Robert Greywolf, Veteran Spellblade

A day has passed and Robert was awoken by the sound of the other passengers going about their morning routines. Unlike some, he was not drenched in sweat from head to toe. He was glad that he had wisely purchased the shielding stone from one of the merchants at the inn long ago. If it were not for the magic that protected him against the harshest of climates, he would have surely roasted by now, and it made him wonder how the merchant caravans from before the invention of land ships could have survived under such hostile conditions. Pushing aside a strand of his dark auburn brown locks, he looked past the windowed coverings that shielded the interior of the spacious cabin from the blazing sun. All he could see with his dark hazel eyes towards the west of the caravan train was an endless sea of shimmering gold, softly rolling away into the cloudless faraway horizon and beyond. It was at this point that he knew that that he was no longer anywhere near the rocky mountain coastlines of the Ancillio Principalities. The lands below the feet of the landship were ruled by the desert kings of Savagia, and the dangerous wilderness that laid just beyond the relative safety of the Golden Road. He had heard much about this place in passing and from much hearsay across the many jobs he had done, but not once had he ever had the inkling to travel here until recently.

"Alright, you lot! On your feet. Come get your morning slop before its all gone."

The loud booming voice of the captain woke up the rest of the passengers aboard. All around him, the dozen or so men and women of the Iron Blades mercenary company slowly rose to their feet to join a rapidly forming line. Robert followed suit to get his share, making himself comfortable outside in the warm but strangely refreshing open air. He sat himself down on the deck of the magical landship to give himself a better view of the desert, the humongous fish tail like sails towering far overhead and its equally large six legged locomotion propelling the vessel effortlessly over soft sands below, providing every bit of stability that a ship on calm seas would provide. Before chowing down, he checked his browned tunic, trousers and leather boots out of habit. Normally after having spent nights in the outdoors, it was better to not waste a meal if suddenly attacked by the occasional tiny venomous insect that would ruin the rest of his day. Finding no such thing, he slowly fed himself his sloppy breakfast, wondering what was it that possessed him to sign up with the Iron Blades in the first place. Perhaps he felt like he needed a change of scenery from the now all too familiar surrounds of the forests, mountains and grasslands of the Crown Kingdoms. Perhaps he felt like he could earn far better pay by working for some of the wealthiest merchant houses in the land. Leaning forward to contemplate a little more, he found his real answer after remembering snippets of the strange dream he had almost a month ago. He could not recall exactly what it was about, but it had led him by the gut to cross hundreds of thousands of miles to come here. The only safest way to do that was to contract himself off to a company. It would have been far too difficult for him to have made the journey himself, even if he had spent half his life in his 29 years of existence with spell and sword in hand.