Desert Expedition (Solo)

[Ravvus Wiseau]

A harsh sunlight beamed down on Ravvus' head. Almighty... it was hot alright. What a great heat. What a beautiful waste laid out before him. Nothing but golden, rolling sand stretching as far as the eye could see. What did that sand hide? Riches? Rare staves? Legendary weapons? Pretty gems? Perhaps a book from olden days, forgotten by war and the wrath of time. Oh, now those were things worth searching for. Those were profitable. For the lucky and careful of eye there was a fortune waiting to be taken.

...But Ravvus didn't have the luxury of digging through the sand. No, he had a much more 'important' task: locating dragons. Where are you supposed to find one of those? Since when did the Pathfinder's guild operate off of rumor and hearsay? Actually, hearsay was a primary motivator for adventures in the Pathfinder guild. There was just usually some evidence to back it up. If the intelligence was solid, then the rumor was worth investigating. But dragons? Really? Don't misunderstand. Ravvus loved the concept of dragons. He yearned to see one up close so that he could marvel at one of the great legends of the world. And fighting one... oh what a battle that would be. That was a thought worth relishing. Trading fire back and forth between a dragon. Making a fireball explode in a dragon's mouth before it could unleash it's murderous breath. Anybody who could kill a dragon would undoubtedly have proof of their strength. But if the guild wanted to locate a dragon, for whatever insane reason, they should be working off of actual sightings. Follow the evidence. If one dragon was killed in Bern, maybe there were more lurking there? Why come to the desert? To find some fabled city of dragons? A city which no one in recorded history has been able to locate?

Foolishness.

“Sigh...” Ravvus let out in exasperation. If one wasn't capable of reading his mind, which last Ravvus checked was most people, then they might assume that the heat was getting to him. Not so much, Ravvus liked the heat. He liked foreign lands. He liked experiencing new things. No. What was getting to him was the fact that his talents were being wasted on a milk run. Perhaps more so was the fact that he wouldn't encounter anything worth fighting in the desert. Maybe some raiders. Maybe. If he was lucky. And the raiders were stupid. Stupid enough to attack an armed band of travelers. But that wouldn't happen. Right?

It was all just as well. He doubted the guild was intentionally wasting his talents, they were just currently short of manpower. Most of the Pathfinder's guild were Etrurian, and had been conscripted into military service. Same thing went for Ilia's Pale Compass guild. It occurred to Ravvus that it might be worth joining another adventurer's guild, but it would probably make little difference. The only other notable guilds were in Bern or Lycia, both of which were also preparing for war. Ravvus would just be trading one source of slow, unproductive work for another. No, right now Ravvus needed patience. Work would turn up soon enough.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

Ravvus continued to trudge through the sands. The expedition leader, and Nabatan native, Eagle had offered him a camel. But Ravvus had turned down the offer, preferring to walk instead. Better chance of bumping into something buried that way. A thoughtless camel would simply ignore objects buried in the sand. A lucky man could make his fortune in the desert after all.

“You sure you don't want that camel?” Eagle called from the front of the caravan. He had the look of a leader, and a good one at that. He was a strong man, almost Sacaen in appearance. He was well-built with a broad, and bare, chestline and even broader shoulders. He sat atop his camel with a thick pair of biceps and a good grip on the reins. His skin was dark, dyed a rich brown from the years he'd spent in the desert. His hair was black and his eyes emerald. He wore a brown pair of pants and a necklace sporting a modest-sized sapphire. The necklace was a pretty looking thing. According to rumor, it was a family heirloom. It had been passed from father to son, and occasionally daughter, for some generations now. At least, that was the rumor. Ravvus didn't actually care why Eagle had the necklace. He just wanted it. Preferably he would someday obtain it through some means which included physically or mentally over-powering Eagle. Although there was little chance of that. Eagle ranked higher in the Pathfinders than Ravvus and the rules regarding internal conflicts were pretty strict. “Leave your personal problems on another shore, we're a company of discoverers.” Was, more or less, one of the rules. On top of that, Eagle was simply in better physical condition than Ravvus. Ravvus would have little chance of beating Eagle in a fight until he knew the man better. Until he understood Eagle's 'flow'. Combat is all about interrupting your opponent's flow, the rehearsed manner in which they fight. Once you interrupt an enemy's flow it is very difficult for them to continue fighting effectively. They second guess their attacks or switch to new and unfamiliar fighting styles. It's a very messy and ungraceful thing to witness really. Ravvus knew next to nothing about Eagle's 'flow'. So, there was little chance of the two of them fighting... yet.

“I'm fine, thank you.” Ravvus replied with a smile belying his intentions. Ravvus had a respect for Eagle, which might have been one of the reasons he wanted to fight him so much. Respect was hard earned, and gained through proving one's self. If you could beat a man proven worthy of respect, then surely you were at least his equal, if not his better. By extension you would prove yourself worthy of respect. Right? Eagle would make a good foe someday.

“You're mad Ravvus. Don't complain to me when you collapse from exhaustion.” Eagle called from the front of the line. He was probably right. It was not wise to walk through a desert when you had the option of riding instead. But, no, Ravvus was a curious man and his curiosity at times came at the cost of his personal health. He'd rather risk heat exhaustion and find something worth keeping, than be healthy and find nothing. As an explorer, Ravvus prided himself on this.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

Ravvus proved to have little luck. Hours of marching and he'd yet to spy a single item buried in the sands. Pity.

Perhaps he wasn't looking hard enough. Ravvus slowed his pace and strained his eyes in hopes of finding something out of the ordinary. Perhaps the heat was finally getting to him, as the harder Ravvus focused the more blurred his vision became.

Nothing.... Nothing... Nothing... Nothing.

Something!

Ravvus spotted something in the sand. It had just entered his field of vision. It was a darkened shade, and stood out in stark contrast to the yellow particles of Earth. It was amorphous. Perhaps a magical field containing an ancient artifact? That would be exciting. Even better, it was right next to him. He wondered how the other explorers had missed it. Ravvus kneeled down and reached out a hand to touch it. The response was... underwhelming.

It was his shadow. It was just his shadow. It wasn't a field of elder magic. It wasn't a treasure. It was his shadow. Bother. The heat really was getting to him. Speaking of which, it seemed that his vision was becoming increasingly blurry. Ravvus could barely see straight. The sand before him and the sky above him were now little more than different colored expanses. He couldn't make out finite details of either of them. That probably wasn't a good sign. Ravvus felt his legs fail him. He was now on his knees. Ok, that definitely wasn't a good sign. Ravvus moved a shaky hand to his forehead. Oh wow, that was really hot. Maybe rejecting that camel hadn't been a very good idea after all. He wasn't feeling very good. A few moments passed before Ravvus' vision failed him entirely.

...

Some time later, Ravvus awakened. He was lying down in a tent and it was dark outside. There was a blanket covering his body and his clothing had been removed. A damp cloth was lying atop his head as well. It seemed that the caravan had stopped to take care of him when he'd fallen unconscious. How nice of them. No doubt Eagle he'd get hell from Eagle. Ravvus was a little surprised with himself. He had a good constitution, that it is to say it was accustomed to extreme climates such as the desert. It was an uncommon thing for Ravvus to allow himself to suffer from heat exhaustion or, for that matter, other temperature related ailments. He really must not have been paying attention if he had collapsed in such a way. He would drink more water in the future.

Ravvus noticed another person in the tent with him. It was Eagle. Of all the people for him to wake up to... Ravvus braced himself for the coming lecture. Eagle noticed the now conscious blonde mage and looked at Ravvus for a few moments. His eyes had an odd look to them. They were calm, focused, and entirely devoid of the wrath and vindication Ravvus had expected. “Ravvus.” Eagle spoke in a measured, matter-of-fact voice. “You will ride a camel for the rest of our journey.” Without waiting for Ravvus' response Eagle rose and began to leave the tent. “But Ea-” Ravvus began to protest. “Do not make me repeat myself.” Eagle briefly paused before leaving.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

And with that Ravvus was alone again. He was a little surprised. He'd expected Eagle to have given him more of a lecture and less of an order. Regardless, Ravvus was frustrated. Damn Nabatan. How dare he keep Ravvus from his treasures. Who was Eagle to keep Ravvus from the things he desired? Who was he to command Ravvus? Who was he to address the blond mage in such a belittling manner? Of course Ravvus knew exactly what the answers to these questions were. Eagle was his superior in status and power. Eagle was a man capable of breaking Ravvus with little effort. Perhaps a better question to be asking is: Who was Ravvus to disobey Eagle? But the blond mage would never admit this. No, he was far too prideful to do such a thing.

Ravvus sighed and slowly raised his tired body. The wet cloth slid off his head as he looked around the tent for his clothing. His clothes laid on either side of him, having been thrown around haphazardly. Somewhat annoyed by the disrespect shown to his attire, Ravvus began to dress himself. This whole situation was very bothersome. Searching for myths, not being allowed to hunt for treasure. If Ravvus could not do the latter, than combing the desert served almost no purpose. The only solace he could take would come from exploring this foreign land. Otherwise, his time was simply being wasted. Perhaps when the expedition was finished Ravvus would adventure on his own for a time. The Pathfinders were not serving him very well right now.

Ravvus pushed the flaps to his tent open and walked outside. He felt the cold sand give way beneath his feet. It was a comfortable feeling having the sand flow in and around his toes. A few of the other members of the Pathfinders shot him dirty glares as he exited the ten, but Ravvus did not care. They could scorn him as much as they wanted. Their hatred, or anger, or discontent, was worth less than nothing to the blond mage. They were not like Eagle. They neither commanded respect nor strength. Their opinions were beneath Ravvus. Ignoring the scathing glares of his peers, Ravvus slowly walked away from the campsite until he was a decent distance away from everyone else.

Having removed himself from the company, Ravvus sat atop one of the sand dunes and starred up into the sky. High above, beyond the grasp of building, beast, and man alike were the stars of the night. Twinkling gems, shining bright in the darkness. Ravvus wondered what they were made of and how they managed to maintain their positions so high above the earth. Where did they come from? What did they do? Why did they only come out night? Why did they dance and tease those of us caged to the ground? Gleaming so incandescently, there were few things as beautiful as the stars. Ravvus wanted one. He wished he could have one. If only he could pluck one from the sky and call it his. Hide it in his travel sack and covet it for himself. That would be nice. Ravvus liked the notion of owning a star. Perhaps one day he would. Perhaps one day he would fly higher than any pegasi, wyvern, or dragon and claim a star for his own. Ravvus thought about these things for a while. He starred into the night until his body was cursed with lethargy and and his body demanded rest.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

The night passed quickly and by morning the company was moving again. True to his command, Eagle had 'provided' Ravvus with a camel for the rest of the journey. Damn Nabatan. With his chances of finding treasure now significantly reduced, Ravvus' attention was focused elsewhere. It was focused on... nothing. Yup. Rolling sands, clear blue sky. Nothing going on there. Sand dune after dune after dune after dune. Nope, no dragons in sight. Not in the sky, not lurking in the sand. Shoot. It was almost as if his time was being wasted. But Eagle wouldn't do that to him, right? Eagle wouldn't be so small-minded as to actually think they'd find something. Right? Mocking aside, it was probably in Ravvus' best interest to keep his wits about him. Though he would not find treasures buried in the sand, if he was not careful he could find himself walking straight into danger. Scorpions, giant and small, were known to populate this desert. The occasional desert raiders were known to be the end of many a traveling merchant in the desert as well. Even though his company was more than capable of fighting scorpions or raiders, it wouldn't be pretty if someone got the jump on them. In his anxiety, it would be unlikely if he noticed someone sneaking up on him.

While Ravvus mentally bemoaned his situation, someone approached him from the left. It was Emil, another member of the guild. Emil was in charge of the excavation tools and had a great love of horses. That is, he had a great love for his personal mount Bolt. They made a good team, he and his horse. If ever there was an animal and its master who shared a connection as intimate as that of two lifelong friends, then it was Emil and Bolt. Emil pushed Bolt hard, making sure that the horse could run just a little bit farther each day. Bolt in turn, would race to the ends of the Earth if he had Emil riding on his back. The two shared a bond. All of this to say that Emil had made a very awkward transition to camel. It was infinitely amusing to watch him fumble and flail upon the humped mount. He'd spent the journey swearing and bemoaning the change of mount. “Damn camels.” or “Where am I supposed to sit?!” He'd say. The camel didn't take well to him either. There were a few times during the journey when Ravvus could have sworn the creature tried to throw Emil off. Ravvus wondered why the horseman had approached him.

“Hey, Ravvus. How are you feeling?” He began timidly. Emil was a caring soul, but he seemed to have some trouble, or at least feel discomfort, while interacting with other people. This is not to say that he was awkward while speaking with other people. Socializing in general seemed to make the man anxious. Though he wouldn't admit it, Ravvus appreciated his show of concern. “Yeah, I'm fine. I really don't need to be riding this thing though.” Keeping his focus on the desert before him, Ravvus patted the camel's hump. “I just wasn't drinking enough water yesterday.” Emil turned his head away, perturbed by Ravvus' words. He had a look of concern about him. “Really, I'm fine.” Ravvus spoke, attempting to put the horseman at ease. A half-frown marked Emil's face. Ravvus words had not swayed him. “You know, Eagle knows a lot of things. He's a pretty good leader too. He's got everyone's best interests at heart, you know?” Emil scratched the back of his head. “He cares about the people in this group. He's probably just trying to look out for you.” Ravvus rolled his eyes. It wasn't that he disagreed with anything Emil had just said. It was a bit naïve, that is: an innocent view of Eagle's actions, but it was not entirely inaccurate either. Eagle, most likely, simply wanted to keep the group moving and in good health. But Ravvus did not care what Eagle's wants or intentions were. He did not care if the Nabatan wanted to look after him. What Ravvus cared about was satisfying his own desires. And Eagle's actions were interfering with that. Perhaps more importantly, Eagle was imposing his will over Ravvus. And that was truly infuriating. Ravvus should have expected such naive sentiment from Emil. He should have known better. He had half a mind to tell Emil off and another half a mind to act prudently. Emil, while not close to Ravvus, was an ally. Little more than an acquaintance, but not quite a friend. It would be preferable to remain favorable in Emil's eyes. “I'm sure you're right, Emil.” He allowed a beat to pass before speaking again. “I just wish I could go treasure hunting.” Emil smiled in agreement. He chuckled. "Me too, man."

[Ravvus Wiseau]

The two of them traded words for a time. Emil seemed to relax a bit more the longer they spoke. However, their conversation was entirely halted by a sudden hand sign from the front of the caravan. It was Eagle, Eagle was signaling for the rest of them to stop. But for what reason? One of the guild members spoke up. He was a tall, well-built man with short, blonde hair. “Eagle, what is the me-”

“Quiet!” Eagle, interrupted in a hushed, but audible tone. The man ceased speaking, but bared his teeth. He looked like he was snarling in defiance, but no sounds came from his lips. Reflexively, Ravvus moved a free hand to his travel satchel containing his fire tome. The way Eagle spoke was disconcerting. It was reminiscent of how the Nabatan had addressed Ravvus last night. Short, but stern. There was power behind the man's words. But why? Why was Eagle on edge? Was there something the Nabatan had noticed that the rest of them hadn't? Were they in danger? Everything became quiet. The camels had stopped moving and the guildsman had ceased speaking. The atmosphere was tense. Everyone was waiting on Eagle, waiting for him to lift the silence.

Ravvus himself was searching the landscape, spying for anything out of place. His ears had perked up too, listening for anything that might explain Eagle's sudden commands. He sat there for a few moments, his senses attuned.

…

“...mmaka!...”

There, in the distance, someone was shouting. But for what reason? Was that why Eagle had stopped them? He heard someone shouting? The answers to Ravvus' questions were then answered. In the distance, shooting up and out from one of the sand dunes was a chasm of fire. The noise Ravvus had just heard. It must have been a magical incantation. Someone was casting a fire spell in the distance. The fire chasm was followed by a bolt of fire. And another. And another. Shortly before each ball of fire was shot, Ravvus could hear a person shouting. It was much easier to interpret the meaning of the faded shouts now. The blond mage felt his body quiver with anticipation. This was it. This was why he was in the desert. Given Eagle's declaration, Ravvus had expected the rest of his journey to be dull, a waste of time. Without the opportunity to find treasure, there was no reason for him to be trudging through the hot sands. But now... now Ravvus had a reason to be in the desert again. To fight. To conquer. He felt his right hand twitching furiously. He had to fight. He placed his left hand upon his right arm to suppress the erratic movements. He needed to fight. But if he did so now he would be disobeying Eagle's orders. And in more ways than one. If he moved now, Eagle would surely punish him harshly. What would the mage do? What could he do? Risk the wrath of Eagle or suppress his creeping anxiety?

[Ravvus Wiseau]

But Ravvus had to do what he had to do. The blond mage exhaled sharply to calm himself. He gripped the reins of his camel tightly and closed his eyes. He needed this. When Ravvus reopened his eyes, he began to slide a boot out of a saddle. But he noticed something. Something had changed. He no longer saw fire being spat from the dune. No! No, it couldn't be! Ravvus closed his eyes and listened intently. He prayed, prayed to hear incantations of magic, words of power, something. Nothing. Damn! Damn it all! The battle couldn't be over. Ravvus needed it to continue if only for a little while. He felt his grip on the reins tighten. His finger nails dug into the palms of his hands. A trickle of blood seeped slowly out of each fist.

“Erin.” Eagle began. “Come with me. Everyone else stay here.” A slender woman slid from her saddle and moved to Eagle's side. The tall blond man from before spoke again. “Where are you going, Eagle?! What the hell is going on?” The Etrurian spat venom-coated words. His voice was harsh and demanding. The Nabatan turned to meet the Etrurian. Eagle looked at the Etrurian respectfully and resolutely. His appearance was not defiant, but it was not sheepish either. “Someone was casting anima spells in that dune over there. Fireballs to be precise. And now they've stopped. I want to know why they started and ceased, and if they're a threat to us. Or anyone else for that matter.” Eagle spoke plainly. The blond Etrurian looked down upon Eagle. The man held his chin high as if to exaggerate the fact that he was looking down on the Nabatan. His eyes slightly narrowed in animosity. He did not like Eagle, that much was clear. “You have ten minutes.” The Etrurian spoke in an equally plain voice, yet he punctuated his words in an almost mocking manner.

The Etrurian speaking was a man named Goeke-Morey. His name was a portmanteau of his last name and the last name of the woman he'd wedded. Goeke-Morey was an influential man among the Pathfinders. He had a history and a friendship with the current master of the Pathfinders and reported directly to him. Goeke-Morey was a terror to work under due his wrathful and short-tempered nature. While not incompetent or incapable, he was not the best candidate for his position. Many of Ravvus' peers theorized Goeke-Morey's position was a result of nepotism.

Goeke-Morey was typical as far as Etrurians went. He was a well-educated man, knowledgable, and intelligent. He could be described as zealous, devoted, loyal, and patriotic. He was fierce-some and had some knowledge of axe-play. He took many precautions to ensure his personal safety above all else. He, usually bore an ornate, blue set of heavy plate-mail armor and always kept his hair cut short. Perhaps most importantly Goeke-Morey was more than a little bigoted. The fact that he'd been placed under Eagle's command, to say the least, irritated him.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

In the midst of this, Ravvus was twitching with anticipation. The allure of battle was fresh in his mind. He could not allow even the most remote possibility of fighting to slip from his fingers. Not now at least. “Eagle. Let me come with you.” Ravvus slid off of his camel and took a few steps towards the Nabatan. “I can keep up.” Eagle cocked an eyebrow. He was probably wondering why Ravvus was so eager to join him. “Take him.” Interjected Goeke-Morey. “He can keep up.” While Goeke-Morey was technically under Eagle's command, that was only for this mission. Afterwards the Etrurian would resume regular command of the adventurers. Goeke-Morey only did this to spite the Nabatan, but if Eagle didn't comply then Goeke-Morey would be able to punish him in the future. The two leaders locked eyes in an intense gaze “Very well. Come, Ravvus” Eagle spoke plainly, and with his characteristic authority, much to Goeke-Morey's distaste. Normally Ravvus would take exception to the Etrurian's treatment of Eagle, but right now he didn't care about about their petty squabbles. Right now he just needed to punch something. The trio took off.

Ravvus, Erin, and Eagle were roughly on equal footing in the desert. Ravvus had the advantage of magic to hasten his journey. Erin was quick on her feet as a result of her trade. Eagle was in another class entirely. He was hulking in form so he did not have the benefits of a graceful and nimble body like Erin. Nor was he blessed by magic, so the sands would not simply guide him the way they did Ravvus. It was something else, something hard to describe. It was as if an inherit potential energy was being made manifest to spur him onwards. An energy not measured by the size of his body, his skill with his axe, or even his abilities as a leader. Rather, it was a power gained by strength of will. The will to overcome human limitation. Perhaps it was something else entirely. Ravvus did not know what gave Eagle such speed, he simply knew the man was fast to a non-natural degree. Indeed, he could easily keep up with Ravvus and Erin and, were the terrain different, would outrace Erin and Ravvus entirely. However, seeing as they were, in fact, running through a desert, Ravvus had the advantage. He was the first of the three to reach the sandy bowl in the distance.

Ravvus felt a twinge of surprise as he gazed into the sandy dune. It was a bloody carnage which was splayed before him. Shapes of men were scattered about. The bodies were either badly burned or drowning in pools of blood. Swords laid scattered throughout the sands, as were spears and bows. Among the bodies there seemed to be two distinct groups. One half of the bodies were covered in torn, black fabrics and pieces of cloth. A handful of them had fire tomes laying next to their bodies. Among the other half of bodies were men wearing a wide array of armor and cloth. Some wore leather tunics, others iron pauldrons, and even a few bore heavy plate-mail breast-guards. But not one of them moved. One-thousand hells and one hundred Hargus'! They were all dead! DEAD! No one was left for Ravvus to fight. Curse that Eagle for making them wait. In his caution, he had once more robbed Ravvus of his prize. That Nabatan was establishing a negative rapport with the mage.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

The blond mage stared across the dune with fury in his eyes. Nothing. There was nothing left. Everyone was dead. A false eagerness had gripped him. He would find no challenge here. Ravvus grit his teeth in utter anger. His fists were balled up and ready to strike. His brow was furrowed and strained. Forgetting himself, the mage let out a shout of anguish and despair. He threw one of his fists into the ground, making a tiny crater. Nothing. There was nothing. The mage slumped to his knees and let his head hang weakly. He felt a strange mixture of emotions. Anger and despair. A need to destroy mixed with a complacent apathy. He did not know what to do. He didn't even know why he felt as he did.

And that was when he heard it. A cough. A faint thing, really. It pierced his daze briefly, long enough to grab his attention. The mage's head shot up and he searched for the source of the pained noise. Displaced from the rest of the group was one of the robed men. The man laid in a pool of blood, likely his own. Ravvus' right hand started twitching again. His book? Where was his fire tome? His travel satchel. Yes, of course. His right arm quivered violently as it shot into the traveling bag. He jerked the incendiary tome from the sack and beat his legs against the sand. His feet pounded, one after the other, occasionally slipping, causing him lurch forwards. The mage's clumsy charge brought him directly in front of the coughing figure. There was blood trickling down from the right side of the robed man's mouth. Pieces of the man's clothing had been torn and penetrated. Each area had a moderately sized red stain. Not that Ravvus noticed any of these details. He could tell that the man was dying, even without examining such details. And this only serve to raise his ire. ”No! He shouted. ”No, no! You can't die yet. No!” Ravvus shook the man violently. ”I need to fight!!” The mage's words were but a whisper. A strained, high-pitched whisper. He felt his grip on the man's shoulders tighten. His nails dug into the man's wounded shoulders. One could only wonder what the robed man's perspective of this situation was.

“Come on!” The man's breathing was hoarse, short, and heavy. The man turned his gaze to Ravvus and made eye contact with him briefly. The man had a pair of dull green eyes, highlighted against the color of his black garb. They looked tired and detached, no longer caring for who or what they fell upon. The green eyes lingered on Ravvus before switching back to the sky. The man's breathing became more rapid and frantic. It continued like this for a short time before dwindling into nothing. The man was dead. With that, Ravvus was left alone once more in the sand dune. A graveyard his place of agony. His companions corpses.

“No..” The blond mage whispered. “No...!” He repeated, this time a little louder. His speech was unnatural, animalistic in tone. “You selfish bastard!...” The blond man accused, as his fingers crawled across the deceased man's chest. They pressed against the robed figure's body, resting just above his heart. And then they slinked forward and gripped the man's neck. His hands shook timidly, as he attempted to throttle the corpse. They quivered weakly and slightly. Then the blond man became more aggressive. His hands tightened and shook harder, and harder, until the body was rocking back and forth. If Eagle and Erin could see him now, they'd think him a mad man. And who could blame them? Perhaps the blond mage was mad. Fits of violence were not characteristic of the sane. “ARH!” Ravvus gasped in desperation. ”Why?” He asked no one. The mage's head reared back, as if he were going to headbutt the robed corpse. But it merely fell upon the man's head and rested there weakly.

In the midst of his thrashing, Ravvus had knocked something loose from the man's robes. Initially he hadn't noticed it. And why would he have? The blond man was lost in a mad frenzy. It would take more than a simple trinket to snap him out of his haze. But this trinket was actually a gem. One that the mage would not recognize.

With tears in his eyes, Ravvus brought his head back up and gazed upon the motionless body. That was when he noticed the gem. It was blue in color, dark blue that is. It was almost similar in appearance to a sapphire or a blue gem. However, it was too dark to be a blue gem, and too round to be a sapphire. The object's surface was smooth, devoid of any edges or coarseness. It was uncanny. Ravvus had never seen anything like it. Now, the blond mage was no expert on rocks and rare minerals, but he had seen his fair share of stones in his adventures with the Pathfinders. The anomaly caught his interest. His hand, still quivering, reached out and grabbed it. Perhaps that would be enough. Perhaps this small rock would be worth the journey in the desert. The blond mage's heartbeat slowed as did the rate at which he breathed. He blinked several times before returning to his senses.

Ravvus felt an enveloping hand touch his shoulder. Startled, his head jerked around and a familiar Nabatan entered his vision. ”Ravvus? Eagle questioned. ”You do not look well.” The blond mage blinked in response. That's right... How long had Eagle been watching him? Had he noticed him take the stone? Or strangle the body? Ravvus felt beads of sweat all over his face. Bits of perspiration which hadn't come from the heat of the desert, but were rather a result of his desperation. The mage ran a hand from his chin to his forehead, removing the conglomeration of sweat. Slow and deep breaths entered and exited his lungs. ”Fine. Fine. Just a little startled is all...” “By what?” The Nabatan fired right back. Ravvus avoided eye contact. He continued panting heavily. ”We're in a graveyard, if you hadn't noticed.” The Nabatan let up a bit, turning his attention from Ravvus to the robed mage's corpse. The dark-skinned man walked a few paces over to the body and knelt besides it. ”Nothing you haven't seen before... He muttered, as he began his inspection. ”You act like you've just killed a man.” Eagle paused in thought. ”Did you? Erin and I heard you shout earlier and you were kneeling next to this body. Did he give you any trouble?” Ravvus paused for a moment. Had he killed the man? No. But that was a good alibi. Eagle would not appreciate the fact that Ravvus had stolen from the dead. Yes. Yes, Ravvus had killed the man. That was what he would tell Eagle.

[Ravvus Wiseau]

”Yeah, yes. He was giving me some trouble, so I had to... had to kill him.” Eagle nodded. ”Do not trouble yourself over it Ravvus, you were acting in self-defense.” The colossal man rose to his feet. ”Although I admit I am surprised at how much it's flustered you. Can't imagine that man there was your first kill.” The blond mage rubbed his nose. ”He certainly wasn't.” Ravvus muttered under his breath. The hulking Nabatan returned to Ravvus' side. ”Any idea what happened here?” He inquired. Now that Ravvus was a bit calmer, he began to assess the situation at hand. He glanced at the bodies of the robed men and then at the bodies of the armored fellows. Off of snap judgments, Ravvus theorized that the two groups were either roaming desert raiders or violent mercenaries. Perhaps a group of raiders attacked a group of mercenaries thinking they'd be easy prey? Possible. Unlikely, but possible. It was a curious sight. ”I'm not really sure, myself. Both groups look like they could be bandits, but I have no idea why they would attack each other. I don't think their goal was to rob each other. Plenty of merchants and unarmed caravans in the desert if they wanted to do that. Maybe a personal dispute?” He placed his hands on his hips and shrugged in indifference. “I don't know, Eagle.”

“Pity.” Eagle responded. “Well, at least they won't be a threat to the caravan. I suppose all that's left is to bury them?”

What? Bury them? No... No, Ravvus didn't want to bury anybody. Curse Eagle and his code of honor. The blond mage glanced at Eagle. “Must we really? Let the desert consume them, we have no reason to show these dead the respect of a grave.” “All men deserve the respect of a burial, Ravvus. If a man comes across a corpse, he is obligated to return it to the Earth.” Eagle folded his arms across his chest. He stood tall and spoke with characteristic authority. But Ravvus remained unmoved. “Must we really? Don't we have more pressing matters to attend to?” Ravvus snapped his fingers, having stumbled upon an opportune thought. “Weee have city of dragons to find don't we? Yes, indeed, we're burning daylight. We'd better go look for that city of dragons. Gotta go mark it on the ma-” “Ravvus!” Eagle interrupted. His voice boomed, his tone was harsh. “I warned you once not to make me repeat myself. I will not warn you again.” The blond mage backed down, cowed by Eagle's intimidating presence. “Alert the caravan. Tell them that we need shovels and men.” He cocked his head in the direction of their caravan.

Ravvus' hand twitched again. Eagle. This man of power and command. How he excited Ravvus. He dared to command the blond mage. He made Ravvus feel so weak. And in that desperate weakness, Ravvus found desire. He found the urge to fight and overcome and become stronger. One day. One day Ravvus would be sure to kill this man for making him feel so weak. Ravvus swore on his name that he would end this man's life one day.

No. More than that. Ravvus would do much more than merely kill Eagle. He would annihilate Eagle. He would erase Eagle's existence. Eagles' bones would split, his skull would be crushed, and his flesh pierced. Ravvus would break Eagle's axe in two. He would burn the man's body and reduce his impenetrable physique to a smoldering ash. And perhaps, merely as a personal statement, he would not bury Eagle's body. He would leave that body to be consumed by scavengers. One day the blond mage would do this.

The blond mage gazed upon Eagle's hulking, bronze form. A body perfected through years of intense physical conditioning. A man who had been hardened by the elements, a man truly deserving to command others. Ravvus gripped his twitching hand. Not yet... They would fight and Ravvus would win. But not yet...

[Ravvus Wiseau]

“Ravvus?” The mention of his name broke Ravvus from his daze. “What are you waiting for?” The blond mage blinked twice, returning to reality. His smiled at the colossal man. “Nothing Eagle, nothing at all.” The aspiring mage walked past Eagle and back to the caravan to procure the necessary equipment. Ravvus returned to the caravan and exchanged a few words with Emil and Goeke-Morey. The blue-armored Etrurian shared Ravvus' annoyed sentiment at having to bury the bodies. He didn't enjoy trudging through the desert any more than Ravvus did. Furthermore, he had just as much, if not more, of a bone to pick with Eagle. Frustrated, the Etrurian dispatched Emil, Ravvus, and a handful of others to follow out Eagle's orders. They followed their orders to the letter and buried the bodies. It was a labor-some task. They had to gather up all of the bodies, remove a piece of their clothing, and then shovel sand above them. Eagle took the torn fabrics, tied them to sticks, and then placed each one above one of the bodies. Finally, Eagle muttered a short prayer to the departed. While strenuous, the task did not take long and, in a short time, they departed the graveyard and continued traveling throughout the desert. Goeke-Morey was sure to give Eagle an earful for the time he'd used burying the bodies. The caravan never did learn why the two groups had attacked each other. Nor did they find any sign of dragons during the rest of the expedition. No one was truly surprised. None of them had anticipated finding anything worthwhile. And, indeed, to all but one, the journey had been a waste.

One night, a few days later, Ravvus snuck away from the rest of the group. In the distance, he sat atop a sand dune. Out of his travel satchel, he pulled the dull, blue rock. He'd never seen anything like it before. It was curious. An anamoly. Ravvus was no petrologist, but he'd come across a lot of precious gems in his travels. It was extremely unusual for him to come across a gem, but not recognize it. What an utterly unique thing he had stumbled upon. Unique, and his. It was Ravvus'. That was really all that mattered. He'd found this unique, singular stone. This stone that nobody else seemed to recognize. The mage held it aloft in the air. He compared it to the stars in the sky. The stars he so desperately wanted to claim. The stars, Eagle, knowledge of the elements. Such things were out of the greedy mage's reach right now. Some of those things he would not be able to obtain for a long time. Some of them he may have by the end of the next month. But right now, Ravvus had this rock. It was no star. Nor was it the beaten body of Eagle. It was not even mediocre knowledge of fimbulveter or volcanon. But it was a start. Yes. It was a start.

[End of Thread.]