"Bloody sick of this place," Bellangere sat on the edge of an abandoned caravan. Having removed one of his boots, he tilted it upside down and frowned at seeing the amount of sand actually pour out of it.
Everard looked skyward and sighed as he raised a water canteen to his lips, drinking deeply. "Can't imagine what it must have been like to be stationed here," he said afterward, shaking his head as his gaze fell to appraise their general surroundings.
Senior Warden Bellangere put his boot back on and hopped to the ground. "There's a better camp north of here, y'know," he told Everard.
"Hmm?" Everard responded ere Bellangere's words actually registered in his mind. The desert heat made his head feel heavy, "Oh, the camp? Too well-known now, thanks to the Inquisition. We ought to avoid the better known campgrounds as much as possible."
"Great." Bellangere frowned again. The warrior slowly made his way over to one of the quarry's wooden walkways, where the other Senior Warden idly paced. "Soon as sun sets, we're on the move," he told the mage.
Everard nodded. Bellangere would get no argument from him about that. "This quarry gives me the creeps," Everard concurred.