Desolate like the Dunes

[Rick]

It'll be a lie to say that Rick spent most of the afternoon looking for Damas. To his defense, he did ask a few people around, but none of them had any leads. Instead, he found a good sit under the tent of a bar, asked for some alien beverages, and proceeded to pretend to enjoy the hot afternoon under a more passable shadow. Most people here seemed to know each other, flocking together and filling the ambient with loud chat and drunk laughter. The bartender, on the other hand, didn't talk with anyone in particular, prefering to keep his head low and only answer to what his job demanded of him. Even those who pushed for a warmer interaction were met with simple and cold answers.

Maybe someone like him would know about Damas. Just maybe. It wouldn't hurt to ask anyway.

Once Rick finished the weird acid but surprisingly sweet drink, he called the bartender, who right now was on the other side of the counter after just dealing with another client.

"Yes?", he said with a stern frown, which emphasized the many wrinkles on his middle-aged dark skin.

"I'm looking for this guy". Rick took the photo Ashlein gave him and showed it to the bartender. "Do you happen to know something about him?"

"He came here like a week ago. No idea where he is now."

Oh? "A few days back? Guess I came to the right place."

"I never forget who comes here. Anything else?"

"Do you know who I could ask for more information?"

"Barthor. He's a regular client – tends to come here at night. I saw him talking to your guy the last time I saw him. That's all I know."

"That'll be enough, then. Thanks."

The bartender returned to his bartending duties.

So, Rick would have to wait until nightime to look for this "Barthor" guy. Good. Now he had an excuse to do nothing for the rest of the day. Just as he wanted.

And that's exactly what happened. A few minutes later, he payed for his drink and left. The sun was starting to set, but he still had a solid hour at least to wander around. Likewise, the temperature wasn't as soffocating, but he knew that was only the beginning for the deathly cold that accompanied the desert at night. A quick trip back to the car to retrieve his longcoat, and then he proceeded to aimlessly wander around the town, save for a quick stop to eat something at a restaurant.

Back to the bar. There were now more people, even more drunk than earlier. Many small lamps decorated the tent, giving it a slim orange tint to everything, but still bright enough to see clearly. Rick glanced at the counter, where the bartender was whispering something to a big guy sitting there, both eyeing him.

Rick sat near the big guy. He smelled of alcohol.

"So you're the guy looking for me! Man I knew I was famous, but for a foreigner to seek my help?", the man laughted.

"You should thank the bartender for your seeming fame then", Rick said.

"I know I know!". He hitted Rick with a single powerful pat, which would have thrown his whole body to the counter if it weren't for his arms countering the force. His shades almost fell from his face.

"Anyways...", Rick accomodated his shades back on place. "I'm looking for this guy." He showed him the photo.

"Ah yes! That old crazy Damas elf! Very grumpy, but I did convince him to take a drink with me before leaving! The guy wants to re-build his original home in the middle of the desert, which is crazy, but his courage is admirable! For a prime it'll be a piece of cake, but a secondary? I hope the raiders didn't kill him already."

"So here's not here in Nippur?"

"No. But anyways, want something to drink? It's on me." And before Rick could answer, he continued. "Hey, Garrs! Two beers here!"

"Back to the original topic," Rick said. "Do you know which direction he went?"

"Damas? I think it was east, but don't count on me. He said there would be a sandstorm before leaving, and you know what? He was right! The absolute madman! If you see him, tell him I think that was impressive!"

"It sure is."

"Anyways, what was your name?"

"Rick."

"Barthor here! But I'm sure my friend Garrs already introduced me," he glanced at the bartender "Am I right?!"

The bartender did a thumbs up to Barthor, before bringing the two beers to them.

They continued chatting, mostly about Rick's life, then followed by Barthor's own adventures. He was very pushy about Rick's personal life, but nowhere close to being mean spirited. Leaving aside a few overly powerful and unwecolme pats on the back, one could say it was a fun night.

When Rick came back to the car, the night was already settled. Ashelin was sitting on his seat, unmoved by the cold air with her exposed clothing. Besides her, another guy, probably of the same kind as her, was on the passenger's seat.

"What took you so long?!", she said, with a defying tone.

"That's how much time I needed to find a lead", Rick answered.

"Do you know where Damas is?" The other guy said. He looked surprised.

Rick leaned to the car, resting his elbow on it. "Some guy seemed to know him. He told me he headed east"

"Good. Let's go." Ashelin said.