The Burden of a Prophet
The Lesandre tribe. A nomadic village with a wise Elder. Perhaps having the most eclectic population of all the tribes. Often seeking peaceful resolutions to land wars rather than wasting life, the tribe was often described as being odd. Often times their trek through the sweltering desert would shift dramatically and without warning. These sudden changes would most unusually bring the tribe among a lone person dying in the heat. When this would happen Elder would come to the individual’s side and peer into their eyes. Usually the elder would sigh, and signal for the tribe to continue moving, leaving the person behind for the border guards to take care of.
“Water is scarce,” Elder would say, “Water is sacred. The desert is harsh. The most humane thing we can do is put these poor souls to rest.”
There were three times however when this did not happen;
The first, when the tribe came upon a young child hiding in an overturned wagon. Elder had a hint of a smile on that day. He signaled the tribe that day to stop and make camp. That night there was a celebration as the tribe had received the gift of a new member. Elder named this child Rabbit.
The second, when the tribe came upon a circle of blackened glass, with a man lying unconscious in the center of it. Fearing the man dead, Elder ran to this man’s side and poured a small amount of water on the man’s head waking him instantly. Elder called for camp to be made, and that night Elder and had a long conversation. The following morning the tribe continued on with one more member but no fan-fare.
Finally, they came upon a rogue halfling, whom Elder greeted with a smile, open arms, and a skin of water. Revealing her name as she never quite felt at ease in the tribe, but Elder always tried his hardest to assure that she belonged.
After this final discovery, the travel habits of the tribe became normal once again.