Post by Zaim al-Daleel on Jul 6, 2009 13:18:19 GMT -7
26th of Safa
The party rode from the military camp escorted by ten of Captain Ramad's desert riders. Ali had left shortly before them, riding in the direction of Jamal Oasis. The day would prove to be a hot one, and only a few miles out of the camp the caravan lapsed into silence. The pace was ambitious, but maintainable since the camels were no longer laden with trade goods.
They rode parallel to the Mountains of Forgotten Dreams; generally westward but edging southwesterly. Fortunately, the afternoons were spent in the shadow of the mountains.
They passed towering peaks, many of them former volcanoes; evidenced by the sprinkles of chalky ash in the foothills along with chunks of porous lava rocks.
Occasionally, a clattering of falling rocks could be heard from deep within the passes that cut into the mountains every few miles. Ramad's men explained that many of the passes went through to the northern side of the mountain range, but one had to be vigilant of falling boulders.
Mid-morning on the second day, a clear sky gave way to a momentary downpour, the rain turning to steam the instant it struck the ground.
Twice they camped late in the evening, settling in amongst the sparse grass and bushes of the lower slopes. It was then the desert came alive. Rabbits ventured out of their burrows, warily foraging while jackals and wild dogs roamed in search of prey. An illusive white saluqi was once spotted- a flash of white that ran with the speed of a gazelle.
"Strong as mules... and fearless. I once witnessed a saluqi slay a scorpion the size of Amir's horse," old Rajab nodded with the air of one in the know.
Khafaz shared his knowledge of the creature: "It's a type of miniature greyhound, very popular with sportsmen and collectors. Stubby tails, sharp teeth, and short fur. A fearless hunter that happens to make a loyal affectionate pet."
The desert riders were adamantly opposed to lighting campfires at night, not wanting to draw the attention of the Son's of the Wolf. "Do not misunderstand us or doubt our courage," one explained. "We will fight to the death beside you should bandits attack, but let us not tempt fate and encourage them!"
Late in the afternoon of the third day, they reached the western most edge of the Mountains of Forgotten Dreams. With not much more than a nod and a warning to avoid the Son's of the Wolf, the desert riders turned and began their journey back toward the House Fajirik military camp.
Before the party stretched a sea of crescent-shaped barchan dunes; they swept toward a horizon free of anything useful such as land marks.
Sahra looked to Ya'Qub. "What is our path? Do we continue west in search of the spirit Natifa within her burning pool and ask her to assist us in avoiding the Son's of the Wolf? They say that she'll assist a traveler that can please her…"
"And that she is quite unforgiving of those who fail," Khafaz added for the benefit of those who'd forgotten.
Sahra nodded in agreement. "Or do we turn northwest directly toward Vahtov and try to avoid the bandits?"
Ya'qub's mind wrestled with the decision for a moment. As any good merchant, he wanted to have as much information as possible.
The party rode from the military camp escorted by ten of Captain Ramad's desert riders. Ali had left shortly before them, riding in the direction of Jamal Oasis. The day would prove to be a hot one, and only a few miles out of the camp the caravan lapsed into silence. The pace was ambitious, but maintainable since the camels were no longer laden with trade goods.
They rode parallel to the Mountains of Forgotten Dreams; generally westward but edging southwesterly. Fortunately, the afternoons were spent in the shadow of the mountains.
They passed towering peaks, many of them former volcanoes; evidenced by the sprinkles of chalky ash in the foothills along with chunks of porous lava rocks.
Occasionally, a clattering of falling rocks could be heard from deep within the passes that cut into the mountains every few miles. Ramad's men explained that many of the passes went through to the northern side of the mountain range, but one had to be vigilant of falling boulders.
Mid-morning on the second day, a clear sky gave way to a momentary downpour, the rain turning to steam the instant it struck the ground.
Twice they camped late in the evening, settling in amongst the sparse grass and bushes of the lower slopes. It was then the desert came alive. Rabbits ventured out of their burrows, warily foraging while jackals and wild dogs roamed in search of prey. An illusive white saluqi was once spotted- a flash of white that ran with the speed of a gazelle.
"Strong as mules... and fearless. I once witnessed a saluqi slay a scorpion the size of Amir's horse," old Rajab nodded with the air of one in the know.
Khafaz shared his knowledge of the creature: "It's a type of miniature greyhound, very popular with sportsmen and collectors. Stubby tails, sharp teeth, and short fur. A fearless hunter that happens to make a loyal affectionate pet."
The desert riders were adamantly opposed to lighting campfires at night, not wanting to draw the attention of the Son's of the Wolf. "Do not misunderstand us or doubt our courage," one explained. "We will fight to the death beside you should bandits attack, but let us not tempt fate and encourage them!"
Late in the afternoon of the third day, they reached the western most edge of the Mountains of Forgotten Dreams. With not much more than a nod and a warning to avoid the Son's of the Wolf, the desert riders turned and began their journey back toward the House Fajirik military camp.
Before the party stretched a sea of crescent-shaped barchan dunes; they swept toward a horizon free of anything useful such as land marks.
Sahra looked to Ya'Qub. "What is our path? Do we continue west in search of the spirit Natifa within her burning pool and ask her to assist us in avoiding the Son's of the Wolf? They say that she'll assist a traveler that can please her…"
"And that she is quite unforgiving of those who fail," Khafaz added for the benefit of those who'd forgotten.
Sahra nodded in agreement. "Or do we turn northwest directly toward Vahtov and try to avoid the bandits?"
Ya'qub's mind wrestled with the decision for a moment. As any good merchant, he wanted to have as much information as possible.