[h3][center][color=navajowhite]One Day Ago[/color][/center][/h3]

"Let me tell you, a story, that happened long ago. It's a tale as old as time itself, from a place few men dare to go. The young kings, the rulers, of times long gone by. They held the key life- but their greed would swallow the good, and soon their people would die," Ivan sung, his head swimming in the lyrics of yet another story that he'd come to know by heart. His skull boiled and flesh stung underneath his wrappings, the lone man marching across a flat sheet of shattered earth. 

The clay ground beneath his feet crumbled lightly with each step, sunlight roasting the almost white earth to try and blind anyone looking out on it too long. All Ivan could see was the ground though; unaware of the light overhead as his only indication that it was day was the sizzling he could feel on his head. Still he marched though, his song diluting reality as thought retracted from the pain of the real world. Dust began to pick up around his feet, trailing behind him and clinging to his clothing like Ivan possessed a static cling.

It had been at least two days since leaving Forbes, and Ivan wasn't sure how far he'd gone any longer, his only solid knowledge being that he was heading Northeast. Depending on his luck he'd reach Laguna or Russel City in about a day's time, with the worst case scenario being he hit Mount Nike and had to trek around it to get to Dresden. Whatever happened though, in at least about a day there'd be enough loose material for Ivan to utilize and move faster through the desert as he had learned the terrain maps quite well since they affected how he moved from place to place. Desert flats were preferably avoided though he'd made an exception this time, as it had been more than a year since he'd visited the North of Dust and wanted to head that way again. So he kept marching, stopping only once to drink from one of the many plastic water bottles he kept in his bag. 

[h3][center][color=navajowhite]Now[/color][/center][/h3]

The terrain had changed some time last night, and with renewed energy Ivan was rolling through the desert on a mound of dirt and pebbles. The hot material worked it's way into every space between his clothing, a cloud of dust kicking up behind him as Ivan willed the little hill to move faster. The terrain change had told him he'd missed Laguna, though he could care less as it was more out of the way than any of his other rest stops. Most of his food was gone at this point, and water was running low but Ivan reassured himself he'd reach a city soon. He had about enough currency to buy himself a drink or two at a bar depending on how much they charged, and that thought alone pushed him to keep going.

Then the usual silence of the desert broke, and like jumping off a skateboard Ivan quickly brought his legs up to speed while the dust around his legs dispersed. It was an engine, and not too far off at that, which prompted Ivan to quickly find higher ground and figure out where they were in order to avoid them. Bandits roved the wastelands, and wouldn't think twice about trying to rob him, so with defense in mind Ivan loaded his rocket launcher but kept it on his back. Quickly he climbed the nearest ridge and looked around, low to the ground in hopes of avoiding being seen by anyone. The colour of his clothing often helped Ivan blend with the environment, plus it helped that the dirt in the area clung to him like lint on a sock.

Hooded eyes scanning the expanse of desert, Ivan quickly identified the source of the noise and watched as the dirty outline of a vehicle roared across the earth. Whoever was inside had a great sense of urgency, and it's sudden crash frightened him to no end. There had been nothing to stop the vehicle that Ivan could see, but after trying to make out more detail he believed he could see what must have been a bike. [i]This is none of my business,[/i] he thought as the aftermath of the crash made things easier to see. Whatever had happened was their own problem, and Ivan was preparing to slide back down the ridge and alter his course to head towards where the truck had come from. Chances were it got out of the city, meaning perhaps Ivan was closer than he'd hoped for, but before he left the sound of shouting drew him back to the scene.

Something was happening, and it didn't seem to be very pleasant, though Ivan could only guess what was going on since whoever was there wasn't dirty enough to be seen from a distance. He couldn't hear their words either, recognizing only distressed shouts, and somewhat fearfully the man slunk down the hill a little more to avoid being seen. There was a conflict of some sort, the truck was ripped apart and it's pieces hung in the air, and it was then he realized that whatever was happening must be immortal related. It had been too long since he'd met another like him, and [i]perhaps,[/i] he pondered, [i]it's with good reason[/i]. So all he could do, much to his dismay, was watch and hope things settled down enough that he could get closer to inspect. If it turned out they were all dead when he got down there so be it, but it was better than risking being noticed by trying to see better.