The Desert and our First Camp

Al'Jaladiya of the Sand Voyager's Guild in Bralazar was a very clever man. Our visit there ended in his giving up little and us walking away one hundred gold lighter, but it might have been worse for us if Fy hadn't been so keen on impressing him. In hindsight, perhaps we should have shopped around, but the group had a hunch that this was the right move.
 
The next day, we spent research the Sand Voyagers themselves. They are hardy men who travel often in the desert, but trading what, nobody really knows. They keep the townspeople happy, in any case. They also really don't appreciate the Dupari.
 
Another evening spent in Bralazar turned out to be fun and casual as we waited for the caravan's departure. The term Dupari, we found, is an ethnic term, representing those who worship Anu. They are traders who have a great cunning for business. They prefer to talk versus fight, and seek to protect trade for all. You'd think the townspeople like them, but apparently they are zealots, and rare do people like fanatics. The Warindi, an older group of this region, assimilated into the Dupari, but they still have differing opinions on the gods.
 
The day of the journey found us standing before Sekuh as he attempted to wrangle everyone together for the voyage. He barked orders while he and his 20 companions ensure the other 40 were well situated. His twenty seemed hardy and ready, while the others were a surprising mix of races, most not really situated for what they were getting into.
 
We set out, a dust wall known as the Knife Pass quickly coming into contention with our vision. Its walls were swirling with dust, but interestingly enough, there seemed to be the remnants of dried up cascades. It made me think of the story of the Curse of Amun-Ra that we heard about in Bralazar. Perhaps there was something to that. We crossed the river with the help of what appeared to be some laborers. It definitely made sense to hire someone now.
 
Finally we reached the Knife Pass, and were greeted by walls that had to have been over 300 feet high. Cutting through the middle like a giant swing of a sword, the path began to narrow. Towards the top, the wind was howling, but we found a small pool no more than a few feet across that was absolutely beautiful. I remember its flowers, purple and white, streaked with crimson blossoms and white lilies. My reverie was interrupted by Sekuh's yell to set up camp.
 
I'm sitting here at the campfire, wishing it were light again so I could look at the flowers once more, writing as I listen to the conversation that's been struck up. The people are from the Ilkante region, where they use guttural sounds to sing, quite different than what Merosh has to offer. I'm not sure they appreciate his music. They are going on about their gambling, and their brothels, and how much beer they drink. How droll.
 
Wait, what's Fy doing? A camel? Oh my...what is she up to? She's disappeared behind a tent. I'd better put this away.