The sandstorm descended upon Golden Blade City with savage intensity, transforming the bustling streets into an impenetrable wall of swirling sand. For half a day, the city remained paralyzed as inhabitants and visitors alike sought refuge wherever they could find it.
In the western quarter, merchants pulled passing strangers into their tents, tribal warriors ushered lost children to safety, and rival clan members shared what little space they had. The howling wind drowned out all other sounds, forcing everyone to communicate through gestures and shouted words.
Inside one of the larger merchant tents, Elder Zhang paced back and forth, his weathered face twisted with frustration. The aging merchant leader had important deliveries waiting, contracts to fulfill. Against the warnings of others in the tent, he yanked open the flap and stepped outside. The storm's fury caught him instantly, lifting his feet off the ground before someone pulled him back to safety.
