John walked the desert alone, the blazing sun bearing down on him. He pulled his large-brimmed hat down a bit more to cover his eyes. It was hot as hell and he had to walk these empty sand dunes, he wished he had a horse. He'd never seen a horse here in Shale but there must be one somewhere, right?
He grabbed his canteen and took a swig from it, the lukewarm water ran down his throat. He didn't need to drink but it still felt nice. He crested another dune and saw a small half-buried home in the sand, he approached it carefully.
It was small, perhaps only big enough for 2 to 3 people. It had another small shed and a well attached to it and was on a bit of solid rock rather than sand. A place to refill his water, hopefully. As he approached his hand went to his hips, he hovered over one of his pistols. He had 3 pistols, 2 of them were conventional revolvers and the last one a Fear-Made weapon. He drew a conventional one and cocked the hammer back, he approached the door and pushed it open.
Inside was a single room and a loft, it had a small stove in the center with a table nearby and a bed in the corner. There were some cabinets against one wall and dishes left out on the table. The place seemed uninhabited though, despite the sand that filled parts of the room through the open windows. He approached carefully and climbed the ladder to the loft. A child's bed was pushed into the far corner but it looked like no one had used it in years.
John uncocked his revolver and slid it back into his holster, just another abandoned house out here in the Forsaken Desert. He slid down the ladder and climbed out through a window to the shed, when he opened it he saw a variety of old tools set up like someone had just put them back. He went over to the well and pulled up its bucket, it was filled with water.
"Damn good luck," John said. "Gonna refill my canteen,"
John placed the bucket on the ground then searched through his pack for a few minutes until he pulled out a length of string with various green and violet beads. It was a Fear-Made item, it purified diseases from small quantities of liquid that it was dipped into. It had cost him a good chunk of Dichotomy Essence but it was well worth it, it made his life a lot easier.
He refilled his canteens then dipped the item in each and held it there for 30 seconds before moving onto the next. It took only a few minutes before he was ready to go. As he was about to leave he gave another quick look over the house and shed, it took a keen eye and some digging to get what he wanted. Firewood. He added some of what he found to his supply then continued off into the desert.
He wandered for hours more until the sun began to dip, Night was coming. He found a safe nook next to some jutting out rocks and set up his campsite. He put a tarp out over where he laid his belongings and sleeping bag then made a small area for his fire. He lit the fire then placed a lantern down and turned it on as well, it would provide better lighting but not heat. As the sun finally dipped below the horizon he sat down beside the fire and pulled out some food, once again, as a Reborn, he didn't need food or drink but it just felt nice to have. Reminded him of home, of living.
He prepared a simple stew and ate it, it was a nice warm meal. He looked up at the sky expecting stars but there were none, nothing about this whole damn world made sense. Some Regions he had heard of had stars because their makers put them there but most didn't, instead you just had to stare at an infinite empty blackness whenever Night came. He watched the edge of the light looking for any sign of anything but saw nothing, it was unlikely anything would happen to him. He let out a long sigh, his breath crystalizing in the air before him as he crawled under his tarp and into his bedroll.
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He laid in fitful sleep, nightmares assailing his mind. You could never escape them no matter how hard you tried to, he just tried to live with them. All of his worst fears came true in them and he could do nothing to stop it. They seemed to stretch on forever until he finally awoke as the sun shone down. He sat up and took a few deep breaths, best to try and forget the terrors of the night before.
He spent some time making a meal then packed up camp. Once it was done he returned to his journey through the seemingly endless dunes, he had somewhere to be. He was slowly making his way through the Forsaken Desert towards Paradise, home of the Gambler. An old friend of his left him for dead out here in these dunes, he was so far in that he was closer to the Ashen Seas or the True Barrens than most other parts of Shale.
They were both hunting for treasure and their little posse caught wind of a Page in an old abandoned city. They set out with 30 folks, 5 Reborn and 25 Shaleborn, towards the city. By the time they reached the place there were only 5 Reborn and 7 Shaleborn left from the ravages of the desert, they entered the place but it was a madhouse. Whatever happened there had left the place teeming with Wraiths, Fragments of Death, and they had to fight through hell to reach the city center. Only John and his ally Alex, a Shaleborn, reached the place and found the Page, they took it and the whole city began to collapse.
They managed to escape, obviously, but Alex obviously had different ideas then John, he wanted the Page all to himself. So he shot John right through the head and left him dead, he was likely heading towards Paradise to find a buyer for the Page then gamble all that money. Of course, John didn't die, his Dichotomies were strong enough to save him, and he eventually dragged himself to a nearby town. Rest of that is history. Now John was gonna get to Paradise, find Alex and open his mind to the mistake he made, preferably he was gonna use some lead to do it.
As he walked humming an old tune to himself his foot suddenly struck something, he stumbled back hopping on one foot.
"Ah, damn," John said. "Fuckin' rocks in the sand,"
John shook his foot a bit then looked down at what he had hit, he didn't see a rock but instead a person mostly buried in sand. He looked to have smooth grey skin with some patches of dark earthen flesh, his eyes which hung half open seemed to change color. He had learned to identify the basic races but he had no idea which this person was. He crouched down and pressed two fingers against his neck, his heart was still beating. John considered things for a moment, did he really have the time to be helping some stranger out in the dunes?
He thought for a moment but just as he was about to leave he remembered the kind old man who had taken him in after what had happened, the old man only asked that he try saving folks himself if he got the chance. He let out a curse under his breath then grabbed onto the buried man and pulled him. It took a bit of effort before he finally dragged the man out.
He was dressed in a military uniform and had a strange unnatural looking breastplate, in one of his hands was a Fear-Made weapon, a hammer specifically, and in the other was a lantern which was now completely dim. This person though looked no older than maybe 19, he wasn't sure. They sure as hell had some expensive equipment though, either item looked like it could go for large sums if sold to the right person.
John checked over the kid for wounds but found none. 'Must have a strong Dichotomy,' John thought, 'It'll make this a lot easier,'. John picked up the unconscious man and wandered for a bit until he found a place to camp. He wouldn't go as far today but he could at least give this man a chance to wake.
He set his tarp and bedroll then laid the man on it, he sat beside him and carefully made him drink some water. He sat beside the stranger for the rest of the day and night, hoping he would wake up come morning.
