The first rays of light stretched and crept over the horizon. Lances of reds and yellows beat back the final shades of black and blue, pushing them back in stark defiance of nights fleeting grip on the world. The dawn broke bringing the heat of a new day with it. Draich had slept enough. He sat up, sand coursing off his back as he pulled himself out of a shallow grave he had dug for the night. His muscles ached and complained as he willed them back to life, the final bite of the deserts cold night ebbing away with each contraction and flexion. Draich stood against the dawn, stretching his arms and back as the suns hot rays licked at his face. He shielded his eyes from the sun as he greeted the new day in his own way. Draich shook the final remnants of sand off his cloak and quickly secured it around his neck, the white cloth kicking up slightly at a breeze that crept in from the east with the sun. This close to the ocean it was much cooler than he was accustomed to. The desert got cold at night, dangerously so, and this close to the ocean it got even colder. While it was nice during the day and made the road much easier to travel he did not desire to suffer the cold again. It was miserable, even more so than the heat. He sat with a quiet thud as he removed his ruck from the sand and prepared to break his fast. Famished. Absolutely famished. It had felt as if he hadn't eaten in days but the reality was that this was the furthest north he had ever traveled. The canvas pack complained loudly as he dug through its contents, settling on salted beef and water. The butcher paper crinkled under his hand as he retrieved it and a skin of water and began to eat in silence under the rising sun. Draich had to eat quickly. If he was to pick up their trail again he would have to move fast. The weather in these parts where much different that from what he was accustomed to. He had no idea if the tracks would have been lost in a night gale. Draich had been tracking this band of abominations since Rauru. Hoping for an easy payday, he tailed them quietly hoping to slit their throats while they slept and make off with their weapons. But all hope of that plan had faded when they converged and joined another group of monstrosities further east. If he struck now he would likely be over run on open ground and slain where he stood. No, these things would fall under his blade and bolts but it would be on his terms, not theirs. He sniffed the air for any scent of corruption but with the eastern wind it would be impossible to tell if anything was nearby. Draich ripped off another bite of beef, chewing quietly as he scanned the surrounding area from his seated position. Nothing. Not a soul. Just the way he liked it. His eyes returned to the direction of travel as his hand found the compass in his pocket and idly opened it. Due north thus far, since they had merged with the other group any way. Where they were going and what they had planned alluded him. There was nothing to his knowledge this far north. He swallowed his bite and washed it down with a gulp from his skin. It didn't matter what they were doing. The foul creatures where an affront to his desert and he would see the sand stained with their blood. Draich's hand found the scabbard to his bastard sword, Anathema, as he returned the remains of food and water to his ruck with the other. He had to move soon, Draich had spent enough time eating and drinking. There was vermin to slay. Draich's hands moved quickly as he went about his daily routine of preparation to move. Straps whined loudly as he cinched down everything tightly and tied off the remaining slack. With a tiny grunt he slung the bag over his shoulders. 'Blade,' His hand touched the handle of his sword as he quietly went through his final checks. 'Bolts,' His fingers ran trough the fletching of the crossbow bolts that hung idly from his belt. 'Crossbow.' He slid his foot under the long range instrument of death and kicked it into the air, catching it with relative ease. He examined the Crossbow quickly to ensure the bolt had remained in place. Everything was in good order. Draich was ready to move. Silently he pulled the thin white hood over his scalp and began his trek north, his cloak fluttering in the wind as he went.
The rising sun made no difference to the Gerudo woman as she marched along the sandy path, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. The morning winds from the sea whipped around her, grabbing at the plain cloth cloak she wore to protect her from the changing temperatures of the desert. A typical morning for the warrior, who had rose early to continue tracking her quarry. There wasn't any rest for the woman when a job had to be done. She crested a dune and glanced out at the expanse below. Protected from the salty winds above, Terentia was able to spot the remains of the wagon train that she was following. Typical of the cruel monsters of the south, their wagon was in horrible shape. She could clearly see the wiggle of the right wheel just on the poorly drawn line in the sand. They wouldn't fix it though, they never do, it was merely a means to their ends. They had been making good distance with it though, so the warrior struck forward confident in the path she was marching. She hadn't been that far behind them when she last had a visual on them, but she had opted to rest early and allow them a few leagues between them again. She had her suspicions anyways, based on what had been in their supplies, so she was sure she could find them just by following the coast anyways. Nevertheless, she wasn't going to let the trail she had go cold, so she continued on towards the north, already steeled for the confrontations ahead. By midday she should have them within sight again, if they continued to make stops as they had, but she was more curious about how much longer they would take to reach their destination.
Sand slid between his fingers and down his person as he crept slowly up the dune in the prone, his crossbow tight in his grasp. His legs and arms pushed him forward alternating as he slowly made his assent to the top. Just over the crest of the dune, he could feel it. He continued his slow arduous climb up the shifting white sands till his eyes barely cleared the top. He stalled his breathing as if the enemy might here him. He had made good time after breaking his fast. Under normal circumstances he would have been following prints in the shifting sand, or tracking the scratches off rock. But in such large numbers, hauling the freight that they where, they moved slowly. Judging from deeper grates in the sand, at least one of the carts was broken. Moving by himself he had an easy enough time catching back up with his prey. And now with a broken wheel, they going would be much slower. They milled around the cart like a swarm of angry wasps trying to come to some conclusion, he imagined, on what to do. The bastards where barely eighty meters out and while most struggled with their wagon, others had the common sense to scan their surroundings for enemies. At this distance, with his white cloak pulled over his head, they wouldn't spot him. He hoped. Draich lifted himself up with one arm in an attempt to better survey the madness. Thirty seven, possibly more, he counted to himself silently. He couldn't tell what they where hauling. What ever it was they had covered it to protect it from the elements or for secrecy. What ever it was it was rather bulky. Draich cursed to himself under his breath. Here and now there was no way for him to slay these things and walk away himself. The terrain was not in his favor, their numbers to great. Maybe if he had some canalizing terrain. He shook the thought from his head. He had what he had; sand and open expanses. Not the time or place for war. He placed his crossbow to his side and he lowered himself back down to the sandy dune. Draich pushed backwards, climbing further back down the way he had come, stopping just a few feet from where he had lay. While the weather wasn't as hot here as he was accustomed to he still needed to stay hydrated and he wasn't willing to risk his position for a drink. Confident in the knowledge that he couldn't be seen he slowly drank out of one of his skins, savoring the hot fluid. He listened intently, searching for any change that might alert them to movement.
With the sun high overhead, the Gerudo remained in the shadows of the rocky outcrop that stuck up out of the sand. She had fallen upon her prey not long before the wheel gave out, so she had been holed up in her cool hiding place for a while now. She had watched for a while to see if they could figure it out, but eventually she became tired of watching them fail and tucked in for a rest. The grainy bread she brought to eat was bland, but full of nutrients that reinvigorated the warrior as she washed it down with water. Cooling in the shade and resting her feet served well to prepare her for the trek ahead. She stashed away her foodstuff to begin checking her shield, planning to use the downtime to take care of her equipment. While she did, she would take a moment to glance out at her foes to see how they fared with the wagon. One of her checks led her to noticing a new Moblin, uglier then the rest, which seemed to make him in charge of the others. He hit a few of his men while barking orders, or just screaming at them in frustration. Evidently he had arrived after a runner had alerted their camp about the wagon, which meant they were close to their destination. Her curiosity piqued, Terentia stored away her gear and returned to watching. The ugly Moblin went about ordering his minions around to cobble together an answer for their wagon trouble, so they could make the last leg of their trek to their goal.
