Adsero walked slugishly across yet another dune of hot, dry sand. Sure, in theory the desert was the perfect place for her but while water was scarce, alcohol was no where to be found. At least other people could stop at an oasis and fill their canteens. She sighed. No change of scenery either. She continued to walk, bored and thirsty. Perhapse there was an oasis over the next dune.

(Meh, bit short)

A man with dark skin, bound in many different colored linens glided across the endless sands of the near infinite dunes in the deset before him. Why this man was travelling through this forsaken place is a mystery, as he seems to have no purpose here other than that of living. Moving along, with one arm holding a peice of cloth up to shield his face from the harsh elements, his other arm as tucked somewhere in the folds of his garb.

Coming across dune after dune, valley after valley, the traveller never lost patience as it strode on for its goal. An oasis, or some sort of shade. Of course, were it necesary, Tithdaeron could transform into a desert creature making it less necesary for shade or water, but at this time he would rather remain humanoid. It wass at this point that not far off in the distance, Tithdaeron saw a figure that was unmistakably female in the distance. A mirage? Likely. However, it was in the direction he was to travel, so Tithdaeron headed towards the figure.

Adsero continued across the dune. The heat didn't bother her but the sand that flew about was getting to be annoying. She stopped and pulled out a flask, disappointed to find it had barley any liquid left in it. Great. She sighed and put the flask back away. Spending a second to glance behind her, she noticed a figure approaching. What were those called? Minage? mebage? message? mecage? She couldn't remember. She cupped her hads around her mouth to help the sound travel better and yelled. "Um, if you're real, shout back at me!" Maybe if he was real, he would have some alcohol on him. A slim chance but a chance none the less.

Tithdaeron halted to observe the figure, as it began to shuffled with something. Focusing his vision, it seemed to be a round container of sorts, and when the figure attempted to drink something from it to obviously no avail he realized it was a canteen. His free hand, the one tucked away, gained a mind of its own and reached for his canteen. It made a poignant 'splork' noise as the special tea inside swished around the metal container. He smiled underneath his cloth armor against the desert.

Then, the figure spoke up. "Um, if your real, shout back at me!" it said. Ironic, Tithdaeron would think that a mirage would not be so obvious about it's not being false. Being in the personality he was in, that of a neutral but wily desert traveler, he responded over the gusts o hot air with ease. "What if the only real things in this land are those we suspect to be fake?"

Adsero raised her eyebrow. Was he making a joke? She didn't know. "If you can come up with words like that you're no figment of mine so I assume you must be real. In which case, I am Adsero and I would very much like to know if you have any sort of alcohol on your person." She glanced behind her but the view was the same. she saw no harm in moving towards the stranger. It would save them both some yelling, that was for sure. She started walking towards him, curious to see who this stranger was and even more curious about what kind of drink he held. Alcohol or not, no one went into the desert without drink.

Tithdaeron raised an eyebrow as he examined the scene more closely. Although through his seemingly human eyes it appeared a desert scene, through the chaotic vision blessed upon him as being an elemental of the sort, the myriad variations in the sand of the desert was quite striking. And even though the rather noticable burns on Adsero's face would shy a normal man away from her, Tithdaeron saw the flame inside of her and liked it. He had a feeling he would get along easily with her. No danger seemed to present itself readily.

Alcohol was a strange request however, it was common knowledge among many desert travellers, in fact, any traveler, that alcohol actually served to dehydrate rather than hydrate. The cooling effects felt were just side feelings from the alcohol addling the brain. "I am afraid no alcohol I have, but drink I do nevertheless. Are you in need?" replied Tithdaeron, producing his canteen from under his desert cloth. He saw that Adsero saw it safe enough to approach, and so did Tithdaeron.

They were but three feet apart, as was the recommended and unwritten rule of distance when it came to standing by mutual allies. "I am Sargoth." he said, introducing himself as the personality he had taken on.

Adsero smiled. "Nice to meet you Sargoth. I'm afraid alcohol is the only thing I can drink but thanks for the offer anyway." He looked to be of the friendly sort, not that Adsero was a very god judge of character. "What are you doing out here and the desert? It seems very void of towns or any of the normal reasons people travel places."

(really sorry for the sort post but I can't really think of what to post)

((No problem, I am a pro at this. :p ))

Tithdaeron as Sargoth nodded, a courteous gesture considering his current garb. He put away the canteen, and found it made sense that a person such as this would only consume alcohol. He had heard of Adsero the fire gaurdian, actually, some part of him told him that he had met her a time ago... A mental note was made deep within the recesses of his chaotic being, one that could be acsessed by any and all personalities he adopted.

"Desert travellers such as myself tend to travel across the desert. I am going no place in particular, I just stop by at towns and get supplies, then move on." replied Sargoth.