Bad Luck in the Desert

Two moons shine in the starry sky, one of them at the highest point, making it clear that it is midnight.

The silence seems deadly at this time as there isn't even a slight breeze of wind everywhere.

But there is smoke rising between the dunes, a small camp with a few common tents and two wagons equipped with big cages.

In the center of the camp, there is a group of people around a campfire, all humans in leather armor and black cloaks.

"Any progress, Dairin??" The tallest man in front of the fire calls out to a woman walking around the camp.

The woman walks with a round object full of pointers in her hand, a magic compass.

She points the compass in various directions as she circles the camp, but the pointers barely turn no matter what she does.

"This piece of shit is broken!" Dairin goes back to the campfire and throws the compass to the ground.

"Damn!" One of the other men in leather armor looks at the tallest man, the group's leader. "What are we going to do now, Keld??