The trip was finally over. To call it painful was an understatement beyond understanding. He stood now on the deck of the ship approaching the docks and all he could do was stand up and try not to fidget. He was tired, but he itched everywhere, he hurt and wanted to sleep but couldn't. The tremors only began last night, and he knew he would be seeing things before the day was out; it wasn't that bad though. He had no clue that in an hour his body would begin ejecting fluids from every orifice it could think of doing so while causing intense pain that would be ignored over the other pain.
As the boat hits dock Osore leaps off, regretting the action once he hits ground and his leg gives out under him. He does manage to turn it into a roll and get back to his feet, but anyone paying attention would realize he didn't land like he intended. He forces his hands to stop shaking for a moment and looks around, wondering what he was doing here for the moment before shrugging it off. He needed a way through the sandstorm.
What sandstorm? Osore stops still as his brain stops to consider that. He'd never been here, but he clearly remembered a dangerous storm of sand that could rip a man apart in less time than it took a chef to chop a carrot. His armor wouldn't protect him, even though it could be made water-proof the sand would shred it down over a few days, he would need something more.
Osore tells his comrades to meet him at the gates and wanders off to buy some camels, water, and thick skins that would hopefully protect them from the worst. When he finds out that he may as well just buy company of travelling guides he does that instead. Some questions later and they're heading out with the guides laughing that he thought he'd ride a camel instead of using it to haul the water.
Osore himself was too busy dealing with a sudden bout of vomitting to worry, and was more concerned about cleaning his armor out in this place.
(Heading for Wind! Topic left, S-rank + half time card = 15 minutes)
As the boat hits dock Osore leaps off, regretting the action once he hits ground and his leg gives out under him. He does manage to turn it into a roll and get back to his feet, but anyone paying attention would realize he didn't land like he intended. He forces his hands to stop shaking for a moment and looks around, wondering what he was doing here for the moment before shrugging it off. He needed a way through the sandstorm.
What sandstorm? Osore stops still as his brain stops to consider that. He'd never been here, but he clearly remembered a dangerous storm of sand that could rip a man apart in less time than it took a chef to chop a carrot. His armor wouldn't protect him, even though it could be made water-proof the sand would shred it down over a few days, he would need something more.
Osore tells his comrades to meet him at the gates and wanders off to buy some camels, water, and thick skins that would hopefully protect them from the worst. When he finds out that he may as well just buy company of travelling guides he does that instead. Some questions later and they're heading out with the guides laughing that he thought he'd ride a camel instead of using it to haul the water.
Osore himself was too busy dealing with a sudden bout of vomitting to worry, and was more concerned about cleaning his armor out in this place.
(Heading for Wind! Topic left, S-rank + half time card = 15 minutes)
