[u]Yarosmere Mission[/u]

[i]Sansar, Yarosmere capital.[/i]

It had been several long weeks ride from the College to Yarosmere's capital. Fortunately for all on the mission, the wagon they were put in was both spacious and comfortable. They were designed for the transportation of people, unlike the ones used on earlier missions. Thus, the Yarosmerian team traveled in comfort. Well, relative comfort. The seemingly overnight change from the frigid temperatures of winter to the burning temperatures of the desert caused discomfort, most noticeably in Aramir. The blue snow elf seemed to constantly have a sheen of sweat on her body as the hateful sun bore down on her. She was obviously miserable, but bore it stoically enough, if given to bouts of whining at times. 

As they traveled through Yarosmere they saw very few signs of the madness that had overtaken the area. Priests on stands in small villages, preaching about the Sand God. Distant puffs of smoke. Age old skeletons hanging from the trees. Some indication that something wasn't right, but nothing to indicate the reports they had heard. It was only when they reached the walls of Sansar that the reports were confirmed.

The walls were lined with skulls. Mostly human and/or long decayed, but some were clearly non-human and/or fresh. The city gates were hung with corpses. Smoke from various fires could be seen in the distance, and the smell of burnt flesh hung in the air. They passed by a Naga being burned alive, a priest preaching to a large crowd in front of it. The Naga was firmly restrained, layers upon layers of ropes, chains, and weapons tying and impaling it to the stake. The priest was shouting something, his sand brown robes fluttering along with the bandage around his eyes. "Chosen of the prophet." Their wagon drive elaborated, watching. "They blind themselves so to better see the will of the Sand God."

They passed similar horrors along the way, eventually stopping at the palace. A man was waiting for them, grinning in welcome as he washed blood off of his hands. "Yolin. Second in command to the Prophet. Commander of the Deliverers of Penance. Torturers of the Sand God. Be careful." Their driver murmured once more, quickly driving off as they all piled out. 

"Welcome, welcome!" Yolin cried, going to shake each of their hands. Aramir barely swallowed her distaste as she took his hand. "The Prophet begs forgivness, but he will be busy most of the day. He bade me to show you the sights of our wonderful city, and keep you occupied with it's delights until he can meet you for dinner later tonight with other guests." He smiled again at them, either oblivious too or ignoring the thinly veiled apathy. "You all must be hungry, and dinner is a long ways off. Come, come! I will lead you to the marketplace, where food is a plenty." Yolin began to stride off, and three armed guards fell behind the College students. Leaving wasn't an option. 

"I'm sure you have many questions about the current state of affairs in Yarosemere. After all, that is why you are here! I will answer them as best I can."