Spirit of the Desert

Great Desert of Skulls

The arid and sunburnt barren land of the eternal desert stretching for miles and miles ahead of Islana.
The intense sun blazes down on this harsh yet amazingly beautiful wilderness of golden sand and red rocks, and looking all around her she could tell how it had shaped and sculpted her people into what they were.

Her advisers had explained to her that they would be travelling across the main southern Septs oasis. There did not only they would gather more men but make use of the larger water sources.

Once they reached the Rarak Sept they need to decide which path the Horde would travel next. That had not been decide yet and she was not sure what to do. Strategy was new to her. Especially involving thousands of warriors.

She had not made a decision yet if they would travel to Fang or south to a village called Desdem.

The landscape was ever changing, with its shimmering great dunes and every time your eyes wander back to study the distant landscape it seems as if it were merely a projection of the horizon. It almost feels unreal.

A commotion to her left brough her back from her thoughts. She had not noticed but although she was walking among her people, slowly but surely everyone gave her a wide berth. She would soon realise that for the Ozainae she was a divine figure and she would often find herself alone even when she did not want to be.

She looked to group of men that were pointing and shouting to a nearby dune. She understood they had seen something and saw they gathering spears and notching arrows to bows. Using this opportunity she moved quickly towards the group knowing her personal retinue would not be too far off.

Cresting over the dune dozens of yards from the left flank of the Horde was a figure she thought she would not see again.

The Sk'elep.

Around her the men shouted and cursed and ready to loose their bolts on the creature.