by Carl van Ostrand
In the early morning, Helios tracked signs of an oasis to the Northwest. I had no choice but to part with the company of the golem herd. But something unusual happened. Upon raising both arms as a sign of farewell, Fist held one arm across his chest to disagree. He then opened his hand, and held his palm up, leaning towards me. I believe this meant he wanted to help me. Honored, I overlaid my forearms to accept his offer. As the second moon arrives, my body rests propped against my new companion.
Several miles from the oasis, I am certain that I just saw a Re-Gen bot on the horizon. These bots do not travel far from their groups.
My worries were confirmed by the many bot tracks surrounding the oasis we reached. I am not sure what they needed the water for unless they are traveling with cyborgs. I noticed one of the footprints had the number “9” printed on the bottom. I have heard stories about a cyborg gladiator called Version 9, who is in contention for the Solop Avagar title this year. But why would he be out here in the desert?
We camp in the oasis tonight. Fist has found a small marble deposit and used it to form plated ridges over his knuckles and a marble tip on his spike. I would not want to be on the receiving end of his next punch. He stands guard for us in the shadows.
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