As intriguing as the journal seemed based on the stories and its history of being a key to Hadrian’s cache, Vah’lux didn’t care much for old manuscripts or the languages that followed them, especially with regard to human cultures. The true history of the world -at least from her own knowledge- had been passed down orally through the many centuries by the wisest of chiefs and shamans; their depictions seemed vastly different than many writings by human hands, and most seemed to revolve around gold and wealth. Such a thing, while necessary in certain circles, did not interest the tribeswoman in the least.

Within the saloon, the Goliath’s muscular frame, adorned with scars and a few tattoos of her culture and tribe, drew the occasional curious glance from the eclectic mix of patrons. Her wild, dark hair framed her rigid face, and intense emerald eyes surveyed the room with a mix of curiosity and wariness. This was a relatively new environment that she had inserted herself into all due to this expedition, and yet she couldn’t help but keep her senses on high alert. These were strangers amongst strangers, and she felt the most of any outlier, even more so than Bill, who she had given an acknowledging nod to earlier, and the beast being one of the only she knew fairly well from the Kharakhi Desert.

She knew the stares would continue regardless…

A group of card players, dressed in cowboy hats and worn leather vests, huddled around a poker table, their cigars sending thick plumes of smoke into the air. The clinking of poker chips mixed with their boisterous laughter. But, they couldn’t hide their judgemental expressions behind fanned cards. Across the room, a group of miners, their faces smeared with dirt and sweat, lifted mugs of ale in a rowdy toast to whatever it was. They sang bawdy songs, and the sound of their stomping boots reverberated through the floorboards. But once again, careless whispers seemed louder than they should be.

At the bar, a sophisticated-looking woman in a corseted dress sipped a glass of fine wine, her powdered face and delicate fan creating a stark contrast to the rugged surroundings, and yet she continued to stare daggers at the Goliath as though a creature such as she was never allowed in a place like the Wild Stallion.

Vah’lux's keen senses picked up snippets of conversations, words and phrases from a dozen different languages, as traders, prospectors, and wanderers from all corners of the land passed through the dusty saloon. She might be an outsider, but she knew amidst the diversity of humanity and various races of creatures, she could learn much about the world beyond her own tribal lands.

She snapped herself back to those at the table, and caught the conversation between the young man Jake, and the older explorer, Vilhelm, regarding navigating the desert in order to reach the path to Hadrian’s treasure. 

“I should have no problem getting us there.” The Goliath spoke, her low, husky voice cutting through much of the ambience. “I know the Kharakhi like it were my own child. I grew up there. I live there. I hunt there. I sleep beneath the stars which blanket the dunes and rocks.” 

She gestured toward the beastman. “Our friend Bill can be a great help in our quest, as he has traversed the land as I have. So, do not worry about getting to your destination…”

Her voice trailed for a moment as though she were thinking of something, and she leaned in slightly toward the others at the table. “But, do worry about the creatures you will encounter, because they are many and they are hungry.”

The Goliath leaned back up straight in her seat atop the wooden crate, crossing her arms, as she awaited further discussion and guidance from the party leader.