@Klezmer Gryphon It had been some time since Eihmo'tei had been snatched from the streets of Cirenis.
After countless weeks of travel, the four-wagon caravan had finally made it to the Moraki desert. Compared to the rest of the journey, there was only a short distance left before they reached the city of Essyrn. Still, this was hostile territory. The caravaneers knew this, and had armed themselves beforehand. They continued through the sands, to the city where they would claim their fortunes.
The Zerdani sat in his corner in the back of the wagon. He was absolutely ragged and starving, having been given only enough to keep him alive. His restraints were unnecessary, and had been removed long ago. He had utterly lost the will to escape. Now, it was about survival. Eihmo'tei could not beat them. They were bigger, stronger, and they had numbers. As long as he did not anger his human captors, they would not harm him, and would give him food and water.
The Zerdani had made it through the cold and the rain, just barely holding on to life. Now he was in his native heat, which made the situation a bit better. There was one danger, still prevalent on this journey. It was not weather, not starvation or thirst, but the loss of hope. The Zerdani tried his hardest to hold on to his positive spirits, but it was difficult. His will to live was hanging by a thread. Should that leave him, it would not be good.
The caravan continued, unknowingly walking right into a trap...
