Born without purpose, our friend wanders through the desert
Aimless, brainless, infection ruining his sentient thoughts
Over the years he’s created his own purpose
A purpose void of reason or understanding
To slay the hunchbacked sand demons
Blight of nature, he’s their only reckoner
The last bastion of desert justice

Their viscous red offering have corroded his appendages
He is apathetic to the deconstruction of his physical being
The Red Baptism
Born anew
The Camel Crusher