Demda started a bit when Hankley reached for her hand, a little skiddish at first but allowed it ultimately. She didn’t imagine this peaceful Qi’ora would be able to overpower her, much less have the inclination based on all that Demda had seen. Her skin was nicely textured on her skinny hands, with vein-like protrusions that reminded her of palm leaves. The scout followed her host along to her cottage.
Demda had some more water from her skin before Hankley asked her how she got down this far south. Indeed, often since separation from the rest of the survey group, Demda had wondered much the same. But her meandering wanderings had taken her far afield of the expedition. She didn’t imagine that they’d have coin for her efforts in leading the operation if she returned to Nashaki. It may be high time to relocate, and leave the Hotlands for good.
”I was part of a survey group, we were looking for treasures and artifacts in the Eastern and Southern Hotlands. Was my job to make sure they had all they needed for the operation. We started at the South, near the Sky Caves to gather information on artifacts, then made our way to the Desert Rose.” Demda shook her head, ”When we attempted to make our way to the fabled Temple of Illusions, we were separated by a terrible sandstorm.”
“Since then, I imagine they made their way back to Nashaki, if they survived at all. But I wandered and got lost… eventually ending up around this green land.” Demda sighed, and then nodded gratefully at the Qi’ora’s question about a grazing platter.
”It’s probably better than anything I’ve been treated to in Nashaki. And whether it’s lavish as anything… That depends on how close you are to the city’s center.” Demda for her part lived most of her life nearer to the outskirts than anywhere else.
Idly, Demda’s hand drifted down into her belt satchel, taking out the treasured compass that she’d found on the journey the Caravansary had made a cycle prior. It had the bronze boss of a desert wolf on its metalwork, well varnished. The glass couldn’t be broken, as far as she could tell. The needle, as always pointed true north, which revealed her to be facing to the west as she sat at the table.
”I’ve never seen a creature like Brach before… What is he, if you don’t mind my asking?” Demda knew camels… and of course Monk was the coveted breed of a prized thorned horse. But the ‘oxen’ seemed almost like one of the desert beetles or scarabs, with it’s strange mandibles that looked sharp enough to rend flesh.
