Upon moonlit dunes, amongst the waves of a seemingly endless sea of sand and scorched stone, a wagon travelled along the winding ridges of the rolling dunes.

Within the cluttered confines of the wagon, the sound of mumbled words could scarcely be heard beneath the creaking of wooden wheels against coarse sand, along with the muffled sound of leather boots against sand outside of the wagon.

"What are you doing?"

A rough, grumbling voice inquired.

"Ah- sorry did i wake you?"

The mumbling Priestess responded. Her grey eyes glanced over to the disheveled man clad in a thick leather great coat that had been draped over his body like a blanket.

"Not really, but when someone's incanting something, i can't sleep as snug as I'd like you know?"

He shifted up from resting position of leaning on the a chained crate and a few boxes that were stacked atop one another. He continued with a yawn, before covering his eyes from the light of a small glass tube affixed to one of the wooden arches above, a special kind of fire fly buzzed within with

"Thought you were about to blast something to smithereens..."

She chuckled softly, leaning back into the blanket she had been given earlier by her current travelling companion.

"Ah... right apologies for that, i was just practicing."

"Practicing? you nervous?"

She paused for a moment before responding to him.

"I- uh- yes... I'm sorry i know you need a more ex-"

"No, no... don't apologize kid. Getting nervous in this field of work is only natural, its good to be nervous, keeps you on your toes. Trust me, I've seen plenty of mages and sages catch an arrow with their knee, cause they weren't in position, cocky bastards deserve a minced meat knee for endangering everyone."

A grim smile furled onto her lips with the gruesome image he had put into her mind, but she appreciated his attempt at comforting words nonetheless, even if they were rather odd.

"Ah, okay... thank you. I'll keep being nervous I guess?"

The man chuckled before leaning back himself, getting back into a position to rest his weary eyes.

"Yeah you keep doing that, just don't get so racked up that you forget your incantations-"

His words were interrupted by the slow stop of the wagon. The Coachman slipped his head in past the white fabric that covered the wagons wooden frame. His soft curly hair was capped off by a hat that was just a little too small for his head.

"We'll stop here for the night, that town you showed me should be a couple hours away if the maps right. Oh and Mitchel, you'll still be paying me extra for this right?"

Mitchel once more got up from his position with a groan.

"Yes, i will. Been doing this long enough to afford something like this, so stop nagging me about it."

The Coachman laughed nervously, a crooked smile cracked on his lips as he spoke.

"Y-Yes, of course, ill- uh- see to setting up camp now..."

Mitchel rose to his feet, cracking his back with a slight wince.

"damn- Okay, Seria get up, we gotta set up camp."

The priestess nodded, getting up as well she quickly got to work, sliding aside the crates and boxes filled with foods, equipment, spices and weapons. Though, as she sorted through the crates, she got curious of Mitchels sudden appearance.

They had met at the main Guild hall in the south. She was simply browsing the quests that had been posted recently, seeing if she could pick up any simple requests, preferably one with a few other members of the guild. After all, taking on quests by ones self was a dangerous thing especially if ones vocation was of a less combat orientated vocation... such as a priestess.

Fortunately for her, she hadn't any need to go searching as she was approached by Mitchel. His request was simple, assist him to escort a wagon to a designated location, he had the rank of silver and along with his defender vocation pairing nicely with hers, plus Mitchel was a reputable individual, it seemed simple enough... the pay was good too, one might even say too good to be true. Now that she thought upon it, she should've seen the signs sooner. A well paying Job for a relatively simple quest, next to no elaboration on any threats they may face asides from "Bandits and maybe some undead", along with the designated location being a town that has no official recognition on any formal map? In hindsight, It'd take a riverbed pebble brained fool to take such a request even if it came from a well known veteran of the guild. Yet here she was, being that very same pebble brained fool.

With a sigh parting her lips as she lugged a hefty camping kit onto her back, she finally built up the courage to ask Mitchel about why they were going to this location that she only knew as "Black Water".

"Mitchel?"

Mitchel simply acknowledged her call for him with a low hum as he bent down to pick up a crate, the very same crate he had been resting on ever since they started this journey.

"Why are we going to Black Water?"

Mitchel paused for a moment as he heaved the chained crate up to his chest. Walking over to the back of the wagon as he talked.

"Why? The pay not good enough for you?"

A huff left her lips as she followed him.

"No, I'm just curious is all. You haven't talked about the quest since we departed from the Guild."

Mitchel scoffed, pushing aside the white fabric that blanketed the wagon before he stepped out into the obsidian veil of night.

"For all that is holy, fine. If it gets you to stop asking- Oh and grab a torch on your way out along with the flint next to it-"

Seria smiled, a little excited that she might be getting to know why they're all the out in the west, far from their home in the south. Searching around for a bit, she found the torch propped up against a box, but the flint was nowhere to be found.

"Hmmm..."

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She hummed as she thought, searching through the nearby sacks of fruits and vegetables, in between the crates and boxes, even in the crate she found the torch on, but she found nothing except for a silver necklace atop a purple pillow, purple gems encrusted around a central Mookaite Jasper of brilliant orange, purple and blue hues that intertwined within its smooth refined form.

"Huh... fancy- wait, no, flint... I need flint. Uhm, maybe Mitchel knows."

She went to go call Mitchel to ask for help, but when she stuck her head out of the wagon, she caught a glimpse of something shimmering in moons light, swiftly moving around the cart, the sound of foot steps muffled by sand.

"Mitchel?"

She called out to him, hoping down from the wagon. slowly shifting towards the corner that the glimmering object that had just rounded the corner. peering around the corner, she found nothing, not even foot prints in the sand.

"Mitchel? If this is a joke- its not funny anymore- AH-"

She screamed as she felt a pair of hands grab onto her shoulder, only for her fearful screech to be met with laughter from Mitchel.

"HA! ACK-"

Seria had snapped around and slapped him, leaving a small red print in his jawline.

"MITCHEL! You ass!"

Rubbing his saw jaw, he chuckled, a mixed smile of amusement and pain curled on his this lips.

"Sorry, sorry- just wanted to spook you a little, keep you on your toes you know?"

Seria huffed, pushing the torch into his chest before storming off towards the Coachman

"No, I don't. Seriously who does that? And here's your torch, I'm going to go help set up the camp."

Mitchel sighed, not particularly happy that his little joke didn't blow over so well. But as he looked down to the torch that he gripped against his chest, he noticed the flint at his feet, he couldn't see it very well in the darkness, but the nebulas above did well enough to illuminate it just enough for him to see its outline against the sand. Picking it up, he reached into the wagon and grabbed his steel shoulder pauldron.

Eventually, he made his way back to Seria and the Coachman, where they were setting up the tents, a campfire had already been set out but it hadn't been lit yet. Crouching down he pulled out a small bottle of oil from one of his hip pouches that lined his belt, right beneath his leather vest. Covering the head of the fabric lined torch with the oil, he placed his steel pauldron next to it before striking his pauldron and lighting the torch with the sparks that flew off.

-

Eventually the camp had been fully set up, three tents side by side with a torch stand in front of them, further in front of them sat the wagon with a crackling campfire that blazing beneath a crockpot. A broth of thick meat chunks and vegetables bubbled and frothed, the smell of dried meats and pickled vegetables wafted throughout the air, carried by the smoke that was blown by the gnawing icy winds of the deserts nights. Mitchel crouched over the rather small crockpot, ladle in hand and stern eyes staring at the broth before him with hesitation as he took a scoop with his ladle, taking a sip of the piping hot broth from the ladle. It was salty... the dried meats and pickled vegetables had made the broth overly salty, he had tried to lessen it with a small bit of butter, but unfortunately it didn't have much of an affect. With a sigh, he mumbled to himself before standing up.

"Good enough... better than nothing after all."

Seria was sat next to the Coachman who held a hand crossbow in his lap, who was actually named Rorie. They were having a simple conversation about their experiences... well, more specifically Rorie was talking about his experiences on the road, whilst Seria admitted that she'd only gone on two quests before Mitchel had picked her up. They had been talking back and forth for a while now, discussing many topics, from Rorie being surprised that Seria wasn't blind, and that grey was indeed her natural eye colour, to Seria being surprised that Rorie was indeed a male, despite his rather feminine looks. Eventually their idle chatter by the campfire was interrupted by the loud clangs of a ladle against a pot.

"Alright! foods ready, it's not the best but its better than going to bed on an empty stomach!"

The two gathered around the pot looking down at the broth with differing reactions from the both of them, Seria was a little concerned by the smell, whilst Rorie seemed rather happy. Mitchel handed the two of them a bowl each with a piece of bread, small pieces of dried meat mystery meat and pickled lettuce floated to the top of the broth with a bubble. the smell alone was off setting for Seria, but after a month of travel, she's grown a small bit accustomed to Mitchels... unique cooking. But every time he made a meal, Rorie seemed to eat it up with a smile, always catching a concerned side eye from Seria.

Picking up the bread she dipped it in the broth, her hand shaking a little as she pulled it in to take a bite. Mitchel noticed her hesitation, with a sigh he swiftly smacked the back of her hand with his ladle in such a way that it'd force the bred into her mouth. With a bread gagged cough she spat out the salt soaked chunk of bread she accidentally bit off.

"Mitchel! AGAIN?"

Mitchel simply sighed.

"Yes, again. It's not the best but it isn't that bad to be shaking you spoiled brat, even if it is it's better than going to bed hungry."

Seria puffed her cheeks with a huff, rubbing the back of her sore hand, before Mitchel shrugged at her, pointing at Rorie who was happily chowing down on the bread and broth.

"If it was actually that bad, then Rorie wouldn't eat it up."

Seria glared at Rorie who was seemingly completely engrossed in the food.

"Seriously? Rorie I don't get how you stomach such a thing- OW- Stop hitting me!"

Mitchel had whacked the back of her head with his ladle.

"I will, when you stop insulting the food!"

"UGH- Fine!”

Seria contemplated for but a moment about trying to sneak Rorie the rest of her broth and trading it for the remainder of his bread, but she knew if she were to be caught, Mitchel would have a ladle ready for her. With a sigh of defeat she ate her food, rather regrettably it didn’t taste that bad, admittedly she played up its awful taste, but it still tasted subpar at best. Though, fortunately for her or unfortunately for Mitchel, she wouldn’t haft to eat the rest of it when the sound of a leather boot stomping down and the distinctive click of spring loaded steel rung out from behind Mitchel.

Feeling cold steel pressed up against the back of his head, Mitchel froze as his eyes widened. A muffled voice could be heard from behind him, and peering from over his shoulder was a set of orange eyes beneath a wide rugged brim of a hat.

“Hey now… no need to get all quiet… I was just enjoying your conversation.”

A look of shock spread across the faces of both Seria and Rorie as they realised that they had been ambushed by a bandit. And Mitchel was the one to be caught off guard, he frantically gestured with his gaze for Rorie to use the crossbow that he had in his lap, but before he could even lower his hands to touch it, the bandit spoke once more with a calm and scratchy voice.

”Now, now, no need for all that. I’m sure y’all know what’ll happen if your pal there reaches for that lil ’ol crossbow of theirs. Nothin good I can tell ya. Why don’tcha give that old piece over here? Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of it.”

Mitchels heart was racing, he knew he had been had. There must be a way out of this situation. Perhaps a swift manoeuvre would disarm this bandit-

His line of thought was cut off by a stinging pain in his side and the feeling of cold hard steel pressing into his flesh.

“Now look, before you go ahead and try anything stupid. Unless you want these two lasses to have a little extra iron in their meal here. Then I’d suggest sitting real tight and snug okay?”

Mitchel gritted his teeth as he felt the blood flow out of his small wound and onto the blade. But he still felt steel against the back of head.

“Rorie- give the man the crossbow-“

”B-but mitch-“

”Give. Him. The crossbow.”

A small grin spread on his lips. Rorie was a crack shot with a crossbow, he knew that before whatever blade he had against the back of his skull, an arrow would pierced the bandits eye- only problem was… the bandit ruined his plan and wiped that smirk off Mitchels face.

”Oh- right, before I forget, you.”

Another arm appeared from behind Mitchel whilst the blade was still digging into his side. Pointing at Seria he commanded her.

”You, throw the cross bow over, and if the other lil’ missy over there even touches the crossbow, this man’s brains is gonna get a little breathing room. Understood?”

Seria simply nodded, unsure of what she could do other than comply. Hesitantly, she grabbed the crossbow from stories lap and chucked it over to the campfire.

“Right, on your knees knight.”

”what?”

A searing pain shot through his body as the blade dug deeper into his side. Gritting his teeth as his face twisted in pain, he dropped to his knees, allowing the light to reach the bandit revealing him.

orange eyes, a wide brimmed rugged hat, four arms, four revolvers with two holsters on his thighs and the other two were strapped to the base of his long scorpion tail. A strange chitinous mask was latched onto his face, it only covered his mouth and nose, as it’s long segmented legs latched onto his face like some kind of parasitic insect.

Pulling out a rope from his waist belt, he tied up Mitchel before moving to tie up Seria and Rorie. A sour end to such a pleasant night.