At the north edge of town, I hear someone calling me over.
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@0therpearl
At the north edge of town, I hear someone calling me over.
Surely enough, there's work to be found. It's not long before I stumble upon one of the village's "Parliamentarians". Something smells wrong about him. The desert salt has dried out my nose, so I can't figure out just what it might be.
"Moon and sun, friend! You have my deep and many-sided thanks."
I walk the long perimeter of the town, looking it over closely. One villager catches my eye, digging about in the salt sand.
She's found a bit of scrapā some kind of odd trinket. When I approach, she wheels on me and damn near drops to her knees.
I don't know what it is, but I don't like these statues.
I followed a caravan south across Moghra'yi, with half a mind to rob them and finish the trek myself. Dawngliders got to them first.
Mirqushur might smell of leather or fruit if it didn't just smell like poison salt. The desert has been drinking vapor off my tongue for days, and I feel dull and slow with thirst. Half a waterskin left. I have half a mind to axe the first human I see.
They've got work, though, and are quick to point me to their kith.
I'm told the Issachari are a tribe native to the salt pans, and can be recognized by their names just as easily as their scarlet-and-white garb. Blood and salt, maybe. And snakes and oil and fire. This one has an odd look about them, but the sun's high and the shadows are deep, so I can't get a good luck under the kufiyeh they wear. I'll look around the village instead, and talk to those two. Maybe I can trade this scrap of witchwood for a meal.
Salt Sun, 7th of Tishru ii Ux. I arrive in the village of Mirqushur.
I made a Caves of Qud animatic!
Iām sincerely sorry for the lack of updates here; As much as I want to play Qud and keep drawing updates for it, I canāt right now. Ya girl got carpal tunnel syndrome a while ago and itās only gotten worseā Typing and drawing are painful right now. When it abates (and Iām confident I can do so without further harm), Iāll pick back up on my adventures.
I knit my injuries with the life stolen from the Seeker as I walk. Even with the Rusted Archway on the horizon, the hike feels like it takes weeks.
Sunās getting low. I can just make out the movement amid the ruins ā pigs, vines, centipedes. Other bugs donāt much care for me, but Iāve got bullets to spare for any thatād turn their fangs my way.
When I arrive, I hit the place like the wrath of the sultanate.
This is simple. Take out the pigs first, dance away from the slower bugs, and keep my distance from the pricklers. Theyāre not too dangerous alone. Only cost a bullet or two a pop to clear, but unlike the livid creeper vines, they donāt follow.
Itās dusk as I clear out the threats from the top floor. The few scratches I have on me are filled in by the life I steal from a wayward goat. I butcher whatās left for a meal... Though I scarcely feel hungry after I drinkĀ āem dry like that.
Dark sets in, and my torches are starting to dwindle. Rather than head below I decide to plunder the old lockers for what I can. A good blade, a sturdy shawl...
Whatās this?
Jackpot.
ehehehehehe.
EHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!
ehe. ehehe. ehehehehehehe!
ehehehehe.
eeeheeheeheeheeheehee.
Worse comes to worse, and at my lowest point, the hunters find me.
The worst kind.
No use drawing on her. Moon Time is dry on ammo. The Seeker of the Sightless Way already feels my psyche, already knows Iāve got the gifts they want to pluck from my head.Ā
Soon as I twitch a feeler, theyāre going to try to rip my mind from me.
She moves faster. Trying to shatter my mind ā tear the me from the meat.
I move smarter. The Seekerās pumping out pure vitality, so I open up and let it in. I make it mine.
Then I drink
her
dry
...Ā
Much better.
Ow.
Fuckinā slugsnout.
Damn pigās left me in a bad way. Lost, bleeding, damn near death... Cold. But I feel like Iām on the precipice of something. If I can just catch my breath, patch myself up ā Maybe I can remember what it is.
Need to get myself some vittle and make my way back to Alaazoshan.
āOkay, lack-salt. Itās on.ā This fool just ruined my damn coat.
I hit him hard, and heās too nervous to throw them bombs right in my face. Blocks a few good swings with his horns, then one catches the neck, and heās down.
āShh. Itās over.ā
Somewhere along the way, I end up riverside. Between the holes in space-time and getting turned around, I canāt tell Hamas from a hole in the ground. Thick bank of dark fog has rolled in and thereās no telling north without eyes on the Spindle, āleast until I get my hands on a compass.
For a sip of freshwater, this fish kindly gives me directions. Short jaunt across the jungle and Iāll be where I need to be.
Then I get lost.
Ah, shit.
The goatās got a fistful of explosive seeds and ten kinds of bone to pick with me. I eat three of the things before I can close the gap.
libndink ehehehe >:3
I wake up. I get a move on.
I run into a pack of them hyena-folk halfway back to the village. Ain't much to be said ā they want steel and my water, they get my lead. This one's friendly, seems like.
"Moon and sun, critter." I tip my hat. "Tell your folk I'd rather save my slugs if you please."