Those not entirely distracted by the ongoing conversation could not have failed to notice the flapping of the exterior canvas, or the increased braying and groaning of the unshielded moving about outside as the wind whipped up more clouds of sand, eventually intensifying to the point that visibility beyond the flaps had been reduced to a dull brown haze and Exusia itself had been entirely hidden from view to those still in the open.

It was not an irregular occurrence, but no less cause for consternation among the guardsmen posted on watch, wary of stories of the spirits of the dead returned to swell their ranks with those of the living.

And something else stirred amidst the sands. 

[hr]

"Your trust?" 

Meanwhile, Tisa Irune had offered a curt answer to the growing concerns raised by Magdalene.  "Exusia has no need for slaves. If the Queen sought them, she would not waste her time seeking an audience with stray travellers from-" 

[color=9ecff9]"But your Queen [i] does[/i] have need of us strays, woman."[/color] Artur sharply retorted, [color=9ecff9]"Not slaves."[/color]

Growing impatient, the emissary merely reaffirmed her previous statement. "Those are the Queen's terms. You are welcome to return to wherever you came from, once the storms fade. Otherwise..."

She gestured outwards, "Prepare the displacement." The two  guardsmen stationed in the tent stepped forward and began to pull aside the furniture planted across the tent, leaving a wide space beneath the high canvas ceiling for the group to stand beneath. "It is your choice, but I will waste no more time. Leave if you will, but those who wish to remain shall stand here."

Chalk powder had already been scattered about the floor, though whether it served a purpose or not remained ambiguous at best. "Send for the Captain, as well." With that command, the two guardsmen had stepped out into the sandstorm, leaving the group alone with the emissary. Those who chose to risk Exusia were eventually guided into the circle, begrudgingly or no. Stood before them, Irune seemed ready to begin the incantation - if not for a simple delay. 

"Captain? We should not leave the Queen waiting any longer." She called out again, her features creasing. No answer came and it became painfully clear that any voices beyond the canvas of the emissary's tent had faded away, replaced only with the sharp lash of the desert winds. Then came what could've only passed for a shriek as a shadow lurched forward, then slumped against the exterior canvas of the tent as someone breathed their last. 

Backing away, the emissary didn't immediately notice the dust spilling in behind her as a blade sliced through the canvas, not until the fabric was peeled away by a silhouette clad in bone totems and robes whose callused palms grasped at her sleeve. Startled, the woman gave a frightened chant, gesticulating wildly with a free hand, [b]"E-El nath!"[/b] and in an instant the robed figure howled in agony, cloth and flesh  rotting away from his hand as it seemed to rapidly crumble into dust. She seemed ready to follow it up, her lips moving rapidly, but before the words left her mouth another robed figure had emerged through the breach and plunged a spear through her belly. 

[color=9ecff9]"Fucking clansmen!"[/color] Artur rasped first, his blade already halfway out of its scabbard as more spilled in through the breach. 

[i]"Outlanders,"[/i] A snarl emerged from the spearman in a harsh regional dialect, dripping with contempt. The emissary crumpled at their feet, writhing until another robed assailant clad in totems knelt down and opened her throat with a blade carved from bone, grunting as the woman's blood soaked the hard sand beneath them. [i]"Witch."[/i] A wildebeest's bleached skull served as his helm, framing dark, hollow eyes. 

With the interior of the tent exposed to the elements, all could hear the distinct clash of steel and bone, men shouting to one another and the intermittent growling and death rattles of battle. It was no secret that many of the Bone Clans regarded Exusia as an ill-omen and had taken it as a personal affront to their encampment by the Bonewater. And as it happened, they seemed fixated on the armed, fighting guests of the Exusians - though sparing less notice to the likes of Ari, the Vrxyl or the Dust Mother. 

Dying here would've been premature, to say the least; Artur gestured to Nakala and Azariah, his sword at the ready. [color=9ecff9]"Spearwife, and you boy - form on me!"[/color] Then to Magdalene and the others, [color=9ecff9]"You want to save your skins, loose at the whoresons before they close!"[/color] 

With both exits blocked and the spellcaster dead, there remained no alternative. A raid was upon them. [i]No quarter would be offered.[/i]