The battle was far from over

Day 3 of training -

Training roll 1 - 44 / req 65 - fail

Training roll 2 - 9 / fail

Luck roll - 55 / nothing happens

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Day 4 - Today (22 days till Aang gets out of ice)

Started Quest - Dessert hunter 

Objective - Kill dessert creatures

Chosen target - Buzzard wasp nest (locked due to previous events and availability) 

(There are 3 areas of the nest - Outer, Inner, Core)

(Strength and number of opponents will raise accordingly. Potential rewards (bond / trait points) dependent on the area reached (first and foremost) and number of wasps killed (secondary)

This is a test of skill, not simple butchering, as many strategies are available for simply killing every wasp.

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The buzzard wasp hive jutted out of the desert's horizon like a malformed blister. It was impossible to mistake it for anything natural—its surface riddled with irregular cavities, as though the desert itself had rejected this intrusion. The golden sands seemed to bend away from it, forming uneven dunes that stopped short of its base, as if wary of getting too close.

The air reeked of a sour musk that grew thicker with each step, clinging to the back of Sal's throat like rancid oil. Overhead, the sun was merciless, a blazing orb that turned the world into a furnace. Its light caught the hive's shadows, stretching them into grotesque, unnatural shapes across the shimmering dunes.

Sal pressed forward, his steps careful, each one leaving a muted tremor in the shifting sands. He moved like a hunter—not rushing, not hesitating. Every stride was measured, his posture loose but balanced, as if the desert might suddenly shift against him.

Through his eyes, you saw the hive swell closer, the jagged openings on its surface yawning wider. 

It had been two days since the campsite's ruins, and in that time, Sal had been relentless. His training bordered on reckless: bending stones until they cracked apart mid-air, testing the limits of his body against his own creations. Yesterday, when a sandstone boulder he launched ricocheted dangerously close to his leg, he'd shrugged it off with a muttered, "Trial and error."

You hadn't needed to say much to convince him that sparring against a real enemy would be more effective. The fact that the hive housed the same creatures that had attacked him before only sweetened the deal.

 A challenge—and a grudge.

As he neared the hive's shadow, the air shifted. The faint hum of wings buzzed against the wind, distant at first but growing. Dark shapes began to stir within the hive's holes, their movements sharp and unnatural. A dozen buzzard wasps poured out, their sleek black bodies catching the sunlight like polished stone.

Each was the size of a hound, their wings beating with a mechanical precision that filled the air with a sharp, grating drone. They swarmed out in loose spirals, their movements quick and jagged, as though they were deciding whether Sal was prey or predator.

Sal halted. His feet dug slightly into the sand, his shoulders rolling back as his arm hung at his side, deceptively relaxed. A small pile of compressed sandstone rose beside him, circling lazily in the air at a flick of his fingers.

The wasps moved first, diving toward him in erratic bursts. Their wings beat faster, the drone becoming a sharp whine that rattled the air.

 Sal exhaled slowly, his hand twitching—and the first stone shot forward, striking one wasp mid-flight. The crack was sharp, and its broken body crumpled into the sand.

Another stone followed, then another, precise and unrelenting. Each strike found its mark, the impacts cracking through the air like distant thunder. In moments, three wasps lay motionless.

(Sal roll - 3 + 50 = 53 (power dif + low wasp number)

 But one darted sideways, avoiding the stones with unnerving precision. Its movements were sharper, its dives calculated. It didn't attack head-on but circled him, testing his reactions.

Sal's eyes tracked its flight, his jaw tightening. "Smart," he muttered, his fingers twitching.

The wasp darted low, feinting a charge. Sal stepped back, another stone flicking through the air—but it was a decoy.

(Wasps roll - 77)

The creature swerved upward in an instant, driving its stinger toward his torso. Sal brought his stump up instinctively, the blunt surface intercepting the strike. Pain exploded in his shoulder, hot and sharp, as venom laced through the wound.

(Sal Health - 37/40) 

(Qi - 49/50)

His teeth clenched, a grimace flashing across his face. But his eyes stayed focused. The sand beneath the wasp shifted suddenly, curling into a whip that lashed upward.

"Not today," Sal growled.

The sand snapped around the wasp's midsection, dragging it down even as it thrashed wildly. Its barbed legs clawed at the air, its wings buzzing in desperation—but the sand held firm, burying it within seconds. The ground smoothed over, leaving no trace.

Sal flexed his shoulder, testing the venom's spread. The pain was there, sharp and insistent, but it wasn't enough to slow him. He turned his gaze to the hive, where more shadows began to move, their numbers growing. The hum rose in pitch, a low, oppressive drone that seemed to vibrate through the air itself.

You broke the silence, your voice dry as the sand itself . "This is off to a great start."

Sal smirked faintly, his fingers flexing as the sand around him began to shift again. "Didn't expect it to be easy."

The wasps swarmed now, a mass of black and gold streaking toward him. Sal moved, his arms cutting through the air in fluid, practiced motions. The ground exploded upward, a wall of sand rising to meet the swarm. Several wasps collided with the barrier, their bodies ricocheting off and falling into the dunes.

But the hive wasn't done. More wasps poured out, their movements erratic and relentless. Sal's stance shifted again, his feet digging deeper into the sand. The grains swirled at his command, forming sharp, angular patterns as they awaited his next move.

The battle was far from over.

(Outer nest Wasps - 36/40)

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Decide when to tell Sal to retreat. How much are you willing to risk this host?