The Rak'heer

On a dark windy night, high up in the skies, the Airship Rak'heer was traveling across the sands of Abu Kareya.
The vessel was packed full of passengers. Traders, Travellers and alike. But deep in the holds of the ship were some passengers that could not afford the luxuries of the upper decks.
Stowed away among the cargo were refugees from all kinds of places that sold their last belongings to leave behind all they knew and try to find a place for a new start.
Among them, in a dark corner of the hold, sitting on a crate, leaning onto the airships hull, sat Buran Grotok. Next to him on the crate, in a woven basked, was his reason for the journey.
Wrapped in cloth and leather resting under his watchful eyes, sat his delicate cargo.

A druid's tale

He was a druid, had traveled far and wide, using his talents and magic to help and heal people in need. Among one of his charges was an injured Aarakocra child he found during his journey. After tending to it's wounds the child invited him back to his tribe as thanks, his grandfather, and elder of the tribe, would reward him for the deed.
After meeting the Elders and refusing material rewards, for "just doing the right thing" as he put it, he became one of the few trusted outsiders who frequented their mountains and interacted with the tribespeople.
Over a century he watched over the tribe, helping out with medicine and healing whenever he came to visit. Seeing to their hatchlings and watching them grow up.

At one point he grew rather fond of one, that was interested in learning about herbs and medicines, so he became her mentor and teacher while she grew up. Even though he had never been a mentor, her talent and eagerness to learn made it an easy and enjoyable experience.
Years passed, and after watching her grow up, having taught all he could, he went back to traveling the world.

Time passed and as he knew the village was in good hands he did not frequent it for many years. Until he was apporached by a distressed Aarakocra scout with dire news: A plea for help from his former student.
The village was pleagued by an illness and she was at the end of her wisdom. Buran made haste and traveled to the village.

The tribespeople were slowly wasting away, no medicine she had tried worked, and even he could not help with his druidic spells and knowledge.
They came to the conclusion that something in that place had changed that made them ill.
The older Aarakocra were the least affected and stayed mostly healthy with minor symptoms, while the younger were hit way harder.
For most of the children the illness meant certain death. That fact, coupled with a drastic decrease in fertility in the adults, spelt doom.

The Tribe was dying out.

So came the moment where his former Student asked him for the favor that started his journey.
In his years away she had found a mate, and in her nest sat a sheltered, healthy, pristine snow-white egg.

Out of desperation she asked him to take it with him, and get it as far away from this place as he could, so at least her child would be safe.
She would not dare take the egg away herself, in fear of bringing the disease with her, but she was sure due to the difference in race, and his druidic resilence, giving the egg to Buran was the best chance it had.

Since he had tried everything to help without result, and feeling defeated by this situation, he accepted her wish. They packaged the egg as safely as possible and he went on his way.

From the time he left the Mountains, till sitting in the dark corner of an Airship he had done his best to protect the egg, and his promise.

Nightly rides

He knew the egg would be ready to hatch soon, hopefully not until the end of the ride.

Some time passed, and the wind had picked up.
Buran inspected his cargo for any changes before wrapping it back up in the cocoon of fabric that kept it safe all journey, when a thunderous boom reverbrated through the ship.

He immediatly realized by the lightning flashing through the cracks of the hull, that the thunder was right above the ship.
Within minutes the sky was ablaze with lightning and thunder roaring on the winds.
It did not take long for a lightningstrike to hit the vessels bow, adding splintering wood and flames to the horrid soundscape.

The Rak'heer would not be spared with just that one. Soon after the first, multiple more lightningbolts struck the ship.
Panicked screams mixed in with the terrifying roars of thunder, as the ride got rougher by the second, and everyone on board felt the ship decending faster and faster.

Buran held on to his ward, using his druidic magic to protect the egg and himself as much as he could.
The ship went down, thankfully not straight up falling but in an uncontrollable decent.

When it hit the sands large chuncks of the hull shattered with shards flying everywhere.
The storm was still going strong, with the lightning blasting the desert sands, and still hitting parts of the ship.
Visibility was non existent. While it had been windy in the sky, it was a full on Sandstorm on the ground, that even choked out all the fires, the lightning attempted to ignite.

Witch a quick spell he managed to produce a small shelter from solid rock, where he sought cover, leading the a few survivors, he could make out through the hellish dust, inside.
After some of the people used their coats and cloaks to block the entrance, so the sand stopped rushing in the tension subsided a little.
The storm was still raging unrelentlessly outside, but the few survivors inside felt safe enough inside this rocky shell.

The druid slowly unwrapped the patches and linings from his precious bundle, to check for any damage on the egg.
It wasn't cracked, but he was not happy to see bluish streaks on the shell that emitted a subtle glow.
He got even more concerned when there was a slight crackle and tiny arcs of lightning ran across the surface,
something in that storm had done something to the egg he could not explain.
When the egg suddenly got a crack he froze in shock, but then the first part of the shell fell into the sand, and the opening revealed a tiny hatchling pecking away from the inside.

When he realized the chick was alright and his panic subsided. As he calmed down he realized the silence. All the noise from the storm was gone, the only noise left was the little beak pecking on the eggs walls.
He took a small pebble he had in his pocket, cast a spell, and the pebble illuminated the space.

There were 4 others, who lived through the crash and weathered the Storm in this little abode.
Some had minor injuries from the crash which the druid skillfully took care of.
That being done he turned to his new little friend, giving it some berries to eat and making sure it sat comfortably in the little clothbundle that had protected the egg.

Since the sands had settled outside they dug themselves out and took a look around. The sky had completely cleared up and the moonlight lit up the dunes around them.
Little was left of the once enormous airship. Only scraps peaking out of the sand, and not a single body to be found.
They went back inside their shelter and everyone layed down to rest for the remainder of the night.

When the first rays of light made their way inside Buran got up, checked on the little birdling and took another look at their sleeping companions.
The survivors were a halfling couple, a Minotaur and a slender Tabaxi. A slight chuckle escaped him thinking about the colorful assortment of people that found themselves in this situation,
especially with himself being a fully grown Loxodon and the Aarakocra hatchling in his care.

The group spent the scorching heat of the day in the little hut. Getting to know each other, trying to figure out next steps and getting a grip on the situation.
As soon as the burning sun left the horizon they went on their way.
Having a well traveled druid with them increased their chances exponentially. They got by well enough with food and water.
They didn't make quick time, but kept a steady pace.

The Nomad Tribe of Aghu Balur

Luck was on their side, when they met Rhab Ag'dir , a Scout from the Aghu Balur tribe. Unlike many other Tribes in the desert, that would undoubtedly have robbed them of their last belongings, his tribe was of a more friendly and helpful nature, to those that find themselves lost between the dunes.

He led the Group to their current camp, where they met the tribes leaders and told their tale. The leaders allowed them to tag along, till they came across the next village they could stay at.
They traveled with the wandering tribe for a few weeks, gaining valuable knowlege to survive in this vast arid ocean of sand.

The next village they found had been built around a body of water around 50 meters across at its largest span, but vastly deep and fed from underground wells.
This seemingly endless supply of fresh water caused the lake to be surrounded with lush vegetation, and served as a sufficient supply to sustain the village with ease.
The Villagers, a colorful ensemble of all kinds of people, were welcoming excited to meet people from beyond the dunes.

After saying their goodbyes to the nomads, that had saved them from the scorching desert.
The groups willingnes to earn their keep and the diverse nature of the village itself had made it easy for everyone to fit in.

Buran's druidic talents and wisdom made him a valuable addition to the villagers, who did not have much experience at treating the ill and wounded.
Due to the location of the village, visitors were few and far inbetween, which was inherently a good thing.
Most people stumbling upon were either the nomads that knew it existed, or people stranded in the desert, undesirables like raiders and bandits rarely stumbled upon this place.

Life was peaceful and safe. The druid counted himself lucky to have survived the crash, and the desert, to arrive at a save haven to raise the child.

A home for a bird

As time passed and the little bird grew up, Buran was relieved to see that he was not afflicted from the illness of his people.
The kid did however manifest an affinity to the winds and storms that frequented the area, and as he grew up, a certain influence over them.

The druid realized, the storm had left a mark on the boy.
He taught him ways to harness his talents safely and to not cause inadvertent harm.

As the bird-boy grew into a bird-man Buran felt a certain sadness.
He was happy about him growing up healthy without the plagues that ravaged his tribe, but an Aarakocra should not be confined to a village in the desert, he should soar freely through the skies.

Buran himself had been a traveler all his life, and felt the urge venture forth as well, he knew however he would just slow him down, so the insistence was strong for the boy to find his own path.

He had many talks with him about this topic and finally managed to convince the chick to leave the nest,
with the promise to sometime in the future meet again, and tell the tales of his travels to the old Loxodon Druid, Buran Grotok.

So came the day, where the boy Scirocco, named after the desert winds, took to the skies, soaring to new adventures of his own.