The greenery that surrounded the small lake of blue in the distance was a welcome change to the barren hell I had passed through. I had literally spent four days, sunrise to sunset, traveling in the same direction almost non-stop seeing nothing but sand, sand, and more sand with a mix of dirt and rocks thrown in here and there. Other than the odd Pit Gorger or Sand Worm, there hadn't been any sign of significant life either. So, finding an oasis seemed to be almost too good to be true. If I was 'alive,' I might have even run for all I was worth to throw myself in the no doubt cool water with wild abandon while praising whatever deity I believed in. Instead, I just casually floated over, leaving a dust cloud in my wake.

The oasis looked almost like the ones from Earth with palm trees, shrubs, and grass in addition to a few, unfamiliar malpa fruit trees. The entire spread of the greenery was about the size of a couple football fields, something truly big for the middle of a desert but the truly interesting thing was the bizarre wooden pole standing on the shore of the lake. Dodging a couple of desert rabbits that were scampering away for all they were worth, I approached the pole for a closer look. It was covered in carvings of animals and trees along with geometric shapes, almost ritualized in design. The leather banner hanging from it, however, didn't do too well in matching the pole's mystique with the banner's depiction of a crudely drawn skull with twin, crossed scimitar behind the skull.

I tilted my head, trying to figure out what it was supposed to mean. The banner obviously represented someone, and as frayed as it was, there was no way it was centuries old, especially with the other evidence laying around. Nearby, I found tracks and signs of two foot activity along with old fire pits and holes, mostly likely caused by pegs for tents. I even found old discarded bones, no doubt belonging to the ancestors of the rabbits wandering around and also spied dried out clumps of dung scattered in places. All the clues pointed to the oasis being a camping spot for travelers.

So, I was left with a decision: move on looking for civilization or camp the place for victims... no, for helpful passersby. Tossing a rabbit bone up and down in my left hand while holding a Beacon with my right hand, I ruminated on my choices, but fate made the decision for me. “Mrrraaaaawwwww...” The bleating and bellowing sounds faintly became audible, as though they were coming from a distance.

I began casting [Invisibility] as I moved into a nearby thicket to get out of sight. Now, I was not the shy type nor the stalker type. However, showing up in front of strangers suddenly with the way I looked was kind of... well... kind of asking to be attacked. It wasn't like I had a green label over my head marking me as a friendly or that I looked like some handsome or pretty, random encounter, who you would invite to your camp fire for no reason.

So, as I finished casting [Invisibility], my body and the Beacon I was holding became see through, as the magic coated me and the Beacon in a film that allowed light to literally 'pass' through. It wasn't foolproof as someone watching for movement or for inconsistencies, could most likely spot me. However, as I finished casting [Invisibility], I also rose in the air, so I was floating a couple stories high above everything.

In the distance, I saw camels carrying packs and barrels trudging along the dry terrain, but they weren't alone as light brown skinned humans covered in flowing white and brown garments walked alongside them. That wasn't all, as lightly armored horsemen also rode among the group, and the flash of their weapons and armor was visible even at a distance. However, as more of them came into view, I realized something was off. The group of better dressed figures was accompanied by more ragged looking people, most wearing scraps of clothing and all tied to one another in two lines using ropes binding their hands. There was no difference in features between the captors and captives, as though they all belonged to the same race.

As the group of more than three dozen humans and their accompanying animals reached the oasis outskirts, I pretty much had an idea what kind of people... scum I was dealing with. The skull and crossed scimitars banner from before had prepared me for the worst, but considering my own identity as an undead, I had been willing to withhold premature judgment. However, it was kind of hard to ignore the bearded bastards whipping and driving forward the twenty or so malnourished and sunburned men and women, who were stumbling and moaning as they entered the oasis.

Seeing the greenery must have awakened them from their sluggish mood, as the captives suddenly surged forward, ignoring the guttural yelling around them and rushed the lake. While the horsemen spread out across the oasis as though scouting the place, the men on foot split into two groups. Some began tending to the camels and donkeys, while others began cursing at and beating the captives, who were busy dragging each other desperately into the water.

“Gat uf a wutar!”

“Wutar...”

“Thunc Vaista!”

“Buc Vurmin!”

The yelling and sounds of relief mixed together in a cacophony until the the bearded, armed men dragged the captives out of the water by force, punching and whipping them almost casually. Floating in the air above them all, I had a bit of a hard time understanding what they were saying. They were speaking something that sounded very much like Sulvansa, a language that had been spoken by the nomads of Sulvanc desert and plains during Neduzar's time.

However, I didn't need to listen to their dialogue to understand the scene playing out below me. “Fucking slavers...” It didn't take a genius to put two and two together, and while there was a chance that they were some legitimate business group or the local authorities, it didn't mean that they weren't in the process of dragging what looked like badly beaten and malnourished captives across a hellish terrain while leaving them poorly equipped for the trek. Also, I didn't think anyone who considered themselves a legitimate, authority figure would wear parts of human skulls on their heads as helmets, like some of these men were doing.

Rubbing my own borrowed head, I muttered in my mind, “Maybe...?”