The Wanderers

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They walked in silence for a while. The sun had set and a gibbous moon illuminated the desert. By the time they stopped to camp, it was high above their heads and the only warm lights they could see were the distant lights of New Carthage.

H.W. removed a few rather small disgusting folded bags from his backpack and proceeded to inflate them slowly. Few knew of how the Desert Dwellers used animal carcasses to make these temporary and rather spacious sleeping bags, but they did their job of protecting everyone from the cold.

Once he was finished, he placed them on the sand and erected a make-shift tent with the last things in his original backpack - a very long piece of woollen material and a few thin metal pipes that were cut into several pieces to fit inside.

Henry wiped his hands and proceeded to talk in his usual manner. "Well, Gentlemen, these will be our accommodations for the next few weeks while we travel. I suggest you get used to the smell and go to bed. Meanwhile, I will take sentry duty for tonight. Then, we will continue our long march tomorrow."
 

Jedoro

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"Shouldn't we, you know," Conner began, choosing a sleeping bag, "rotate on sentry duty? I think it would be better for us all to lose an hour or two, than for one of us to lose a whole night. I heard guards complain about it a lot when I was out at night, but they don't stop to think about the wisdom behind it." He paused, realizing he was actually under someone's command and not just given a mission to accomplish as he saw fit.

"I mean, if you're capable of losing a night of sleep, then by all means go for it. I was just... making a suggestion."
 

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"I'll let you all rest for the first night. You'll need the energy tomorrow. Me, I can spend days sleepless. In the Deep Desert, there are worse things than lack of sleep..." Henry replied, his mask darkening even more for a moment. "Tomorrow, we start rotation. Now, I suggest you get some sleep. You'll need it."

He hiked onto the top of the dune and sat down, staring at New Carthage. Silence enveloped his form, the once proud adventurer shrinking and remaining as a small, old man with his glory days behind him.
 

Jedoro

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Settling in for the night, Conner took his knife and put it under his black pants that he had folded for a pillow. As he laid down, he thought about his assignment log in his pack, and thought about some of the jobs he had taken, the things he had done, and the people he had killed. All of it seemed like a lifetime ago already, and he knew it would only grow more distant.

Maybe, if I ever return, he thought, I'll never need to do those things again, with the wealth I'll have.
 

Fingerprint

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Beau was used to using this type of sleeping bag, the army had used them regularly when ever there was an exercise in the desert; still, it did not mean he enjoyed the smell. He watched silently as Conner made his suggestions to H.W. about the sentry duties and decided that if H.W. wanted to stay up all night then who was he to argue with a good nights sleep.

"G'night lads," he said to no-one in particular after recieving the sleeping bag.
 

Katherine Kerensky

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"Mein gott, this sleeping bag smells utterly revolting!" Rufus exclaimed, taking a step back from the object of his remark. "surely there must be something better than this! There are many fine materials available back in New Carthage..."

Von Bernkastel dropped his travel bag to the ground and began to rummage through its contents, before pulling out a clothes peg, of all things. "This is not the purpose I had intended for such an item, but it shall suffice."
He closed his travel bag, put the clothes peg on his nose to hold the worst of the stench at bay, then crawled into the 'sleeping bag', and tried to get some sleep.
 

Captainguy42

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Gio lay down to sleep, the smell was horrendous but he couldn't help notice the craftsmanship of the bag. How the seams were incredibly tight to keep in heat, and the pockets of air that insulated the him from the cold. Gio took out his journal and sketch a picture of how he imagined the inner structure of the bag must be like, while he was at it he wrote several other notes down.

When fighting a Zeppelin at night, aim for it's searchlights, with out them their gunners are blind and are mostly likely not keen on wasting ammunition firing blindly.

He thought to how Sjors had struggled with his weapon holster.

Problem: Tangled straps.
Possible Solutions: Magnets, springs.


Finally he started a new section.



Companions First Impressions:

H.W.: Old, creepy, seems unhinged, questionable leadership ability.

Connor: Seems to be good with guns, hasn't killed anyone in while, pacifist maybe?

Rufus: Ehh...

Beau: Didn't fire, coward?

Emerson: Doesn't have a gun, only sword, a luddite maybe?

Sjors: Good shot, thinks like me, I like him.

Gio: Thanks to my quick thinking I do believe the others currently respect me.

Others haven't talked much, I'll update later, must remember to stay objective.



Hey just to let you know all of the above is subjective, I just like the idea of a journal were my character keeps track of were everyone stands with him.
 

Sparrow

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Emerson peeked over Gio's shoulder as he wrote in his journal, trying to make it look like he was staring out into space rather than snooping at his writings.

A luddite? What's a luddite?

After noticing that Gio had stopped writing, Emerson backed away from him as quitely as he could, then casually walked away when he was at a far enough distance.

"Luddite...", he mumbled to himself.
 

Fraught

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Hmph, "Mein gott, mein gott!" Hah. Good thing I'm used to this smell.

After entering the tent, and getting a sleeping bag from Smith, he proceeded to a place he chose by quickly glancing over the tent. It was near to the wall, and as he walked there, holding the sleeping bag with both of his hands, he put his sleeping bag down.

Choosing not to enter his sleeping bag, he set his backpack between him and the wall, near his feet, laid down on his back, but then quickly turned on his side, and starting observing the rest of the occupants of the tent.

Well, I don't feel like sleeping yet.
 

Combined

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It seems we have some sort of fast travelling going on! Please stay tuned for further, oh, wait. Here we are.

They had gone across the desert for days, driven on mercilessly by Henry. The sunlight burned and the air felt like boiling water. They passed camps that were destroyed by raiders, caravans dismantled and forgotten in the desert dunes, ancient buildings that stood like the carcasses of devoured animals and many other signs of the days before the Cataclysm.

It was on the sixth day of journey, just as they had passed the halfway mark of the first part of their entire expedition, that the stale boredom and disinterest was relieved by something unexpected.

Upon standing guard, while the others took care of the camp, H.W. discovered something interesting in the sand. A tile. Digging deeper, he found another one. Finally, he reached what seemed to be a roof. He took out his map and checked the location, noting that nothing was marked in this area.

He stood up and shouted, "Lads! Come quick! I have found something most interesting!"

He continued digging, until he had a tiny bit of the massive roof uncovered. He wiped the sand away, with great enthusiasm, looking for an entrance, or at least a way to peer inside.
 

Sparrow

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"Tiles?"

Emerson stared at the floor.

"You called us over for tiles? I thought you'd found something interesting..."
 

Combined

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"Ack, you young fellow have got a lot to learn about the desert. Now, if you would mind observing, I'll show you how we get money to support ourselves."

He removed his revolver from the holster at his side and tapped the cleared area of solid roof tiles, noting the sounds that indicated it was an empty space below.

He then repeatedly bashed the revolver against the tiles, splintering most and sending clay shards in all directions. Finally, he tapped the beaten mass lightly and part of the tiled roof broke, falling down into the grimy dark bellow.

"Beneath every dune is treasure. And while most has already been taken, we're standing at an unexplored location, with an assurance that there may be gold and gems beneath our feet. 'Tis the first lesson of adventuring - knowing where to look for your money."
 

Fingerprint

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At the mention of treasure Beau's ears pricked up - he, like the rest of the expedition members, had been promised treasures on their travels and until now that possibility had even looked close to becomming reality. The last few days had been monotinous trudging through the harsh desert and most people's conversation had worn thin long ago but now, well this would give them a smile if there was gold to be found in this god forsaken piece of desert.

"Well, who'd a guessed this? So H.W., how we gonna do this, we gonna need sentries or d'you reckon them raiders won't bother us?"
 

Sparrow

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"Eh, money.", Emerson groaned, "I don't want money, I want long lost items of kings and queens, weapons of old lost to history, armours of pharaohs and master craftsmen..."

He sighed, then looked at the floor.

"It's not exactly like I'm asking for much..."
 

Katherine Kerensky

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"Oh, this is a most interesting discovery, Mister Smith!" Rufus exclaimed upon their leader's creation of an entrance into the buried structure. "I wonder what we shall happen to find in such a place. What do you think this structure may have been, Mister Smith? Some kind of dwelling? Or perhaps something grander? Maybe a font of lost knowledge?".

Von Bernkastel finished unleashing his torrent of questions, glad that there was something to finally be excited about once again on their journey. He edged closer to the hole, to try and get a better look inside the dark opening.
 

Fraught

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Anselm stood up, and walked slowly towards where Smith was calling them, noticing a few of them running past him. Upon reaching Smith, he looked down. Upon seeing the tiles, he didn't know what to expect.

"Well, yeah. There could be treasure, but how do we know there's anything down there?"
 

SamuelT

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"And once you're down there, You'll have to worry what's above you. I don't fancy getting buried alive.." Sjors said tenitavely. He held his hand up to block the sun, and giving him a clear view of the....small hole in the ground.

"Yeah. Sorry if I'm not that thrilled."
 

Combined

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"Now, what we're all going to do, is go down into this temple and look around for anything of value. It doesn't particularly matter if we find gold or diamonds, or what some may call "real" treasure, but you must remember that nobles in the outlands will buy any scrap of long lost times for ludicrous amounts of money and a temple is certainly going to have something inside."

He rubbed his hands together and then proceeded to uncover more of the roof, breaking the tiles and causing them to fall into the darkness that was slowly dissipating, making way for light.

What appeared below seemed to be a large chamber, filled with dust and rubble. Amongst the rubble could be seen plenty of book shelves, piled with scrolls and books. Besides that, it seemed that the building was very large, since it had exits in every direction.

"And, gentlemen, I sincerely doubt that any structure of this size could not contain at least some worthwhile loot. Now, as for the roof collapsing... Well, nobody said this was a risk-free journey."

He seemed to stiffen for a moment, gaining the posture of a military commander. He spoke again, this time with confidence. "Now, someone go get us a rope and a couple of torches."
 

Katherine Kerensky

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"Ah, Mister Smith, I believe it was my turn to carry the rope." Rufus said while pulling a coil of rope off from where it had been wrapped around himself. "I can't say the same for the torches though. So, who'll be delving into this forgotten history first? It will be a great honour to whoever you choose, Mister Smith."

Rufus finished removing the rope from himself, before handing it back to their leader. "Well, all we need is torches, then you get to choose the lucky one" He said, a grin across his face, slightly dusty after their journey so far.
 

Jedoro

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"Right, here are the torches," Conner noted, holding up a smaller bag he'd been carrying the past few days. "If you need volunteers, I suppose I'll hop down first, but I'm better at climbing walls than ropes."