As the crimson sun once more sets above the horizon, the caravan prepares for departure. In the wake of last nights' events, they all wish to get away from this place of doom as quickly as they can.
I got up this morning and over me came the same feeling I experience while in Thyr. Some kind of anxiety. I had learned from the previous day, that the burning sand beneath my bare feet, the glimmering disc of fire burning me alive and the hot gale blowing in my face would grant me a better mood, so I once more elected to run the first part of today's journey.
Nothing much had happened, but for a few dustclouds a couple of miles outside of the road. I had already been sitting in the rear car for some time, when suddenly we came to a full stop. Baalur, Syrx and I got out of the car, as did that dull-faced barbarian halfgiant. There was a group of travellers at the front car. Glancing over them, it was obvious they couldn't pose a threat as they were with too few people.
They told a strange story about wandering of into the desert off the road, because that would be faster. The fools. They thought they would have made it, if not for a sandstorm. After that their water resources quickly decreased, and we were their last string.
However comforting the feeling of outnumbering might have been, it rapidly faded. When the travellers walked by the rear car, I noticed one or two taking a peek inside, as though counting our numbers. They managed to do this stealthily enough for the rest not to notice. Or they might have used some kind of psionics to cover it up, who shall tell in a world where even the lowliest lifeform has some psionic power.
However, after they had drank some water they went on their way to Thyr. The rest of the day was rather boring, though Syrx brought some joy to the now by playing beautiful songs on his flute.