Sandstorm Aftermath

The sand was pervasive, nary a wrinkle of cloth or fold of skin went left untouched by the course grains. Voah's throat was dry as a bone and she could barely speak and her stomach was giving her hunger pangs. Food could wait, she had fasted for longer, but water was a dire necessity. Looking around at the ruination, they could see that nearrly half of their numbers had diminished. Some missing, some dead. They even saw what looked like bodies buried beneath the sand.

Voah did not appreciate nor relish the new unwelcoming looks that were sent their way. Contemplating this, the insightful ex-arbiter intuited the expressions to be those of regret, fear and mistrust.

She considered the merchant caravaners' position on the matter and could not help but feel a slight hint of guilt about the possibility that perhaps it was she indeed who had incurred the wrath of some deity and brought forth this misfortune onto all of them; that the people of this land were colateral damage by proxy of accepting her, a foreigner, as guest into their attendance.

A natural humanitarian, Voah wanted to help them recover from this and clean up the devastation left behind. There was little they could do if these people rejected them from the caravan and if they did so, Voah and Gonyaul would have to do their best to follow behind at a distance until they reached the safety of the Holy City, lest they be left to wander the great desert alone and risk joining the ubiqituous strands of bones and open graves.

For now she would confer with her fiance and when they were finished checking on the group they would search for their own supplies that had been carried away and scattered by the intense winds.