He took a slow breath into his lungs, cursing himself as he belied his facade with desire and anxious anticipation. After which his stoic mask of apathy reappeared upon his features, as his gaze passed over this motley crew of malnourished warriors, “Well?” he called out to them, “Which will it be? Am I to journey with you, or will you be pointing in the direction of where these hot sands end?”

Someone tentatively pointed back towards the city of Synthanos, and was glared down upon by Karastak's heated gaze. Of whom then shrank back just as one of the more resolute Warriors stepped forward with a small bow, “Thank you, Waterborn. Please convey our thanks to your master-”

A bolt of dark red energy lashed out towards the man, striking the space between his feet and transforming it into glass. Of which caused him to yelp as he fell backwards with widened eyes, “I do not have a master,” growled the hidden giant in Human flesh, “and why should I when I have been free since birth?”

This exclamation caused those still standing to mutter under their breaths, a few giving him a curious glance with a glint of greed within the corners. “He's not bound,” came one whisper.

“Perhaps a runaway slave?” wondered another.

“He'll fetch his weight in gold,” schemed a third, who pulled out a scroll of binding and proceeded to try and unfurl it in secret.

“What are you doing, Tonya?” growled the woman of the group in their own language, as a small child hugged her legs.

“That's a Mage,” he responded, somewhat aware of the man glaring down at him, but believed he would not hurt them due to the information they held and could not understand them, “and one of the sea-folk. If we bind this one now, we could use its water magicks to sell to the clan as well as sell him to the People for many coins.”

After which he quickly unfurled the scroll, but before he could begin to chant the words written and point towards his target, they each heard, “.” Thus causing twenty great, skeletal claws to rush up from the ground and wrap themselves tightly around nearly all of those gathered whilst leaving only their heads uncovered.

The only ones among their group to not be captured was the child and one of the more injured Warriors of the group. Of whom each had different reactions with the latter trying to scamper out and into the dunes, and the former trying his best to free his mother of the hardened sand bindings.

“Feast upon the Human, Little Mother,” a digit pointed off towards the one who desired to leave the area, and watched as she squeaked once more before darting away. Soon enough, the Warrior's screams drifted over to them, causing many to wince whereas the so called “Waterborn” slid down the sand.

Whereupon he gripped the sides of his face, and pulled off the magickal mask, revealing to those before them a giant whose skin and hair were as white as snow. Though, the robe itself retained its earth tones, the rest of himself became what he truly was. “M-monster,” croaked one of their number.

“R-run, Anja,” croaked the woman, whose body could do nothing, but shed tears as her eyes could only twitch, “G-g-get aw-way from here!”

“No, Mama!” he sobbed, doing his best to pull on the tightened grip of the unknown sand-like hand, “I won't leave you!” When the giant came upon them, however, the boy sniffed loudly and darted away towards one of the carts.

“Hmm,” he hummed softly, stroking his chin whilst contemplating on whether or not it would be beneficial to allow both mother and child to escape.

Unfortunately for them, the thought soon evaporated when he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. Staring down, he saw a bolt from a crossbow sticking out, and grinned as he fell onto his back with the thought of, 'Let's play a game,' as the bolt was slowly being dissolved by his . Whereas the rest of the group cheered at their saviour, but their excitement dwindled when the spell did not evaporate with the supposed death of the caster.

“It's probably on a timer,” grumbled Tonya, “Either that, or the bastard is still alive. Oi! Boy! Go drag out a scimitar and cut the Mage's head off.”

“O-okay,” shouted the muffled voice of Anja, who then huffed and grunted as he lugged the curved blade over to the fallen giant, but failed to notice that there wasn't a bolt sticking out of his gut, nor that any of his blood had spilled out upon the ground. Instead, he teetered and tottered as the blade was lifted over his head in order to bring it down upon the pale creature's body. Preferably aiming at the neck, but from the way he swayed under the weight, it was going to strike the chest or head itself.

However, just as the boy steadied his body to strike, something white in colour screeched down from the heavens above, swirling and biting the child who yelped and released the blade in order to try and fend off the tiny creature's attacks. Whereas the “fallen” giant stood up as though rising from the grave as a corpse would when summoned by a Necromancer. This led to the trapped group to gasp in horror, whilst the woman shrieked in anger and torment as the child's body bled as he cried.

“ANJA!” she wailed, but Karastak paid what was occurring little mind. For he had long ago decided to not involve himself in the affairs of children since his last life. However, if one was prone to violence, despite the reasons for it, his heart would become hard as they were rewarded with a harsh consequence. Therefore, he cared little and ignored the crying child as he was eaten alive by Little Mother. Only when the deed was done did he silently berate himself for allowing such a thing to occur, and offered up a silent prayer to whomever would listen for the child's essence.

Once completed, he turned to watch with apathetic eyes as the woman struggled fiercely against her bonds, and sent his pet to once against devour another Human. Of whom shrieked even louder as the bat entered her body from betwixt her legs. Whereas the others gasped in horror, a few releasing their bowels in fright, or passing out from the scene.

“Now then,” he growled, ignoring the now whimpering Human who was bleeding from a dozen bat sized holes riddling all over her body. His steps took him over to the one who had tried to bind himself, and decided to reciprocate in kind. Of which led to his right clawed hand to take up the same position as the skeletal grip did, and strained his grip closed.

This caused the Human's own mouth to gasp open as he struggled for the breath to scream whilst the sand-fingers moved to crush the life out of him. Whereas the others' complexions, those conscious, became an ash-white in colour as bones snapped and organs popped. The digits then dug themselves into the body, causing more damage internally, but the giant soon pulled his hand downwards. Of which caused the sand-like hand to pull the barely alive Human down into the sand as well, suffocating him.

“Now,” he turned towards the others, “which direction will I be heading?”

*

He learned four truths of Azzarath that day. The first being that Mages in this world, if they were within the boundary of Synthanos's territories, were enslaved and forced into servitude. If a Mage did not have a Master, then they are treated as runaways, but if they truly did not have one, then those who caught them would be rewarded handsomely. For new blood was always a welcomed sight, but the other territories and kingdoms were in a constant strife with one another due to their Mages going missing and being sold to King Solomon and his slavers.

A second truth was of the direction he wished to go to see trees once more. This surprised the group due to him originally having brown skin, but after it was revealed he was a pale giant of a man, and having an incredible hold over his magicks, Karastak was able to discern he needed to travel a full two days north and west in order to reach the border. Whereupon the sands of Synthanos's territory will become grass and trees. After which he will feel better and less naked under the glaring light of the above.

Another was of those called Waterborn. Who were the sailors of this world, and were able to control the elements of wind and water. Therefore, having a Mage who was able to control the elements would greatly benefit anyone who lived within a harsh region like the desert. However, finding one amongst the slaves of Synthanos was extremely rare, and anyone worth their salt would vie to purchase such a Mage.

The last truth of the world of Azzarath was of the Mage and other caster classes. As far as he could discern, they did not have the Enchanter class, and therefore did not have such a word in their System. So with him being an unknown upon the earth would only double his value to any and all captors. However, they did have an Alchemist class which allowed them to enchant various metals, but not anything else.

“Hmm,” he hummed as his mind absorbed this new information as he sat upon a hardened sand chair within a small structure that had three walls, a floor, and a roof above. It was a simple, open hut, and the opened wall allowed him to view those who were still gripped by the skeletal sand hands.

“Hey,” one of them called out, growing nervous from the five spots where their companions had met their doom from not complying with the pale creature before them. Their blood and silent screams had floated to the surface, causing the tan sand to be dyed a rust colour. Whereas the sixth decided to forgo pride and sing like a canary in order to not end up like the others.

“Hey,” he called out again, his bald head glistening under the scorching rays of the sun, “are you going to release me? I told you what you wanted, so let me go already!” The others grumbled as well, desiring to pick up the tatters of their lives and make all due haste away from the scene.

Little Mother squeaked softly upon Karastak's robed knee as his forefinger's knuckle stroked her back slowly, his eyes drifting away as he did so. However, this attention she received vanished as his eyes refocused upon the frowning Human who desired to run away. Therefore, he contemplated what would be beneficial to himself as she squeaked with indignation before wiggling her body under his hand. After which she sighed as his large thumb gave her chest and abdomen a slow caress.

“Hey! Are you even listening? I told you what you wanted to know, so let me go,” the talkative man struggled more fiercely, his remaining companions' eyes growing wide as they noticed the left hand of the pale giant taking up the shape of the clawed hand. The other did not notice this, and crowed happily as his right arm was freed. Of whom then turned towards those still alive, and frowned as they became horrified and dizzy as the his legs and abdomen were crushed into pulp.

It was then that he felt the pain, and opened his mouth to release a scream. However, as he was about the breathe in a lungful of air in order to release another howl, his entire body was sucked under the sand. Whereupon he no doubt suffocated as his lungs were filled with air, than the precious gasses.

The rest of them pleaded and demanded their release, but were ultimately swallowed up by the sand as well. Thus leading to Karastak to return his gaze back towards Little Mother, who sighed with contentment as his fingertips and knuckles rubbed up against her body with a practice ease.