Page 12 of The Demon God's Desire

The first thing I have to do is find out where I am. I have a wooden compass in my pack. It is about the only useful thing in this damned pack.

After fiddling with it, and squinting up at the sun, I calculate that in the process of fighting with the orcs, I’ve been pushed closer to the South of Tlouz- and there is nothing in south Tlouz.

“Damn this!” I curse and chuck the compass to the ground.

Another wave of nauseas pain washes over me and I stumble sideways.

I have to keep moving, I know. No matter how much pain I am in. The desert is a killer, and she is merciless.

I need to get back to the road, and hopefully I can flag down any dark elves traveling to and from the city.

They should recognize my status by my clothing and help me get back to the city.

As I walk, I start to wonder whether the orcs ambushed us at this spot purposefully. They have led us – if the rest of my men are in the same area – completely South.

I suppose it is better for them the further away we are from the West.

Walking towards the road is more difficult than I assume it would be. And soon I realize that I am nowhere close to the road.

Instead, if my occasional, painful glances at the sun are correct, I am walking South East.

A sudden wind rises, lifting sand, and twisting it into beautiful, magical patterns.

Is it the Hearthkeeper trying to communicate with me?

No, I am too injured and dazed to think straight apparently.

I just have to keep moving. If I stop, I will be as good as dead.

I walk and walk, falling to my knees more times than I care to count, cursing the fact that my pack has no supplies in it beyond a large piece of fabric to wrap around my body.

It is only when the sun has set, and risen again that I stop.

I am even further away from the west, and away from any hope of help. And in my current state, I am too far away from Jurtil to make it there.

It seems that the only way I am getting back home is in a box. If my body is ever found.

I cannot continue on,I think to myself, as I fall to my knees.

I am praying to the Hearthkeeper as I fall on my front. I am lying prone as I pray to her, to deliver me from the evil of the desert.

I am not sure how to keep going.

Guide me,I ask her.Save me. Guide me.

I smell the smoke first. My eyes are closed, and my face is covered in sand when I open them.

I must be dreaming. I dazedly watch as venomous pillas bugs slither past me, a pace away from my nose.

Then I lift my head.

I am certainly not dreaming.

The smoke that I am smelling is really. And it is coming from a camp nearby. I know right away that it isn’t a mirage either, though I am almost fooled by the desert.

Be careful of the desert. She is a wily adversary.The Hearthkeeper’s voice reverberates through my head.

It is a camp. And it certainly does not belong to any dark elves.