Sloan gave a steady nod, "Trade routes are important for business opportunities for both parties. I will wait for more news tomorrow and rest until then." Sloan stood up, the nicks of windy glass on his chest not seeming to bother him. He turned towards the flap of the tent and regarded it with his usual stern look of thought. Looking over his shoulder at the Basliel, "I would not mind sleeping in this tent to insure your safety." Which is the suave way of saying I looked around town instead of setting up my own tent.
Basliel's response was a nod, considering the possibility. "I would hope it does not come to that, as this stop is for mercantile purposes."
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
It takes four hours for the storm to blow over, and by the time that the curious sound of the storm has quieted enough for shelter to not be required, the night had well and truly fallen. Slowly, the sounds of movement are heard, though they are tentative, and even that is hesitant. The shelter held, but it was almost an uncertain thing, as throwing the tent flap back gave you a view of what land and surfaces that you could see, reflecting light from millions of surfaces. Closer examination shows that every surface that was exposed to the storm was practically covered in not ice, but glass! A lot of it had shattered on impact, leading to the situation that was now presenting itself. Sturdy boots would perhaps hold up, but a fall on the sand would be terrible.
Basliel is most intrigued by what he can see from the tent, blinking out at what could be seen with awe. "...Remarkable..."
Rasheeda pales, looking at the shards of glass, thinking that even while most weren't life-threateningly large, the sheer amount of them would tear someone to ribbons. She immediately understands, on a deep level, why it made everyone so anxious. "I've seen a lot in my time," She remarks quietly, picking up one of the shards of glass. "But never anything like this."
"I'm told it's exceedingly rare", commented Basliel. "Once decade or something similar." He looked over the area of the wall that their wagons occupied to see the ground stirring in human-sized sections. The guards that had been with them earlier threw off the layer of sand that had covered them, a significant amount shifting away as they came out from under the heavy fabric that they had used to shelter themselves.
Of what you can see, a couple are a bit bloodied, but nothing life-threatening.
Sloan wakes with a slight start, his back having relaxed itself against the tent until the storm ended. Placing a hand on the ground to get himself up again, he stopped, "The ground is moving. Are there...horsemen riding to here?" As that is when the ground normally moves. Letting the others eye the glass, he stands and peers out of the tent flap as well, but looking for figures on the horizon. Or sand clouds. Or both.
At Sloan's mention of the ground, everyone quiets for a handful of seconds and the slight tremors can be felt. It is slower than a heartbeat, but is definitely some sort of regular occurrence. Of the couple of guards that you can see, it does not seem like they have noticed what the four of you have.
"Miss Malik, if you would, gather a few pieces of that for me, if you would? This phenomenon is remarkable— now that we've survived." A bit rueful, he chuckled. "That also explains the looks I was getting when I asked them to just make this shelter, they looked at me like I was crazy!" A bit more laughter that was tinged with relief followed that comment, now that the belated realization had set in...
Sloan let the flap of the tent fall closed, turning his bulk to the merchant, "What else would you have asked them to make? Breakfast?" Which wasn't that bad an idea at all. He lumbers towards his pack, which he had set on the ground to act as a pillow, and pulls out his rations, and the rations for the other two. To each, "Here, the day's rations. Eat and be hearty."
Rasheeda nods, and begins carefully collecting some of the glass. What he would hope to discern from it, she couldn't say. It looked like ordinary glass to her. Though she had long ago learned that there were those who could see many things that weren't there. Placing the pile of glass down, she takes the ration from Sloan, nodding gratefully. Quickly checking her fingers for glass splinters (the last thing she needed in the desert was an infection), she began to eat quickly, surveying as she did. The ground tremors beneath her feet were unsettling, and she longed to begin moving again. "So, what's next?" She asks quietly, her eyes meeting Basliel's.
Agatsu was maybe too used to the whole thing, and his perception was failing. He stick together to his companions, in his usual silent way, and helped collecting the glass stones for analysis. His banded mail should provide enough protection to his hands, yet he did the entire thing as carefully as he could.
While eating the ration, the Human shook his head after Rasheeda questioned the next steps.
We should wait a little more... To see if it really settles. Then, we can proceed on the trading route business. - he finally said, towards his companions and on a controlled volume.
Basliel was peering out the other side of his lean-to, and then up at the sky. "Goodness, but the view is probably beautiful from the sands— and deadly, no doubt. I am pretty sure that the bright moon would make for something quite poetic if I were the type whose skills leaned that way." He turned back towards the others and sighed, a wry smile there and gone as he met Rasheeda's look. "Given the unique weather, I would not expect for anything to be done until the ground is cleared, and that may take a while."
To Sloan, the ground had not stopped the pulsing rhythm that he had detected, but there had been no screams yet.
Outside, communication can be heard, of the men relaying information, and checking in with one another. There also was the sound of some of the glass being moved, and checking to see what it was would see some of the inhabitants of the city wielding poles with a length of teeth at the end, raking it through the sand in front of them to clear the ground. If the sound of glass against glass was any indication, it was something that was occurring in several places. It would still be a trio of hours before things would be clear enough to go about a normal night, and at this rate, that would be midnight, at a guess.
"Still, while I have your company, can any of you notice anything about this.. glass?" Basliel seemed unconcerned about being penned in this shelter for another few hours. At least the flaps could be thrown back without fear of being scoured by winds of glass.
_______________________________
Sloan's cat eyes caught sight of the glass outside, when he had checked for horses, and then the samples that his companion was collecting. After a long while in thought, "It is almost like a mirror, yet colorful. It is strange, I almost feel as if I have seen it somewhere before. If I have, it was a long, long time ago."
"Being carried on the wind is strange enough." Rasheeda remarks. She feels the shards of glass in her hand to see if they have any weight, curious about how such a thing could have happened without strong magic.
The glass in your hand is light, but strong. The largest piece you've gathered is the size of your palm, but it takes a considerable bit of effort (or tools) to break. Other than that, it seems like the glass that you have seen in windows, though it does have an unfinished look to it. At the least it is certainly a natural occurrence, the marks on shards and pieces that you have seem natural. They were obviously hurled from the storm, but that would beg the question of their formation.
Basliel catches Sloan's words and is wearing a look of inquiry. "Was this place in the desert when you had seen something like this?"
At this point, the guards had cleared a path to the tent, offering the three of you a chance to leave the smallish lean to. One of the sand raking tools is offered to the first person to exit the tent, and you can see the outside of the material virtually covered in shards of the glass. Luckily none of them cut through. The area is illuminated with lanterns and some torches, and the light reflects easily off of the glass, making it seem like there are paths in the sand carved through starlight.
It is late, but aside from the activity in this little area of the caravan, you can hear similar things going on nearby.
Shall we rest for the night and follow our mission in the morning? - asks Agatsu, realizing it's late. He actually could go for some strong beverage before sleeping, but didn't want to be caught in the middle of a shattering storm.
Sloan eyed the glass, rotating it slowly within his hand. His claws were a fine point of contact, and his movements were careful. His brows were so deeply set inward that he looked like he could close his eyes at any moment, "It is probably not the same. But I lived in the woods at the time. I don't know where that glass came from, either."
Sloan pulled the flap to the tent open again, tossing the glass outward. Looking up at the night sky, Sloan gives a firm nod, "We should. I will clear the path." He said as he accepted the rake. He was very dilligent too, creating a wide path from the lean-to to their tent.
A path and area can be cleared with little effort from Sloan, as well as setting up your tents. There was some comfort in setting it up within walls, though. All of you can rest a little easier than you did when you were traveling. As you settle down for the night, the sounds of everyone setting back up could be heard outside of their encampment, and it was likely that things would be back to what passed for normal around here come morning.
The sun meeting the sand had seen some in the city that had not slept, and others that were certainly intending on sleeping past the dawn, given the opportunity. The sounds of camp in the morning greet your ears, accompanied by the sounds of the waking city behind it and the smells of a number of foods being cooked. The wind is a gentle occasional breeze, and as you step outside your tent, shaking your boots out to dislodge any hazards that may have crawled in there overnight, you find the glass is gone.
There is no evidence of the glass that once littered the ground, though there is still undeniable evidence of the hours-long storm that you experienced the previous day. There are still embedded pieces in the other surfaces that were hit, the wagons that you came in are still covered where they have not been cleaned off by their owners. The walls themselves show no evidence, however. It does make quite the contrast as you look around. Some of the tents are already back up, while others are being erected. Normalcy is returning to the tent city.
Sloan ceases his sleeping slowly, scratching at his bare chest. Opening his eyes, he sits up with a grunt and presses his palm against his forehead, rubbing it. Eventually, he was dressed and moved graciously outside the tent. Letting his stern eyes fall on the sand before him. Squinting, he blocks the sun with his hand, "Someone has done a fine job cleaning the sands."
There was a low grumbling sound from his throat, probably a pleased sound, before he returned to his tent. Digging out the mess kit, he prepared breakfast. As he was doing so, he perked up his tail and touched the ground with his hand. "Hmm. It's gone now." Taking some of the sand into his hand, he let it fall, before returning to his breakfast gumbo.