[b][h2][centre]vashthishtra silent sands. “Vashra” [/centre][/h2][/b]

The large rabbit fell almost instantly to a large arrow that hit its side in the dusk light, its hunter had been silently moving from the wind of it and sensed its heat against the cooking night. The world was cooling from the sun and made the living creature glow hot against the hunters arrow. A slowly gathering pool of hot blood that turned from a vibrant yellow slowly into blue likes its life force gone. “Excellent” the hunter said turning back to its camp leaving a S shaped marked in the packed dirt of the main path and heads into the scrubby brush and low trees out the way where a carefully concealed fire lay in a rocky dip, lowly smoking, and giving very little signs of the scale folks presence. 

The camp was all but invisible and the under had been here for a few days, taking time to rest after an extended journey and also to undertake maintenance, craft new arrows and to think over what to do next. An adventure to a place once thought myth and lost, an adventure deep into the unknown would bring great honour to his name among the tube especially if he returned with valuable metal or materials belonging to the God people of times of creation. Scale folk might not be the civilised city and town folk that gathered in other lands but they were far from barbarians and clans and small tribes were strongly bonded even when many leagues were far from each other. Loyalty to the clan was in soul, not just sight of one's home. 

vashthishtra was now far from home, far from the sands and rocks that he had started from and deep into lands where water ran in great rivers rather than small rocky springs. Things were green here and the sun was weaker compared to what he was used to, not the imposing force that burned the landscape dry and forced the strongest even to be tested against the might of the desert and the light. he followed rumour despite many that looked at himnwith a mix of fear, curiosity, hate or just confused. They had never seen one of his kind it seemed. 

Word brought him down to a place he would not normally venture often, by water, where houses rose like rocks in neat patterns in tight canyons of structures built by people not nature's forces. The Inn he found by its sign more than anything and checked his Seax and the scale folk pushed the door open and slid in deliberately making a noise as he remembered most people got spooked by how silently the scale folk could slither and move outside of their simple senses… Luckily he had learned from others, those he helped, escorted and guided using the coins he possessed to purchase an ale which helped soothe the people's view a little. He knew how to at least act like one of them even if he never would and always be an outsider to these folk. 

“I hear, a party seeeeeeks adventure. Deep in mountains, seek treasure yes.” He said palming a coin to the chieftain at the bar, it was a small coin but it was a gesture he had been told to make. People needed a little … lubrication he was told the word was. He did not fully understand but he knew when it worked and when he was directed to a table. 

Men, winged, a long lived one. Woman, they made an odd mix and the table looked like the one he sought. His own appearance probably caused some stares, snake like, scales and an armour that was made from a dozen other nations, kinds and technologies combined into a set hand crafted by the scale folk that wore it. He had stashed some gear at his own concealed camp, deciding on a spear and so would be…overtly armed. 

“My name is Vashra, you seek clan mates for adventure yes? To visit the man rocks of the past ones? To gain treasure?” He paused before taking a drink, they seemed well armed and the long lived one… they were truly hard to guess. “Two shod, winged ones seek to enter the lands of dead masters and claim gilt prize, I can help, I travel, I see many places, I help you avoid scale clan homes, seek food.” He finished and rested lower on his tail like body, the place did not really have a place to sit for his kin folk, bar perching on it in a facsimile of sitting, a gesture that looked and felt a little unnatural. 

The Beast folk tilted his head and drank from his ale, that ale was … Interesting though his sense of flavour and tastes did not quite align with the human kinds and unsure what the difference would be to its makers. He swayed slightly as he waited, slightly hopeful and interested with the idea, this adventure had potentially gathered the scale of folks' sense of adventure and desire to travel beyond the borders. 

[@Dyelli Beybi]