The sands of Satash went on for what seemed like an eternity. As the eye caught nothing but sand dune after sand dune with nothing breaking it up but the small valleys between sand dunes. The one seeing this unending scenery of sand was a male Camela, who were a race of bipedal camel people. He was not enthusiastic about the view, though not many would be when it came to unending sand.
The male camela was at the head of a caravan of his kind that went through the desert of the dawn often. He was one of the guards that the caravan had, which were few in number. This was because the desert had not been a dangerous place in a long time. It has been home to many monsters of dawn. Though that was a long time ago. Now the only danger was the heat of the desert itself, but the Camela's ability to store massive amounts of water in themselves made that no danger to them.
Honestly, it had been so long since the monsters of the dawn had been a threat, and with the Camela people being so suited to the desert, many of the desert's neighbors have started calling it the desert of the Camela instead of the desert of Satash. Not that the Camelas are a big fan of it. While they are happy to use the exclusive routes the desert of the dawn gives them, they don't want to be known as people of it for traveling through it as much as they do.
The young Camela was not thinking about the difficulty his people were having with perception at this given moment. No, he was more concerned with a far greater threat, boredom. With nothing threatening them and nothing to do but move forward, the young man had nothing to do but watch for shifting sand dunes, and watching sand move was not a very exciting activity. Though it was necessary, as the group needed to move their carriages across the desert. So they needed to know which dunes were the most likely to fall and bury them before they got close.
He had gotten stuck with the task because he was the youngest of the guards and so had been sent out by his seniors. As it wasn't a glorious task, he couldn't exactly say no to them. The young Camela looked closer at the nearest dunes for one last check before deciding that they were safe and coming back to inform the rest of the group. He was riding up on a camel-like creature that had five humps and eight legs. Some saw both his kind and the camel as descended from the same ancestor, but it was absurd.
The young male camel rider rode quickly to the lead carriage, where the captain of the small guard group for the caravan was waiting. "Is it good for the next little bit, Camata?" The captain of the Camela caravan asked in his leather robe armor. The young Camela who had been sent to scout ahead nodded his head in confirmation.
"Yes, Captain, no sand dunes waiting to fall on us for a good mile ahead." Camata said to his captain, who nodded at the report of how far Camata had scouted ahead for the group. The captain looked at his young guard member for a moment before nodding to himself and then speaking to Camata once more.
"Well, you have done a good job, kid. So just stick around for the next half a mile at the front of the caravan, and then we'll send you out again." The captain said to which Camata nodded vigorously in assent before breaking off from the captain to talk with other members of the caravan to pass the time more quickly. The captain just chuckled to himself at his rookie guard's eagerness to pass the time with conversation with his fellows rather than staring at sand.
Off in the dunes, far from the sight of the Camela caravan, a group of Eorap were desperately searching in the sands for anything that could sustain them for another day. They were hoping to find worms to consume, but they would take anything, as they were not that picky. Sadly, it would seem they would find nothing this day. Their desperate clawing at the ground showed they were hoping this wasn't true but were having no choice but to see it as true.
One stopped it clawing at its fellows, its eyes showing that it saw the truth as well as what that meant. It felt sadness at that and looked around, seeing the reason for that once they ruled the desert around them. They moved in massive tribes like shadows at night before attacking with the fury of the sun as it rose over the horizon. Those days were long gone, as in those days they had the chosen special Eorap, who was picked by their god Dawth to lead their people.
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Those days ended when the cursed ones came, those of other gods butchering their chosen and wrapping their skin as trophies around themselves. For a time when chosen ones were slain, new ones rose to take their places. But soon there were fewer and fewer chosen, with each of the chosen slain by the cursed, until no more were chosen to lead them. With the chosen gone, the time of tribes was over. Now they live as packs on the edges of their very homes while others use their home as a road.
Some packs have even spoken to other packs of dark rumors. That those who use their desert as a road will rename it after them. This will be the final insult—to lose the name of their home. The last trace of the time of tribes when they served their God well and did not mock him with their weaknesses. The Eorap who thought of this wanted to cry out to their God, Dawth, to give them a chance to serve him once more. But he did not, as he did not believe they were worthy of their gods' aid.
In many other tales it would have ended there. The Eorap would be left as nothing more than a footnote in a time when it was slightly more dangerous to cross the desert than usual for the desert traders. Sadly for the dessert traders, that is not how this story ends for them, as the Eorap were blessed once more. So in holy fervor they showed their faith to Dawth in giving them this second chance.
The caravan group of Camela had settled down for the night. All had gone to bed except for Camata, who had been tasked with watching the perimeter. Though the fear was more the sand dunes moving on them than anything else. As the monster had long ago stopped being a threat and no bandits could attack the Camela, who stayed far from the oasis they needed to use to survive out in the desert,.
So it was that Camata found himself staring at sand dunes once again. Though this time by moonlight instead of sunlight, which wasn't much better. He looked around, trying desperately to stay awake, having to constantly wake up on the perimeter of the campsite to do so. As he went about his patrol, Camata was relaxed and just trying to keep his eyes open. Though as the night went on, that changed as every few minutes he would hear small rattles and the bangs of something metallic.
Each time Camata would go to check this, he would find nothing. So it would happen again and rattle and bang, then nothing. He spent half the night looking for ghosts that refused to show themselves. He told his replacement what had been going on, who didn't seem to take him seriously. Though come morning, the spooked look he saw in his fellow camel's eyes told him he did, in fact, believe, and that it hadn't stopped after he had gone to bed.
Though both were stopped from talking to each other about last night, the caravan master was filled with rage. The two looked over to see what was going on to find the caravan master gesturing rather heatedly to empty crates to all the nearby caravan members. The two camels looked at each other in realization that what they heard was the crates and the banging of metal inside them as they were being taken out into the night.
The question that spooked both was who, as neither had heard nor seen a sign of anyone. Just the sounds of banging metal, not people taking about said metal. The answer to said question was answered with the light of the dawn. As soon over the nearby sand dunes, packs of Eorap came from all directions. The Camela were confused at first, thinking the packs of Eorap were fleeing some bigger predator.
That lasted until they saw the Eorap had taken the metal last night. They had taken metal utensils and plates mostly and banged them together into makeshift weapons. The caravan master, red with rage, was moments away from ordering the caravan guard to slaughter the different packs to collect their skins to make up for the loss in product.
When it happened, the dawn sunlight hit the charging Eorap, and they changed before the camel caravan's eyes as they went from small black bipedal lizards to huge gold bipedal lizards. The Camela had moments to look on in stunned disbelief at the skill granted to the Eorap. Which was the DAWN SCALES; it was a transformation skill. Which caused them to be small, stealthy creatures at night and roaring golden warriors during the day such was the transformational power if the dawn.
The caravan Camela guard acted quickly, using their races while known talent for spit magic. Which was a combination of water and plague to fire a magic barrage into the incoming horde. It was too late, as in their surprise they had let the transformed Eorap close the distance. So the mages were forced into close-quarters battle, which they swiftly lost. Though their sacrifice gave others a head start to flee for their lives.
The Eorap were about to give chase when the largest among them, with a symbol of the dawn on his forehead, held up a hand, stopping the others. "Let them go. They will tell the others that this is the sands of Satash once more and it is ours." The chieftain of the new tribe of Eorap said before going off in a new, entirely different direction to those fleeing to find other caravans. As other newly founded tribes of Eorap were doing the same as the time of tribes had came once more upon the sands of Satash and they had traders to hunt for daring to cross their dessert.
