In the desert capital, night swallowed the scorching dunes. The extreme daytime heat vanished entirely, replaced by a biting chill that swept across the sprawling sandstone courtyards.
Fortunately, the native gods had routed deep subterranean springs directly through the palace architecture. Clear water flowed rapidly through carved aqueducts, filling the massive stone basins in the center of the Vanguard encampment.
Krax sat on a wide limestone bench. He dunked his entire head into the freezing water. He surfaced a moment later, shaking the droplets from his green face with a loud exhale. The massive general grabbed a woven cloth to dry his tusks.
"That washes the dust out," Krax muttered. He set the cloth aside and pulled his greataxe across his lap. He grabbed a whetstone to carefully grind the nicks out of the enormous curved blade. The embedded violet Ley-Crystal pulsed with a bright glow near the hilt.
