Cathwa Nation Citizen
- Marital Status
- Character Profile
The grim rider spurred his mount up the cascading bank of sand until orc and beast stood atop the dune's serpentine crest. Below him a vast plain of saltflats stretched out into the shimmering distance. Looming, deteorating columns of sandstone protruded from the flats, the skeletal remains of a bygone structure all but reclaimed by the sands. A hunter by vocation and predilection both, Dubh felt uniquely at home in the wilds and possessed a keen eye for tracking. This new land was barren and unforgiving, but already as he familiarized himself withevery stratum of stone or thicket of scrub it had begun to feel like home.
He lifted a sunbaked hand to his brow and scanned the arid desertscape below, his searching ebon eyes smoldering like coals beneath a heavy, low-hanging brow. His mount shifted impatiently underneath him and Dubh offered the Warg a comforting pat on the flank.
"Not much longer now Turk." Dubh remarked, attention still pinned to the crag-webbed landscape below. "We beat them here. But only just."
He loosened his scimitar in it's scabbard and brought his hands to rest upon the saddles pommel, silencing his thoughts in anticipation of the wait. Like so many denizens of the desert, conservation of energy played a vital role in survival. The transition to the stark brutality of this world had been difficult enough for the tribe's collective ability, but since striking out on his own, there was precious little room for error.
Dubh had staggered out of the second great Surge as perplexed and curious with the rest of his kinsmen. The four tribes had initially worked in unison to ensure collective survival, but his people's leader saw the tumult as an opportunity to solidify their dominance and influence over the others. Acts of naked aggression on their part aligned the other tribes against them and before long, Dubh and his brethren were driven to the far south of this strange, new land. And fortune had only grown colder for Dubh since that final trek.
"Ah, right on schedule." Far below his vantage point, an ambling row of figures began to emerge from behind the palm fronds, and entered the flats beyond. "Ready for a bit of bloody business Turk?"
The warg snorted eagerly and pawed at the dust below. Dubh shouldered his hunting bow, squinting against the sun. The great beast beneath him lurched and shuddered, a froth visible now at its maw.
"Easy Turk, easy." Dubh advised, "We wait for , then the caravan is good as ours."
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