[Aye, thanks. It will be somethin' that this group has long needed in a pinch.
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"Beggin' your pardon, but what's all this business about a snake cult? And folk in high places? I've sailed seven seas and heard tall tales to fill volumes: mayhap I can shed some light on whatever mystery plagues you... an' if not, then I can add your tale to the ones I carry up in my noggin."
"On an abandoned Sea-Elven isle in the seas near Varisia we discovered a Black Stone where dark rituals and blood sacrifices were performed to call upon the Lord of the Dead, a great serpent some call Apep. These cultists followed the Dark Ones of old. This is where Priest Vale of The Seahawk discovered the dark, ancient Thassilonian relic we brought to Osirion to have destroyed. During our sea voyage here, we crossed paths and defeated a dark Half-Orc priest who swore a legion would be brought forth and they would make high places for their dark gods -- dark gods who were made stronger by blood sacrifices. This legion would come from the south and east. He proclaimed "Death would come for us all"."
"I'll do my best to share what the Blue Lady has granted me," Holystone promises the scarred young warrior.
He listens with interest to Taissa's explanation, eyes widening, and superstitiously touches a wooden amulet that hangs around his neck.
"Hell's bells, you lot don't mess around, do you? Serpent-gods and death and blood sacrifices..." He whistles, low.
In response to Amun-ta, "I am quite certain the old man meant high places in reference to the mountains or some such and was not referring to social or political position."
The bulk of the information regarding what you know about the dark god is related heavily to the lands of the east; specifically the lands of Osirion.
Osirion is a land that is filled with ancient temples to long dead faiths and dark cults.
Varisia is a land that is also filled with ancient gods and dark cults; but they were drowned under the sea long ago.
Magnimar is a city-state that has a giant pyramid from a long-lost age.
Osirion has ancient pyramids.
A dark cult from Osirion has been discovered in Varisia and claims to be looking for evidence of dark gods.
There seems to be a connection between the two lands – what it is, you’re not sure.
Johnny barely spares the company a glance as he hauls them onto the ship.
”I don’t give a gods damn about any of that; right now we’re shoving off and moving fast, savvy?” he says with a growl.
Moving quickly to the helm his crew spreads out and soon they’re moving to get the ship underway. As it slides away from the rocky island you’re able to see walking corpses moving like somnambulists as they stagger on the shore.
Soon the shop has pushed hard into the sea and all sails are let go and the ship moves with speed toward the horizon.
As you sail through the night Johnny eventually glances at you all.
”We made it seem as if we were Imperial – if those basterds set after us they’ll likely figure we’re either stabbing back Cheliax or maybe heading out toward Andoran – but there’s no reason to be hugging the coast and stabbing west along they’re own coastlands. Plus, we’re moving toward the land of Amun-ta’s people, so that’s a good thing,” he adds.
After the ship has sailed for nearly a day or so you notice a large peninsula stabbing from the land. As you round the bend you see that at the base of the peninsula a heavy channel is slicing through the land so that the peninsula is actually an island.
Small ships are moving around the eastern shore near the mainland. There is a small set of docks large enough for about eight or nine fishing boats and possible one or two sailing ships like your own; but it is empty except for one boat. A dhow rests anchored about fifty yards off the shore.
Beyond the docks is a small set of huts and a squat tower about fifty feet in height. The island itself climbs slowly up toward the center and you can see several people down by the shore working near the docks. As your ship moves closer you see a rider move down a stony path to the village. He is lightly armed and armored and moves to the dock, as if he’s waiting for you.
Johnny waves at Ren who had signaled the island with flags. He glances at your company.
”We need to move the ship to the far side of the island so that any folk who may be following from back east don’t see us. We’re going to drop you lads off at the shore with Amun-ta and move the ship to the far side.”
”Amun-ta says that this lot will be sympathetic to her, so all you got to is move up there and make your greetings. Meantime according to our charts there’s a small cove around the west side we’re going to drop anchor in. There’s a fairly large cliff there and little wharf at the base of it and the lass says that there’s a winding stair that leads up the cliff. Sometimes they receive ships on the west side, but it’s rare.”
”Anyhow, that’s where we’ll be. We’ll see you sometime this evening at the main house,” he says to the company as he ushers you to the boat.
Glancing at Jenner he jerks his chin to the newcomer.
”Look lad, why don’t you move ashore with them; I’ll see you on the far side of this place,” he says to him.
As the boat eases itself over the waves Johnny tosses White Fang a bone to chomp on.
”You heading with Taiss or staying with us, pup?” he asks the young warg.
As he watches White Fang wag his little tail, he turns to Snaga.
”How about you? You going with them or staying with us?” he asks.
”I shall go with my chief,” Snaga says.
”Whatever,” Johnny says with a shrug.
”Well, in that case – ya’ll best get going; I’m getting ready to move the ship,” he adds.
As all that wish to move ashore pile into the boat you notice that the fisher-folk have stopped their work and seem to be watching you curiously while the rider remains seated on his horse.
The company in the boat rows slowly to the shore with everyone who is willing to come aboard. As the boat moves forward you see the people glancing at the rider who does nothing but hold position until you’re about thirty feet from him.
Amun-ta looks at the rider and calls out in Osirioni –
”I am Amun-ta; cousin of the lord of these estates. These are my companions – I ask that you accept us and take us to my uncle.”
The rider is wearing a breastplate and a shield is slung over his back. A scimitar is slung at his side and he is holding a light spear in his right hand as he watches you.
”I am Fazeel Khan; welcome Amun-ta; welcome those of you who call her ally,” he says to the company with a nod of his head, speaking in the Common Tongue.
Hack simply nods at the man as he disembarks from the boat. He allows the others to lead the conversation.
Hack simply nods at the man as he disembarks from the boat. He allows the others to lead the conversation.
The man glances at Hack, his face neutral.
"Peace be with you," he says to him.
His head cocks to the side and he watches Hack for a moment.
"You are guest on the lands of my lord, northman - what is your name, please? And who is your lord and what god do you serve?" he says to Hack in a calm voice watching the warrior thoughtfully as the man is the first to disembark from the boat.
As he waits for an answer, his eyes flick to the rest of you.
"You are all allies of Amun-ta, so it is said - then peace be with all of you."
"But I must know your names, your lords and what gods you honor," he says with a firm but courteous voice.
The villagers have gathered but they seem to be watching you all, and do not seem to be threatening, merely curious.
I am called Hack, as a named man of the north. It is true that I am an ally of Amun-ta, but I honor no gods. I also serve no man, but I am a guardian of Beacon in Varisia by my word and bond, as are a select group of my friends.
The rider’s eyes narrow as he look at Hack for some reason, and he shifts his position in the saddle a bit, his spear loose in his hand.
It is likely that in a land where priests are akin to an almost noble lord and are given rank and status that a man who does not honor the gods would probably not be well received.
However, being that you have no name and no lineage and are likely nothing but a sell-sword he will not press the issue at this time.
However it’s clear that he will be watching you.
After all, a sell-sword is only as loyal and honorable as their paycheck; if someone can pay more, then the loyalty is often sundered.
Mercenaries are not trusted. No matter what the personal reputation of the man may be, a person who works for money alone is someone who might switch sides in battle if the opposing lord is prepared to offer more coin.
It’s nothing personal regarding Hack, but here the people look to see if a man will follow something greater than themselves. A chieftain, a noble house, a deity, a cause; anything of great worth that drives a man beyond personal profit or glory… once a man declares his loyalty to a cause or ideal, then that cause or ideal can be judged and when it is judged the man who follows it can be better known.
Short answer – Hack is going to be watched very carefully here.
Fazeel Khan seems to be thinking a moment.
”I do not know the lands called “Beacon” – nor their lineage or culture,” he says slowly.
”However, as you are an ally of Amun-ta, and she is witness to the honor of these lands, then through her wisdom they shall be judged. Welcome,” he says with a small, yet polite, nod of his head to Hack.
Yeah, basically he’s saying that if Amun-ta is willing to take some guy as an ally from this place called “Beacon” then it means that she’s already studied Beacon and knows it’s a good place and that any man who has pledged his loyalty to that place must also be pretty good, too.
Of course, the flip side is if that you do something wrong that means that – since Amun-ta has vouched for you – she’s going to be responsible for that action. After all, they’re basically letting you in this place on her say-so. If it wasn’t for her, they wouldn’t be letting you in at all.
So yeah; if something goes wrong it will be on Amun-ta’s head.
However, he says nothing more on it at this time and his eyes flick to the rest of the company.
”And the rest of you? I must know your names, your lords, and the gods you follow before I am able to take you to meet my lord,” he says, watching the company carefully.
Hack can see and sense the edginess of this fellow, but he is used to not being trusted.
Thanks, we are only here because of Amun-ta, and we do not plan to stay verra long.
Melthune stands 'At ease', her helmet under her arm, sword sheathed and shield slung.
When the question turns to her she gives her full family name That she hails from Magnamar, explaining her self as being the 'Defensive' part of the force.
During the voyage, Jenny mulls over the oddness of all he's heard regarding the strange cults of both his homeland, and legendary Osirion... Strange similarities between 'em both, and a mystery here to be dredged from the deeps, he reckons.
At their arrival, Jenner offers the cap'n a salute as he heads off with the others. "Aye, sir! There'll be time enough for me to crew..."
He doesn't speak the local tongue, so listens with his thumbs hooked in his belt until they switch to Taldane. When the call comes for introductions, he steps forward with his big grin back in place.
Fortunately, his many sailing voyages have acquainted him with some of the local customs and views on honor. Jenner offers his callused hand to shake.
"Well met, Fazeel Khan! I am called Holystone: ship's sawbones for any number of crews, and a servant of the Blue Lady, who some call Gozreh. 'Tis my personal voyage in life to heal the hurts of those who need it, and to carry out my Lady's will. I've had many captains in my day, but at the moment my life is hostage to these others you see, including the lady Amun-Ta, for they saved a poor shipwrecked sailor, and he'll travel with 'em as long as they need. I'm from far to the north of here, a land called Varisia."
The rider’s eyes flick from Hack to Melthune; neither of whom serve a deity.
He sees Jenner’s approached with an offered hand and seems a bit unsure of how to proceed. When the bald-headed priest is near him he offers his hand out tentatively and places his palm outward to touch Jenner’s hand.
”Salaam, priest of the Blue Lady,” he says inclining his head.
He beckons to one of the villagers and they nod quickly and in moments they have returned with two waterskins – one for Amun-ta and the other for Jenner, the other priest in the party.
”I am honored to meet a man of faith in these lands,” he says politely.
His eyes move to the others thoughtfully waiting to see what they’ll say next.
Taissa, who stood with Daya and White Fang, listened to the Osirioni, Fazeel Khan, speak to and appraise the group in turn. Only when he spoke in his native tongue did she not understand and so remained silent.
The warrior insisted on learning their names and birth places. She wondered why it was of import to know if they were of faith or not, yet Osirion seemed immersed in worship. Taissa would measure her words lest Amun-ta incur the ire of the lord of these lands for any passing transgressions.
She stepped forward and inclined her head in greeting. "I am Taissa. Here are my animal kin, Daya and White Fang. My native soil is Nirmathas, but I have been a wanderer for many years. Over the past two seasons, I have found shelter in Varisia. I have given my pledge to the Lord Regent, Caius Lucius Titus, of Beacon once known as Roderic's Cove, on the Varisian Gulf. I honour the forces of Nature. I believe in the Spirits that reside in all the natural world - in the springs, lakes, rivers, oceans, mountains, rocks, trees, sky, thunder, wind and shadows. I honour the spirits of the watery places as givers of life and as channel between the physical realm and the other realms."
She then stepped back and waited mutely and observantly.
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The rider glances at Taissa thoughtfully for a moment, his eyes roving between her and Amun-ta. As he listens to Taissa discuss her fealty to the lord of Beacon he nods; clearly pleased at this. When he hears of her homeland he seems non-committal, clearly not recognizing that land, but suspecting it must be a fairly decent place as Amun-ta has you as a confidant at this time.
Taissa as the rider gazes at you, you take a moment to glance around. You don’t know notice much in particular, however, something does occur to you as you look around.
If the guy is on an island, why the heck is he on a horse? What, did they take a few horses and load them onto a boat and sail them over to an island just so a few riders can get from the beach to the main house faster? How hard is that trip – you’re looking at maybe 3 miles at most overland from one side of the island to the other, right? So that’s (at most) a 45 minute walk. Does it really need a horse?
Also, the land here is not very arable – there are some palm trees by the shore and some scrub, but not much grazing land. In short – what is a horse to eat if not “imported” hay? And if it is imported, wouldn’t that be expensive? And if is expensive, why bother keeping the horse on the island?
Something doesn’t add up about the horse being on an island, but you’re not sure what it is at this time as you haven’t fully explored the island.
You suspect it’s not really that big of a deal; but it does seem like a bit of a mystery.
When you mentions your thoughts on religion, he seems a bit tense at this point, somewhat uncomfortable even, and he stares at you hard.
”I have heard that northern folk live in lands filled with ice and snow; that these lands are filled with talking birds and beasts who are larger and stronger than the dumb animals in our land. I have heard, too, that these lands have giants and are filled with cold darkness through most of the year and that witches rule there using their weirding ways…” he says slowly, his eyes now on White Fang who has suddenly decided to roll on the ground to scratch his back, then sits up, his little ears cocking forward, to listen to the rider.
He looks back to Taissa –
”You hold true the spirits of nature as your god – you give your loyalty to earth and stone; to wind and water; to fire and shade… tell me true – are you a witch?” he says, his voice somewhat serious at this time as he studies her.
A "Witch" does not have to be witch in the "in game" sense. Basically this guy would call someone a witch if they are able to have quasi-supernatural abilities that are not given to them from the gods; rather, they get these abilities from other means.
A "Sorcerer" could also be considered a "witch" - but so could anyone who has supernatural or even superhuman abilities which are not gifts from a god or higher power.
A witch, like a wizard or sorcerer – does not gain their magic through the will of the gods. They gain it through secret ways; ways that other mortals do not fully understand.
A priest can be denied their magical powers if they stray from the path of the gods they follow. If a priest or cleric does not obey the will of the gods then they will ultimately lose their casting ability. In short, a priest is bound a specific code that they must stick to; much like a knight is bound to a code to a noble lord.
If a person knows the belief system of the followers of a god or goddess then they know what a priest will generally do. Much like if a person knows the code and personality of a noble lord, they will generally have a good idea of what type of person a knight who follows that noble lord will have.
In this case, if a person can use magic powers without following a code; belief structure; or set of values that can be analyzed and understood, that means that they are an unknown variable. It means that an arcane caster (or even a druid) may suddenly decide to use their magic to do something horrible – after all, there is no specific code which prevents them from doing so.
Of course, there is no guarantee that a witch will use their magic for evil purposes, but they can if they choose, and if they do, no god will stop their magic power.
FYI – if you follow an evil god, clearly you can use magic to do evil things; but that’s cut and dry. If you follow an evil god and admit to it, then it’s real easy to say – “Get out of here; you follow an evil god!”
If you're a witch or sorcerer (or even an oracle) - who knows what will happen, or what you may decide to do?
"You are guest on the lands of my lord, northman - what is your name, please? And who is your lord and what god do you serve?" he says to Hack in a calm voice watching the warrior thoughtfully as the man is the first to disembark from the boat.
Moving calmly, Polux looms slightly behind Hack, as the man seems to press on for added information, hand resting casually on his blade.
After the others have introduced themselves, he does the same - "I am Polux, I follow no God, and my companions are my Lords" - he offers with a nod.
She pondered the presence of horses on an island without suitable grasslands to feed them. Taissa made note to speak of it to Amun-ta and the others later, were they were afforded some privacy.
Taissa had followed Fazeel's eyes on White Fang and then understood the question better -- the inference.
Her answer was straightforward and spoken in measured voice, "My connection to the animal spirit is deep and natural, an instinctive ability from childhood. Those, like me, are one with the wild and the natural world. We are loyal and protect our pack. I do not practice magic. I am no witch." Taissa kept the knowledge of Daya's and White Fang's ability to speak a secret ... for now. She did not know this foreign man and she did not trust his intentions at present.
Taissa's sapphire eyes held Fazeel Khan's gaze; not in an aggressive manner, but in an assertive, honest manner. She wondered at all the questioning and probing. Something seemed amiss.
"I do not practice magic. I am no witch."
The man nods his head to Taissa.
”Apologies, lady – I meant no disrespect,” he says with the same polite tone.
”I am charged to learn the lineage of any who would be guest of my lord, thank you for answering me truthfully,” he says to her.
His eyes flick to Polux.
”Begging your pardon, lady, but that one has no courtesy. As he names you his lord I ask that you please teach him better manners to his hosts,” he adds, watching Polux with a frown.
"I am Polux, I follow no God, and my companions are my Lords"
The man ease his horse somewhat to move closer to Polux and looks down at him thoughtfully, the spear easy in his hand.
He clearly hears the tone that Polux used in the word "Lord" and watches as the northerner move his hand to the hilt of his weapon. Finally, Fazeel sees how Polux looms threateningly behind Hack, as if to function as a body-guard; or something more dangerous...
”You are not a courteous man, whoever you are… Polux,” Fazeel says looking past Hack down at Polux.
”You are also not very observant,” he adds with a flat voice.
”I was speaking to your self-named lord and master; in this case the warlord named Hack, but we had resolved the issue of his lineage already before you elected to interrupt.”
”As Hack is your master and lord then that means your discretions are his and when you cause issue it reflects badly on him,” he says with a polite admonishment to your actions.
Snaga glances to Polux and then back to the rider.
”I am Snaga Bloodblade; I follow the Captain of Warriors of Beacon; I am priest to the god Hróðvitnir. I own this northman’s foul ways – not any other; if he is foul, then be angry at me,” he says quickly, stepping between Polux and the rider before something might happen.
”The slave Polux has long journey from northlands – northmen not good in hot sun, make them rude – mercy for him,” Snaga adds quickly.
The rider looks at Snaga thoughtfully, as if trying to gauge the goblin’s honesty. However, he does not press the matter at the time.
”I do not know the god named Hróðvitnir, and I am well versed in the gods. Who is this one, and what is his purpose?” he says.
”He is god of northlands – few know him. His weapon is strong; the hammer of great power called Grond… he runs in the high heavens and chases the sun…”
The rider looks to the sky at the sun for a moment, then back at Snaga.
”I think that your god will not catch the sun, but if he does, he may not enjoy the embrace…” he says.
Snaga says nothing, but grovels low before the man.
”As you are a priest and ally to our noble cousin Amun-ta, we shall accept your presence here.”
He motions to one of the villagers and the villager brings Snaga a waterskin, which he drinks from.
A noble/royal “Cousin” doesn’t necessarily mean a blood relation. Rather, the term “cousin” can suggest a kinship that only royals/nobles share. In other words –Nobles all come from the same heritage just as Commoners come from their own heritage.
In this case it’s likely that Amun-ta is not his actual cousin but it’s just as likely that this guy is himself from a noble family and probably a minor nobleman.
The man nods his head to Taissa.
”Apologies, lady – I meant no disrespect,” he says with the same polite tone.
”I am charged to learn the lineage of any who would be guest of my lord, thank you for answering me truthfully,” he says to her.
Taissa inclined her head in acknowledgement of the apology and explanation. Her reply was polite and sincere, although she was still wary,
"I have nothing to hide, Fazeel Khan. It is fair that your lord should have some knowledge of those within his estates."
”Begging your pardon, lady, but that one has no courtesy. As he names you his lord I ask that you please teach him better manners to his hosts,” he adds, watching Polux with a frown.
"I am no lord." Taissa made it plain to the Osirion warrior. "I believe my companion means that we are loyal to each other and stand as one. His present frankness veils his charm. Please accept this as fair explanation as no disrespect or discourtesy was intended. We simply mean to see Priestess Amun-ta safe and secure in these lands." Taissa smiled, hoping the small, social nicety would be enough to ease Fazeel Khan from his opinion of Polux or any other in their group.
"I am no lord."
The rider glances from Polux's looming presence, his eyes clearly marking Polux's hands on his weapon.
"Then my apologies, again - your companion suggested otherwise; I misunderstood," he says politely.
"I believe my companion means that we are loyal to each other and stand as one. His present frankness veils his charm."
The rider continues to watch Polux, but speaks to Taissa.
"Perhaps you are right, lady. However, I regret that his charm is lost on me, then."
"Meanwhile he has had ample time to speak for himself, as I judge it, and that was the sum of his response?"
He shakes his head.
"Please accept this as fair explanation as no disrespect or discourtesy was intended. We simply mean to see Priestess Amun-ta safe and secure in these lands."
The man looks from Taissa to Snaga, and watches the goblin drink for a moment, then he looks back to Taissa and sees her smile and returns it with a small smile of his own and a little nod of his head.
"Very well, lady; with so many to vouchsafe his actions, I shall not protest."
He then speaks to you all directly.
"Welcome to our lands; please follow me to the house of my lord Amurath," he says with a small bow in his saddle.
He turns his horse and rides up the path through thick palm leaves which winds slowly to the summit of the hill. The villagers watch as your company moves forward and soon they are gone behind you as the path curves through the trees and ferns.
Hack shakes his head at the spokesman for the island. He turns back to Polux and Tai as they progress to the house, and he says in a low voice.
This guy is a real winner, eh? We need to be quick about this and be on our way. I am not signin' up for some long solution to these people's problems. We have enough of our own back home.
”You are not a courteous man, whoever you are… Polux,” Fazeel says looking past Hack down at Polux.
”You are also not very observant,” he adds with a flat voice.
”I was speaking to your self-named lord and master; in this case the warlord named Hack, but we had resolved the issue of his lineage already before you elected to interrupt.”
”As Hack is your master and lord then that means your discretions are his and when you cause issue it reflects badly on him,” he says with a polite admonishment to your actions.
You misunderstood my words" - Polux retorts - "Perhaps a matter of customs, traditions, or in fact being observant or not, as you have well pointed out" - he adds, continuing - "It is good that my companion Taissa has clarified what I meant, for your understanding"
”I am Snaga Bloodblade; I follow the Captain of Warriors of Beacon; I am priest to the god Hróðvitnir. I own this northman’s foul ways – not any other; if he is foul, then be angry at me,” he says quickly, stepping between Polux and the rider before something might happen.
”The slave Polux has long journey from northlands – northmen not good in hot sun, make them rude – mercy for him,” Snaga adds quickly.
The rider looks at Snaga thoughtfully, as if trying to gauge the goblin’s honesty. However, he does not press the matter at the time.
Polux looks at the goblin, and offers a short bow and a smile - "Thank you for intervening Snaga - I know you mean well, but it was not needed, nor would I accept that words or actions directed at me would be taken on by another" - he winks - "And I am not a slave, none of us are" - he finishes.
The rider continues to watch Polux, but speaks to Taissa.
"Perhaps you are right, lady. However, I regret that his charm is lost on me, then."
"Meanwhile he has had ample time to speak for himself, as I judge it, and that was the sum of his response?"
He shakes his head.
"I have said all that I believe is called for - perhaps your trusted family member can shed more light on what you wish to know about us" - he returns the stare back at the arrogant man - "My charms are maybe lost on you because I am not trying to charm you, and I do not feel the need to claim being any more than I am - we are here out of our will to offer assistance to Amun-Ta and her house, plain and simple" - he shrugs.
"Is it customary in your land, when you meet someone for the first time, to emit all sort of opinions on what you think they are or not? Would you gladly accept if we all did the same, and put forth what we think about yourself, even though we do not know you?" - he questions - "If it is so, I would gladly do it"
--------------------
Hack shakes his head at the spokesman for the island. He turns back to Polux and Tai as they progress to the house, and he says in a low voice.
This guy is a real winner, eh? We need to be quick about this and be on our way. I am not signin' up for some long solution to these people's problems. We have enough of our own back home.
"I think he is simply defensive of his home and family" - Polux responds to his companion - "And I think he is afraid of something - fear gets people on edge" - he adds with another look at the man, as they move along.
For now the rider continues to ride forward, doing his best not to get into an argument with any of the company. Amun-set seems a bit edgy with everything. Clearly she is aware that this man is the one chance for her to survive; she does not want to do or say anything to jeapordize that possibility.
Eventually the company breaks from the trees. They see a relatively small clearing that leads to the western edge of the island near some steep cliffs. Presumably the stair that leads below to the protected cove is beyond.
The layout of the general “main house” is very similar to the one at Amun-ta’s property. A medium sized wall about ten feet rises up to flank the house’s main grounds. There is a small cistern that holds fresh water outside the main house. A modest temple in the form of a “step-pyramid” is on the eastern side of the property. A small building that might serve as an armory or barracks for the house guard is a bit further south.
Once you reach the summit you have a chance to look around and see the general area of the island all around you, as this piece of the property is on the highest point of the island.
Near the “barracks’ area you see that there is a stable that can hold four horses. There is also a medium sized cart with two oxen nearby.
In front of both the main house and the armory you see what looks like the formal “house guard”. They’re armed with long spears; a medium round shield; short daggers and are wearing studded leather over long linen tunics. You see similarly dressed men on the walls; but instead of shields and spears they carry short bows and a quiver of arrows.
There are two guards at each gate and two archers on the walls of the house. You do not know how many troops are inside but you’d suspect that the House Guard may be roughly forty spearmen; twenty archers; and possibly eight to twelve riders such as the man that is escorting you.
However, before you have a chance to really soak things in, you are invited into the courtyard of the Great House and see a lovely mosaic on the ground and potted plants in the courtyard. An older man with a long black beard; possibly in his late forties is standing there. He has a strange bronze symbol that hangs from his neck.
The god is named “Montu-Ra”. His domains are Fire; the Sky; and warfare. He is considered to be Neutral Good.
This guy’s symbol is not just the run-of-the-mill symbol. He’s likely a priest; and probably a high-ranking priest to this “Montu-Ra”.
For example, if you’d put his level of personal experience as a priest on a scale of 1-20 (for example) you’d bet his rank would be at least a 10; not counting his other levels of experience. In short, he’s pretty powerful.
This man is dressed in a blue linen tunic and carrying only a small, ornately made dagger at his side. He moves forward a moment and studies you.
Fazeel has dismounted outside the gate and moves to speak to the man and the man nods while looking you over; clearly getting the “run-down” from Fazeel. When Fazeel is done, the man nods and dismisses him to the property outside. Fazeel bows low and turns and leaves.
The older man looks at you all for a moment, studying you each in turn with dark and very shrewd eyes.
“Greetings Cousin,” he says eventually to Amun-ta, using the Common Tongue, bowing to her politely.
He turns to you all.
”Greetings all; my name is Amurath Khan – welcome to my home,” he says with a polite bow to you.
”You are guests in my house; how can I make your stay comfortable?” he adds as he looks at you all thoughtfully.
This guy is a pretty good guy. He’s sincere with his courtesy; he’s very intelligent and protective of his people. But he’s a good and honorable person. So long as you treat him with respect, he’ll be courteous and friendly with; treating you like an ally and doing what he can to honestly make you all comfortable.
However, you have a strong hunch that this is not a guy who you want to piss off. He’s the kind of guy who has a sincere respect for matters of personal honor and you sense that he’s about as dangerous (in his own way) as the Lord of Beacon is. But if you’re his friend and polite, you have nothing to worry about.
In eastern cultures it is very important to have good manners between a host and a guest. When the culture spent most of its early evolution in nomadic roots a person would die in the wilderness if they did not have the aid of kindly hosts; and if a person disrespected the “host/guest” dynamic, that was bad business.
The plus side is that it is very bad manners to kill or injure a guest.
Meanwhile, if a guest disrespects their host, that’s another story.
Hack shakes his head at the spokesman for the island. He turns back to Polux and Tai as they progress to the house, and he says in a low voice.
This guy is a real winner, eh? We need to be quick about this and be on our way. I am not signin' up for some long solution to these people's problems. We have enough of our own back home.
Taissa listened to Hack's comment and Polux's response. Her gaze drifted forward, toward the slow trotting Osirion warrior on his horse. She would not utter word against the stranger, as she did not want retribution to fall upon Amun-ta's head.
In quiet-spoken voice, Taissa added to Hack and Polux, "We gauge the safety of this cousin to Amun-ta and find out what darkness has befallen Osirion. So many Undead creatures, Taissa mused silently. "Then aye, we swiftly return to Beacon."
Taissa respectfully inclined her head upon sight of the master of the house, Amurath Khan.
"Greetings, Amurath Khan. I am Taissa Sloane, and, thank you for your kind reception and welcome. We could use a place to wash the grime of travel and combat from us, if that is not too much to ask." Taissa bestowed a pleasant smile on the long-bearded man.
It would not do to go into discussion with such a man of obvious wealth and station smelling and looking as bad as they all did.
"Greetings, Amurath Khan. I am Taissa Sloane, and, thank you for your kind reception and welcome. We could use a place to wash the grime of travel and combat from us, if that is not too much to ask." Taissa bestowed a pleasant smile on the long-bearded man.
The man's eyes go wide.
"Of course, m'lady - how thoughtless of me," he says, seeming to be genuinely embarrassed that he didn't suggest that already.
Signalling to one of his servants he speaks quickly to the man, who nods.
"I will have the bathhouse prepared for you at once; it will be ready soon as it takes time to properly heat the water. Meanwhile, please enjoy some this modest refreshment while you wait," he adds with a graceful bow to Taissa.
Another servant comes forward carrying a small basin with fresh water and heated cloths that are lightly scented with myrrh that he offers you to at least wash the grime your faces. A small plate with olives, figs and dates is offered, as well as cold beer - a drink very popular with folk from Osirion.
The man offers you all the light foods to snack on while you wait for the bathing facilities, his eyes glancing at the others to see what they are thinking or what they would need as well.
Melthune strides along with the party. Her gaze is on that of the warrior mounted before her. She evaluates how he sits upon his stead, the weapon at his side and its quality.
When the group approaches the main house and its attached buildings, she calmly and professionally does the same to the defensive lay out, structure and again evaluates any soldiers she sees there. Gauging their 'class' and style of fighting.
She listens intently to this new Leader's words and bows her head in thanks and recognition of his position and the offer of hospitality when it is offered.
The weapons are all "Masterwork" in quality - both armor and weapons.
They're very lightly armed, and after glancing at their physique you'd guess that they're very good "Dexterity Fighters".
You're not sure of their skill, but based on their average look, you'd suspect (on a scale of 1-20) that they're possibly around a level of 2.
It would be very tricky to go against all of them.
Meanwhile, the leader of the company seems to have had multiple levels of experience in various fields. You'd guess that as a warrior he's likely had at least 3 or 4 vested years of experience; not counting whatever other training he's had...
Meanwhile, despite the fact that his dagger looks very obviously masterwork and well made, you have a hunch that it's well-used in combat.
There's a small glyph on the hilt, however. You don't recognize it, though. It's very unusual...
Melthune does her best to remember what she's noticed in her perusal of things so that she might discuss them at a later, more private date/time.
Smiling at the brusqueness of his companions, Stefan steps towards the rider.
"I am Stefan Lebeda of House Lebeda in Brevoy, but now of Beacon." Stefan delivers with a flourish. "We have come as allies of Amun-ta who has recently suffered great loss of which I am sure she will speak to your Master of. As you can see, we are a diverse group and not all are accustomed to your ways, so please take no offense. Also, do not so hastily draw conclusions about any of us, as our manners may differ so from yours as to create a false image. However, I am sure we are all grateful for the succor you can offer, you have my thanks Sir."
"Thank you m'lord. You are most gracious. For truth, our only immediate concern is for Amun-ta's problem. There is another issue of our own that perhaps you may help with some information, but for now I believe everyone could do with some rest and refreshment before addressing such dark matters."
Jenner's dark eyes flit around the estate, their host, his colleagues; he's trying to judge his words carefully before speaking. And he nods at Stefan's words of their group not all being accustomed to the ways of this land.
He offers Amurath Khan a deep bow, touching the colorful bandanna on his head in a respectful fashion. He's glad he's met a sailor or two in the past who professed to worship this god...
"Your hospitality is most appreciated, servant of great Montu-Ra whose domain is the great blue sky an' the fiery sun," the sailor says earnestly. "We will do our best to be gracious guests and worthy of it, eh, my friends? But as y'see, sir, we are from real distant lands, and as my mate here Stefan says, our customs are strange to you, and vicey-versy. If we offer any offense, we don't do it out of any notion to be rude blighters, sir, but only on account we don't know your fashion of courtesies. Beggin' yer pardon in advance on that count."
Jenner follows to the baths with the others: just because the Blue Lady grants him water at will doesn't mean he smells any better for his days on a ship and then on that island and then on a ship again. It'll be a pleasure to get properly clean.
"Well met Amurath Khan, and thank you for your hospitality" - Polux bows - "Indeed a bath would be excellent"
As they wait, he tries some of the light snacks, and enjoys the cold beer immensely.
At Jenner's reference about being graceous and worthy guests, he winks at the man, and offers a slight smile - he really seems to appreciate this novelty - COLD beer - "This" - he comments to the others - "Is a drink worth of the Gods themselves if you ask me" - then turning to their host, he asks further - "Would it be too much to ask how you manage to keep the beverage at such a low temperature?"
"Of course, m'lady - how thoughtless of me," he says, seeming to be genuinely embarrassed that he didn't suggest that already.
Signalling to one of his servants he speaks quickly to the man, who nods.
"I will have the bathhouse prepared for you at once; it will be ready soon as it takes time to properly heat the water. Meanwhile, please enjoy some this modest refreshment while you wait," he adds with a graceful bow to Taissa.
"Nay, not thoughtless. You were gracious to ask and provide. Thank you."
Taissa picked up one of the clean, warm cloths and dipped it into the fresh water. She could smell the myrrh yet did not take umbrage at the exotic scent. She wiped the cloth over her face, eyes and cheeks, then her hands. When she was done she placed the now-soiled cloth on the tray held by the servant. She picked up a fig and date and shared them with her animals. It had been some time since she had a hot bath and her tight muscles would be grateful for the respite. She was patient as the water was heated, remaining respectful and observant as the others took turn speaking and asking questions. She was glad that Daya and White Fang were on their best behaviour and silent.
[dice=Taissa's Perception]1d20+9
[dice=Daya's Perception]1d20+5
[dice=White Fang's Perception]1d20+10
While everyone exchanges pleasantries regarding the potential for a bath, Hack will chug back one of the cold beers.
BRRRRRP...man, that's good stuff there. I commend ya on the drink.
He glances around to see if anything seems out of the ordinary, waiting to follow Polux's lead into the house.
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After everyone had a chance to refresh themselves Amurath Khan leads you into a small room off the main room. There is a deep pool of water and several bath attendants there. They take your clothes and have you lay down and scrub you thoroughly, removing the grime and dust of the day as well as the remains of the gore that may have resided on you from the attack with the undead several days ago.
Your clothes are taken to be laundered for you and you are provided linen robes to relax in while your clothes are cleaned. He offers to attend to your weapons as well; making sure that they are cleaned of any grime or lingering filth then have them sharpened, oiled and polished as well.
It is somewhat unusual in the bathhouse as neither Khan or Amun-ta have an issue with disrobing in public for the purpose of bathing. Amun-ta explains that in the south in certain circumstances that – “Nakedness is seen, but rarely noticed”.
Once that is done the Khan gets into the large bath and relaxes in the hot water for some time, just letting the heat unlock any tension in his muscles.
Everyone who allows their weapons to be cleaned thoroughly discovers later that they are so well taken care of that the next attack you make with those weapons you gain a once time Misc. Bonus +1 to hit.
If you submit to the full bath you feel fully relaxed and comfortable and gain an additional +5 Temporary Hit points for the remainder of the day. The Temporary HP allows you to go +5 over your maximum HP allowed for the purpose of this day.
Khan informs you that beer is cold because – once it is brewed – it is stored below the house in rooms carved out of the rock below. The beer is stored in caves below sea level; and despite the summer heat, the caves are fairly cold (roughly 45-50 degrees Fahrenheit in the caves; fairly chilly and damp in the caves), as well as many foodstuffs for the people.
The place is extremely well-tended to, but the artwork (such as it is) is very minimal. Most of the work done seems to have a very disciplined caliber to it.
When undressed both Amun-ta and Amurath Khan are clearly in excellent physical condition. Despite the fact that Amurath seems like he may be roughly 50 years old, his body is very muscled, as if he has seen a lot of physical activity and conditioning.
However, the conditioning doesn’t seem consistent with people who simply gain muscle mass from hard labor; but they look as if they were conditioned through specific physical training.
Amurath Khan’s house seems to have an almost Spartan design to its style. It’s less fancy/pretty and well sculpted (though there is some nicer/artistic design).
Based on what you see; including his physique and the home’s design that it’s probable that at some point in his life he was a formal member of a military unit or organization.
If your Perception Check was 18 or higher you may elect to make a “Heal” check, or a Knowledge: Nature check and finally an additional Knowledge: Religion check to find out any more information.
Regardless of what you elect to do, once the company is fully rested and comfortable Khan is prepared to discuss your actual business here.
You are led from his bathhouse into his main house and get comfortable on some low couches when finger-foods are brought to you to snack on and some hot tea. Once everyone sits around he looks at you all.
”Cousin,” he says to Amun-ta ”I grieve for your father’s house and your people.”
”There has been great trouble to the south; an evil plague has awakened and rumors of it have been seen. This affliction that has come upon your father is the work of a disease, not sorcery. Instead it is a sickness that is spreading through the southern realms and gradually moving north.”
”It would be wise to protect yourself or your people from any disease – if you do not take such cautions then it is possible that the plague may spread to your own people in the west,” he says thoughtfully glancing at the others.
”We do not believe that the plague was caused naturally, however; rather, we think it was discovered in some foul ruin or black place of power long forgotten. It was not made as a curse, but its awakening is certainly a dark blight on our people.”
He sips the tea and looks at the company.
”As brutal as this sounds, your family was bested by a disease; nothing more. If there was a chance for vengeance, know that I would be by your side to bring justice; but how can justice be accomplished against the ravages of the gods?” he adds, trying to be comforting to Amun-ta, but clearly not certain how to be very comforting, despite his best efforts.
She seems somewhat upset, but does what she can to control it.
”Thank you for your words; Amurath Khan,” she says eventually, taking a long drink of the tea.
”I am without family – what do you advise?”
He considers this.
”You are welcome to stay with my house, if you would like; you are a priestess and a skilled warrior besides. These talents will be useful in defending our land from possible new threats…”
”Consider this and what it would mean to join my household as a priestess here,” he adds, again, trying to be comforting.
As she considers this, he turns to look at the rest of you.
”You are my guests; how can I help you while you are in my home?” he asks you directly, curious to know what you need specifically now that you are here.
Jenner has soap in his eyes and is enjoying the bath way too much to notice anything at all, it seems.
The Varisian isn't bothered by giving up his weapons, or the local approach to nudity-- modesty and privacy are luxury goods in the tight confines of most ships he's crewed, and besides, he's a healer as well: seeing the sick unclothed is part and parcel of the work. He strips out of his salt-water-crusted clothes, their original colors faded and bleached by sun and seawater, and starts undoing some of of the trinkets and small braids woven into his matted hair. He is dearly in need of that bath.
The sailor's body is tanned by years and years of the sun, so that despite his Varisian heritage, he's near-as-dark as some of the Osiriani. Colorful tattoos wind their way over his shoulders and barrel chest: sea dragons, the 'blue lady' he's always talking of, anchors and other classic sailor motifs, and also a bit of text in Common on one shoulder stating his name and the name of his parents, where they can be found, and that if his corpse is found washed ashore, might they be notified by a kindly soul?
Jenner keeps his eyes politely averted from the nude forms of the others, and sighs gustily as he sinks into the hot water and is scrubbed by the attendants. "Gods, a man could get used to this!"
Once the talk has turned more to their business, Jenner's good humor fades and he listens intently. He is sunk to the water up to his chin, with his beard floating around on the surface like the feelers of a jellyfish.
"Well, sir, I can't as speak for the rest of my crew... as I told your man, they got me off a rock in a bad spot, and my fate is bound to theirs 'til I pay that debt. Strewth, I'd as soon be ship-bound back to the lands of my birth: but these dead blighters took my old crew and ship, and mayhap my place ought to be here helpin' stop this disease... I fathom that's what the Blue Lady might wish for me."
He frowns, working at a knot in his hair. "But as I said: I'll go where these others will. If they also wish to turn prow northward... not my place to make 'em stay, eh.
"But how long's this disease been runnin' its colors in this land, sir? Cannot the priests do nothin' to stop it?"
Hack leisurely disrobes, and the scars that adorn his body are clear now for all to see. The totem of his tribe is obviously some sort of predatory bear from the shape of the blue inks covering his upper torso. His back depicts the springing and slashing beast attacking under a full moon with massive claws. When criss-crossed with the scars of a man twice his age, his body exudes an ominous presence that rivals it when clothed and armored.
He sinks into the warm bath with a look of satisfaction on his face.
Ahhhhhhh...Any way that we could have some more of that beer sent over while we soak?
If your Perception Check was 18 or higher you may elect to make a “Heal” check, or a Knowledge: Nature check and finally an additional Knowledge: Religion check to find out any more information.
Taissa disrobed, not feeling self-conscious of her naked form having bathed in lakes, rivers and streams since childhood. She permitted the servants to take her clothes and weapons to clean them. A light linen robe was left for her to dress in after her bath.
In the hot water, Taissa stretched her muscles and allowed the heat to soothe the aches of travel and fight. She lifted her cup of tea and sipped, enjoying the exotic flavour of the brew. Daya did not care for the hot water much, but she found a small pool of fresh, cool water and cleaned her feathers and preened on its short ledge. White Fang leapt in beside her and splashed around before jumping out and shaking his white fur with utmost delight. He trotted over to Taissa's side of the bath and sat down on the woven mat, before closing his eyes and napping.
Hearing that a disease was spreading across the southern lands and moving north, Taissa wondered how it could be stopped. She did not want others turned into those Undead creatures.
"Is there anything to stop this dark plague? Is there no cure, Amurath Khan?"
Taissa realised a little too late that Holystone had asked a similar question and she smiled, moved her arms in the warm water and waited for Amurath Khan to answer.
In spite of it all being unusual, Polux does not hesitate in taking off his clothes , setting his weapons aside, even if in clear view, and giving in to the full bathing treatment. The man's body is not massively muscular, but is definitely taut, lean and toned - his chest bears two massive scars in cross pattern over its left side, and his back displays multiple thin, almost hairlike, similar ones across most of it - they all look old and definitely healed though
Even though it may seem otherwise, Polux is actually a quite relaxed guy, but still the immersion and bathing bring about a most welcome respite from the road travelled, washing away the salt water, enemies' blood and even some undead 'flakes' from their last run in with the creatures at Amun-Ta's wrecked household.
He cannot help noticing also their hosts physical condition, definitely built out of training, and martial one most likely he ponders, observing them thoroughly. Also he does not manage to avoid a sneak peek at Taissa as she disrobes - that one he tries to disguise, though not very successfully.
After that is taken care of, he moves with the others to the main house. As the conversation begins, his fist urge is to make a pun about the Gods will, but this time he stays silent, nodding approvingly at both Jenner and Taissas's questions, while himself immediately curious about these foul ruins mentioned by Amurath.
Melthune follows with the group to the bathing facilities. She shows no qualms or problems with disrobing along with every one else.
She does, however, move to initially sit slightly apart that she may personally take care of the cleaning and maintenance (Basic maintenance) herself. She is quite happy for the servants to watch, but it is something 'She must do'.
Once her gear is taken care of, she joins the others in getting cleaned up. Casually sliding her reasonably well toned ph7ysique into the waters along with every one else.
Once there she also, surreptitiously, tries to show Taissa the mark she'd noticed earlier on the Captain's weapon hilt.
Amurath lolls in the hot water, watching you all, seemingly relaxed, but it is clear he is more attentive than his pose suggests.
""But how long's this disease been runnin' its colors in this land, sir? Cannot the priests do nothin' to stop it?"
He opens his eyes and glances at Jenner.
”This is a serious issue for many in Osirion; but less here than other places, as we are bound tighter to the gods than many other places in the world. Yet in truth, this affliction is difficult to contest.”
”Most undead are created with vile necromantic sorcery; the flesh of the corpse is animated by evil energy. If a priest called on the power of the gods to banish evil energy with a blessing, this would normally be enough o dispel the undead with some ease. Alas – this is not the case in this instance.”
”Since this is in fact an illness, usual methods of dealing with the undead are not helpful. One cannot channel positive energy to push back these creatures; they are not made of negative energy – they are simply the rotted remains of people who have been broken by this disease.”
”The best way to combat it, that we know, would be to take a single victim and banish a disease with divine energy; but even then, the priest – if he was able to banish a disease with his god’s blessing; he would still be at a loss. Once the disease is gone the body is still ruined with rot and erosion. Using a spell to banish a disease would only be the first step; then the victim must be healed in body from the ravages of the disease.”
”And all of this must be done even while others like him may be charging at you en masse,” he adds with a sigh.
”For now we have taken what steps we can to protect ourselves. The disease is only communicated through the blood. So long as you are not bitten or clawed, you are not at risk. And even then there are some with a constitution healthy enough to resist the disease if it is communicated.”
”We do not have the manpower or resources to cure an entire township; so for now we do what we can to prevent it from encroaching on our presence.”
”These creatures are not able to swim; and once they enter the waves their bodies fill with water and they become bloated and are less of a threat.”
”Fire especially hurts them; for the rotted flesh is more susceptible to being burned then healthy flesh. To fight them best, I would use fire.”
”But finally we know one thing – because they are living people who are so infected, they will eventually succumb to the disease and waste away. As their bodies rot if they do not refresh the rot with new blood, they will – in time – die of the affliction. This process typically takes several weeks; but for now we attempt to lead them into the desert and let them wander in the sun until they are swallowed by the sands.”
”If it comes to you in the north take those victims that you first find and spare no expense to curing it before it spreads. But if it does spread; fire is your best ally in defeating them.”
Ahhhhhhh...Any way that we could have some more of that beer sent over while we soak?
Amurath glances at Hack and snaps his fingers. One of the attendants quickly refreshes Hack's cup with another draught of beer.
"Is there anything to stop this dark plague? Is there no cure, Amurath Khan?"
He glances somewhat thoughtfully at Taissa.
”As I said – there are ways; but for now we know nothing but the power of the gods. There is no holistic or alchemical remedy that we are aware of… Further, even if the body is cured, it will still be ravaged and scarred by rot. So if you were to heal a man with some sort of poultice than he would still be lame, blind, or mute – or some combination, perhaps, after what the disease did to him. He must be cured quickly with the power of the gods; else the rotted flesh – even free of the disease – would become withered and he may be a cripple forever.”
As Khan lounges in the tub with you, you are all impressed with his sense of almost effortless dignity and somewhat veiled charisma. The man seems to wear his title like a garment, even while undressed.
Perhaps to compliment this display, or enhance it, White Fang notices that his Alpha is in the tub.
Naturally, he feels it is his solemn responsibility to aid in her diplomatic efforts.
Therefore, the young pup musters all the nautical lore that he can recall and rushes boldly to her side, recalling sailing terms from their journey with the Halfling smugglers – though perhaps not using them well in this instance.
”” cries the pup as he flings himself forward.
Splashing down in the water next to Taissa, he breaks the surface of the water and “doggy-paddles” to her, his little nose and mouth poking from the water, constantly muttering ”Hot, hot, hot, hot,” until her reaches Taissa and then struggles to get out of the water and then flings himself on the tiles next to her, panting heavily in her ear.
Amurath looks at White Fang, his eyebrow quirking thoughtfully, but he says nothing, merely glancing at Taissa, curious to know what is it she plans on doing with the suddenly soaked "White Menace"…
Amurath Khan’s diet is not consistent with what is grown on this island. Also, the food that he serves almost certainly is imported. That means he’s probably well off to import such delicacies. That means that his house is probably pretty well set-up financially to have his own “island fortress” as well as mounted retainers and at least one small fishing village on the island.
The island itself is too small to have that many retainers on it, at least, based on what you’ve seen. It’s likely he has further connections on the mainland somewhere and probable that his chief source of income is on the mainland itself, as the island doesn’t seem very capable of supporting a large population.
Amun-ta’s muscle development is consistent with a man who has spent most of his time riding. He’s built like a horseman. Further, as you watched him move he has an unusual grace or balance; consistent only with sailors who are used to walking a ship’s deck while in heavy storms. However, your gut tells you (especially given the calmer waters of the east) that it’s more likely that he picked up this grace while riding on a chariot.
In short; he’s a very competent warrior. But he’s not the kind of person you’d expect to be living on an island.
Not a very high roll – but here goes:
1. You recall enough to know that the priests of his god are somewhat more militant in their faith. Closer to “paladins” rather than scholars in that their god is a god of heroic battle; so they believe it is a religious duty of their priesthood to study warfare – both tactics and practical usage.
2. The mark on the dagger was likely a rune of power. You’re not sure, but if you had to guess, you would think that he has bonded the dagger with some sort of holy enchantment to increase its abilities somehow. You’re not sure why specifically he’d pick the dagger; but you’d bet money that it has some sort of enchantment on it.
FYI – he’s not wearing it in the tub; but it is on a small table in easy reach.
Khan obviously notices you signaling Taissa; but he doesn’t seem very bothered for some reason. It’s almost as if he has mentally assessed your company and determined that even if you all joined against him that you're probably not much of a threat to him; though you have no idea why he'd think that.
White Fang looks at Taissa and his little tail droops and his ears go down.
"Sorry Alpha, I just wanted to play," he says to her with a little voice.
Amurath Khan studies the warg pup for a while. Then he glances at the others for a bit, then back to White Fang.
"You are not from these lands; you are a northern beast, yes?" he eventually says to White Fang.
"Yes sir," he says looking up the older man.
Amurath Khan nods his head kindly at the pup. He looks like he may something more, but instead, he leans his head back thoughtfully and seems to be thinking about something, curious to know if the others have any further questions.