Despite that scorching heat of day within the plains of the Sulpi desert, the night was something else entirely. Cold didn’t even begin to describe the bitter chill that hung heavy in the air, the type of icy temperature that stayed constant no matter how much you wrapped yourself in the skins of animals and buried yourself up to the neck in sand to conserve as much heat as possible. This, Tayne knew first hand.

At first he had scoffed at the Lord Thorne’s instruction, as the man had told the three to dig their bed in preparation, he lad laughed until red in the face as sweat dripped it’s constant way down over his face and chest. To which the Bloodthorne had smiled in good humour and said nothing as he threw a pile of warm furs over in Tayne’s direction.

And so Tay sat, blissful amongst his soft nest of dead animals, more comfortable than he had been in what felt like days… at least until the sun set, the burning orb of fire lowered from sight and the desert cast into the darkest of blacks. As it turned out, Lord Von’faygan was perhaps a little bit entirely correct, for the sun was not at present the only thing that had hidden, it seemed that Tay’s little Tay had shriveled in the cold until he was almost certain his wang had inverted, his testicles so tight that his nuts felt ready to burst. Needless to say, Tayne got to digging. Immediately. Something easier said than done in the utter inky pitch black, as more often than not Tayne got the distinct impression that he was more than likely filling the hole he had prior dug with the new sand from the section he was digging now. A fact that seemed mroe than confirmed almost an hour an a half later when he had eventually attempted to enter his hole in prepartion of pulling the displaced grains back over himself, only to find itfilled by but a single foot.

Tayne cursed loudly as he stood within the darkness. Fuck it. He thought to himself. Needed a piss anyway. Quietly he moved through the darkness with both hands held before him in the direction he was fairly sure the cave entrance had been, his feet moving in tiny steps to ensure should he have taken the wrong direction, if he made contact with one of his sleeping companions it may be slight enough to not cause them to wake. This was at least until his something decidedly furry and rather small skittered over his left foot. The scream that escaped the degenerate’s mouth shocked even himself as he darted away from the invisible horror and began to run blindly in the dark. “Ooomph” The air left Tay’s chest as he ran into something solid, something that at first he had assumed to be the cave wall, though his mind was immediately changed as the object fell with him to the floor with Tayne landing with a thud on top combined with an odd sliver like sound that ended in a wet gurgle.

“Lord Tay?” A voice sounded almost directly beside Taynes ear. Are you fucking serious. He had landed on top of the Bloodthorne. Of all the damned people in the damn cave you damn idiot. Suddenly Tayne became very aware of the fact that his confused shriveled member had somehow misconstrued panic, dear and alarm for arousal. Mini Tay, currently not so mini Tay. The light of a torch bloomed brightly less than a span away as Lord Thorne struck his sparksteel, the pitch soaked object ablaze in an instant. Tayne lowered his eyes to the man’s form below him with his apology poised on the tip of his tongue, then froze.

This wasn’t Thorne. It wasnt Javid or Tevin. He didn’t know who the fuck this was. The man pinned to the ground below him was caramel skinned with a thick dark beard stained with the blood that leaked steadily from his lips. Tay frowned as he attempted to work out just what the fuck was going on. The man sported the robes of the desert people, completed with a black turban atop of his head. In shock Tayne back up as he realised the cause of the man’s discomfort. It appeared that as Tayne had tripped in his haste, he had fallen on the outstretched arm of this man, whom happened to have a dagger bared. Tayne’s moderately substantial weight combined with the absolute darkness had caused said man to accidentally penetrate his own neck with his own blade under the fake dagonian’s sudden force.

“I don’t believe it.” Thorne’s awed voice sounded from beside him once more. “You’ve saved my fucking life again.”

“What?” Tayne shivered as he spoke, still confused as to just what the fuck was going on.

“His turban, you see the symbol?” Tayne looked down at the now silent man. His black turban was emblazoned with a white triangle filled with the outline of a single eye. “Des’sanminati” Thorne continued. “Desert assassin. The hired killers of the unofficial guild of slavers.” Tayne felt sick. “I doubt they know we’re after them yet, so this must be from the brawl back in the tavern the other night… I assume we hurt some feelings.” The insane bastard even chuckled as he finished speaking. “Again Lord Tay, I am in your debt and I cannot thank you enough. You honor our family, Thank you brother.”

“I need a piss.” The words escaped before he could stop them, he just didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t until this very moment that Tayne realised what had even happened. Somehow, purely by chance, the drunken degenerate had stumbled unwittingly into a assassin mid way through job completion and somehow managed to best him without even trying. Lady luck be praised. Thorne chuckled.

“Even now he accepts no praise. You’re a good man Lord Tay, the best I know. Sleep well.”

And with that he rolled back over and shut his eyes, the body that seeped crimson liquid down to the sand around him totally ignored.

Ahhh shit. The thought resounded within his mind as once more his leg grew damp and warm. Slowly Tayne shrugged. Warm is warm.