Arienne strolls toward the Blightmark, rubbing at her stomach that growls in anticipation. The sun hangs low in the west, casting great, golden rays across the gleaming sands. Dust clung to her hair and clothes, hanging heavy on her cape which was already torn and tattered.
As she nears the collection of huts wrapped in a tall, sandstone wall, the main gates swing open to the sound of familiar shrieks. The short shapes of running wolf-kin pups come barreling out toward her.
"Not again." she mumbles to herself as she rolls her eyes.
Frolicking between her boots, tails wagging, the pups yip and squeak with delight. Arienne can't help but smile at the precious scene.
Grinning as she digs her boots into the sand, she excitedly asks. "You little biters want to fly again?"
The group answers with a flurry of excited howls.
She scooped the lot into her arms as each one gripped on tightly with tiny claws With a magical burst of air, she whips her arms upward, and launches the pups skyward.
They delighted screams and hollers will the air as they flailing about in weightlessness rushing back down to solid ground.
Arienne digs her fingers into the sand around her, channeling her magic into the ground and causing the sand to bubble like a boiling cauldron. As the wolk-kin children come barrelling down, think sink softly into pillows of billowing air and spiralling sand, floating about for a moment before gently descending to the ground.
"Again! Again!" They all scream in unison.
"Absolutely not!" baked a voice from the village gate as a scowling wolf-kin mother comes running toward them, glaring at Arienne furiously. She snatches two pups and growls at the rest, who quickly follow behind her whimpering as she marches them all back to the village.
"Apologies, ma'am." Arienne squeaks. "I didn't mean to cause offence. I would never hurt…"
"You could have broken their little bones, Lady Lindbergh!" The wolf-mother snorts as she storms off.
Arienne chuckles to herself before attempting to return to the village.
"M'lady." Lukal calls out as soon as she enters the main gate, "Your breakfast grows cold."
Arienne follows him as he leads her through the narrow paths and alleys between the village's structures, soaked in the scent of smoke, cooking meat and wet-fur.
They end up at a table in a small clearing overlooking a watering hole where wolf-kin women scrape clothes against rocks while their children romp about in the cool water.
"Please sit, Captain." Lukal beckons as he gestures to the table. He scurries off around a corner while Arienne settles in, watching the scene of commoner-life playout before her.
"A gift from the Silver-Tooth clan.." He announces proudly as he presents a large platter onto the table.
Arienne's eyes sparkle with suspense as they gaze upon a feast of fresh, grilled meats, boiled and spiced vegetables and the local's approximation of honeyed mead. Without a word, she immediately digs into the delectable meal before her.
Lukal stood proudly beside, watching her devour her food with abandon.
She glances at him and growls. "Sit, Kosak!" She mumbles with a mouth full of meat. "Eat!"
"I've already had my fill, Captain. She's all yours." he smiles.
She shrugs and continues to feast. Eventually little wolf-kin would appear around her table, fascinated by the Northenian's ability to stuff endless amounts of food into her petite frame. She smiles at them, fat and wine dripping from her lips.
With a flick of her head, she gestures for them to join her, and soon tiny paws all reach into the packed platter.
Content with both food and company, she gulps the last of her mead before rubbing off her mouth.
"Glorious!" She bellows as she stretches out, arching her back and curling her toes with satisfaction as she rubs at her bulging belly.
Lukal, who sits a short distance away with Saia beside him, regales a group of residents with tales of Northenia and its fight against the Dark Lord while a small pup lies purring in his lap.
"Take your time." Arienne mouths silently as she lifts from her seat.
She collects some of the leftover meat, wrapping it in a sheet of cloth and fills up a mug of mead before she strolls out of the village and toward The Hog.
She notices Pestle laying on a tarp, shirtless, napping in the shade.
Arienne approaches, clearing her throat.
"Hungry?" She asks as he peels open his eyes to find her looming over him.
Pestle grunts and affirmation.
"A peace offering. An apology for my behaviour earlier." she says, bowing her head as she handed him the food and drink.
Pestle groans in response, but she catches his mouth curling into a grin.
"We will be ready to leave shortly. Feel free to prepare… The Hog." Arienne says, eyeing the construct.
"She's ready." Pestle responds. "Want to fight?"
"E-Excure me?" Arienne blinked.
"You said you want to fight me... so fight me."
"Well…" Arienne hesitates, glancing down at attire. "I'm afraid I'm improperly dressed for such an affair. Perhaps tomorrow if you allow me some time to prepare."
Pestle stares at her, unimpressed. Her clothes, torn and tattered, not unlike his own. Dusty leather boots with gleaming adornments sit on her feet and her hair looked dirty and dishevelled. Yet she stood with poise, firm and erect. Her face, unblemished, carved with confidence. Her ice-blue eyes glowing beneath licks of yellow hair that hang at her brow is a fringe as firm and perfectly poised as she was.
She returns his glance unflinchingly.
"Fine…" she sighs. "How about a race?"
"A race?" He asks, confused.
"Correct. To the water pump on the far end of the village."
His brow furroughs. "That's not fighting."
"No, and yet I'm certain I could beat you. Care to confirm?"
He chuckles and nods. "After you."
"Sure?"
"Go!" He rasps, his voice finding a playful tone.
Arienne's mouth curls into a sly grin. She nods. She leaps.
Standing in stunned silence as a whirlwind of sand suddenly launches Arienne into the sky, Pestle watches, squinting as she explodes toward the village with an eruption of air at her back, sending her barreling through the sky.
Realizing too late the extent of her lead, he takes a deep breath and huffs, the process causing his muscles to instantly expand and multiply exponentially in strength.
He flexed his legs and erupted across the sand, leaving a wake of dust behind him and The Hog wobbling slightly.
The faint shadowy figure of Arienne, flying, high-up ahead, suddenly stops midair with a loud bang of rapidly expanding air. She descends like a lightning bolt, sending up a plume of sand behind the village as she lands.
Grunting with frustration, Pestle's muscles bulge even more. His bare feet dig deep into the sand as he flies across it, kicking up explosive plumes of golden debris. In a blur, he closes the distance and rounds the village toward the pump.
A sudden splash of water hits him, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling wildly through the sand until he comes to a slow, rolling halt.
Spluttering and spitting out dirt, he lifts himself, scanning the distance for the perpetrator of his predicament. Half hidden behind a heat haze a short distance away, Arienne and a trio of young wolk-kin roll about in the sand, pointing and laughing at Pestle. Four water buckets lay next to them.
Pestle chuckles, dusts himself off, and walks toward them as Arienne congratulates the wolf-kin on a plan well executed.
"Cute." Pestle says with a sly grin as he strolls them, snatching up one of their buckets. He walks to the pump, fills his container and doses himself off with a quick splash.
Laying his hand on the metal piping of the pump, it suddenly jerks and shudders. And like a rusted, creaking serpent, it comes to life, wiggling and weaving as it unfurls itself. It turns its mouth toward Arienne and the pups, who look on in stunned silence.
Before they can react, a high-pressure blast of water launches toward them, sending pups flying and knocking Arienne back, rolling her through mud.
Pestle stops the flow, and molds the water pump back to its original shape. He struts over to Arienne who struggles to lift herself in the slippery mud, surrounded by drenched pups who toss themselves about in the mud, shrieking with delight.
"Cute…" She groans with an unimpressed sneer as Pestle strolls by, laughing heartily.
An hour later, having mended their clothing, bathed and prepared their personal possessions, The Hog's crew are seen off at the village gates by most of its residents. Small children, tails wagging, running around the machine as Lukal and Pestle load the final bits of cargo and provisions.
Arienne spends a final moment ruffling the fur of appreciative pups that scratch at her boots. She promises the village chief that she would make sure all of Northenia knows of the Silver-Tooth clan's hospitality and generosity.
Final farewells are yelled across the sands as The Hog grunts to life and begins chugging towards the east, little wolf-kin run behind it, howling and yapping with joy.
"Do you see them often?" Arienne asks as she gazes at the village disappearing into a heat haze.
"It's only been our second time here." Saia sighs.
"You don't travel to these parts often?" Lukal asks.
"It's not that…" she replies. "Most villages don't last very long. The monsters…"
"I see." Arienne cuts in, noticing the young girl's demeanor drawing toward melancholy. "Where to now?" she asks, looking at Pestle.
"Midtown. Three days ride."
Arienne nods, turning to Saia.
"What can you tell me of this… Midtown?"
Saia, hops up from her seat, eyes ablaze with excitement. "Biggest town in the Western Wastes. Hundreds of people! And the guild is there!"
"Guild?" Lukal asks pointedly. "What kind?"
"The Mercenary and Adventures guild!" Saia exclaims.
"What is its purpose?" Lukal asks.
"People can hire adventurers and mercenaries to do what they want, obviously." Saia scoffs.
"Ooviously." Lukal groans, embarrassed.
"Pestle is famous at the guild. They're always begging him to take on jobs."
"Is that so… " Arienne smiles. "I can certainly see the sense in it. What kind of jobs do they expect you to do?"
"Slay monsters mostly." Saia responds. "Sometimes we need to find treasures for people. Sometimes we have to find missing loved ones taken by the monsters or sands."
Arienne and Lukal both nod as Saia talks, the little girl goes on to tell tales of mighty beasts and monsters that Pestle had slain for the guild, the many people he had rescued over the years and the impressive reputation he had acquired amongst the residents of Midtown.
Arienne, impressed with his list of crude achievements, leans back into her chair, her face beset by a sly grin as she gazes out a window at dunes and rocks waving by.
Life in the Forsaken Sands was strange, Arienne thought. Dangerous, filled with sand and dust and unbearable conditions. Yet, somehow, it was beginning to feel… comfortable.