[Elan]

Elan grabbed the waterskin, not even bothering to wipe the gnome's spittle from the mouthpiece. The liquid was warm, but flowed like honey down his throat. When the last drop of water had left the skin, Elan dropped to the sands with a sigh.

"Apologies for the waterskin," the elf said, looking up at Horo. "I am Elan. It is good to meet friendly faces, especially out here." And especially if they have water. He nodded at QM, the dorin who'd forgotten his birthname. If he was Horo, he'd be leery of a quartermaster who didn't remember his own name. But he kept his mouth shut. These people had offered him their water, and Elan was an elf who minded his courtesies.

Two others had joined the small group while he'd been drinking, a pair stranger than even the elderly Horo and the forgetful QM. One was a Saurid, hulking and scaled like the one he'd seen in Medonia. Perhaps they were even relatives. Elan didn't know, and frankly he didn't care. The other, an elf, stood half naked and barefoot. He looked to be Syl'rosyan as well, yet where Elan sweated and panted, this one stood and smiled as though the heat didn't bother him one whit.

Elan looked away, gritting his teeth. It didn't seem quite fair that the gods had graced one elf with the composure and of all elvenkind, yet denied another the same favours. Though tired, the elf climbed to his feet. It simply would not do to look the fool in front of another elf. "Yes...where are you headed?" the elf asked Horo, looking beyond him at the assortment of wagons.