Wayspring Wanderer - A Desert Druid LitRPG

Once outside, they noticed the other Oasis inhabitants were beginning to wake, and the marketplace began to fill quickly. They walked slowly, planning on making their way across to present themselves to Gramm. It didn't mean they wanted to be the only ones conspicuously walking around, though. Even in the early morning bustle, the reserved tone they'd seen the day before was present. Oskar kept his head down and made to look as if he was studying the red swirls of color in the rock floor as they walked.

Staring at rocks. I feel like an idiot.

He just knew his PUB getting ready to react in flashes or words to his careless comment, so he cut it off before it could get it out.

Nope, don't you even react to that. I regretted it as soon as I said it.

Ahead, Fox made a "tsk" sound and picked up the pace as they drew near, and then said under her breath, "They were already starting the search for us this morning. We must get close enough they cannot pretend they "caught" us hiding."

Oskar understood the silliness of the situation. They were having to sneak to what amounted to turning themselves in before the guards could get credit for the catch. Silly or not, it could have deadly consequences, and he was already feeling his dark mood cancelling out his decent night's sleep.

The group weaved through the marketplace, keeping tents between the roving trios of guards as they drew closer to the Point. They'd been noticed by one of the Point guards, but he just watched them with a twinkle of mischief. At one point, he even warned them with a shake of his head not to move when they were about to walk between a pair of tents, which saved them from a pair of Hyena-men who'd unexpectantly switched directions. Turns out, the hyenas were just hungry and went for food, but Oskar offered a grin of thanks.

I am constantly surprised by the people of this world. It would do me good to remember the "people are people" line. Not everyone is purely good or bad, and I am a total stranger here.

They were forced to go out into the open on the last stretch, and so they moved quickly. They finally made it outside the marketplace's rows of tents to the guards in front of the Point just as they heard the call of a distant guard yell "Halt!" as a last ditch effort to nab them, but the smirk on the big red Croc they'd stopped in front of gave a chuckle and an appreciative nod at them for making it without getting caught.

"Good job." He said in a low voice, and looked above them at the breathless blue Croc, now cursing and jogging over to them. Surprisingly, he added, "Hate that guy" with a long sigh.

Oskar stifled his laugh, and kept his face as still as possible as he surreptitiously looked around to see the guards closing in on them.

It had been decided that since Gramm seemed to have a particular dislike for Kobolds right now that Oskar would speak for the group. It wasn't that Crocs considered humans much better, but Kobold's were not allowed to be in charge of anything, and so the job was unfortunately left to him.

From the looks the breathless blue gave him when he announced clearly they were there to present themselves to Chief Gramm in accordance to the law, he was already on the bad side of at least some of the guards.

That big red guy, though...

When he looked back to the Point guard, though, his pale red face was bored. No sign of the mischief that had been there seconds before.

He's a smart Croc, alright. He looks a little older, but obviously knows how to have fun with boring work, and not get in trouble doing it.

Taking in the scene around him, he saw the temporarily staring crowd disperse as the trio of Crocs, led by the blue colored Guard, stopped in front of Oskar. Another group of Hyenas pointlessly spread out behind them to cut off any attempts to escape. Oskar relaxed his posture and kept his hands visible, resting loosely on his spear as he politely waited.

“Stuuu… ahhh, Pink one. Chief Gramm want talk,” the large blue figure rumbled, blinking slowly.

He had trouble thinking of them as hulking after seeing the Drakon, but this guy was big, even for a Croc. Oskar saw Fox's shoulders tense a little at the Chief title, but thankfully remained silent as she waited for Oskar to reply.

The Croc glanced dismissively at the Kobolds, blinked slowly again, and added, “Pink one can bring his slav-“

“Our modest Collective would be honored,” Oskar cut him off before he said something that Fox might not be able to ignore and made sure the Croc and anyone listening knew they were a team. Probably not the smartest thing to do, but he also wanted to make sure the Kobolds knew he saw them that way. As equals and friends, even if it caused problems with the obviously insecure Crocs.

“If say so,” the Croc grumbled with obvious disdain, blinking slowly at them for some reason and then turned. Blinker sashayed away with a wave at the Hyenas, who cackled a little and followed.

The red scaled Croc might have winked as they passed, but Oskar was already feeling the pressure set in. He felt tense and his body was coiled with nervousness. Due to the situation, the anticipation of finally laying eyes on another human wasn't the comfort it should have been. It did distract some of his dark mood, though, by adding in nervous anticipation.

He had to see for himself, but if this “pet human” wasn’t Erik as Fox’s description heavily suggested, he still had to deal with seeing a person mistreated and enslaved, which had it's own challenges. Already, the general air of superiority the majority of the Crocs tried to pull off made him want to feed them their own tails. It was nice to meet a Croc that didn't seem to be a complete prick.

People are people. Good, bad, and ugly... well, they’re probably all ugly.

As they approached the point, he noticed two things. First: it was much larger than he'd thought. This whole second of the Collective was part of the Point, the angle just got sharper near the overhang ahead of them. Second: there was an entire lower tier of platforms beneath split into two sections. They were separated in the middle by a deep ravine, but the entire thing was still mostly protected by the cliff face that wrapped around the whole Collective. Where he'd initially thought there was open sky, there was instead a descending, jagged wall on both sides that wrapped around most of the two platforms below until they both descended out of sight.

The right side lower platform was covered in a strange maze of ruins. The left was a large, walled in, flat arena with tiered rows of too-small stone benches wrapped in a semi-circle around the stained sand that made up the arena floor.

Looking at the view as a whole, Oskar noticed the tip of the Point was perfectly centered between the two lower platforms. The Ruins looked all but abandoned, but the Arena looked well used, if currently empty. They could see old blood-colored stains on the stone floor of the arena, and there was a platform with steps that led upward to the main platform they now stood on. The ruins had their own platform below them as well, but with no steps leading downward.

To their right, in a place obviously chosen for the view and the steady breeze, a sheer tent covered a level seating area where a fat Croc sat. Walking closer, he got his first close up look at a Drakon. He was massive, and Oskar could see swirling, fiery color in the eyes under the hood that mostly hid the details of his features. He was standing behind and to the right of who Oskar assumed was Gramm, watching them intently with those fiery orange eyes. He wanted to say the look was a little dramatic, but it wasn't. It was intimidating.

Oskar clenched his jaw, though, as he noticed the slender, bent figure in a white robe who was facing the opposite direction. The man's feet dangled off the side of the point looking out over the Ruins. The wind blew the thin cloth of the robe tight against his emaciated back.

The hope Oskar didn't know he was holding onto sank. Erik was even broader than Oskar with black, thick hair. This too slender figure had jaggedly cut white hair, and a short white beard poked out from behind his hooded, bowed head. He couldn't make out any features really from this angle, but even still, the abuse was painfully apparent.

Damn it. Whoever that poor guy is, I can see his whole rib cage.

Oskar forced himself to relax his jaw before he chipped a tooth.

Either way, the human didn’t even react to their presence, even when the fat Croc introduced himself.

It took effort to steel his face as Gramm spoke, barely even registering the scan that told him he really should be paying attention to the massive Croc, who was a yellow threat according to a PUB scan, despite his seemingly ungainly bulk.

“I Chief Gramm. I see you like pet.” The Croc leaned in, beady eyes gleaming, “He not talk. Not tell me things, so... I decided he not need tongue.” He leaned back again, guffawed at his own joke, and of course, Blinker and his crew joined in.

Gramm was obviously baiting them, but Oskar’s rage at this poor human’s situation and his disappointment at not finding his brother had turned the feeling into a simmering sort of anger. He could still feel his blood pounding in his ears, though.

He cut out the poor guy's tongue.

Neglect was bad enough, but that purposeful act of cruelty made everything simpler. He was not sure how it was possible, but Oskar wanted more than anything to dismantle this place with his bare hands.

This pathetic version of civilization where the only thing remotely interesting is the stupid Clinkers.

“I’m Oskar, this is Fox and Touwon. We’ve formed a small Collective and have come here to trade.” Oskar said plainly, trying to keep his voice devoid of emotion, mentally trying to avoid initiating a vengeful Gambit.

The Croc’s eyes were greedy as he asked, “Trade what, piiink?” The word "pink" was slimy with connotation Oskar couldn’t quite nail down, but it was more than patronizing and all-around creepy. It set his nerves even more on edge.

I’m glad we decided on not giving this greasy waste of space anything useful, especially closure about his pops.

"We have food and some bits and pieces of Gear we found."

"Gear? What kind, and how they die?" His beady eyes were intense behind his Goggles. Oskar saw that he straps almost too small for his big head.

"Hyena or Kobold, we could not tell, and one set from a Crocodillian, all unfortunate victims of the desert or its predators, from what little we could gather."

Gramm stared at him for a moment before looking briefly at the Kobolds behind him, who looking down at the stone floor.

“Funny thing, that, piiiink thing. Vulk had one, two useless stinks. Stinks find water, make for easy life. Now you have one, two stinks. And I not hear anything from Vulk in long time. He supposed to be here soon, though.”

He paused, beady eyes gleaming as he waited, watching, letting the tension build before continuing with a good natured tone that didn't match his flat stare.

“But... desert is hard place. Claim weak, and sometimes claim strong. Don’t care much as long as I get my cut. Stinky rats everywhere. Who cares who holds leash. Too many little rats for my taste, even though many dead now,” he said with a shrug of his fat shoulders. “Good, I say.”

He stared at the Kobolds, and to their credit, neither moved or changed their expression. Oskar’s eyes shifted back to the white robed human who was staring out over the pointed rock, and then watched the Drakon wander off lazily. He must not have been very impressed by Oskar and the Kobolds, because he didn't even bother glancing back.

Gramm smiled, and Oskar looked back to the huge Croc as the Chief spoke, “Must consider trade permission. Sleep here, safe, in place we prepare. Tomorrow, we talk, piiink?”

The words were a dismissal, not a question, but as he turned to leave, frustrated and disgusted, the human figure shifted.

Wait... did that half dead prick just shoot me a bird?

Oskar's heart sank into his stomach.