sobek squre

Now I was a spice trader and that means travelling to every corner of the known world. I’ve encountered almost every running, flying, crawling creation of the gods. But nothing could prepare me for that late summer day under the unrelenting desert sun that seemed to full the sky.

After weeks at sea my party and I had arrived in the Gulf of Medes and landed on the borderlands of Araby and the Land of the Dead, also known as Nehekhara. We were in search of legendary spice that was said to keep the mind awake and allow a man to go for days without sleep.

We joined a caravan of local trader heading inland; we were warned of the dry, dead lands to the east. The kings of old that still think they rule as they did 100’s of years ago, unaware their bodies were no longer living flesh and the armies they command contained strange constructs.

We’d been on camel back for about a week when we came to a large river, which was so wide we would not have been able to cross had it not been completely dry, a cracked pathway winding through the desert dunes. The local guide was keen to cross quickly and move on, telling of a time when this river was known for it’s hungry population of crocodiles, as place belonging to their god Sobek. We saw this as simple native mumbo gumbo and after handing over a considerable amount of coin, we set camp for the night.

As evening fell a fierce storm began to brew, probably fuelled from the heat of the day. The rains came on quickly and beat hard against the canvas of our tents. I for one, couldn’t rest under such a downpour so decided to check on the camels and that our supplies were safe. It was then that I saw the river was flowing again, but not with the waters of the storms outpouring, but with sand. Yes, it acted just as water with waves, eddes and splashes, but made entirely of sand…

This revelation was not the thing that made me run, it was the fact that swimming in the river of sand were crocodiles, massive pale, sandstone coloured beasts. I mounted the fastest camel in the caravan and looking back could see more creatures climbing the banks of the river and headed towards the camp. As the river of sand flow built, it began to break over the banks and riding these waves I saw skeletal men riding stone crocodiles like demigriffs. Madness was taking hold of me and making the best speed possible without beating my mount to death, I took one last look back to the carnage that had become our camp, I saw a golden ship clear the river and ride it’s own wave of sand into the camp, with skeleton spearmen killing all within reach.

I will never travel again beyond the 4 walls of this humble house, here in the centre Altdolf. But now I must bid you goodnight as I must find the bottom of this bottle, if I am to sleep tonight, I see rain clouds building in the south…