The sandstorm hit the caravan faster than any of you could have believed. One minute you were preparing the animals for the evening, and the next the wind was picking up and a mile-high wall of darkness was advancing toward you from the southeast.
The caravan master Elloit called out a sharp warning, directing everyone to secure the animals and goods for a storm just as you had practiced weeks ago. Guards and muleteers sprang into action, securing the supplies and trade goods under weighted tarps, while others gathered the horses and camels who were already braying in alarm, leading them to a small rock overhang near the oasis where they would find the best shelter.
The wind picked up quickly, and you began to feel the sand batter your faces and other exposed skin. Evening turned to night as the sand and dust obscured vision. Once you had performed your preassigned duties, some of you headed toward the nearest shelter: a small tent set up on the leeward side of one of the camels under the rock overhang, while others tried to accomplish one last thing.
Tollo emits a constant stream of muffled profanity through the cloth covering his mouth and nose.
"There's always something. If it's not goblins, it's spitting and kicking camels. If it's not camels it's the whole damn desert deciding to fly at us...", he thinks as he makes his way toward where the trade goods are secured. He just has to check on them- there's no way he's letting a sandstorm render the whole trip pointless by blowing away the goods.
Tollo becomes momentarily disoriented by the blowing sand and dust, and finds himself walking in the wrong direction, away from the camp. After seeing one of the trees of the oasis (which lies in the opposite direction from where he wanted to go), he turns around and eventually finds his way to where the trade goods have been stashed. Quickly checking the ropes and anchors, everything seems to be as secured as possible as far as he can tell.
Timbur peers through the sandstorm, trying in vain to see that everybody is safe and secure. He spots Tollo heading out into the sand and tries to follow him, calling his name loudly, though futilely over the noise of the wind, but he loses sight of him momentarily.
When Tollo makes his way back, he shouts, "A little guy like you might blow away!" and grabs him by the collar just in case.
Horek squints his eyes against the blowing sands, protecting his mouth with his large, muscled forearm as he immediately tends to the animals, then checks their food and water supplies before making certain that the other caravaneers and guards are safely sheltered. He lastly checks that the tents are secured before climbing into the tent himself. The half-orc is strong and is better able to take damage than others, and so takes it upon himself to make certain that their most important resources are safe, but he knows that he shouldn't take too long to get out of the potentially deadly sandstorm.
Survival Skill: Survive in the Wilderness - You can keep yourself and others safe and fed in the wild.
1)make sure the animals are secured and sheltered as best they can be vs DC 15; ;
2)check that their food and water is likewise secure vs DC 15; ;
3)ascertain that the others are safe vs DC 15; ;
4)make sure the tents are secure vs DC 15; ;
Timbur peers through the sandstorm, trying in vain to see that everybody is safe and secure. He spots Tollo heading out into the sand and tries to follow him, calling his name loudly, though futilely over the noise of the wind, but he loses sight of him momentarily.
When Tollo makes his way back, he shouts, "A little guy like you might blow away!" and grabs him by the collar just in case.
[dice=Damage]1d3
[dice=Perception]1d20+6
Tollo struggles in Timbur's grip.
"Lemme go, you oaf! We have to protect the profits!"
"Uhhhh, okay," Timbur says, letting him go. He adds, "But if you blow away, you won't get any profits."
He ducks into the tent and makes sure Loges is safely tucked away inside.
Dot
"DON'T PATRONIZE ME!! THIS AIN'T MY FIRST SANDSTORM!", Tollo shouts above the sandstorm as Timbur leaves, even though it is his first sandstorm. He proceeds to check on the water and food supplies purely out of spite.
After being pummeled by the sandstorm this time, Tollo will duck into the tent after the supplies are secured to his satisfaction and start stress-smoking his pipe.
Loges hurries into shelter to make certain his spellbook stays secure...
"Patronize? I'm not going to do that. Master Elliot is paying all of us."
Horek squints his eyes against the blowing sands, protecting his mouth with his large, muscled forearm as he immediately tends to the animals, then checks their food and water supplies before making certain that the other caravaneers and guards are safely sheltered. He lastly checks that the tents are secured before climbing into the tent himself. The half-orc is strong and is better able to take damage than others, and so takes it upon himself to make certain that their most important resources are safe, but he knows that he shouldn't take too long to get out of the potentially deadly sandstorm.
Horek checks on the animals first, and is satisfied that their leads are securely fastened. On the way to check on the other caravaners (), however, he gets turned around, and ends up running around in circles for a bit, sand and small rocks painfully pelting his armor and clothes. He gives up the search when he sees the edge of the rock under which his tent is located, and reties a number of its guy ropes that have gotten loose.
Tollo clusters the boxes and barrels holding the food and water rations more closely together, and finds another piece of rope to tie them to each other. The storm has picked up quite a bit by now, and he hurries back to the tent. A gust catches him unprepared as he ducks down to open the tent flap, lifting him bodily off the ground and carrying him a few feet with the storm ( ). He miraculously spins around in mid-air and lands on one knee, gripping the loose ground with both hands. Without wasting any more time, he quickly crawls on all fours back into the tent.
Loges takes a candle out of his pack. The wizard then speaks a quick arcane word, causing light to appear from the candle. He then sticks it out of the tent opening as a beacon.
Loges takes a candle out of his pack. The wizard then speaks a quick arcane word, causing light to appear from the candle. He then sticks it out of the tent opening as a beacon.
The wizard reaches into his pack again. He pulls forth a scroll. Unrolling it, he reads the incantation.
Staring at an empty space, Loges holds out the candle.
Take this just out side.
Horek hopes the others have already entered the shelter and makes his way inside after the scuttling rogue, dirt and small rocks lodged in his thick hair and beard as he sits heavily down next to the wizard, who appears to be unrolling a scroll of some kind and chanting words. "Are you going to make this storm go away?" The half-orc asks hopefully, though there is a humorous edge to his voice as though he knows that doing so is unlikely.
Drimm hunkers down in the tent, grumbling about the storm and the time they are losing. Not that he has any real time table, but still...the whole thought of losing time is the point.
The young wizard laughs at Horek's request.
I am just graduated from Academy. Besides, I actually focus in the Art of Illusion. Not much help against sandstorms, I'm afraid.
The half-orc grins at the wizard's laughter. It is good that the human feels at ease sitting so close to him. It is not often that Horek has enjoyed this sort of camaraderie. In fact, he briefly wonders if he ever has. Perhaps the sandstorm is a blessing after all. "Well then, it looks like we must wait for it to blow itself out. The tent should hold up, I think. The animals should be fine, too. I didn't have much of a chance to check on the rest before the storm forced me inside." He brushes some of the sand and grit from his hair as he speaks, grimacing at the abrasions on his skin. Nothing that a bit of time won't heal, he figures. He's suffered much worse.
The stout dwarf looks over at the human and half-orc. He looks angry and grumps and snarls as he stomps around.
"By Moradan's hammer...I have sand in places that no one should have sand! Excuse me while I get out of this armor and get this blasted sand out!"
The dwarf then sheds his armor, and sighs as the metal shell comes off, and a rather large amount of sand drops to the ground.
Loges laughs.
Well, we may as well be comfortable. If, I may?
The wizard then speaks a short arcane phrase, waving hus hand over the 1/2 orc.
He repeats it for the dwarf.
Tollo stays put in the tent, chain-smoking.
'At least Drimm's got the decency to be put-off about all this', he thinks to himself.
"Where's the rest of the caravan?"
Five hours pass () while the wind outside howls like a harridan and the sand and rocks pelt the sides of the tent around you. The noise of the storm is so intense that even conversing with one another requires shouting, while falling asleep in this storm is nearly impossible (), and one of you must quickly exit the tent to push off the accumulated sand and retie the guy ropes two to three times and hour to keep it from collapsing ().
Finally the wind begins to die down a bit, although it is clear that the storm is still going on.
Loges winces.
I believe that I hear the baying of an animal in pain.
Tollo dumps out the ashes from his pipe, cleaning out the bowl with his finger.
"Alright. Let's get out there and help the spitting bastard."
Zuberi run around trying to do almost everything at once with varying degrees of success but past a certain point even the large man has to find shelter from the storm. He loses no time trying to get some rest despite all the racket.
Somehow the large swarthy man is able to sleep in the storm his snores barely audible against the din emanating from outside but once he is settled into his slumber seems quite content.
Loges begins to study his spellbook.
Timbur will go with the others to check on the animals. He stays close to Tollo, but doesn't actually hold onto him.
Horek grins at Loges when the wizard uses his magic to clean the sand and rocks from his hair. "Good trick!" He beams at the man. He talks for a bit, if Loges seems interested in doing so.
When the tent threatens to collapse, Horek wastes no time heading out to make sure their shelter doesn't come apart.
Horek shakes Zuberi awake. "The others hear the animals making noise. Might be they're hurt. Or could be trouble. Come." He gestures, then heads out into the dying storm after the others.
"Ahhh..thats the spot! Thanks lad! I was going mad with that chaffing. "
As the storm begins to abate, Drimm puts on his armor and goes out to help the others.
Zuberi gets up without complaint, dons his armour and gets his gear in order. He grabs a loose piece of cloth to wrap around the lower half of his facing, keeping it tight. His idea is to avoid sand getting into his mouth if he opens it outside. If Drimm is still putting on his armor he will help the dwarf. "Let's hope they are being jumpy!"
The large man moves forward to follow the others with his greatsword drawn, ready for trouble.
Loges looks engrossed in his spellbook, but does wink at the 1/2 orc and dwarf.
Everyone besides Loges exit the tent and are immediately met with a blast of ice-cold, flying sand in the face. Even though the storm has died down, it is still night outside and the blowing sand obscures all vision past 10 feet. The wizard's spell casts a feeble glow that barely illuminates your immediate area, seemingly casting more shadows than anything else.
After getting your bearings, you head in the direction of the animal sound Trollo heard. Walking about 30 feet, you come across a grizzly sight: the horses and camels have obviously been attacked, and are lying on the ground bleeding from large gashes to their necks. All seem to be dead, except for one prone camel that is calling out in pain.
From where you are standing you can see no obvious threat. Because of the blowing sand, you also don't see any of the other tents of the caravan, which should still be nearby.
"I don't think the sand did this," Timbur says sagely. He straps on his shield and draws his sword.
Horek grunts in agreement with Timbur, drawing his huge sword as well. "This is what we are being paid for. Something attacked these animals." He glances at the slight warrior with the sword and shield, having noticed Timbur's bodyguard-like status with regard to the wizard. "You should get Aramil, none of us should be alone if there is something out here with us. The rest of us should check on the others of the caravan. We will go slowly, and wait for you to catch up before we go too far."
The half-orc takes a moment to scan the surrounding area with his darkvision, looking for signs of ambush, then heads in the direction of where the other tents of the caravan should have been.
Horek scans the area, but despite his ability to see in the dark, cannot see anything beyond the maelstrom swirling all around him. He has a general idea of what direction the other tents should be in, however ...
Peering into the areas where light turns into shadow and then darkness Zuberi keeps his guard up and his greatsword at the ready. He adjusts his pack. He'd never been caught in such a bad sand storm before. "That makes it no less miserable. I'm just worried any minute we'll be up to our eyes in Gnolls."
Zuberi scans the edge of his vision, but it reveals nothing but the swirling sands.
Timbur heads back towards their tent.
Assuming he makes it and Loges is still preparing his spell, Timbur says, "Something killed the animals. Zuberi thinks it was short gnolls," he adds, holding his hand flat at eye level.
Loges grins at Timbur; grateful to have him here if danger is afoot!
Timbur heads back towards their tent.
Assuming he makes it ...
The camel continues to groan in obvious pain as its life blood flows from the deep cut on its throat.
Tollo calls back at the tent.
"HEY! DRIMM! FIX THE CAMEL WITH YOUR HEALING POWERS!"
He looks around for any footprints or signs of passage.
"Freakin lousy sand...."
If nobody can do anything to assist the dying camel, then Horek quickly ends its life with his sword. He will wait until Drimm arrives though, before making the tough call. Then he leads the way through the storm toward the other caravan tents - or where they're supposed to be, at any rate.
If nobody can do anything to assist the dying camel, then Horek quickly ends its life with his sword. He will wait until Drimm arrives though, before making the tough call.
Tollo calls back at the tent.
"HEY! DRIMM! FIX THE CAMEL WITH YOUR HEALING POWERS!"He looks around for any footprints or signs of passage.
"Freakin lousy sand...."
Tollo looks about, but the storm seems to have blown away any evidence of what happened here.