Snippet #2817634

"Something's out to kill us," M'Kama pointed out. "Best stay on your toes." He turned around to face Elysa who was busy collecting the bloodied sand, the only remains of her dead colleague and somberly stuffing it into an urn. "You. I need you to gather the remaining researchers once you're all done packing up."

"Packing up to go where?" Elysa stammered in response.

"To help Ada find your daughter, of course!" M'Kama stated, cheerfully. "And get you out of these accursed sands."

"That so?" a voice called out from amongst the researchers. He spoke a Sorillian dialect and appeared to be in his early fifties. Gray stubble covered his chin and narrowed, accusatory eyes glared beadily at the newcomers to the camp. "Don't remember too many deaths happening before you crawled up in here!"

"Mister Crisply, there were other murders..." Elysa interrupted.

"Shut up you 'ol dirty bag!" Crisply shot back, scratching his gut.

"Woah," M'Kama raised his hands.

"Ya crusty 'ol bitch!" Crisply continued his tirade.

"WOAH, Hey..." M'Kama interrupted. "Calm down, friend. What's your job?"

"He is in charge of security for our expedition," Elysa explained.

"And he's done a remarkable job thus far, I see," M'Kama noted dryly.

"FUCK OFF!" Crisply spat. "We got here and within a few days trek, my men dessert us in the middle of the godforsaken desert! Cowards! Rat bastards. All of 'em!"

"And are there any other sort of leaders of this expedition?" M'Kama asked. "Who is it that your people rely on. Certainly not him," M'Kama pointed at the scoffing Crisply. As he had asked, four more figures began to step forward.

The first was an old man, very tall but hunched over. On his face, he sported a thin black mustache, that was poorly dyed. His eyes were extremely beady and his expression hard to read as if his face was squeezed together by wrinkles. Perhaps, to counteract this, he wore a monocle.

"That's Professor Boughlin," Elysa explained. "Anthropology Professor at the Vench Insititute of Human Studies."

The next was a gaudily dressed Baoan man, younger than the rest but beneath his youthful face, there were signs of age. Unlike the others, he clearly seemed to have a great deal of money on him given the care put into the cleanliness of his clothes and the lack of even a speck of dirt on his face.

"That's Doctor Dei-fan from the Baoan College," Elysa went on. "In addition to being out lead paleontologist, he funded our entire expedition."

The last to approach was a violent looking woman with a long metal bat dragging across the sand. No piece of her clothing indicated she had studied any academia at all, and seemed to be some sort of stowaway who just happened to be hanging out with this group of professors. She glanced around with a fidgety, nervous look.

"That's Alsa. She's a last minute addition to our expedition. She's, uh...I believe you said you were an expert in the physical sciences, Alsa?" Elysa asked.

Alsa nervously gripped her bat tighter.

"Doctor Dei-fan was insistent that she come along," Elysa smiled.

M'Kama smiled in turn, placing a hand on Elysa's shoulder. "In all my time on this world, I have never seen such a miracle as your continued survival," he stated with a warm smile.

"Oh, well thank you," Elysa stated, absentmindedly.

M'Kama, whose expression had returned to one of low expectations, turned around and extended his pointer finger forward. "We go this way. Have your leaders gather your people and prepare them for a trek. Keep count of how many remain. We will likely not be alone..."