The pugwampi corpse sags limply as its dead. On its body you find a small shortbow, 20 small arrows, and a handful or burnt harrow cards. Seeming proof that it was behind the carriage fire.
Dashki makes his way carefully over to where the Puwampi was hiding, and presses his face close to the ground. You can see his nostrils flare and his the way he remains perfectly still as his intense focus is laid on the tracks.
"This one was alone. Probably seperated from his group or maybe too stupid to find his way back to their home. I would not recommend hunting down that path. It will be long, dangerous, and I promise you small one that we will inevitably come across more."
It seems even Dashki has forgotten his threat to leave back to camp now that the job was done. He even has a look resembling relief on his face that you all were competent enough to help him catch one.
"Let's return."
-------------------------------
Back at camp, Almah is pleased with your succession of capturing a specimen, almost as the caravan drivers are happy to see Rombard alive and slightly well.
"Well done," Almash says, as she hands the corpse to one of her private guards, to show others around camp to watch out for these creatures. "I'm prepared to offer you all 200 gold pieces each for your employment, which includes a bit extra for this little errand you've just completed. What say you?"
Zoisa nods.
"At least we won't have to worry about prickles on the way back now that it's dead. Thanks again, Dashki."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
When they arrived back at the camp, Zoisa happily releases Rombard.
"Go on, little guy. Go frolic, you've earned it!"
Afterwards, listening to Almah's offer, Zoisa's big purple eyes light up.
"I say AYE AYE BOSS LADY, and thankyouverymuch!" she replies with an exaggerated salute.
"Such a princely purse is a welcome weight," Fawziya says with a grin. "My blade is at your service - should another dilemma present itself to you, I shall do what is in my power to remove it!"
Seyhannah's widened eyes give away her surprise at the offered amount. She accepts before Almah has a chance to change her mind. Looking at her companions a thought occurs to Sey and she steps forward with something to add. "Boss, I would just like to add that Dashki was very helpful with identifying the culprit. I believe you had already hired him. You may want to consider a bit of a bonus for him as well. "
Alem is momentarily stunned speechless, astounded by Lady Almah's generosity. He bows deeply, grateful for such a reward. When Master Hassan had sent him to serve Almah in his place, Alem had not considered that he would be paid for his service. Despite being a slave, Master Hassan had always made him comfortable, but this would be the first time that Alem would have something that he could truly call his own. "Mistress Almah, you humble me with your gift. It pleases me and my master that I may serve you faithfully."
Almah hushes away your thanks and compliments. Not that she minds it, but with such delays that have already occurred, business is on the forefront of her mind. And she notes Seyhannah's note about Dashki's assistance.
Almah orders Garavel to hand out the party's payment now, as you all have proven yourselves to be determined, hardworking folk.
In celebration of their success, Alem invites everyone to join him for a cup of coffee. He takes up a spot near the campfire where he sets a kettle to heat and begins grinding beans for the brew. Alem had a particular liking for coffee. The strict, almost ritualistic preparation process was similar in many ways to alchemy, but the result was wholly unmagical in nature. Roasting raw beans and grinding them to a coarse powder, heating water to just below boiling, steeping the grounds and filtering them - coffee was nearly a potion when all was said and done.
Alem smiles as he passes around cups of the finished brew to any who care to join him. Taking his own cup in both hands, he inhales deeply, sighing with satisfaction. "I love coffee," he says to everyone and no one in particular. "Its flavor is so rich and bold, but bitter. Much like life itself, I have always thought." He takes a measured sip, savoring each drop. He continues to share his meditations on coffee with the others between punctuating sips as they all enjoy the beverage. "The bitterness cannot be separated from the luxury - they are entwined. What would one be without the other? Wine is indulgent and lacks the bitterness, but it dulls the senses. Coffee instead fortifies the mind, and it is the bitterness and trials of life that make us strong."
Seyhannah thanks Alem for his brew and hovers over it staring at the steam slowly rising from the liquid. Inhaling the hot moisture as though it was fresh morning air.
Her reverie interrupted by Reu's question addressed to Alem, Seyhannah's attention now focused on the interesting magic user.
Like Reuleaux and Seyhannah before her, Fawziya gratefully accepts a cup of coffee from Alem, listening to him extol the virtues of the drink. She looks as though she is about to reply to Alem when Reuleaux speaks. Intrigued by the question, she sips at the dark brew thoughtfully, listening for the mage's response.
Alem looks up from his coffee at Reuleaux, his indulgent smile replaced by an expression of pensive contemplation. "New trials arise with the dawn, do they not? There is not one grand hardship that, once overcome, will shelter one from misfortune for the rest of one's life." His look turns darker as he remembers his past, casting his gaze back into his coffee. Kaspar, scampering about and playing with anything that would pay attention to him, perks up, his antics suddenly subdued.
"When I was but a child, gnolls came to my village. They killed many, and those they spared they took for slaves." Alem takes another sip, wincing as the bitterness of his memories is reflected in the drink, but a smile begins to play at his lips as he looks back up. "But as a slave I came to my master's household. Master Hassan taught me many things, and I have lived a very good life. If not for the gnolls, I might have grown to be a simple farmer or a herdsman in that village. By a trick of fate, I am instead a wizard's apprentice, and in time even mighty djinn will call me master and friend!["B] Drawing out his coin purse, he hefts the pouch of two hundred gold coins in his hand. [B]"And I have enough gold that I shall never go without coffee again!" The laughter has returned to his eyes and he raises his cup in a toast. "So you see? Bitterness and luxury, inseparable!"
Laughing, he turns the question back on his companions. "Now if any of us has experienced a truly great trial, I would think it to be Fawziya bint Abdul-Wali, the Scourge of the Desert!"
Zoisa takes her cup of coffee and slurps it down quickly.
"Eh, I'm no philosopher, Alem, but sometimes gettin' soft in the head's important too. I mean, coffee's profitable, but PESH is what drive's this land's economy! Plus it weaves visions through your dreams and for me...well...it's literally magic!"
She punctuates her statement by clapping her hands together and conjuring some more dancing lights, spinning them around the group to give Kaspar something to chase.
She quiets down a bit as the conversation turns REAL philosophical, and listens to what the others had to say.
Fawziya swallows a mouthful of the dark brew and grins as Alem sets her up for a story. "Indeed! Which of my tales shall I tell this evening? Ah, I know - the tale of my search for Al-Grahib, the foul necromancer that caused much consternation in Katapesh only a few years ago. There were many people seeking his head for the princely bounty placed upon it, but he had eluded capture - and those who failed to bring him in only became a part of his growing undead army. I was able to find him within the Lower City, and lay waste to his zombie horde with my blade. However, during the ensuing battle, he fled into the desert. So, of course, I followed. For three days and nights I harried his steps, closing the distance between myself and my quarry. Perhaps it was due to the lack of rest, but I missed that Al-Grahib was not alone in his flight, but had brought along a pair of ifrit bodyguards to protect him. Twins, if I had to make a guess. The two swordsmen brandished their khopesh blades in the full moon, and I challenged them to drop their blades, knowing full well they would do no such thing. They charged as Al-Grahib weaved magics to seal my doom. Though the two were well-muscled, it was clear that they were not well disciplined - I wore them out with my feints and parries, and struck them down once their limbs could not carry their swords high enough to block my strikes. It was then myself and Al-Grahib beneath that yellow moon, and while he called upon all sorts of blasphemous powers and eldritch energies, his magics were no match for my might. And so, Al-Grahib, the Blight of Katapesh, met his end upon the edge of my blade!"
There's a round of clapping from the dimly lit darkness and soon Miraim the mercenary and two other mercenaries emerge, one of them Zorick. You also notice its mostly Miriam that's doing the clapping. Zorick the disgruntled is eventually shoved forward by another of the mercs. He sheepishly throws five coppers in Fawziya's general direction. They sink halfway in the sand around her.
"Wonderful story," the unnamed Merc compliments. "So wonderful that Zorick feels he should pay for such a tale, hmm?."
It seems he is trying to save Zorick face by giving a convenient excuse for him.
"Odd that Zorick's tongue is still now, when it wagged freely not a day ago," Fawziya says as she reaches for the coppers. "But if he is satisfied with my tale, then I am satisfied as well."
Seyhannah smiles at the transaction. "Come you three. Welcome, join us and share our fire. We shall all be traveling together, better to know one another I say than be strangers. Sit. " Beckoning to the mercenaries Sey genuinely would like to put this entire incident behind them.
If the mercenaries sit Seyhannah will deliver a story of the adventure, hopefully embellishing the story just enough to make it both fairly accurate but entertaining as well.
Zoisa yawns a bit at Seyhannah's story, and waits until she's done to speak.
"Not bad Sey, though I think the part in the middle kinda dragged, that's a sure-fire way to lose interest. Just my opinion here, but the best way to get a story to spread is not to tell LITTLE lies in 'em, but BIG ones! Even if they don't think it's true, it's sure to get their attention."
She shrugs a bit.
"Dreams are a good way to get that kind of inspiration. Maybe you just need a little nudge to really get the juices flowin' like I did. I can hook you up with some great pesh if you want!"
The mercenaries sit. Miriam takes a place next to Fawziya while the Zorick sits a bit further away. The unnamed one introduces himself as Noka and takes a place by Zoisa. He seems friendly enough.
"Speak on," Noka encourages, as he waits eagerly for Seyhannah to begin the tale.
"Who, me?" Zoisa replies, fairly sure Seyhannah's story was over.
Zoisa shrugs as the others seem to ignore her.
Noka claps politely at Seyhannah's story's conclusion. Zorick barely stifles a yawn before getting pelted with a copper by Miriam.
You spend the rest of the night talking, drinking, and getting ready for the journey tomorrow.
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After a good night's rest, you all feel better than ever and ready to tackle the day. It doesn't hurt your pockets are bulging with advance payment. With preparations made, the journey begins. It takes the better part of a day, but eventually you arrive at an abandoned Monastery of St. Vardishal. It's odd to find yourself at what Almah is hoping to call a home base to launch attacks in less than a day when your journey with Garavel took several days travel.
"I need you all to go in and make the building is secure. If we can't establish a base here, we'll be floundering in future attempts."
Any preparations or things to declare?
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Zoisa claps and rubs her hands together at Almah's words.
"Alright! Urban exploration! Now I'm in my element! Hoohoohoohoohoo!"
She joins Reauleaux and Alem for the morning coffee and clove cigarette.
"So...any of you familiar with this St. Vardishal? Rolly, you're in the church, right?"
"You can count upon my blade, of course," Fawziya says, her arms folded. "Do we have right of salvage for this monastery?"
Alem studies the monastery from a safe distance, poring through his books for any mention of St. Vardishal that might inform their expedition. He consults with Father Zastoran in the evening to supplement his knowledge with the sage's.
Seyhannah looks excited to have so quickly arrived at the base camp. Wonder spreads across her face when she takes in the monastery. "May the light grace these halls once again soon. " Turning to Fawziya question. "I'm sure the church would be willing to reward us for any religious treasure of significance. I have been told they hope this expedition will give them a chance to return the monastery to functioning order. "
Wanting to make sure everyone was in top shape, Fawziya leads the way to Father Zastoran.
"Hmm...yes, I could help with that." Father Zastoran replies when asked about healing services.
"Part of my contract with this mission is to provide healing spells to my fullest capability....and if need be, you may purchase potions at a 50 percent discount."
He finishes the sentence with less enthusiasm than he began, but he shows you his wares, he has potions of cure light wounds, cure moderate wounds, delay poison, lesser restoration, and nonmagical holy water.
Fawziya's wounds begin to close and she feels right as rain.
"We are on the clock, but if you need some healing between forays, then be sure to call on me. We can't be protected if a portion of our protectors are dead."
Alem discovers that Father Zastoran does not know much about Vardishal, but there is a brief passage in one of his books that explained that he was a mighty warrior general said to carry the battle cries of all armies.
Reuleaux determines that the building is of decent construction, which shows as it still stands even after so long. However, he can spot a few areas where the ceiling has caved, and the lack of care can definitely be seen.
"A warrior saint?", Fawziya says with sudden interest. "Now that sounds like an afterlife I could get behind!" She thanks Father Zastoran for his magic, and she's about to leave when she notices a few flasks of holy water, and decides to purchase a vial or two, as well as some healing potions.
"I'm sorry, I don't really carry that sort of merchandise..." Father Zastoran answers to Zoisa, as he finishes his transaction with Fawziya.
"Perhaps one of the mercenaries carries that sort of unsavory tools."
Indeed, you find one of the mercs, none of the three you know by name. He offers to sell them to Zoisa at cost.
"It's my spare pair, and if mine break then I'm out of luck." he explains.
Will get the map set up soon.
Zoisa skips over to the mercenaries and smiles innocently.
"So...I've heard a rumor that one of you might have tools suited to my kind of trouble, and I was wondering if I might share some of my newfound wealth with you in exchange..." she says, vaguely waving off to the side.
After purchasing health care products from the caravan's priest Seyhannah is excited to set off to the monastary. She seems to have already forgotten the hours spent travelling. There is a fire in her eye that warns she will not be talked out of going this evening. "Come friends. This place yearns for the Dawnmother's warmth to graces its halls once more. "
Alem is hesitant to set out so late. "Perhaps we should rest for the evening. I will require a night's rest before I can prepare the proper spells for this errand."
"Al, didn't we get a few nights sleep already? I'm pretty sure it's been at least a day since the pugwampi incident," Zoisa calls over her shoulder.
Alem waves away Zoisa's objection. "I have many spells at my disposal, but I must pick and choose them carefully to ensure they are matched to the trials of the day." Gesturing with his staff, his arm sweeps across the horizon at the monastery. "Who knows what could be lurking in such a place? It is sure to bring its own challenges, different from those of the road."
Looking out at the structure's darkened silhouette, he strokes his beard in thought. "Though perhaps a short trip may be appropriate, for the purpose of scouting?"
"Oh, right. Yer a wizard, Hassan!" Zoisa replies, smacking her forehead in mock shame.
"Never figured out how you got magic onto paper. It's all here, in your head, you know? I know the pesh helps me get it out, but what'd that old man teach you that I couldn't get?"
Zoisa shoots Reuleaux a quizzical look as he says something cryptic from seemingly out of nowhere..
"What are you talking about? Don't wanna waste any more of the boss' time by keeping her waiting."
She turns back to the mercs.
"Which is why I suppose I should drop the pretense for the moment. Do any of you fine folks have some thieves' tools I could borrow? Or better yet, buy?"
Reuleaux puts the finishing touches on his disguise, and Zoisa buys the thieves tools at cost as offered previously by the merc she tracked down. Seyhannah stocks up on potions and Alem chooses his spells wisely.
Everyone ready?