The Desert Caravan Meme

[cornichaun]

The Desert Caravan Meme



The sky is unimaginably large. Infinity as a pale, blinding blue, never a cloud. Your eyes always sting from the sand and from the bright, painful light.

This is the desert. It is the desert that lives in poetry: the shifting, formless sea of white and gold and red, in slow, sinking dune-waves. This is the desert of scorched cliffs and ancient stone; it is the desert of vast, eternal wind, bringing the bite of grit to bare skin. Sun’s heat untempered by mercy and parched land flickering with false hope of oasis.

This is the desert of legend: the desert that hides prophets tucked in endless emptiness, where djinnis whisper on the winds and magic wells from the sands themselves. This is the land that can trap you and drain you, of memory, of past, of weakness; the land that secrets treasure away in caves and holds salvation in hidden water. This is the land that bakes you and cures you, lets the soft clay of your soul shape into something new.

The desert is a place forever between, broken with paths, sliced and scarred for the sake of trade. But the desert is a place itself, too, home for the nomads, the caravanserai, the dotted strips of live eked out of the dry. Home to the snakes and the birds and the twisted, thorny scrub, the camels and the horses.

It will seduce you with the rapture of quiet, the beauty of an emptiness that is never truly empty. But it will deceive you, too: a mountain days away that seems close enough to touch; a camp close enough to hear, but hidden in a fold of the dunes. If you lose your way, you could die of thirst an arms length from salvation. Dunes shift; paths bend. If you do not know the desert, it will kill you.

Who are you?
A traveler, trusting in the grace of a guide to bring your caravan safe to the other side;
A guide, walking by stars and distant hills through the land you know by heart;
One belonging to a caravanserai, an enclave of the desert, by precious water, gleaning a living from the harsh land and the travelers passing through;
A bandit, preying on the slow, plodding merchants;
A nomad, with the desert in your blood, watching the intruders pass through;
A hermit, solitary and empty, grown accustomed to the silence;
Or a creature of magic: a djinni, a sorcerer, a witch, a prophet?

What has happened?
An ordinary, exhausting day of travel, your mouth dry as dust?
Have you lost your way, straying, along and baking in the sun —
A raid by bandits, to take money, goods — people?
War, over territory? Over water?
Strangers arriving in the caravanserai?
Happening upon a celebration, of life, water, harvest?
A rainstorm, for the first time in years? A sandstorm, deadly, and far more common?
Or something else?

Comments

Re: sinjir rath velus | star wars

[ataashihunter]

You want him as a guide running into Bull as a guard? Could be AU could be something ))

Re: sinjir rath velus | star wars

[drunk_ish]

Works for me! Has to be some kind of AU, otherwise how are they even in the same location, lmao. How about a vague desert-magic-verse -- I wish I knew more about Dragon Age.

[ataashihunter]

The Iron Bull walked over to the guide, they were only a few days out, finally camping after a long day of traveling. Darkness had fallen and there was a group cooking by the fire. Bull carried a waterskin with him, sweet fresh mountain water that they had stocked up where they could buy it.

"Hi there, thirsty?" He offers the water.

[drunk_ish]

Sinjir gives the impression of being somewhat out of it, most of the time. Airs of alcohol drift in subtle vapors about his person, depending on the time of day, the accessibility of ale, and his own personal emotional state. He keeps to himself.

He glances up, blinking slightly reddened eyes at the hulking Bull.

"Yes, actually," he says. He accepts, takes a mouthful, rolling it around his tongue to savor the sweet purity of the water, before swallowing and taking another gulp. He's realizing that he hasn't actually paid much attention to what's going on in this caravan. His life has blurred into a long series of desert transits.

The desert is a wonderful place to lose oneself.

"How is the camp?" asks Sinjir. "Bandit-free?"

[ataashihunter]

"If you don't count the merchants we are here to protect." Bull gives him a half smile. "Don't worry about bandits. The Chargers will make them regret it if they attack. It is what we do best after all."

He leans against the nearest wagon, making it creak, looking Sinjir over rather critically. "Which brings me to what you do best. I don't mind a drink every now and again, but I am not the only one who has noticed. We don't have enough food or water to get lost out here for weeks, you sure you're up to the task?"

[drunk_ish]

He looks up to the stars.

"The first time I came this way," he says, "it was with a bandit who had lived out here his entire life. He was defiant. He tried to escape, I don't know how many times. Again, and again. He bit me, once -- still have the scars on my wrist. But he knew where to go, and I didn't. I was dizzy out here; the sky is so large."

He doesn't really know what the point of this story is.

[ataashihunter]

"It is. And so quiet. Quite different from what I have been used to." He raises an eyebrow, is the guide simply trying to distract him? "You going to bite?"

[drunk_ish]

"Planning on asking me to?" returns Sinjir. Laughs, at himself. "No," he says, "I've come a long way since then. I know the path. You don't have to fear being lost."

[ataashihunter]

"I wouldn't be opposed to biting. But not just out of the blue. There is context you know. And preferably a bed."

He studies Sinjir for a moment longer and then nods. "Good, because if there was the chance of that I'd rather know before hand."

[drunk_ish]

"You wouldn't," says Sinjir. "Know. Until we started to die from lack of water. And then it would be too late."

A beat.

"I'm feeling a bit maudlin," he notes, "apparently."

[ataashihunter]

"Indeed." Bull looks at him for a long moment and then settles next to him in the sand.

"Why? What brought it on? And what are you going to do about that?"