hide your heart and speak another [angmor!]

[beryl]

When she had left her comely little village, Delwyn had been completely confident in her ability to use the desert's landscape to her advantage. Or, more appropriately, the young woman was aware that as long as she kept the sight of the village behind her, she would most likely be heading north. But the collection of houses was quickly receding into the distance, growing hazy and distant, especially with the setting of the sun. The Chieftans - and her family, especially - had stressed upon the importance of keeping time, because they had given her the bare minimum of supplies for fear of not having enough to give her any more.

Delwyn was not a magic user. She could not spontaneously summon water from the great depths underneath the Hadarac Desert and, as such, the wineskin tied to her waist was uncomfortably heavy - a weight on both her conscience and her body. As a person who was so used to the heat, too, and having a home to shelter from the dry, chilling nights of the desert, the darkening streaks across the golden horizon were looking increasingly ominous. There was a chill that pervaded the normally baking tempests of the desert that made her shiver.

Without a doubt, she knew that it was high time to find shelter to set up camp if she was to stave off the cold of the desert night. At the very least, however, she could afford another hour or so of travel. She needed to make her trip in haste and idle dawdling would not help, nor would getting lost. The journey would take long enough as it was. One didn't simply cross the Hadarac Desert in but a few days.

In what seemed like very little time, the sun disappeared completely behind the looming presence of the Beor Mountains and the world was engulfed in what seemed like complete darkness for a while. When the tribal woman looked up, the silhouette of a dragon trailed languorously across the sky, barely the size of an eagle, seeming to bring with it the path of the moon, which lit up the ground ceremoniously. While it did not bring heat, it brought light, and such was enough to make the creases on Delwyn's brow fade, if only a little, though the wind keened as if in objection.

Unfortunately for her, she miscalculated how much she had traveled and when the female sought to confirm the direction she was going, the sudden absence of her village on the horizon was enough to make her blood run cold. Without the faintest idea of where she should be going, in all retrospect, it was a fine reason for the girl to panic. But she had been brought up with confidence and so had confidence in herself. She did not throw tantrums with only 'being-lost' as a reason. The thought, however, brought her situation into sharper detail and it was all she could do not to let herself lose control.

"I can just set up camp now..." She mumbled to herself, as if a corporal presence was standing right by her, catching sight of the small swell of ground ahead of her that could serve as a good shelter.

"Yes, this is the perfect time to set up camp. I can find my bearings tomorrow. Yes," Quite in denial, Delwyn shrugged the small pack from her shoulders, pulling out the animal skin that would act as a roof over her head. Storing her things at the base of the knoll, she began searching for the dry sticks that would start her fire and support her tent.

[Angmor]

If Teiris had ever visited a fortune-teller, and had heard the story of his own life foretold to him, he would have thought the seer to be certifiably mad. Never in his life would he have imagined that he would fall from privilege to slavery on the whims of a fickle government, or that he would be kidnapped and tortured by a perverted death-cult, or especially that he would find a way to escape, and survive for many months as a fugitive, hunted by every Paladin, guard and bounty-hunter who crossed his path. But even after living through all those events, if that same theoretical seer had told him that he would one day be trekking across the Hadarac Desert, he still would not have believed it. And yet here he was, trudging onward, trying to control his his heavy breathing as he labored his way across the sand.

It was, as he had reflected countless times, a crazy world.

The events that had led him here were a perfect example. Three months ago, almost immediately after a situation in Teirm that had almost cost him his life, Teiris had been approached by a man named Gaius Nareth, a man carrying with him a very interesting offer. Nareth was the leader of a small group of criminals, mercenaries, and master thieves, specializing in small-scale but highly difficult operations. After monitoring the situation in Teirm, he found himself extremely impressed with how Teiris had handled himself. As such, Nareth offered a deal. He and his band would offer him food, a place to stay, valuable training, and protection from his enemies. In return, all that was asked was loyal service. At the time, Teiris had been too wary of the catch to accept. He didn't want any part of that way of life, even if it meant protection from those hunting him. All he had wanted was a place to hide where he would be left alone, somewhere he could settle and live the rest of his life like any other man. A short time later, he had thought he had discovered such a place in the form of a tiny settlement on the edge of the Ramr River, composed of less than thirty people who had never even heard of Teiris Vorthain, escaped slave and murderer. He had lived there for several weeks, believing that his nightmare was finally over.
Of course, he had been wrong.
The Hand did of course find him again, and they came for him. But instead of merely chasing him, that had slain everyone in the settlement who had so much as spoken with him. Teiris had escaped by letting the river carry him away, but the screams of the dying in his wake rang in his ears even now. It was at that moment when he finally realized; he could no longer afford to run. Everywhere he went, he brought only destruction and death with him. He knew now what he had to do; he had to fight back. He had to destroy the Hand.
He had to kill Malandra Ramakrishna.

Since that time, he had been under the protection of Nareth and his group, absorbing a fantastic amount of new skills and disciplines from the talented individuals assembled there, all of whom were happy to show him their tricks and answer his questions. Even with all of the information being thrown at him, he found that his eidetic memory allowed him to retain everything he was being told. He had only to see something once before he could duplicate the action, although not perfectly without first gaining practice. While they sometimes found his abilities uncanny, they all for the most part accepted him with open arms. Everyone except Riggs.
Riggs was Nareth's second in the group, a former agent of the Broddring government, trained to be the king's personal assassin and spy. He had left that life behind when he had observed the growing madness of his master, but had retained the startling amount of skills and knowledge he had gained from a lifetime of service. Upon meeting Teiris, he had apparently decided that he would be a mentor, but he would not be a friend, treating Teiris with sharp words and harsh assessment of his work. Even so, Teiris learned more from Riggs than he had from almost anyone, spending hours upon hours learning the arts of stealth and subterfuge, of survival and victory amid the harshest circumstances imaginable, and of course, the methods of martial combat. For two months he trained, until finally, it seemed that Riggs believed he was ready for a test.
"There's a spot many days march into the desert,"Riggs explained, "Marked by a high arch of stone. It looks almost like a gateway, standing in the the middle of a field. Under that arch is buried a small chest, and in that chest is a steel medallion with a symbol carved into it. Taking only what I give you, you'll journey out there, find the medallion, replace it with another, and bring the original back to me."
"How will you know I didn't just buy it from a passing jeweler?" Teiris asked, hiding his alarm at the prospect of traveling the desert.
"I should know the medallion, considering that I'm the one who put it there. At about your age, too. This trial as been used to prove the worth of many Broddring spies and agents over the years. I figure if it's good enough for them, it's good enough for me. Don't come back without that medallion, if you expect further training from me."
Teiris nodded carefully. After a moment, he couldn't resist one last question. "Will I have everything I need?"
"Boy," Riggs answered, fixing him with a stern look. "Finding that out is the whole point of the test."
Just then, Teiris' foot met with something hard, wrenching him away from the memory as he fought to maintain his balance. He managed to catch himself with his sturdy walking stick, glancing down hurriedly for the offending obstacle.
Luckily, it was only a large stone.
Dammit, Teiris, He berated himself, blowing out a deep breath. What if that had been a snake? Or something even worse? The desert, he had learned early on, was not forgiving to people who didn't pay attention.

Squaring his shoulders, Teiris stopped for a moment to catch his breath and get his bearings, adjusting the straps of of the goods hanging on his back and side. As promised, he had taken nothing with him besides what Riggs had packed for him, which turned out to be mostly consumables like food and water. As such, his packs were now much lighter than they had been starting out, which was both a blessing and an ominous reminder. Beyond that, his greatest weight was that of the short compound bow strapped to the quiver of arrows on his back, as well as a few other odds and ends, such as the simple navigation equipment. As Riggs had told him, few landmarks stayed permanent in the shifting sands of the desert, and so the only reliable way to navigate was by the stars. He had been shown a few basic techniques for doing this, as well as given a general position of his objective. Of course, it was still too Early in the evening to take a reading. He looked up, shielding his eyes with one hand as he looked sidelong as the sun sank through the dusky sky, highlighting the shadows of the footprints left behind him. He had quickly learned that the best time to move was the late evening and early morning, when the desert sands were cooling off rather than heating up. He had continued in that pattern since, moving at night and resting in the height of the sun's heat, using whatever shade he could find. It had taken a day or so for his body to adjust to the new schedule, but now he had the added perk of always being awake for the sunset.
It was beautiful.
Finally, he shook his head. Break time was over. It was time to get moving while the elements were still kind.

As he trudged onward, using his walking stick to speed his passage across the valleys and up the dunes, full night gradually fell around him. Teiris, ever the city-dweller, was still amazed just how dark it would get around here. Without any artificial light to interfere, the moonlight was practically a lantern for his steps. And as his night-vision developed even further, the simple act of looking up would reveal to him the presence of countless points of light, more stars than he had ever seen or even imagined before. Which was why, as he crested a large dune that provided an elevated view of the plain, the flickering orange light of a fire came as a surprise.
Before he could think, Teiris dropped onto his stomach beneath the crest of the dune, hiding himself from the sight of whoever was down there. It seemed a reasonable assumption. From his brief experience in the desert, it did not seem possible that enough flammable material could be concentrated for a fire to be natural. That left only the possibility that someone had gathered it. As he considered his options, the recollection of Riggs' voice echoed through his thought.
Stay cautious. Gather intel, then decide how to act.

Nodding to himself, Teiris crawled carefully up the side of the dune, poking his head cautiously over the top. He was confident that he would not be spotted. The light tunic and pants he was wearing were spun of rough, tan-grey cloth, as was the heavier cloak that hung around his shoulders. Even better, the head-wrap Riggs had shown him how to tie covered his head and face, leaving only a slit for his eyes. He had discovered the purpose for this during the sandstorm he had experienced on the second day, but now he found that it also made excellent camouflage. Moving carefully, he moved his hand to his belt-pouch, removing the small copper spyglass he had been given for checking the stars. As with the headwrap, it would now serve a different purpose. Fitting the spyglass carefully to his eye, he surveyed the scene before him with the longer range the lenses afforded.

It was a campsite, that much was certain. He was just able to make out the pack set on the ground near the fire, and of course the neat angles of the firewood. For several minutes however, it appeared that the place was abandoned.
Ah, there we go,
Suddenly there was a human shape, backlight darkly by the fire. Even with the spyglass, he could make out very little details, but he speculated that it might be a female. The figure had that kind of grace about it, that sort of surety of limb that seemed to come naturally to women. He shook his head. That was hardly relevant right now, a better question was whether or not the figure was well and truly alone. That would indicate if he was looking at a fellow traveler... or a trap for one. He watched for several minutes, seeing the figure slowly banking up the fire. This done, they they set about setting up some kind of shelter. Throughout it all, Teiris could catch no sign of any other movement. He was as certain as he could be that the figure was the only person down there. Putting away the spyglass, he considered his options. It would be the easiest thing in the world to go around the campsite, and avoid any kind of confrontation. On the face of it, that seemed the wisest course. And yet, doing so might very well be passing up on vital information. The signs were already there: He was at least a few days from his objective, and according to his calculations, there was no way his consumables would last him that far no matter how he constricted his rations. Perhaps the figure below was a seasoned desert traveler, and might be able to tell him how he might go about the business of survival out here. Of course, that brought its own questions with it; Was the person a native? Would they be hostile to outsiders? Would they even speak the same language? He silenced the doubts. Carefully planning was well and good, but eventually, there was only one way to find out. This decided, he stood up, carefully making his way down the dune and toward the light of the fire.

It took him longer to reach than he had expected. With the cooling desert sands making the air shimmer and dance before him, distances were deceptive. Of course, it probably made him much more difficult to spot. Teiris sank into a crouch, moving smoothly but cautiously, just the way Riggs had shown him, trusting to his clothing to blend into the landscape. Finally, he was right on the edge of the light. He lingered there for a moment, watching. The figure, much closer now, was sitting cross-legged before the fire, its back not quite to him, but apparently unknowing of his presence.
Last chance to back out of it. Teiris thought. Thinking of his ever-lightening packs, and conscious of the weight of the long, curved knife at his side, he squared his shoulders and stepped into the light, his hands held slightly away from his sides.
"Nice evening we're having, don't you think?"

[/blockquote]

So... About half of this is exposition. I now realize that I need to update Teiris' history. XD

[beryl]

She was grateful for the activity. Even Delwyn wasn't ignorant enough to be unconscious of the fact that if one was to remain warm on a cold night, they were to remain active. Moving around so much kept her warm and the thought of a crackling fire helped to distract her mind from ominous thoughts of death and suffering. The trip was as much of a vacation as it was an important journey and, preoccupied with gathering wood as she was, she could almost forget that a mighty weight rested upon her shoulders. In an odd way, living in a desert was a merit to those who were brave enough to do so; with sweltering heat in the day time and subzero temperatures at night, it was an even more alien terrain than an ice-field. Though she wasn't really to know. Delwyn had never ventured beyond the Hadarac Desert's sandy borders in her life.

With an ease borne of familiarity, the desert woman began setting up camp, arranging the dried wood in a cone shape for the fire. If there had been anyone looking at her, she would have been unaware, so caught up in her ministrations was she. It took a moment for her to realize that being on her own only spurred the harder path for near every little action. She no longer had other people making fires, nor magicians to summon flames at their desire with but a word. Nay, she supposed she would have to work to get her heat, and with a long-suffering sigh, she got to work. It was, she supposed, good experience, and that the extra work would keep her warm where a fire could not, but it was still difficult to scrounge up enough motivation to stay on the positive side of things.

The tinder wasn't exactly dry, but it would suffice and, with a hum of contemplation, Delwyn began to strike the flint, calmly picking it up whenever it was dropped. She knew irritation would not aid her efforts and refused to succumb to frustration. Eventually, after many tries, the flint ignited for the last time, and the sparks that had gathered on the tinder finally began to kindle. Elated, the young woman grinned, blowing gently on it until her face was wrought with a warm glow and she leaned away from the delicious heat. The flames danced and crackled, eliciting a sigh of contentment from Delwyn. She leaned back on her elbows, crossing her legs. Her tent had yet to be set up, but that could wait for a while. She was so accustomed to warmth that she was quite overwhelmed by the fire and couldn't summon up the energy to move.

She let her eyes fall closed, an indulgent smile on her features, humming softly and completely oblivious to the stranger who approached. That's not to say, however, was not alert; indeed, she was straining her ears noise and yet she still did not hear his footfalls over the merry crackling of the fire. Delwyn startled hugely when his voice reached her, choking on the melody she had been humming and scrambling backwards. Wide-eyed, she blinked owlishly at the newcomer, her hand trembling where she had hastened to grasp at the knife at her thigh. He almost looked supernatural, or cerebral, garbed as he was. The girl strained to see his features and realized with a start that only his eyes were visible over the shawl that was wrapped around him. Her heart fell, suddenly, and she felt a chill wash over her despite the heat from the fire.

" Are you a spirit? " She asked suddenly, half in awe, half frightened; because generally, they didn't appear for impromptu visits as he seemed to be doing. His casual question seemed horribly out-of-place yet, fearing his wrath, she swallowed her fear and answered.

" I- Um... Yes, I suppose... Chilly. " She allowed, her brow furrowing. Well, this was terribly odd. Delwyn was normally a courteous person, but even she struggled to find something to say. Words didn't come naturally to her tongue when it was a desert spirit who was speaking to her. Pursing her lips, she shifted to the side a little, as if there wasn't already enough room and patted the ground next to her.

" Feel free to take a seat- Um... Spirit, sir... " Awkwardness radiating from her, Delwyn grunted as she reached for her pack, pulling it towards her. She retrieved two strips of dried meat and the rabbit's foot she tended to carry everywhere with her, though the latter she tucked into her side. She didn't want to appear impolite, after all.

With a smile, she held out one strip to him, preferring not to think about how silly it was for her to be his generous when she could not afford to be.

[Angmor]

The reaction was gratifying, if not unexpected. The girl, and he could see now that it was a girl, broke off her soft humming with a startled squeak, scrambling backward at the sight of the sudden apparition before her. Teiris tensed, watching her reach for something, waiting for the glint of metal that would indicate an attack. Her fingers closed around something at her waist, but something made her stop before the weapon left its sheath. Teiris waited, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible while still remaining ready to defend himself. Finally, the girl spoke, her wide eyes finding his again after traversing him searchingly.
"Are you a spirit?" She asked, her tone halfway between awed and fearful. Teiris was so surprised that he could not immediately think of a response. A spirit? Why on earth would she think...
The answer occurred to him an instant later, prompting a flood of sheepish guilt. When he had approached, he had forgotten to uncover his face, leaving only his grey, lifeless eyes exposed, a feature that many found disturbing even without a fairly sinister headwrap.
" I- Um... Yes, I suppose... Chilly," the girl said, agreeing to a statement that Teiris had nearly forgotten he'd made. Apparently feeling the need to make more room for him on the very empty space surrounding them, she scooted to the side, patting a spot in the sand beside her. " Feel free to take a seat- Um... Spirit, sir... "
Again before Teiris could speak, she stretched out for her belongings, as if relishing the excuse to look away from him, and perhaps thinking that he might be gone when she looked back his direction. Teiris almost wished he could be. With how flustered he was to the allusion to being a spirit, he could only imagine how frightened she would be actually believing he was one.

But then, on second thought, was that such a bad thing? After all, he had come here for information and possibly directions. For all he knew, this woman might try to cheat him, or give him faulty information. It had happened to him before, and he had suffered for it. Out here, a wrong turn could be even more disastrous. Perhaps she would be more wary of misleading him if she believed that an angered spirit might appear from nowhere to exact revenge.
Teiris wavered a moment, but then decided. Hiding his own discomfort, he sat down a short distance away from his host, settling himself cross-legged in the sand. "Thank you," He said as pleasantly as he could manage, accepting the offered object before he could identify it. A strip of dried meat, as it turned out. Good. With his free hand, he pulled down the portion of his headwrap that covered the lower half of his face, exposing what he hoped was a gentle smile. "Please, forgive my sudden appearance. I didn't want to startle you, and I mean you no harm. I just saw your fire from a distance, and wished to warm myself for a time. As for what I am... I am not from this place, and I have traveled here from a great way off. So I suppose that you might call me a spirit, if that helps in your thinking of me."
In all the stories Teris had read, supernatural beings almost never thought of themselves as such. He decided that the spirit he would pretend to be would be much like those of his childhood stories; enigmatic, but not in a way that was too unsettling. A spirit, but a friendly one.
"You may call me Teiris, if you like," He said calmly. "What may I call you?"

[/blockquote]