If it bleeds, we can grill it - Part One

Oh that Ruby. She came practically begging and pleading for the help of a good Ranger. In her mushmouth way, stressing about things worse than Elkasaurus' and people with grey harpoons. Something that she promises is a threat just waiting to happen. It's not in Arden or Amber yet, but left unchecked, it could cause a future headache. Truth!
Ruby purports to be less than awesome at things involving tracking or hunting. Anything involving the outdoors and animals, if they've a molecule of instinct, her aura winds up spooking them or driving them off. The equivalent of a bright pink van with radar dishes on top parked next to a stake out. What she /could/ do though, through dubious information, was know when something was going to be spiraling closer to the prime realms. Orbiting and rampaging through shadow in an ever tightening circle. And so to shadow she goes, dragging Moxon along with promises of 'owing' and free passage on her ship if he ever needs to Range across the ocean.
This place could be Ghenesh or Arden, with some Mrs. Dash Oregano Cibola. It's a little alien in how the air smells, but the oxygen is invigorating. Rich. A dusty plain with tall grass thick enough to lose a badger in, and copse's of trees where smart folk might avoid the orange sun that beats down relentless. "I be sure...I be sure they'll come through 'ere. 'Orrible things. 'Orrible. An oasis of sorts is nearby. This really is close to a savannah if the heat is any indication. But the vegetation isn't suffering. One might have a sense of rich loam or earth below the surface. Moist.

( Read More )