The cloth he’d tied over his mouth did little to keep the dust away.  It flew all around him, browning his face and stinging his eyes as he moved through the valley.  The noxious fumes that seeped from various cracks in the high stone walls didn’t help much either.  Each time he walked closer to one he focused as hard as he could to a spot far ahead of it so that he could teleport there rather than walk passed it.  Even with his good health and magick he didn’t want to press his luck with this sort of thing.  Hopefully after today he wouldn’t need to come back for a long while.
 
He felt a little foolish venturing here alone, especially considering his destination always warned to bring someone of dragonic descent.  But he didn’t want to endanger anyone else for his own wants.  It felt wrong going into a place of death, but he needed just one dragon’s fang.  They were sold in markets but he didn’t like taking his chances with the possibility of paying poachers and encouraging their sadistic profession.  At least these mighty souls would have died naturally, or…well, as naturally as a dragon could die.  Likely at the talons of another, or poor health.  Considering that, despite all of that, dragons still lived for quite some time gave him hope: the energy in their fangs would be tremendous.
 
This would lend itself to hefty power, and while there was a chance the energy would be aggressive he actually wanted it for defense.  It would do well to use it in crafting a new weapon meant for protection, or possibly a salve for healing if he could find the right person to teach him how to go about such a thing.  But those things could only happen if he was able to actually find the graveyard.  And not just find it, make it inside unscathed on top of that.  He wasn’t one to wave off superstitions or any warning, especially when it came to something he’d yet to actually experience.

He looked up at the sky, shoulders sagging in light frustration as he realized it had barely been an hour since midday.  Dust was already caking to the back of his neck and on any inch of exposed skin he had due to the sweat forming.  Well, this was as good a time as ever.  He stopped for a moment and peeled his top layers off, tying the sleeves around his hips to keep from having to carry them and continued on.  The dust wouldn’t be pleasant against his bare chest or back, but at least he wouldn’t have dirty cloth sticking to his skin.  There was barely a breeze that passed through, and when it did it was always brief, but even that little rush of air felt good against his heated skin and he found himself moving faster through.

The three camels Silanus and his 3 soldiers bought were of much help; if it was not for them, they'd be probably stuck in the desert. Two camels carried the 4 men and the other one carried the resources they had.

"So, Brugh, you say there are dead dragons here?" Asked one of the soldiers to the allied orc warrior. Brugh answered: "That's right, it is believed that hundreds of years ago, a huge river crossed this land and dragons lived there, now we can only see the bones." 

"That's why we sent that exploration team to gather information some months ago, but they have not returned yet so here we are, trying to find what happened. Their mission was to bring us some authentic dragon bones, if lucky, even scales! We can make honest thousands if we get some." Explained Silanus. Their objective was not to find a dragon skeleton, instead they wanted to find or atleast get to know what happened with the scout team. Just as they were getting deeper and deeper inside the desert, they saw someone who seemed to be familiar…

"Who's that boy over there?" Asked one trooper. The camels approached the person, it was that dammed demon whom they tried to fight before! For some seconds, Silanus thought it would have been a good idea to get rid of him, but why? If he was a demon, he'd be a menace to them, but he is actually… Neutral…

"Well well, isn't this… The demon boy who troubled those orcs? You won't find much in the middle of a sandstorm, kid. Unless YOU know something about our missing friends." Silanus grinned with coinfidence, all what he believed in were lies, LIES! The sacred kelonians, all of that was simply HOG WASH! However, that meant religion was not a reason to attack him, so why turn hostile?

"I, the mighty Tacitus Silanus, am actually thinking of forgetting our little accident back there, but first, do you by any means know about a dissapeared group of scouts? Answer me!"

After almost another hour of walking he heard strong yet soft steps against the packed sand.  They suggested weight, and he wondered briefly if there was a caravan.  It wouldn’t be the first one he’d seen, though he would have expected them to travel at night when the temperature wasn’t so horrible.  Either way, he moved towards the side of the road so that they could pass by, but at the sound of a familiar voice his eyes halved.  Could it be…?  Yes, the man from a few years back.  Of all the people to cross paths with.  He didn’t have time to deal with him today and looked up at him on his camel, ignoring his men as continued to walk, though he kept respectful eye contact, “I don’t know how many times I can say this, but I did not trouble orcs: I did my job and exterminated orcs that had been turned by vampirism.”
 
He brought an arm up, wiping sweat away from his brow with his forearm before tugging down the cloth over his mouth and letting it hang around his neck, “I also have not seen any scouts since I started my travelling.  A caravan or two, but that’s all.  I’ve only been on this route for the past day though, you’ll likely have better luck ahead of me.” There, he’d answered his question.  Truth be told, he didn’t find any of them threatening, but he said he would forget about their past encounter if he answered him and he’d do anything to keep this pest away from him.  He pulled the cloth back over his mouth and nose, his way of showing that he was done dealing with any of them though still spoke in a gentle tone, “I’ve answered you, so now if you wouldn’t mind I’d like to continue on in peace.”

After all, he had his own goals to think about and didn’t want to be delayed any longer than he had to.  Soon night would be upon them, and while the cooler temperature wasn’t blistering like the sun, he knew he’d need to rest and make sure there was enough warmth.  Lighting a fire would draw too much attention and honestly he wanted to make it to the dragons’ remains before nightfall if at all possible.  If only the whipping sand and fumes weren’t such a nuisance he might have been able to get there by now.  Which reminded him, “Were I you I’d cover my mouth and nose.  The fumes from the cracks in the canyon can cause a lot of problems if breathed in for too long.”

Oh, so innocent, so brief yet insolent. The soldiers of the Fratis saw how this one tried to avoid them, it was even cute! Perhaps he was… Scared? It would be hard to believe, since he proved to be full of magical talents some years ago. It seemed he simply wanted to avoid trouble… Fair enough.

"Vampirism in the Steppes? That's a new thing. I, as an orc warrior, have never seen one. But whatever, the orcs dissapeared some nights after that… Nothing that I could care about, really." Said Brugh the orc. Silanus frowned, it was a dissapointment that this demon or whatever he was had not seen the scouts. 

"Fumes? Interesting… Your advice is… Well recieved by the Fratis, I guess…" As soon as Silanus finished speaking, one soldier yelled: "W-what's that!?" And pointed a foul creature at the distance. A… A sand golem??? Those are extremely rare, and are said to possess magical powers!

The golem was a big floating rock with some sort of runes and a glowing white 'eye". It had moving sand floating around it. The golem slowly and careless approached the travelers… Why? "I don't care what that is, I will crack that rock until whaddever ittis breaks!" Said Brugh as he prepared to leave the camel.

One trooper interrumpted the orc and spoke: "Wait! This one's not bad, it's simply a sand golem, commonly known as desert nomad. They are friendly creatures unless attacked, I used to read about them. Perhaps it wants to show us something?" Silanus raised one eyebrow as looked at the soldier. "You say?" He asked. Then the desert Nomad approached even more.

With an inhuman, mysterious voice the sand golem greeted the travelers: "Be welcome in our home, travelers. But I warn you about the dangers that lie ahead… If you continue north, you'll be trapped in a quicksand pit, which has been the doom of other people seeking adventure… The only way to cross that road is known by me and my family, the Nomads…" The trooper that talked before respectfully asked: "To go to the Dragon Cementery, shall we cross that way? Please tell us how." 

The Golem answered: "So it is the Dragon's restplace that you seek? To go that you have to cross the quicksand whirpool. Unless… You follow my way, a longer, but safer road… I, myself only ask for a favor… Return my Sand Rose, give it to me… The chieftain of the desert elves stole it from me, and I need it back… He lives in the road to cross the whirpool, but I ask you… My beloved travelers… Help me." 

Silanus quickly answered: "Deal. Those sand elves are as good as dead. Reveal us the path, and we'll get your Rose!" The Golem soon began to glow and a big hole emerged from the sand… It was an undeground tunnel! "Cross it, but beware travelers… The king of elves is as strong as cruel."

He nodded, surprised that he had actually received some form of thanks from the man.  It left him feeling better knowing that they would part ways once more on much more positive terms.  But just as he was about to continue on past them a great creature approached them all.   His eyes widened, his lips parting in surprise underneath his bandana yet he had no urge to pull his blade.  There hadn’t been even a ripple of negativity seeping out of the mighty golem, but he could hear the frantic mumblings of Tacitus’ men.  One of them stepped forward and from his words they all began to listen rather than attack.

For whatever reason he decided to pause and listen as well.  His eyebrows knitted together in thought as the creature explained himself and pleaded for their help.  On normal circumstances he would have taken time out of his plans to assist, but seeing as there were plenty of men to aid him -men that he only freshly had gotten on better terms with- he decided it best not to this time.  Aside from that, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get along with the lot of them long enough to actually get anything accomplished.  They were as quick to aggressive action as he was to calm explanation and fellowships like that usually didn’t last very long.

But something one of them said kept his attention: “Those sand elves are as good as dead.”  And this was exactly what he had meant: they acted without thinking.  They were a different type of warrior than he was, but his way usually tried to go through peacefully if at all possible, and killing was meant to be a last resort.  Even in self defense he was known to paralyze rather than slaughter…unless said pursuers were a danger to innocents.  Thieves, while a nuisance, hardly earned the death penalty, at least just for being thieves.  For this reason alone he decided to try and go with them, though he knew it was just as much a possibility that they wouldn’t want his assistance in the first place, after all: he was just one man and their trust towards him was doubtful.

Hopefully their leader, Tacitus, would have a level of diplomacy even if he was denied.  He looked to him as he spoke, pulling the bandana down from his lips out of respect though he still wanted to be careful not to breathe in too much of the raw air, “If you’d like an extra sword and pair of hands then I could offer you aid in this quest.  If they’re as strong as he claims them to be then I have a few skills that could make this easier and less painful.”  That was the most he could offer, but he knew that even if he was denied then his worry of a civilization being slaughtered would more than linger.

The temperature was hotter, however the sandstorm began to calm down a little. One trooper began coughing, so he wrapped a piece of cloth around his mouth just as he was suggested to. Another trooper did the same, while the others were listening to the converdation.

Silanus gave a steady look to him and, after thinking about it, spoke his answer: "Well, I guess it's alright as long as you do what you're told. Get the Sand Rose and give it back to the Sand Nomad, nothing less, nothing more." After all, why would it matter if they had an extra pair of hands? If he became hostile, which seemed unlikely, they would be in a deep problem though.

Silanus frowned as he wiped a little sweat off his face with his arm. He was clearly not used to this climate. The general opened a small bag and picked out a canteen filled with water. He drank somebof it then stored it back at it's place. Silanus walked towards the big underground tunnel that was opened by the golem earlier. Soon, the other soldiers followed him, leaving the golem and the camels behind.

Silanus looked back at Naota and asked: "Not scared of the dark, are you? Come on in or we might go without you." One human soldier lit a torch to light up the place, as it seemed to be dark.

Was this the right thing to do?  He kept telling himself that it was, but he couldn’t help but feel like something was off about the whole thing.  And that wasn’t just because he had a troop of men possibly murdering people to worry about, no, this was something deeper.  He watched silently as they walked into the tunnel and he looked up at the sand golem, saying nothing to its unreadable eye.  Here we go…  Silanus’ voice brought him back to attention and he turned his eyes to him, eyebrows raising from his words as a small smirk formed underneath his own bandana.  Quite the contrary: the darkness was where he thrived.

Giving in to his decision, he walked forward and followed the rest of them in, staying next to Silanus as he did and trying not to bring to attention how well his eyes could cut through the surrounding darkness around them.  Maybe some conversation would help, “One of your men, he said the sand golem was peaceful…How can you be so sure that this won’t lead into some type of trap?”  No doubt commanding an army meant he had to make many hard decisions all at once, but he still couldn’t imagine being so sure of a decision made so quickly.  Or maybe the different possibilities had already run through the other man’s head.

“I question everything, sometimes it hurts rather than helps.”  He tugged at the bandana around his face, letting it hang loosely around his neck now that they were underground and away from the fumes.  Just in case though, he sent a silent wave around himself and the rest of the men: covering them in protection from any poisonous elements that might have managed their way under ground.  The fumes came from the canyon walls so it was possible they could be underground too, and he wanted all of them to be as lucid as possible.

“What do you think the Sand Rose is?  What do you think it does?”  For all they knew it could be dangerous.  Friendly was different than good, and he hoped that the sand golem wasn’t truly a threat to anyone innocent.  For now though he was trying not to get too wrapped up in what they were retrieving, and instead focusing on keeping as many people alive as he could.

The demon's questions were not answered inmediately, instead, the soldiers looked at each other to decide who would answer. Of course, the general would be the one who had to answer.

Silanus looked back at him and answered: "It is arrogant to think that a Fratian is wrong. If he says the golem is trustful, we trust him!" How ironic, Silanus calling somebody an arrogant. Perhaps that was not the best answer, but it would do the job.

Oh, another answer! This time, however, it was not Tacitus Silanus who answered, it was one of the soldiers, Caius. The trooper replied: "We got no idea about that, atleast not yet. It is, hopefully, something the elves cannot use against us." 

While they were walking, one odd sound was could heard. It sounded like a screech… Was it? The king of elves? A desert-colored elf with a stick of wood appeared. It's skin was wrinkled and des-hydrataded, while his eyes were full of fear and hatred. "Get away! Get away! AWAY AWAY AWAY!!!" Said the desert skinned elf. The soldiers, a little unsure, un-sheated their weapons.

On his head, the elf had an iron circlet with a large, sand-colored gem on top. It had to be the Desert Rose for sure! The elf ran towards them, but of course, the huge orc kicked him back. Silanus grinned and said: "Get that gem, Brugh. Remove that ragged elf from our sight." While the elf was on the ground, Brugh walked towards him, raising his spiked mace ready to smash his skull. "You are the worst king I have heard of…" Said the orc, ready to attack.

(( OOC: This takes place before Naota's ascension into being a deity. ))

Rather than reply his eyes halved in light irritation.  With a sigh he nodded, not that he agreed with his answer but he could tell that there wasn’t going to be much logic out of them.  Well, not the type of logic he was used to at least.  Though one thing he did agree on: he hoped that this treasure wasn’t a weapon that could be used against them.  As much as he tried to advance himself every day, he still wasn’t as sure about the ways of the desert as he could have been.  Luckily it wouldn’t be too much of a task to keep everyone healed…so long as they didn’t urge on violence and unnecessary bloodshed.

His eyebrows furrowed, watching as the sickly man came forward, and the desperation in his eyes seemed…odd.  Personally, he wasn’t sure if the item he wore was what they were in search for, but before he could speak the men began an attack.  What?!  Minasé chuckled in their head and his eyes widened as he ran forward, pulling his own blade and swinging it upwards to create a temporary earthen barrier between the befallen elf and the attackers, “Wait!

He himself ran forward, flickering out of view only to reappear in front of the shield, hopefully without getting too dangerously close to the tip of a blade, “We can’t just attack this man, we don’t even know who he is!  We don’t even know what that thing is on his head.  For all we know he could be sick in the mind.”  Try as he did to keep his words calm, there was a slight tremor laced within.  Was he strong?  Quite strong.  But did he want to go up against a group of men he’d just said he would help?  

“I’m not saying he’s good, I’m not saying he isn’t a thief and doesn’t have what we’re looking for.  But you can’t just kill first and ask questions later!”  They had to at least find out if this was the person they were looking for.  Either way, he highly doubted death or being mangled was hardly a suiting punishment when the man seemed too frail to even defend himself.  “There’s no honor in cutting down a weak man.”