The caravan that you have all joined has been going for more than a week. It started out in the town of Solku, heading north towards the scrub-lands. Garavel the man that hired all of you on runs a tight operation. You all have noticed that nothing stays wrong for every long under his watchful eye. The land before you has a few hills but is mostly empty, but to the west you can make out the mighty Pale Mountains.
With Garavel running things the caravan has barely had any time to stop or have people be idle for any length of time. However this has caused the caravan to run ahead of schedule which has let Garavel lessen his grip some, letting the people on the caravan relax some. The caravan has stopped for the day. Everyone part of the caravan is now sitting in front of the camp fire eating and resting for travel for the next day.
Omaz' eyes constantly search the land marks and path taken. Not everything is being done as HE would do it, but that's not for him to say.
Another long, hot day of travel had Asanna feeling sweaty and sore, two conditions she didn't much like if she had a say in the matter. The young woman stretches out next to the building campfire as she wiggles her feet one by one out of her boots. The rush of sweet, cool air swirling around her toes then the contrast of the warm dirt below as she digs them into the soil sends the tiefling into mini-shudders of relaxation. A deep sigh of relief escapes her lips as her hands proceed to unwind the layers of shawls wrapped around her head and face, leaving the unwound length drapped over her small shoulders while her auburn locks tumble in a messy cascade down to join its removed shackles, "I swear today felt hotter than yesterday. And I think I picked up half the rocks from here to Solku in my boots somehow." Asanna punctuates the last part by up-ending one of her boots as several small pebbles and dirt flow out in a stream.
Asanna smirks at her own complaining, shrugging her shoulders at nobody in particular as she digs into the evening meal. For someone with such a small frame, she seems to devour an auroch's portion of the food as she wolfs down her food quickly. Eat quick before someone else eats it, life on the streets tends to drill that into you pretty early on. As she finishes and dusts her mouth and fingers off of any leftover crumbs, Asanna looks around the campfire at the others, "So how soon you think we'll arrive at Kelmarane?"
"I swear today felt hotter than yesterday. And I think I picked up half the rocks from here to Solku in my boots somehow." Asanna punctuates the last part by up-ending one of her boots as several small pebbles and dirt flow out in a stream.
Omaz smiles at the odd looking girl, "The real threat will be scorpions in your boots, or small snakes. They love shady moist places so I advise checking them carefully before putting them on whenever you do."
"So how soon you think we'll arrive at Kelmarane?"
"Hard to say, depends on the weather, and the pace. Though Garavel seems to know what he is doing." The kelishite gazes at the distance, his eyes speculative, "Why do you seek Kelmarane?"
The half-orc stands with his back to the fire. Staring out into the expanse. His whole life he'd always been crowded, the slave pens, cells when he'd attempted escape. The sheer vastness of a landscape not crowded by buildings or throngs of people calls to something long asleep inside him.
Gethric stood painfully close to the fire, eyes mesmerised by the flames as they flickered and sparked. He warmed his hands to what must almost have been a blister before turning away. His frame was swathed in the black cloth of the bedu of the desert, leaving only his head free of it's embrace. While travelling his face was covered by a loose wrapped tagelmust, but now that they had stopped he had unwound the fabric to leave it hanging on his shoulders.
Stretching out the kinks of the day, Gethric moved with an easy grace as though a tightly wound coil ready to leap forth. The curved blade at his waist had a well polished hilt, evident that it had seen some use. He lithely moves to retrieve some food and water, limiting himself to a piece of flatbread initially - picking at it slowly. Replying to the lady's query "Our destination will come soon enough... though hopefully there will still be time for some excitement along the way. I tire of trudging in the dust of bullocks and camels."
Omaz smiles at the odd looking girl, "The real threat will be scorpions in your boots, or small snakes. They love shady moist places so I advise checking them carefully before putting them on whenever you do."
Asanna's eyes go wide as she pokes one with a quick tap, "You don't say... I'll be extra careful to look through them thoroughly before putting them back on, thanks." She seems to keep one eye on the boots for the rest of the night as if trying to catch some arachnid or reptile in the act of befouling them.
"Hard to say, depends on the weather, and the pace. Though Garavel seems to know what he is doing." The kelishite gazes at the distance, his eyes speculative, "Why do you seek Kelmarane?"
The tiefling lose herself gazing into the fire for a few moments, watching their hypnotic dancing before turning her head up to Omaz and gazes at him with liquid pools of swirling color, maybe from the fire reflecting in them, and a sad smile curls one corner of her face, "I'm looking for someone. My big sister. Though I guess you can't really call her that, we don't share any blood but she did raise me since I was young. She might be at Kelmarane, or at least I hope. Really, really hope." Asanna lets out a heavy-hearted sigh as she goes back to fire watching, "How bout you? This little trip business or pleasure?"
Replying to the lady's query "Our destination will come soon enough... though hopefully there will still be time for some excitement along the way. I tire of trudging in the dust of bullocks and camels."
Asanna smirks at Gethric with his grace and poise, "A bit of excitement wouldn't be so bad. It helps break up the boring moments but becareful what you wish for as fate has an extreme love of irony."
The tiefling lose herself gazing into the fire for a few moments, watching their hypnotic dancing before turning her head up to Omaz and gazes at him with liquid pools of swirling color, maybe from the fire reflecting in them, and a sad smile curls one corner of her face, "I'm looking for someone. My big sister. Though I guess you can't really call her that, we don't share any blood but she did raise me since I was young. She might be at Kelmarane, or at least I hope. Really, really hope." Asanna lets out a heavy-hearted sigh as she goes back to fire watching, "How bout you? This little trip business or pleasure?"
"Family business, I suppose. A matter of heritage and hoping there are trails to be found." He touches his chest for a moment, then pulls his hand away, "I believe my family hailed from there but I was too young too remember."
Replying to the lady's query "Our destination will come soon enough... though hopefully there will still be time for some excitement along the way. I tire of trudging in the dust of bullocks and camels."Asanna smirks at Gethric with his grace and poise, "A bit of excitement wouldn't be so bad. It helps break up the boring moments but becareful what you wish for as fate has an extreme love of irony."
"Watch the sunset or sunrise in these open places, there is beauty even to the expanse,"Omaz looks wistful.
Drellik listens as the others around the campfire discuss their reasons for joining the caravan, and to their stated desire for excitement.
Excitement? How do they not see the excitement happening all around them? The animals hiding at our approach, the birds soaring overhead, the winds covering evidence of our passage as we move along.
Sighing, Drellik leans back onto the flank of a sleeping lion. Old enough to be called an adult, but young enough to lack a mane, the lion had caused Garavel to initially refuse his request to join... until Drellik patiently demonstrated his control over the creature. Even so, the cat was kept away from the horses as much as possible. The large beasts became wary whenever it strayed too close, and nobody wanted their transport to get spooked.
From his reclined position, he listens to the Kelishite's comment about the sun. Abrubtly deciding to be social, Drellik adds, "Spoken true, though I prefer watching them from the dunes to the south. The sunlight causes the sands to erupt in colors; bright blues and greens in the morning, reds and oranges at dusk. Aye, there is beauty..."
Realizing he said more than intended, Drellik closes his mouth, but nods slowly while looking deep into the fire.
The smell of cooking meat draws Barakus back from the edge of the camp. He pauses before the cook, almost as if he were waiting for permission to eat, before grinning and helping himself to the fare. Dropping to the sand closer to the fire he begins to stuff his face.
"Gnolls are exciting," he grins toothily.
Alem approaches the fire with a pear in one hand, a book in the other, and Kaspar the monkey perched on his shoulder. Overhearing the conversation, he sits, crossing his legs in the sand. "Fate has no love of anything. She is passive and uncaring as she does her duty. She keeps silent watch over us all, taking neither pleasure nor displeasure in mortal doings." Taking a bite out of the pear, he strokes his beard as he chews. "The Song of the Spheres is more apt to court irony than the Mother of Souls." The wizard opens his book, reading with the dying light of the day. Kaspar swipes the pear from his master's lax grip, chewing on a greedy mouthful.
A slight smile offered to Barakus, Gethric replies "More so when they lie dead by your blade."
To Asanna he scoffs "I was not sent to stand idle... I would prefer to wade to our destination harried upon all sides and leaving bloodied bodies in our wake than meekly trudge through the sand without any need for ardor"
Drellik watches the monkey gorge itself on the pear, amused by the creature's antics.
I have to agree, we are all judged at the end, but until then, I'll take all the luck I can get.
As Gethric responds to Asanna, Drellik asks him "If I may, to what end do you wish such action? Is it the thrill of combat that you seek, or the sense of victory over vanquished foes? Perhaps both?"
Omaz nods at the dwarf's comments about the sun on the dunes. The orc blood's reference to gnolls almost makes him laugh as whether you hate the beasts or not, they are exciting.
He grows content just to listen to the others for awhile.
Barakus tucks some food away for later, then draws an enormous falchion and sets to sharpening the blade while he listens to the others. His arms and armor are city issued, thought nearly antique. By the nicks and dings in the steel, it's clear they've seen their share of action. While he works, he hums an old Katapeshi work song under his breath.
Gethric turns to regard Drellik directly for a few moments, holding gaze with the Mul before replying "Both and neither..."
Drellik smiles, "Ah, a philosopher. Very well." he says before turning to stare back into the fire.
"Gnolls are exciting," he grins toothily.
Asanna tries to suppress a laugh that escapes regardless of her efforts at the half-orc's statement, "That they are, my friend. Toothy and dangerous beasts but if you had to roll everything that encompasses gnollhood into one word, exciting would work just fine." She goes back to letting her aching feet soak up the warmth from the nearby fire while glancing over at Alem and his monkey, "Fate and luck are all one in the same. Regardless, you never know what the next day holds in store."
To Asanna he scoffs "I was not sent to stand idle... I would prefer to wade to our destination harried upon all sides and leaving bloodied bodies in our wake than meekly trudge through the sand without any need for ardor."
Asanna taps one finger upon her chin as she visualizes Gethric's visceral description of his 'perfect day', "Now don't get me wrong, a good struggle against a worthy adversary is a pleasant afternoon's diversion, but I don't know if I'd much like having to strike down foes every foot of ground I wanted to cover and each step placed upon the gooey offal of the fallen. Sounds all together nasty and prone to disease from all those rotten carcasses."
"I'd swim through an ocean of dead gnolls if that's what it takes to get this job done."Barakus growls, half to himself. Realizing that it was aloud, he busies himself with checking the bolts for his crossbow.
Still reading, Alem chuckles. "Perhaps it is fortunate that such a bath should not be necessary. I imagine that bloodstains would be much more difficult to clean than dust and sand." He makes to take another bite, only to find an empty palm. Turning his head, he scowls at the monkey, who scampers off with the last of the pear still crammed in his mouth. "Bah! Curse that thrice-damned monkey!" Grumbling, the mage closes his book and produces a cup and small packet. Filling it from his waterskin, he places the packet within and sets it near the fire to warm it.
Gethric grunts at Asanna's words, but they do not elicit any further response.
After a few more hours everyone in the camp, gets ready to rest for the night. The night is cold but very quiet and calm. The next morning the caravan starts out early, to head to Sultan's Claw. A few hours after the caravan had set off there was a cry that the caravan had neared Sultan's Claw. Once over the next hill you all can see the site, the tree at the site had only five leafless branches, which caused it to look more like a skeletal talon than a tree. Going up the last hill you all notice another caravan of a half-dozen wagons and a large tent clustered around the distinctive tree comes into view. Camels in a nearby pen prance in agitation, and a clutch of confused goats and livestock wander the grounds around the wagons.
Looking more carefully you all notice that one of the wagons appears to be on fire. Lush orange and red flames engulf an elaborate wooden wagon emblazoned with painted moons and stars. A gout of smoke pours from an open door, and as you approach an ill wind blows a number of colorful fortune-telling Harrow cards from inside the wagon. As all of you are rushing forward to to help one of these cards catches onto Alem's chest.
As you all stop to see what had caught on Alem's chest you notice that card appears to have a Cyclone on it. Your eyes than shift back to the wagon you all see the Sultan's Talon bursts into flames.
The central flap of an elaborate tent flies open and a regal woman who can only be Almah steps out. “Douse that flame!” she shouts to the men surrounding the wagon before turning in your direction. “Ah, Garavel!”she says.“And just a moment later than the nick of time, as usual.” Looking specifically past her major domo and directly at the all of you, the woman barks out a simple order before running off toward the fire: “Find some way to help!”
It will take npcs 10 rounds to put out the fire. For each pc added it lowers this by 1 round. A PC can make a str check to lift a water barrel to put the fire out in one go.
A str check is needed to move the wagon, there are four mercenaries already attempting this.
Heal Checks.
Handle Animal Checks.
"Hut Hut..." Omaz attempts to guide and then calm the animals , "Ssshh shh easy, little friends, easy."
[dice="Animal Handling"
Drellik hurries to the injured men and attempts to help them:
Barakus runs to the mercenaries at the wagon, bellowing"On three you dogs, 1-2-3!"
Asanna rushes forward to join the water bucket line, not shy of getting near the fire as she throws bucket after bucket of water into the burning inferno. When it seems that it is taking too long, she rushes toward the water barrel as time seems to slow down only for her. The future streams out in her vision, shapeless moments throughout her own life that weave together into a vast tapestry that flows out into the void. She takes merely a moment to pluck a strand of the tapestry, carefully wretching the moment from time as she feels fleeting strength surge through her muscles.
With a grunt, Asanna wraps her small arms around the barrel and heaves with all her might. She grunts in futility before collecting her breath and reaching back into her future again, removing another strand of her tapestry. Asanna rubs her hands dry before gripping the barrel again.
Gethric leaps into action, following Barakus towards the wagon and straining to see it moved...
Strength:
Alem pulls the card off his chest, staring at it for a moment. Suddenly remembering the blazing fire, he tucks the card into his sleeve and approaches the wagon, getting as close as he can without blistering his skin. Kaspar hisses and screeches and bounds away, climbing up the skeletal tree to watch from safety. Raising his staff in one hand, the wizard begins to incant a spell, hes free hand weaving a pattern in the air. Suddenly, the air becomes thick with freezing motes of ice and a chill wind erupts forth, blasting the fire with frost.
The fire appears to be going down, still seems like more work is needed to finish the job.
With a mighty pull the group manages to pull the wagon away from the fire. The mercenaries seem to be very impressed at this feat.
Drellik rushes to the injured to find a red-headed halfing tending to one of the injured the other injured person who is a female seems to be badly hurt. It seems to you that the cleric is having his hands full with just one patient. You go work on the untended patient and save her life.
Your words do not seem to calm the animals down any.
With the wagon safely out of the way, Barakus runs to lend a hand to the bucket brigade.
Seeing the wagon pulled safely from the flames, Gethric surveys what remains in danger. As the wounded are being tended and some of his companions are tending to the flames... Gethric settles his mind upon attempting to quell the animals...
Handle Animal (Untrained):
...though his lack of familiarity with the task renders any assistance he might offer moot.
Drellik rises quickly, looking toward the fire. Seeing several people rushing to help, he turns toward the animals and attempts to calm them.
Omaz feels a bit embarrassed as the animals are extra stubborn, and shoots the druid and dervish a grateful look.
He follows Drelik's lead
Repeating the incantation, Alem focuses his spell on the rising steam.
After much struggle Asanna finally manages to lift the barrel and pour it onto the fire.
You all seem to not to be able to calm the animals but with the fire being put out they seem more calm than there were before.
Alem:
Asanna:
Barakus:
Drellik:
Gethric:
Omaz:
After the fire is put out the woman has the group gathered before telling her thanks. She than turns to Garavel and has him enter her tent to speak.
Drellik takes the chance to speak with the halfling healer, asking if he needs any more help caring for the wounded.
If possible, Drellik would also like to check on the patient he tended, making sure she is on her way to recovery.
Alem approaches the burned wagon to inspect it for anything that may still be inside.
"Any idea what caused the blaze?" Barakus asks the group of mercs he assisted with the wagon.
"I was wondering about that myself."
Eyes narrowing at the woman's back as she departs Gethric mulls One wonders where her ire is directed... His first port of call is where the wounded are still being tended, assisting the halfling woman who is tending them. While acting as her aide, Gethric asks after her name, and also that of the others.
Diplomacy:
Heal (Aid another):
Asanna flips the empty barrel on its side as she takes a seat, temporarily tired from moving the full container. She wipes at a few smudges of ash upon her skin as she watches the camp and the people.
You all see sooty ashes, a few broken bottles or potion vials, a cracked nonmagical crystal ball, and several pools of melted wax where candles must once have stood. While looking through the wagon.
You both notice a member of the party, lurking a short distance away, watching you from behind the corner of a nearby wagon.
Father Zastoran is busy with his two patients but both seem to be okay but are resting. As you try to speak to him Father Zastoran says "Thank you for your help but, I would like for them to rest so please can we speak outside?."
Omaz keeps his eyes out for any off road threats that might come in, playing the part of guard for now
The halfling leads you both outside before saying "I am Father Zastoran. Now than, what was it that you both wished to ask of me?" He appears to be a halfling to be almost of middling years and has the eyes of one that has seen a great deal.
You do not see anything out on the roads.
His curiosity piqued, Alem studies the lurking figure. Finding nothing of note in the wagon, he decides to approach them. "Hail, friend!"