It was a warm day, as most of the days in the desert. Luckily the camp of the Outcasts had been set up in the shadow of a stone arch, which gave the nomads some much needed coolness. Since the nomads just arrived today, everyone was busy setting up their tents, machines and other things. While this spot wasn't close to an oasis, it lay on a short riding distance from the ruins of a larger city. According to the scouts, the city may have belonged to humans, which meant possible lost technologies, or maybe some barrels of untouched whale oil. But... being so close to the city, also meant the presence of monsters, which made their nests in the now in sand covered cities. Either way, the reward outweighs the risk, and this would be the Outcasts their new temporary home.
As you start unpacking your stuff, you hear the voice of a child calling your name. "Tobias! Tobias!" You recognize the child. It is Kairel, an elven boy, not 9 'winters' old. He was the first to greet you way back when you joined the Outcasts, he has been sticking around the way older elf Nivaar ever since. Whether Nivaar Tobias Swann liked it... Who knew? "Have you seen that large city we passed on the way here? I bet you're going there! Right? You are going to scavenge that place, and come back with lots of awesome For-Sand* stuff! Will you bring me something nice?" The elven child looks up to you with large glimmering eyes, hopeful and filled with youth.
You wake up from a dream. Something has awoken you. After a while, you realize it's just the human doctor, Mikel Trindegast, and you're just in the medical tent. He turns to you and smiles. "I see you've woken up once again Cameo. It would seem your breathing apparatus is still functioning as should be, whether it will continue to do so... That's not my expertise. It's hard to keep things sterile with this condition of living." It was normal, that when you settled down in a new place, you'd visit the doctor for a check up. It's been a while since you joined the Outcasts, but your scares are still clearly visible. Only the mental scares are hidden away deep inside you.
You walk... well... shuffle through the camp, your hands filled with unfinished machines and other bits and bops. The people know you as Sonya Gear-Head, but that was all the people were willing to know. Your name, and that you were a Tiefling. Although everyone was accepted in the Outcasts, old grudges were hard to overcome. And thus they left you to your struggles, all, but one. "Oi! Lad! Ya' lost something! Don't know whether it's important to ya', but I'm betting ya' want it back." As you turn around, you see an older dwarf holding up one of your many mechanical things. "Need some help with unloading?" This was the first time anyone actually offered their help freely surprisingly enough.
Sitting down for a moment, you finally have the time to take in the landscape and reflect upon your thoughts. Living on the edge of the small make-up village was dangerous, but if someone could live there, it was Vlor Ral'gene and the other orcs. But your moment of peace is short lived as sharp pain in your head brings you to attention. A rock was thrown... As you look around, you spot a Low Orc chuckle at you. You recognize this orc... You've had run ins with him in the past and it was clear he hated you for some reason. One would go as far as to call it a rivalry.
As a Drow, you were most comfortable in the thickest shadows. Luckily this spot wasn't taken yet, and you'd quickly claimed it for yourself. It is a bit isolated from the main bulk of the village, but maybe that is for the best. Nothing better then silence after all. You kick around in the sand somewhat, until your feet connects to something solid...
Samual Darwin was your name and you, as many others preferred to live on solid rock instead of the shifting sands. So you and some others had found some ledges in the small rocky hills the village was settled next to, and were setting up camp. Another human waves at you from another ledge and holds up what seems to be a bottle of beer. "Joining us later for a round of cards? If of course you're not busy with Dweller stuff that is."
You're rather new in the Outcasts, and people eye you with suspicion. Apparently the people weren't really familiar with Insect-man. A halfling walks up to you and clearly blocks your path. He grins at you with malcontent. "I don't like you bug-boy. You're strange, and I don't like that." A Peacekeeper** spots the scene and quickly shoves the halfling away, scolding him while giving you a quick nod as form of apology. It was probably best you quickly move on.
It was usual, that after the village had settled, the Dwellers would meet with Blim, a gnome and fervent scholar. While the Outcasts had no clear hierarchy or even an official leader, Blim was possibly the closest to being one (even if he didn't like it). The gnome had the most knowledge about Pre-Calamity stuff, and he was usually the one coordinating the Dwellers to a potential hot-spot of supplies.
While the meeting usually happened the same night or day, Blim was also fine with postponing it by a day. He was well aware of how tiresome setting up camp could be after walking around all day in the hot sun. Usually it were individual meetings anyway. He was also well aware how hard it was to coordinate a large camp like this, and get everyone in one place. He had the time. He had just started in a very interesting book.
* For-Sand = The children way of saying Pre-Calamity
** Peackeeper = The only form of law this camp knows. They are mainly focused on making sure that the different races don't clash.
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