Starfield came to the inexorable conclusion, through the utmost careful deliberation, that Moghra’Yi was put on this planet specifically to kill them.
The Great Salt Desert, or Hell as they were more apt to refer, is treacherous for most living organisms to traverse - let alone for someone of Starfield’s delicate yet respectable constitution. It’s common sense, or in their mind it should be common sense, that salt and mushrooms don’t mix. One of the basic principles of science and agriculture, after all. Not to mention the wild beasts that circled overhead or burrowed underneath the white dunes or the complete and utter lack of any water with the exception of the conniving merchant folk set about to swindle the desperate vagabond. But, they survived and now enjoyed a relaxing and well-deserved soak in one of the smaller pools of Hagashem.
Starfield leaned back and stretched, taking in the peaceful reverie of the sleeping village, the sandstone huts and canyons tinted mauvish-crimson from the slowly rising sun. It would be light soon, and Bacter kindly informed them the night before that they were to attend a group breakfast. Starfield was looking forward to the social interaction, but not so much the meal. Their companions consumed cooked animal flesh, and all manner of horrible things that they had to get accustomed to witnessing in their life. It wasn’t just their present company that maintained such a disgusting diet. No, Starfield had found that most species ate living things - be it animal or plant, and even... fungi. It was the way of the world, and they silently contemplated that killing to consume nourishment was probably a psychological factor to why people were prone to such violence.
They climbed out of the pool, drying themselves off with a clean cloth, and nodded in satisfaction. When they had first shambled out of Hell, their body was a black and shriveled mess looking like a stick-figure from the dehydration. Now, after the long bath, they looked like a hundred drams and felt twice as good. It’s amazing what a good bath can do for the body and mind. Once dry, they put on the pristine-white clothes they reserved for only the most special of occasions, making sure everything was just-so. They brushed themselves off, to ensure there were no wrinkles, and slid on their goggles. The sun was up now, the sky a deep blue. They squinted at the light, and twisted the small dial on the goggles, making the lenses shift to a dark black tint. Already Harvest Dawn. Starfield was heading to the designated rendezvous when they heard the distant call of who they guessed was Alu. Starfield found it quite remarkable that something so small could be so loud, and this wasn't the first occasion.
“Live and drink, my companions!” Starfield arrived to find some of their company already in attendance. “What a most wonderful Harvest Dawn, wouldn’t you say my friends?” Their eyes glanced at the feast, which appeared to be entirely more food than any of their companions could consume in one sitting. “Oh, is that…”
Starfield sat at the table, grabbing the dram of honey and sticking their clawed finger in the liquid, absorbing it. The crystalline spikes on their back shifted color to a deep orange, small minuscule sparks of static arcing between their points. Starfield’s body shuddered slightly, and they felt a rush of energy and euphoria. Intense at first, but slowly mitigated.
“What most gracious hosts, thank you very much!”