Clear headed

Bought - Thirst resistance lvl 1 (-1 tp)

Normal Merging - Iron Stomach lvl 1 + Thirst Resistance = Who needs Sustenance? Lvl 1 (value 2)

Sal has learned to make do with less, his body adapting to survive on scraps. It's not just resilience; it's a refined efficiency that few possess.

(Effect: The Host's metabolism is optimized, requiring only half the usual amount of food and water to function properly. Value: 2 Trait Points)

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Chosen : Change Sal's target to someone else.

Quest - "Revenge is Sweet" started. Can be abandoned at any time. Rewards proportional to achievements. 

(Quests are basically things the host wants to do or is forced to do by circumstances. If completed you might gain trait points depending on how hard the things you did were, but you can make your own quests, say - "Go to Omashu and become Bumi's apprentice" or something, and maybe gain the same rewards)

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You honestly weighed the idea. There was something alluring about it, a means to test just how far Sal would go, to feed his ambitions. But on balance, the risks loomed too large. An entire Oasis? Too much could go wrong.

You looked at him, saw the hunger in his eyes, the fevered gleam of someone fresh from the dregs of hell, tasting heaven for the first time. If you told him to calm down, he'd resist; you could feel it. Presumed ancient spirit or not, you knew better than to push someone so high-strung, so volatile. His severed hand gave an occasional twitch from the pain, his mind a firestorm of joy, anger, and bloodlust. 

So, you went another route.

"Boy," you said, keeping your voice steady, almost sympathetic, "I can see your ambition…your willingness to go to any length," You let that sit, let him feel the approval, before adding, "But tell me, would you really risk everything here? A place that's just a stepping stone?"

He blinked, a trace of doubt flickering in his eyes. You went on, "Think about it. The ring will grow. You'll be more powerful than anyone out there in time. Why settle for a slip of revenge now, only to risk leaving the real score unsettled — your tribe, that merchant, his mercenaries?"

The words sank in. Sal stood there, a realization sparking across his face. His lips parted, the feverish gleam in his eyes dimming as his breathing slowed. He nodded, almost in awe, and you felt his gratitude pulse toward you, bright and warm.

"Thank you, Mr. Crow," he murmured, voice respectful. "You've…cleared my head."

(Trust +5 / Bond = 25 (T15/C10)

You gave a nod, watching as he turned toward the now-unguarded stable. His steps quickened as he entered, eyes scanning the sleeping ostrich horses until he chose one. 

(Int check / Req 7 / Passed)

He reached for its reins, but the animal shied away, jerking its head up to call out — Sal flicked his hand, a twist of sand muffling its mouth as he switched to a calmer mount.

You couldn't help but notice how his sandbending looked eerily like waterbending; the smoothness with which he shaped and directed it was almost fluid. 

He stroked the ostrich horse's head, the animal leaning into his touch, nuzzling his palm, and there was a look of unexpected warmth in his expression.

With his single hand, he gripped the reins, guiding the mount slowly out of the stable, but as he stepped out into the moonlit night, his luck ran dry. 

Just ahead of him stood another guard, middle-aged, torch in hand, likely here to replace the other one. Sal froze, as did the guard, who stared at him in dawning confusion, his eyes drifting to the missing man's spot before shifting to Sal. 

The sand beneath him began to shift as he took a ready stance, his expression growing sharper as he began to piece things together.

Sal's face contorted for a second, as if he'd swallowed a sour lemon. He glanced down at his missing hand, lips thinning as he weighed his options, realizing that his cloak of darkness was gone.

The guard narrowed his eyes. "What the hell's goin' on here?" he asked, his voice gruff but cautious, glancing warily around.

Sal's mouth curled into a strained grin, but he held his gaze steady. "Look," he said, reaching into his pouch and tossing a handful of coins forward. "I was just leaving. No need for trouble."

(Diplomacy roll - Req 50 / Rolled 60 / Passed)

The guard's eyes flicked down to the coins, his hand flexing before a sly grin spread across his face. "Is that so?" he asked, scratching his chin. "Generous offer. But I'm thinkin' I didn't see you at all tonight… for the whole pouch, perhaps?"

Sal's jaw tightened, but he didn't hesitate. "Deal," he muttered, tossing the pouch to the guard, who snatched it midair with a chuckle.

With a snap of the reins, Sal urged his mount forward, slipping into the cover of night. You watched the Oasis shrink behind him, a dark smudge against the vast, empty sands. The desert night stretched on, cool and still, the stars reflecting in Sal's fevered eyes as he rode, hungry for more.

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-Ask Sal about his tribe?

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-Ask Sal about the Mercenaries? 

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-Ask Sal to find a place to sleep? 

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-Just watch what he does 

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-Something else( Write in comments)

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Remaining trait points - 3