When a dying man, erm, warrior, is pushed to the limit, their body takes on some physical changes. Mere adrenaline kept me alive, fighting with a mysterious magician and an unfamiliar weapon, pretty much required it.

The rapier in my hand, although I knew that the technology from my time was nowhere far enough to produce one, felt natural and was effective enough for me to use it beyond its own purpose.

If I survived, and told anyone about these worgs, it would probably better to exclude certain details from this encounter. I in fact, would not mention that Jonathan did more of the work. That aside, there was yet another shocking thing I learned about myself.

When I first came to, I couldn't move my body the way I wanted to. I fell down, had tough times walking and running, and overall, couldn't exert much strength. Now, when I was at risk of death, and honestly, the worgs could individually pin me and tear out my  throat, my body felt more than natural. It moved and thought, and reacted so much faster than my own consciousness.

It was scary. In my vision, the worgs would suddenly appear to move slowly, and my own thought process slowed down, but not the nearly automatic movement of my arm. I parried as best as I could, almost frozen in front of my liberated blood.

Occasionally, when the worgs made the effort to coordinate, I would dodge so quickly that I knew that getting hit would be hard. My eyes moved by themselves too, and I scored a view of Jonathan, the only one to seem matched to me in speed.

When it was over, my stomach felt wrong and I immediately fell to my knees and had to hold back the urge to vomit. The soft pools of red were disgusting enough, but the worst thing was that the worg corpses closest to Jonathan were singed and positively roasted in spots.

He managed to be completely unharmed, and I knew that because of his curse he wouldn't say much. We moved far and out and sight, until we could rest again.

"Stay," I heard in my head, even though I had no intention of moving from my spot. The weather was warmer and hotter and the injuries I had felt horrible and pulsed ever so slightly. With a little utterance, Jonathan glowed in a bright light and the same warmth flooded over me, sealing my wounds.

He evidently did not need any, and after small break, we continued. However, while he was never physically hurt, he seemed to share a greater share of the exhaustion, seemingly originating from his use of magic. He was sweating and had to stop often, and during the afternoon he put his cloak over his head and took off some of the leather protection.

The vegetation along our search was troublesome too. I dared not to remove any of my outerwear. The plants were so prickly and covered in small biting insects. The worst part was, we weren't even that far away from the trail.

The mere air, besides the humidity, felt unnatural and threatening. It was hard to estimate, but in total we walked perhaps twelve or so miles, but the general scenery and climate changed.

The path we took became steeper and steeper until finally, it leveled off completely. We were in a woodland, but over a few dozen feet, it became shrub, and then, nothing.

Yes, even though our elevation was not very much, all greenery disappeared from our view. There was just sand. Now, the air was completely windless, and it held a sense of doom. I bent down and coursed the grains through my hand.

It was no illusion. I looked forward, and while Jonathan was stoic enough, even he had difficulty advancing through the rubbish sand. Also, I couldn't see the horizon. Instead, a heavy haze of dust, the same color as the sand itself simply blanketed the sky.

"Rest here," Jonathan said, but something strange was going on here. A lich's phylactery could indeed cause the strange landscape, but Jonathan didn't convey any worry. In fact, although we were supposed to head towards the source of interference, wasn't camping here dangerous?

He was suspicious. Very suspicious.

He settled himself into the sand and created a magical ward against the wind and sand, and I would have been unsatisfied with that, but over time, the sand retreated around the markings until the natural, albeit hostile, vegetation returned.

My concerns about his resilience also ended when he fell asleep close to the end of his watch shift. The ward didn't extend very hard, but it was enough to cover our tent, though it was a strange feeling that I couldn't see the stars. Instead, the same haze surrounded us, and while I was awake, I felt claustrophobic and trapped.

Left unanswered, if he was so able to kill those worgs, why did he need my help. He put my valuable life in danger for no reason. There was nothing to be done about it anymore, but it was pretty unfair.

In the end, I waited for morning, because there was not much to lookout for, and I actually felt more tired when it was time to start moving.

The surrounding were creepy, but I wasn't that scared, and I got over their ominous effect after a few hours, and so it was smooth sailing until we got to the middle of the artificial desert.

Now, Jonathan seemed more determined, and he saw, before I did, a large deep structure, built into sheer rock.