So we're travelling the desert with the Equus. Everyone is all stern and serious about the mission. By the stars! I really did get signed up on the wrong tour. There was nothing more for it than to drink my rum and have some fun.

I have pretty much confirmed in my mind that my Equus is far smarter than most of the people I've met. Never having ridden a land animal before, it seemed my mount was teaching me how to ride. To test this theory I hatched a bit of a practical joke for the evening. Obviously the rest of the group has no sense of humour - or at least its drier than the dam desert.

Now that I think back on it, being inebriated only made the evening more fun. I had finished my rum early that morning and if it were not for a travelling group of sales-wrinklies, I would have been sobre by nightfall. I bought two of their finest and enjoyed one of them for the rest of the day. I think I've discovered how to tell them apart, sex-wise. As usual, in my attempt at improving their complexion, I offered my ointments around. What I would assume are females giggle and accepted it, using on themselves. I could tell they adored me. Obviously my presence and good looks cross racial boundaries. Poor women. They would need barrel loads of ointment to fix their problems.

During this time I noted that my Equus seemed interested in the mount of the pompous fellow. My trained eye at noticing unrequited love helped here and my practical joke was developing into some more, almost a romantic event to help out my poor mount. The muse was looking my way - of course, who could blame her - with a cute look on her face. Well it was cute to me, most people would perhaps classify it as something else, but cute will do. I could tell she was thinking the same things I was. These Equus were certainly roomy.

So that evening we make camp and I go to feed my Equus. A couple of words later and I'm helping him make his moves on the female Equus he had his eye on. I like his style. He was stealthy and would have made it if that pompous fool hadn't decided to "check out the campsite". Well we will have to give it another go later.

Because of this interuption to the proceedings, the fool was not on guard where he should have been and a creature that look as if it was created directly out of the night's sky attacked the muse in her tent. Of course all the "male heroes" in the group rushed to attack the beast, not paying any particular attention to our female companion. I, on the other hand, knew what had to be done. Trusting in the luck of the cards, I challenged the beast to a fight and moved in. The creature took my challenge and focused his efforts on me. With this, the lady was safe, and I dispatched the beast with small help from the others. I did notice that Ha Bibi was quiet the canny fighter. If I didn't know better I would think he had studied under the Gypsy clans. My suspicions were further increased when I witnessed him employed the Arts of my brethren. Perhaps the desert people have their own Gypsies, descended from our Great Mother.

Eager to impress, the others all ran out to locate where the beast had been summoned from. It had been determined that the creature was summoned from beyond, and needed a user of the Arts to bring forth. I stayed to protect the woman, wondering if they would send a second creature after her. The bumbling fools couldn't locate water in a river without the luck of the Sarista to guide them. Once again I consulted the cards and brought about good fortune in the form of coincidence. All their efforts somehow located the spellcaster. A short battle later, he was captive and they proceeded to interrogate him.

I have always disapproved of maiming captives, so I turned my eyes away from what they were performing on the man, inadverntantly gazing at the woman I guarded. She looked at me with doe eyes, innocent and trusting in my strength and power to protect her. There was something else there as well, but to distract myself I drew a circle of protection about her tent. Once the interrogation was complete, I gave the man my second bottle of wine and offered my apologies with a simple "I'm sorry".

From what my blood thirsty companions discovered, he was part of a renegade group who hunted travellers for their treasures. Well this was one person they would not divest of his valuables. I need to save every coin to buy a new ship. After a short group discussion we decided to retire to bed and head into the city on the morrow. The trip would take most of the day and so I was glad for some wine in my pack. The muse pulled me into her tent, perhaps intent on thanking me for my role in her protection that evening. Being the honorable rogue that I am, I simply held her in my arms until she slept and crept out to guard her the rest of the night.