his friend he knew it was a big world.

Whatever her decision the two men were underway quickly, both were walking as per Kharadish’s vow to Dira, crossing the desert dunes with haste. Eventually the pace was picked up into a run but still an orderly one, it would not do for a servant of Dira, and a gilded first born to flee in panic. Crossing the apex of the third dune, the arid caves were looming in front of them, deep but not particularly hospitable, because there was little light within.

“Come, come. Take shelter.” Kharadish offered a welcome smile to Adarra, trying to put her at ease, when in reality the sandstorm was now readily apparent behind them, very soon anything left up here would certainly feel the harshness of being caught in its path. Rhkart was running as best he could too, though he seemed to be wheezing. Frowning, the younger man put three arms around his friend and they ran together towards safety.

Straight into the deep cavemouth and its uncertain grasp, the now whistling weather was not far behind, wind on their heels, and dry sand at their backs.

OOC :

by **Adarra** on December 13th, 2011, 1:16 am

Adarra hesitated only a moment, then kicked at Etzyon's sides, leaning forward as he plummeted down the next dune. The man's comment came to mind, echoing through her thoughts and adding to her sense of dread. Though it seemed a polite gesture, Dira, the goddess of death, made her uneasy. Though rumored to be honest and peaceful, Adarra knew little about this goddess, as well as her followers. They could be cultist at worst, and unpredictable at best. These were complete strangers, stumbled upon in the wilderness of the Burning Lands. What had led them to such a place? Were they thieves? Merchants? Wanderers like herself? Were they searching for something, or just journeying aimlessly throughout the world? Could they be diplomats? Soldiers? Highwaymen? Criminals?

Questions circled her mind as she followed the two, pressing herself against Etzyon's broad neck to shield her eyes from the wind and sand that he kicked about. She was beginning to realize that, no matter who these men were, she had no choice but to follow them. They could be cannibals or crazed grave robbers for all she knew, but it didn't matter. It made no difference whether they were friend or foe; it was face their unknown identity, or face the coming storm.

The younger man seemed polite, but she'd been taught not to trust nice people on the basis of their kindness. She kept a wary eye on them, though something inside her felt compelled to thank them. She groaned inwardly, scolding herself for being so judgmental. After all, they had gone out of their way to warn her, and save her life. Perhaps she would be safer with the two than out on her own...

As Etzyon picked his way across the dunes, agile as cat, Adarra was able to see less and less. The wind swirled restlessly about, encompassing her in a blinding cloud. She could hear the others' footsteps, however, and soon glanced up to see an approaching shadow. It was tall, out of place in the blank landscape; a gaping mouth offering a black hole in which to hide. She egged Etzyon in its direction, shielding her eyes until she could hear his hooves clopping against rough sandstone. Peering out through her now tangled hair and windblown shawl, she examined the sandy stone walls, carved out by centuries of storms.

Adarra adjusted her position, fixing her shawl as best she could before looking back over her shoulder. She pulled Etzyon to a halt, waiting for the two vague and shrouded figures to approach. It was dark in the cave, darker still due to the gathering cloud of sand at its mouth. Adarra dismounted, digging through one of her saddlebags for a torch. They would need to start a fire immediately, before they lost all available light to the all consuming storm outside.

by **Kharadish re Lsar** on December 13th, 2011, 6:33 pm

Rounding the first corner into the arid structure, enough to shield them from the worst of it, Kharadish placed Rhkart leaning against the far wall. The older man held his hand up to gesture for Kharadish to continue on, though he didn’t look very well at all, sweat dripping off of his face and down his cheek. Dealing with what he could, saving them from the storm was the first priority. Indicating for the others to hang back a short distance, Kharadish held his scimitar firmly outstretched in his hand. The Eypharian acolyte explored every nook or hidden place inside the shelter’s depth, there was little here, and the further in he went the less light was visible. What there was thankfully, was some relief from what would only be Dira’s sure embrace outside.

With the rolling wind battering the walls of this place, sand kicked up into the entrance way more and more, vibrating on top of other sand. The compounding effect was throwing up growing amounts of the desert into the cavemouth. It was dawning on him just how unprepared the two of them were for this trip, he had no wood, nothing to burn. Facing the wrath of this mighty weather, took a kind of courage or faith that could only be known by those who had faced it head on.

Looking around for anything in the cave he found himself in, privileged from his studies and wealthy education, he knew that you needed to be especially carefully when stepping or placing your hands around in the shade. The deeper you were into the desert the more this became true, as any shade was a hive of local insect, snake or scorpion activity.

Holding fast to the wall, Rhkart slumped down the side. “Water, water.” The older Eypharian said to Adarra in common, his voice becoming increasingly throaty, as he reached for his waterskin. He’d been drinking from that same source all day, more and more of late.

Hearing the fading voice of his friend, somewhere from within the darkness, Kharadish was about to shout there was nothing, nothing at all to burn to remove this accursed darkness! He remained calm, despite the situation Dira’s faithful knew it was all relative. Walking deeper into the bowels of this place, if anyone was to face an unseen snakebite or other creature, better it be him than the others, he had brought them to this place and the responsibility was his.

Almost tripping over a small ring of stones, the man’s expression turned to relief. Old firewood, burned but usable, he fumbled around for the flint and steel in his pack. Cracking them together several times, and he began trying to relight the dead embers of what once was shelter to others, there wasn't much here and he doubted it would be enough.

In wait lay four dead bodies, neatly arranged, their bones resting by the fire...

by **Adarra** on December 15th, 2011, 3:19 am

Adarra could make out footsteps, and barely see figures when she peered through the dark. She heard echoing voices, and the cracking of flint on stone, but would never be able to find her way toward the origin of the sound. The two men were there, she knew; she sensed their presence, could hear their breathing. However, she felt very much alone, overcome by a daunting feeling that something was very wrong in this place. Something had happened here, or would happen here, and that unknown terrified her.

At the sound of Rhkart's voice, she hesitated, reaching for a waterskin attached to her saddle. "I have it here, one moment." She was surprised at the volume of her voice as it echoed through the cave. Freeing it from its position, she set it on the ground. She didn't dare wander from Etzyon's side without a source of light.

She forced her eyes shut, sucking in a breath through her nose to calm herself. Yahal, protect me, she inwardly pleaded, I know you are with me. Give me courage.

After a moment, she opened her eyes, rummaging through her saddlebag, once more in search of a torch. She felt wooden corners of boxes and soft, silky pouches against rough leather bags. Nothing the shape of a torch. With a sigh, she leaned against Etzyon, who waited patiently for her to find what she was looking for.

She reached over his back into the other bag, peace falling over her as her fingers brushed against sanded wood. Withdrawing the torch, she felt about for her flint and steel, producing it much more easily from the bag at the back of the saddle. Tucking the unlit torch under her arm, she scraped the flint and steel against each other, creating instantaneous sparks that faded quickly, leaving an eerie glow about her.

It took a moment to light the torch, but she prevailed after a few frantic tries. After adjusting her position, she placed the flint and steel sloppily back in the bag while holding the torch wit ha strait arm. Fire had always made her a bit nervous, as she rarely had the need for it. She held up the torch to eye level, eyes soaking in her surroundings.

Not more than a few seconds later, she caught sight of her new companion, along with four figures lying adjacent to him. She gasped, fear compelling her to step back and lose her footing. Tripping back against Etzyon, she lost her grip on the torch, and she fumbled in an attempt to regain it, but to no avail. It hit the ground with a loud noise, responding throughout the cave. She picked it up immediately, coaxing the dying flame to grow once more. Though it was not what it had been, it lit the cave enough for her to easily make out the shapes of her companions.

Adarra made her way toward the others, towing a reluctant steed by the bridle. She stopped a few feet from Rhkart, setting the waterskin on the ground beside him before making her way toward Kharadish. Hesitating just at the edge of the fire pit, her eyes were glued to the four figures to her left. Without averting her gaze from them, she stretched out her arm, offering the torch to the six-armed man.

"I would like to examine your friend," she muttered, "he seems ill." After waiting for a reply, she frowned, suddenly recalling his lack of common language. Though hers was a bit awkward, she knew that she was communicating thoroughly, and concluded that he must be the ignorant party. She shot a glance toward Rhkart, curious. Leading Etzyon toward the cave wall, she let go of his bridle, stroking his side before walking back to the older man. "Is there anything else you need?" She asked, kneeling beside him. "Once we get a fire, I'll make you some tea. You need to drink fluids and rest, your lungs are too constricted."

by **Kharadish re Lsar** on December 16th, 2011, 1:58 am

The gift Adarra gave Rhkart was no small gesture to a culture that considered water worth many a man's life. The old man was grateful, and Kharadish was humbled to see Adarra reaching out. Even through that stubborn Eypharian self centered nature, that the older man surrounded himself in, she rose above it, much like his voice tried to raise above the howling winds attempting to drown him out.

“You give too much.” Kharadish said to Adarra in common, fully prepared to repay the offer of water if they lived through this, for now that drink she had given to a stranger might be the very one she would lack before getting a refill, every drop was precious.

Kharadish also looked upon his friend closely, squatting down the opposite side. Grasping his companion's two good left arms, he removed his helmet, and looked into Rhkart’s eyes, feeling his brow which seemed to be heating up quite rapidly, a dangerous thing in the desert.

“Our journey is just beginning, now is not the time to leave our duty to Dira half done.” There was a warm smile from Kharadish, he was trying his best to raise his companion’s spirits. Speaking in a higher version of Arumenic, a beautiful and fascinating noble form of Arumenic, heavily laden with gestures from all his limbs, all it received was a snort from his companion, who replied in common.

“Trust you to use guilt on an old man.” Rhkart turned to Adarra adding, “I think he says it is my duty not to die.” With heavy breaths, Rhkart almost laughed but it was a bit too painful.

The drink for once did not make the man cough, unlike every sip of water he had been drinking recently, and it actually quenched his thirst. Kharadish was quick to trust, some might say a failing in his need to see the best in people, all races especially non Eypharians, he would struggle to look for a better nature beneath even the harshest of personalities. So when Adarra offered the kindness of course he assumed she was telling the truth, whatever her true motivations were.

“I will be fine.” Rhkart replied to Adarra stubbornly, but clearly he wouldn’t be fine if whatever ailed him continued to do so.

“If you can help him, I will owe you more than even water can repay.” Kharadish said in common, though it sounded more like a jumbled acceptance, with words that almost hit their true meanings, yet held a sincere tone nonetheless. There was something in the way she acted that spoke to him, something worth believing in, calling it the musings perhaps of a poetic heart who had too much of a sheltered life, but there it was all the same.

Kharadish stood up from them both to tend to the fire, taking his time to remove the bodies from around it, one by one very carefully laying them to rest at the edges of the cave, privately out of sight. This was a duty that Dira did with the spirit, all he could do in her service was to do the same for the mortal shell that was left, they deserved that much.

The dim fire might not last too long, not unless he had something else to burn, he looked around for anything he could throw on it, there had to be something here! Finally blessed he was, an old knapsack, hand woven. There was nothing in it but dust, and stone. The fire welcomed the fuel, catching the edge of the material it roared for a time, brightening up their surroundings noticeably.

by **Adarra** on December 18th, 2011, 1:36 am

As light danced off of the walls, Adarra got a better look at the older man. He was pale and looked weak, his eyes dimmed and darkened by exhaustion. She shook her head in response to his claim, settling into a seated position beside him and delicately placing an open palm on his forehead.

At Kharadish's offer, she smirked, shooting a glance up at him, "You saved my life. It is I who should repay you." She teased, turning back to Rhart. "Relax your head, lean back against the stone... It will cool your temperature." She withdrew her hand and motioned to the water skin, encouraging him to drink more as she stood.

Hurrying across the cave to Etzyon, she bent slightly, untying his saddle from beneath his belly and pulling it off. She was barely able to hold it for the short amount of time that she did, and she dropped it to the floor, bags attached. After digging through her saddlebags, she produced a small wooden box and a leather pouch, then stood to brush her steed's shoulder.

Soon, she was seated beside Rhkart again, setting the box and pouch in her lap. She opened the box, pulling out a small, steel teapot and setting it aside. She then carefully took out a clay cup, setting it beside her and reaching for the pouch. Within it were a variety of tiny boxes and pouches, each labeled with bold writing in Shiber. She fingered through them, producing a couple and placing various leaves, roots, dried fruits, and nuts into the pot. Reaching for the water skin, she politely took it from Rhkart, pouring a bit into the pot and giving it back to him.

"Relax," she ordered, quiet but firm, "try to rest and keep drinking." Standing and spinning, she lifted the pot and made her way to the fire. She produced a friendly smile for Kharadish, setting the pot on the edge of the fire pit to heat. She sat down, glancing toward Rhkart with concern. "Your friend is sick..." She muttered, turning back to Kharadish. "What has he eaten today?" Her hands moved from her lap to her mouth, mimicking the action of eating. She didn't know what the man would understand, but she hesitated to act out what she was trying to say. She didn't want to come across as impolite.

Her new patient was a curiosity, and she looked over him once more. The old man seemed to have a low grade fever, with a bronchial infection. She deduced that he was not sick due to the desert, due to their ability to navigate the dunes and foresee a sandstorm. The cause would stem from something he consumed and ingested, most likely. Unless he was bitten by a wild snake, though his symptoms were rare in accordance with such a source. She unconsciously bit her lip as she mentally listed all the possible causes of such symptoms.

Looking to the younger man for a response, she realized that she never formally introduced herself, nor learned his name. Though their differing language was a bit of a hinderance, and their situation severe, she felt as if she should have. She dismissed the thought, however, knowing that the time would come for such a question. Now, she would focus on keep his companion alive, and hopefully help him recover. They could be in the cave for a only an hour, or up to a few days.