Jan 22 2020, 08:03 PM
The Masked Merchant stood just inside Hydra, motionless, the mouth of Tunnel P forming a dark backdrop that yawned wide behind him.
For long moments, alone in the searing wind, he stood utterly still. And then his arms, slowly, like the rising sun the caves had never seen, rose high. They reached their apex and waited there, and still he stood in silence.
He had chosen a moment where no one would see him come, or go; no one would see him standing here. It was he alone, and Hydra: and Hydra responded.
Gradually, the hot winds tapered off. A strange, still silence pervaded the entirety of the massive cave, and then... it began to cool. Powerful vortexes of wind roared here and there, short-lived but violent, as hot and cold collided. A blinding haze of chaotic sand filled the air. Still it grew cooler, and cooler, like the coldest desert night and then even colder still...
The Merchant lowered his arms, unhurried, and turned, and left the cave.
The hours stretched; the air stilled. And then snow began to fall.
For long moments, alone in the searing wind, he stood utterly still. And then his arms, slowly, like the rising sun the caves had never seen, rose high. They reached their apex and waited there, and still he stood in silence.
He had chosen a moment where no one would see him come, or go; no one would see him standing here. It was he alone, and Hydra: and Hydra responded.
Gradually, the hot winds tapered off. A strange, still silence pervaded the entirety of the massive cave, and then... it began to cool. Powerful vortexes of wind roared here and there, short-lived but violent, as hot and cold collided. A blinding haze of chaotic sand filled the air. Still it grew cooler, and cooler, like the coldest desert night and then even colder still...
The Merchant lowered his arms, unhurried, and turned, and left the cave.
The hours stretched; the air stilled. And then snow began to fall.
Over the coming days, the Dead Marsh and the rivers of the Crucible will freeze. Cold-blooded Lesser Gembound will hide themselves away, the cold-blooded among them finding crevices in which to lay in a torpor--or failing that, will die, frozen, in the open. The Eyehooks huddle, bewildered and miserable, atop their plateaus. Beneath the sands, the Sand Worms lay half-dormant.