We really had very little to go on except for names. It might be impossible in the case of Syndial. Over 600 years ago and he was Human. In our favor, Kruklig is primarily an Orc city and Humans stand out. Syndial also left Kruklig under a cloud of controversy and infamy. Would it be remembered?
Lasca would be different, she was much more recent and young for an Elf. She was also incredibly beautiful, and that attracts attention and spurs memories. It made finding Veralia as easy as it could be. Perhaps we'll get lucky again.
Our guides from the Sand Elf caravan will be Ravin Yurkiz and his daughter Brevid. We know little about them except that they come at the recommendation of Mister Plogue who has dealt with them on various missions crossing the Waste.
Janiver had the necessary six scrolls prepared. We had plenty of money but weren't to show it. As far as anyone was to know, we were simply looking for a location where we could make and sell amber jewelry.
We would be working out of an inn called Tyner's Rest which was ideally located between the city center and the docks. For two royals a day we had private rooms and two meals, breakfast and supper. It was also a clean and well-reputed establishment with exceptional service.
We planned to depart near sundown. The caravan was scheduled to roll into Kruklig early in the evening. Our knapsacks were full and anything else we might need we could buy in Kruklig.
It was time to depart, but I couldn't find May. While Margrin and Janiver waited, I went back to our rooms to see if I could track her down. I wasn't leaving without saying goodbye.
And there she was, sitting on the edge of our bed with her face in her hands. I went to sit and put my arm around her.
“I'm going to miss you terribly, May. It seems we haven't had enough time together to be parting company so soon."
She was sobbing gently but her composure would always be there.
"I love you so very much, My Prince. I'm so worried about you going all that way, knowing nothing about the East Coast or what demons you're liable to scare up bringing up a name like Syndial’s. He certainly has agents all over.”
"I love you too, Dearest. Don't you ever forget it. And you'll just need to trust in me. I know my incompetence shows more often than it should, but I'm aware of the stakes here and will be as discreet as possible. We can't be at ease about any of this. This is about the forces of good surviving. No less.”
"I must make an admission, My Love. I was initially attracted to you due to your appearance. Even with the beard. But you're so much more than what I gave you credit for, and I'm thankful to have the chance to find that out.”
I wiped the tears from her eyes and kissed her deeply. It was going to be hard being without her. But I couldn't rush this mission. The trail we were on would lead us to some important discoveries and eventually to a path to victory over the evil that was threatening us.
“Come, May, and see us off. Hopefully this shan't take us longer than is necessary to get the information we need, and I can get back with you.”
"I'll be here another two days then I'll head back to Nez Ambril. If you're gone too long, I'll have your hide. And keep your eyes off of those Sand Elf women!”
We were to meet our caravan at a place called the Daggers, apparently a well-known rendezvous point. We had been told the Waste could be very cold at night, even in the middle of summer as we were. We were all in what we were told was standard Bedouin clothing.
Last goodbyes were said, scrolls were read, and we appeared in the Waste as soon as the reading was done.
Wind howled about us, blowing sand and dust and small fragments of rock like sling bullets. Wrapping our faces and donning protective goggles, we had a look about.
No one was there yet. You could immediately spot the Daggers — several orange-red rock formations rising to sharp points against the purpling sky as the sun faded behind us in the West. And what a glorious vision that was.
With all the dust blowing about, the usual glowing orange fireball eclipsing on the horizon was a pink and yellow swirl of flame. Oh, and it was cold.
I tightened my robe about me to fight the chill. We had to hope Ravin and Brevin Yurkiz weren't far off. Then, faintly over the wind, we could hear a call coming from near the Daggers and saw two figures waving at us from just around one of the jutting spires. We gathered our things and rushed over.
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The couple was dressed as we were, and they were motioning us to follow them. Doing so, we ducked behind the rock formations from where they appeared and disappeared. Remarkably, the wind dropped immediately to a light breeze and we could see that there were several horse drawn wagons and several other robed and hooded figures milling about a fine fire they had put together in the middle of the circle of wagons.
“Ravin and Brevin?" I asked.
“Yes, travelers," the larger one who I assumed to be Ravin answered, “come and stand by the fire. We will be here for a little while until the , the sand storm, dies down.”
"A fire would be most welcome, Sir, thank you!”
Leading us that way, he said “Shadez, my niece is brewing some good, strong Sand Elf tea for us, flavored with goat’s milk and honey. It's tradition that we drink together to celebrate new meetings.”
We removed our goggles and face wraps as our hosts were doing. Ravin, the father, looked to be about middle aged, his slightly curly, close cropped black hair had flecks of gray and was oiled back. Sand Elves have what is described as an olive complexion, clear amber eyes. They're a beautiful people.
Brevid looked to be in her early 100s, her long black hair oiled and done up in braids. You could see her father in her. I had heard stories of the beauty of Sand Elf women and they didn't do justice to what I was seeing. Those eyes stabbed right through you.
“This storm was unexpected," Ravin claimed. “We have Witches who are expert at divining events like this far ahead of time. We don't know your purpose. We didn't ask. But I guess you already know that there are forces at work to thwart you."
I was a little perplexed, "It seems like rather a minor inconvenience doesn't it? I mean I'm no master of the sands, but it seems like no one is getting hurt.”
"You must look at the bigger picture Mister …”
"Oh, apologies, Mister Yurkiz. I am Prince Tendil, Queen May's consort. The young lady here is Janiver Phinriel, a Wizard of great power. And the gentleman is Margrin Ephysieryón, the kingdom's Secretary of State.”
"Very well, Your Majesty, what you fail to realize is that we can't travel in this. So, if time was needed say to get someone out of Kruklig before you arrive, then this will give them the time they need. We are safe, as far as I can tell, but it does confound your plans to a degree, yes?”
"I see your point, Mister Ravin.”
"You may refer to me, Your Majesty, as Your Highness. I am a prince among my people. My father is the Sultan Drawani, III. You may similarly address my daughter, Her Highness Princess Brevid.”
I was momentarily caught off guard. "Again, apologies, Your Highnesses, we didn't expect to be meeting royalty out here.”
"It's quite alright, Prince Tendil. We are a nomadic people. We spend the majority of our time on these Trade Roads. We do have what one might call a home, but you will never see it. The outside world is not welcome there and we take precautions to ensure that stays just so.”
"That's totally understandable, Your Highness. You live in an unwelcoming world in the Waste.”
The Prince said proudly, "Now that is subject to change. We've already taken the Gnoll fort which we'll pass on our way into Kruklig. While they are in their current state of transition, don't be surprised if we don't soon have Yis-Gláz as well.”
"Ah, but not with Carca there on the throne.” Things were becoming more clear.
"She just needs time. A goddess has no need of a temporal throne, but she hasn't yet fully realized what she's become. This isn't her plane any longer. She's still attached to concepts like gold and flesh, heh.”
I didn't want to put a damper on things, but I had to say “She seems rather attached to the Gnolls, Your Highness. I think she was jealous of the absolute control Mag'stula had over them."
“My Prince," he said, “she is Death. She will have worshipers by the thousands with or without the Gnolls, and they will provide her with all the power she needs. She is just vulnerable for the time being while her power settles on her and she feels safe in Yis-Gláz.”
"How long will it be before she's at her full power,” I asked.
Brevid chose to answer that one, "Six months, maybe a year, Your Majesty. If things continue apace, that is. If there is an event that creates many deaths — a plague or war — she will grow much more quickly.”
I wasn't sure if I should be saying it or not, but “We need to end her while we can. Death cannot be an evil being, and that's what she'll be under the Black King. It can't stand."
“Prince Tendil, you throw these names around as if they had no power unto themselves. Those names carry weight, an evil weight, if you keep being so cavalier with them, evil will come to us.”
And it was then that we heard the flapping of leathery wings. Not in the numbers we heard in Sandlise, but there were only ten or so of us making up this caravan.
Ravin yelled "To arms my ,
And then we saw, under all those robes, these warriors were clad in beautifully wrought scale mail, each of them wielding two scimitars.
I could see that our attackers weren't the same devils we had encountered before. They were cobras with leathery wings and legs ending in sharp talons. And they screamed as they came in on us.
No one in our party was armed or armored, but Ravin said "Over there, Your Majesty, in that supply wagon, more weapons. Arm yourselves!”
He needn't have told Janiver who had unleashed a fireball into the middle of the beasts as they began to circle us.
Brevid called out, “These are spirits of the fire, Ma'am! Your flames will do no good.”
She then stepped forward, uttered a few words, and made a motion as if she was throwing a boulder into the flapping, screaming mass. A ball of crackling lightning quickly formed and exploded in a mass of arcing bolts that went from one screeching, flying devil to the next. Wings sizzled and withered. Long sinuous shapes contorted, became rigid, and fell from the sky, falling about the caravan, thumping into the sand.
The devils that survived flitted off into the darkening sky, leaving us all to stare in awe at Brevid.
“Aye," said Ravin, “my daughter is an accomplished Sorceress who doesn't like to see her father wet his blades!”
"You've wetted your blades plenty enough in your life, Father, and you'll have more chances in the future. Save it for the White Queen and her Gnolls.”
Ravin sighed, “Find your places, my , we roll in two minutes, the storm has lifted."