The coarse crunch of the sand under his boot felt foreign to him, how long ago had he left the rolling dunes behind in search of something of meaning? But in the end all he found was empty bottles and lost hope, how could he have been foolish enough to entrust his promise of redemption to anyone but himself. However, it changed nothing he was still clueless about how to find the brigands that stole her life away from him. his little girl was never coming back, and it turned the old gladiator bitter, hateful against the world that finally gave him a grain of happiness versus the desert of darkness that surrounded him just to pluck it away. He hated how it seemed the magic that flowed through him appeared to have a will, forcing it upon him in a way to find an inch of balance.

These thoughts all rested upon his shoulders with a weight equal to that of a golem, each step ever since the vast wilds of Lateo Rainforest, where years of his life was spent tracking down shreds of rumours. Where gods know how many bandit and robber camps were cut down and burnt down due to him, it made him feel sick how the few people that heard of the acts treated the Gladiator as a legend, yet still recoiling in fear when he entered the villages for his monthly supplies. His looks had changed during that time from the once groomed to long dreaded hair tied back by a small knot and a beard tangled with twigs and dirt. Of course, the mess had to go the higher north he went, the hotter atmosphere of the desert causing danger of overheating with the amount of hair, the freshly shaved reflection of his scarred face looking back at him giving him some troubling memories of his past.

Should he feel guilty anymore for the acts his monstrous actions has caused? Should he just threw away the comforting memories of a life that had kicked him to continue- His thoughts broken by a blood-curdling scream had night already fallen upon him… no, he had a few more hours until the sun dipped over the horizon, then it could be bandits. His feet were already carrying him towards the sound yet his hands were limp. "Maybe it would be best- No! My name is Viserys and Ill have my vengeance in this life or the next!" legs filled with energy he took off across the sand with an elegance of someone at home in his element, hoping his indecisive thoughts hadn't doomed whoever the scream belonged too.

The heat of the desert didn’t affect the Wasp as much as it might some others, as an adaptable insect she was comfortable in a variety of weather. Cold was the only exception, very cold weather could slow Sharifa down to a crawl of her usual speed. But that was not the case and the Wasp woman was high up in the sky, as high she could go at least, flying through the desert as the night started to fall. She had somewhat ok night vision, but she would make do, the moon was full and there were clouds in the sky. Not to mention she was dressed in a black cloak, with only her nearly translucent, nearly invisible in the sky, sticking out behind her. To anyone below her, with her altitude the buzzing of her wings might sound simply like a swarm of insects, nothing uncommon for these lands.

She was making her way back to the city of Sularia, she had finished up a little project for Angela and was looking forward to a little rest. Sharifa wasn’t lazy, far from it, but she enjoyed what R&R she got when she could. So when the scream pierced the night she perked up and turned in the direction it had come from. She waited a bit longer, another scream. Damn, she wanted to do nothing, wanted to keep flying to Sularia. But she knew what Angela would think if she found out, which she would, if Sharifa ignored a possible cry for help. ”Really hate that woman sometimes… most of the time.” She grumbled to herself and turned to fly in the direction of the scream.

As she flew on at her full speed she happened to glance down to see a lone human male running full tilt in the same direction she was flying. Interesting. We he connected to the scream or did he just happen to be in the area like Sharifa was? She looked in the direction they were heading and pushed herself to get a little more height, ah, a camp, bandits most likely. Seemed they may have a prisoner.

Sighing, Sharifa resigned herself to helping the man out, if he wasn’t one of them of course. Bandits weren’t welcome so close to Sularia, or anywhere really, but groups popped up now then. Instead dropping down to inform the human that he had company, Sharifa stayed in the air and kept herself out of his line of site behind him, following and watching like a good scout. Once she knew where he stood in what was to come and what was actually going on at that camp she would put herself directly into the situation. She had her bow with her and arrows from the sky generally did wonders to confuse people, and it was a tactic she employed more than a few times in her life, because it worked.