Meeting the Locals

Atop the sand-skim, a ragtag group of men and women scrambled across the deck, keeping the sails steady as the horde of sand striders slowly gained on them. They clenched their weapons tightly with grim faces, prepared to bail and hold their ground at any moment. Was this the moment they would make their last stand…?

However, before they could entertain any more thoughts of heroic sacrifice, a blur sped past them and crashed into the horde with a resounding boom, the ensuing gust blasting sand everywhere. The sand-skim, too, almost tipped over from the blast, until another figure landed on the tipping corner and forced the sand-skim back to the ground.

"Who…?" one of the caravan guards started to ask, clinging on to his turban as he got back up to his feet, but the sharp glare from the newly arrived woman quickly silenced him.

"Alright, who wants some– Ack!"