The Oasis Ambush
As the hijacked scorpion crested a massive dune, George's eyes caught a shimmer of impossible blue against the repetitive gold. It was a small, spring-fed oasis, a miracle of water nestled between the dunes. George and his friends scrambled off their mount before it had even fully come to a halt.
"Thank the heavens," George cried, collapsing by the water's edge. He dipped his cupped hands into the pool, the cool liquid providing instant, life-giving relief to his parched throat.
The others joined him, the tension of the desert heat finally beginning to break.
The Basilisk Scorpion, no longer under Arthur's forceful guidance, clicked its mandibles once and burrowed deep beneath the sand, seeking the cool dampness of the underground.
"Well, there goes our ride," Arthur joked, wiping droplets of water from his chin. Though his clothes were tattered, a bit of his regal humor had returned with the hydration.
"We'll set up camp here tonight," Flynn said, his eyes scanning the horizon even as he drank. "The dunes provide cover, and we're all at our limit. I'll take the first watch."
As the group drifted into a heavy sleep, the moonlight spilled down over the dunes, casting long, dramatic shadows that looked like a silhouette from a grand chandelier. The peace, however, was a thin veil. Hours into the night, Flynn's keen senses caught a rhythmic skittering. He sat bolt upright to a terrifying sight: Sand Goblins, their skin the color of parched earth, were riding atop horrifying Giant Camel Spiders.
The spiders' hairy, multi-jointed legs moved with silent efficiency across the sand. Without a word of warning, the cunning Goblins let fly a volley of arrows. Flynn ducked instinctively as an arrow whistled past, burying itself deep into a jagged rock formation near his head.
"Wake up! Wake up! We're under attack!" Flynn roared.
George, Siri, and Arthur scrambled to their feet, shedding the fog of sleep to take their defensive stances. The Goblins circled the oasis, their hypnotic, rhythmic chanting filling the air as they readied a second volley. Siri, seeing the archers aiming their notched bows, raised her hands. Her reddish-purple eyes glowed with a fierce brilliance.
"Close your eyes!" she yelled, launching a concentrated orb of aura into the center of the goblin pack.
The light bomb exploded mid-air with the intensity of a dying star. George and his friends looked down, shielding their eyes, while the Goblins and their mounts shrieked in pain, momentarily blinded by the flash.
"Now!" Siri commanded.
George and Flynn acted in perfect synchronicity, launching a coordinated blast of wind that swept through the dunes like a scythe. Amidst the confusion, Arthur moved like a shadow. He sprinted into the fray, his silver blade a blur of gold-hilted steel as he swiped and slashed, felling three Goblins before they could even regain their sight. George focused his aura, tracking a Camel Spider that was trying to regroup. "Wind Bomb!" he shouted, hurling the swirling sphere. The impact sent the massive spider crashing into another mount, knocking the Goblin rider into the path of his own beast, which accidentally stomped him into the sand.
The group fought with a desperate poise, their movements refined by the trials of the previous days. Seeing their ranks thinned and their advantage lost, the remaining Goblins turned their spiders and fled into the dark dunes.
As the skirmish ended, the group cautiously investigated the bodies of the fallen. They moved with a grim efficiency, collecting any items, food, or trinkets that could aid their survival. George sat by the water for a moment, his chest heaving. Each skirmish was becoming more than just a fight; it was a test of their resolve—a delicate dance between survival and extinction.
"Look at this," Siri said, holding up a small, shimmering vial she had found tucked into a goblin's sash. "An elixir. This could be useful if one of us falls ill."
Flynn picked up a sturdy composite bow and slung a quiver of black-fletched arrows over his shoulder. "We should get going," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Goblins are pack hunters. They'll probably be back with reinforcements before dawn."
They packed their meager belongings in silence and moved out, leaving the oasis behind as they continued their journey through the shifting dunes, guided only by the stars and the steady pulse of the tele-stone.