<div class="floatright">(https://farm8.static.flickr.com/7673/26911334061_6664baacfa_b.jpg)</div>Sir Pallam Rem (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1350847)<br/><sub>HP: 52/52, AC: 18, Perception: 0</sub><br/><br/>Willem found Sir Pallam sleeping in his usual spot under wagon number nine.  Sir Pallas often caught some winks there when the caravan came to a halt.  Willem opined that the paladin slept a lot, but he never said so to anyone.<br/><br/>"Sire?" Willem said softly, bending to look under the wagon.   "Sire, wake up."<br/><br/>Sir Pallam rolled away from Willem.   "... The caravan's not moving..." he murmured, half-asleep.<br/><br/>Willem ran around the front of the wagon, giving the camels a wide berth.  Then he knelt down on the other side of the wagon, bracing himself on the spokes of the wheel.  But Sir Pallam rolled back over to his other side.  Willem ran around the wagon again, but this time his sleeve got nipped by one of the camel.  He had to kick the brute to free himself.<br/><br/>Sometimes, Willem hated his job.  He only had one duty, which was to fetch Sir Pallam when he was needed.  He also helped him don his armor, but Sir Pallam usually preferred to do that by himself.  Though his full plate was much lighter, it was obvious to him that Sir Pallam disliked wearing it in the desert.  It was obvious because Sir Pallam wouldn't stop complaining about it.<br/><br/>"Sire!" Willem shouted, amplifying his voice by cupping his hands over his mouth.   "Wake!  Up!"<br/><br/>Sir Pallam lifted his head up and nearly slammed it against the underside of the wagon.   "No need to shout, lad," he grumbled as he searched himself for his wineskin, to no avail.   "I'm up.  What is it?"<br/><br/>"Them's think that a sandstorm's comin' our way," Willem said,  "so we're gonna make camp."  Since Sir Pallam didn't respond or move, Willem quickly added:   "They'd like your help with, uh, clearin' the area."  Willem was going to say that they needed help scouting the area, but Sir Pallam always declined such requests.  "Point me towards a monster, and we'll be fine," he used to say.  "Ask me to find a monster, and I'll have a fit."<br/><br/>"That seems like something I could do," Sir Pallam said after some thought.  He crawled out from beneath the wagon and stretched.   "Anything exciting happen?"<br/><br/>"... Aside from the sandstorm, sire?" Willem asked.<br/><br/>"Oh, right," Sir Pallam said.  The sandstorm.  The paladin understood that sandstorms were natural events that were designed by the gods to test men (and women), but he fucking hated them and he was not looking forward to this one at all.  He originally had the impression that you could sleep through one, but good luck with that.  The sandstorm's winds were deafening and terrifying.  On top of that, flying grains of sand and particulate were blinding to the eyes and vengeful to exposed flesh.   "You wouldn't have my wineskin, would you?"<br/><br/><div align="center">***</div><br/>Sir Pallam sauntered towards the scouting party wearing his shining mithral full plate, carrying his greatsword over his shoulder.  He didn't look menacing.   "Hello, you sorry sons of bitches," he said amicably.    "I thought I'd join you today."<br/><br/>Edit:  Changed oxen to camels!