<span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;">The wind and sand. This was all he had heard; all he had felt for weeks. He could barely remember his departure from Sagewrath, even though it had been but a short while. He could recall that he had been in a good mood that early morning. It had been his third town visited on the journey and his spirits were high. Even though the next passage through the dessert was longer than all his last he was eager to be on his way. It was said that the wine at Sands-End was the best in the country and the barely thawed mountain streams provided a rich soil for the best fruit to grow. <br/>   But the mountains past this were where his true excitement stemmed from. Contact from his brother after many years and the promise of a source of vast income had him selling his small shack and leaving before the end of the week. That had been a month ago he received the letter. A month and an eternity ago.<br/>   The wind had died down. This seemed the best time for him to move from under the small shelter of rocks he had found. Getting up he shook the sand off himself. The flick of his scaley tail removing a large portion of the accumulated sand from his cloak. He pulled down the hood and scarf from the end of his short snout. Letting out a few huffs to clear the sand from his nostrils. Pupils contracting into slits on his yellow eyes as he stepped once more into the hot sun. <br/>   As he walked onward he remembered more of his time in Sagewrath. Laughing as he recalled a drunken fight he had with a local over a woman who had showed no signs of interest over either of them. He then grew angry at himself as he once more recalled the words of advice he received from the owner of the inn he stayed at about the length of his next journey, the frequency of the sandstorms, and the need to take more supplies. He ignored all of these, thinking the man was simply trying to sell him more supplies that he did not need.<br/>  As he was lost in these thoughts a sound threw him back to the present. He heard the familiar roar and knew another sandstorm would soon be hitting. Anxiously he looked for another group of rocks to hide under. One small formation was visible in the distance; he may just make it if he ran. <br/>  Approaching the rocks the winds had just started to hit him. He was very thankful, another few seconds earlier and he would have been lost in the storm. Slumping down between some of the largest rocks he breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled his scarf back on and waited.<br/>The storm had been short lasting only a quarter hour. He got up and just started shaking off when he noticed movement. Suddenly a figure appeared from behind another group of boulders. This had greatly startled him as he had not noticed anyone when he approached, nor anytime during the storm. After a moment he realized he was frozen in place. Embarrassed by his lack of civility he raised his hand. Hello I am Victor, hailing from Portsmouth and journeying to Sands-End. You are.....</div></span>