Fahada will volunteer to take the man back to the princess, her blade pressed firmly to his kidney area so as to discourage him from running.
Fahada leads Dashki over to Almah's tent, where the lead guard steps away from the rest.
Looking Dashki up and down, he says "Found yourself a rat did you?" He gives one of the other guards a hand signal, who disappears into the tent, and emerges in tow behind Almah.
She walks over, looking at Fahada out of the corner of her eye, but her attention solely on Dashki. "What is the meaning of this? Why is my desert hunter bound, and a blade to his side?"
------------------------
D'witt finds numerous tracks that are clearly not human criss-crossing the campsite. They all enter the camp, and then lead over to the animal pens.
You're able to make out 2 distinct individual sets of tracks.
"The others think he might be responsible for the fire. Gravel said to bring him to you."
Perhaps we should wait for Fahada to form a larger group before going after whatever formed these tracks. However this only proves that there was some external interference. Let's see if they lead to the burnt wagon
Deridia crouches inspecting the tracks awaiting to see if they will end up splitting or not
As long as the tracks are good and fresh waiting a few moments should not matter.
The tracks were made within the last 2 hours. They split up, then converge once more, heading over to the animal pens.
--------------------------------------------
"They say...so you don't share in that theory?" Almah asks. She motions to her guards, who come to relieve Fahada of Dashki.
"I didn't have anything to do with that fool's death!" Dashki reiterates.
Fahada shrugs, "I wasn't there to witness the event, and neither were they, so who can honestly say. I know that my companion, Ragznor, has said that not only did she see this man use some sort of magic to... project an image of himself, but that he seemed content to stand by and watch the fires burn while the rest of the camp rushed around to do what they could to help."
"One of the young men around here said that he thought it might have been an accident, as the two that survived the fire were seen heading behind the wagons with a lit lantern - which they dropped at least once - while groping one another. The two survivors though, seem to have no clue how the fire started and did do what they could to help, getting themselves badly burned in the process. Perhaps it was an accident?"
"What are these pugwampis, exactly? I've never had the chance to skewer one myself."
Deridia shrugged at the question I guess we'll find out when we get to meet the owners of those tracks. Ragznor?
My mother told me of the warriors who went out into the desert, hunting prime grounds for food. When they arrived, their good luck at finding lush grazing sites was washed away by the pugwampi--gremlins who have the ability to cause bad luck for anyone around them. You must understand that these were always that stories for children. But behind every long tale is a bit of truth.
"Bad luck? Ha!", the warrior-woman scoffs. "These creatures will need more than luck on their side to prevail against me!" She taps her foot impatiently, waiting for Fahada's return.
D'witt crouched by the tracks and rubbed his chin. The tiefling looks up at Deridia and nods in agreement. "These are only a few hours old." He glances between Fawziya and Ragznor as the sand witch reminisces on old tales and chuckles. "I have to agree with Fawziya. One makes their own luck."
as I said they were stories told to children but though luck may not have anything to do with it if they sabotage things to begin with.
Looking at the others with a grim face.
we should be off quickly what is keeping Fahada.
t is the gods that decide the fates of men, not some silly pugwampi. Deridia says slightly annoyed. Let's wait just a couple of minutes. If she's not coming then we'll continue our pursue. We can't let these gremlins roam around this camp so easily.
Flex Time with Almah
-------------------------------
"It seems far-fetched that Dashki had anything to do with Eloias' death. Rubbing at her temples, she is distracted by Dashki talking once again about the pugwampi.
"A race of gremlins who dispatch bad luck like the winds blow sand?" Pondering it for a few moments, Almah motions her guards to let Dashki go.
"If he's correct," she says, "the hills around here would be crawling with these pugwampis, or at least a sign of their passing through. Being such an expert tracker, it should be easy for him to find one and bring it back to me."
Almah turns to Fahada. "As he is, however, our best suspect in this affair, it would not do to send him out into the darkness alone. I'm afraid that your investigation is not yet at an end. Go out into the desert with Dashki and find me one of these pugwampis."
Without another word, she turns, and heads back into her tent. She pauses for a moment, watching the black-haired man, then heads inside.
Fahada feels as if there is something off between the interaction with Almah and Dashiki but cannot quite put her finger on it. She resolves to discuss the conversation, in private, with her companions. "As you wish, my lady." Fahada offers a brief curtsy before escorting Dashiki back to the others. She does not take her eyes from the man, and warns him, in no uncertain terms, that she will not hesitate to kill him if he tries anything foolish.
Fahada returns to the group with Dashiki, "The Princess is unconvinced of his guilt, but as he is the best suspect, she has asked for us to continue on with Dashiki as he undertakes tracking and retrieving one of the pugwampis, to return to her at her command."
D'witt says nothing as Fahada returns with Dashki, despite his curiosity. He raises an eyebrow when the rogue delivers their orders. "Well then, we should move quickly. They may have shorter legs, but they a devils' head start."
He looks sidelong at Dashki, gestures with his hand and smirks. "Lead the way, after all, 'age before beauty'."
Garavel comes over to Dashki, retying the bonds around his wrists, and giving him about 10 feet of rope.
"Lead on, worm," Garavel says, flicking Dashki on the back of the legs with his riding crop. "It seems this new group has some trackers of it's own, so no monkey business."
Dashki and Garavel start off, the black-haired leashed man dropping to all fours, looking like a dog on a leash.
Fahada deliberately walks slow, allowing Gravel and Dashiki to pass ahead of her. She gestures quietly to the first of her companions to make eye contact with her, beckoning them to her side so that she make speak quietly to them.
Ragznor moves closely to Fahada upon her silent request
In hushed tones she speaks to Ragznor, "I might simply be imagining things, but it seemed to me that something was wrong with the way the Princess responds to this man. I can't quite place what it is... perhaps it is just that she seems to fond of someone who should be so lowly to her... or that she listens to what he has to say far to easily... I'm just not sure. You say you saw him using magic. Is it possible he has some sort of hold over the Princess?"
Fawziya walks closer to Fahada as Garavel and Dashiki heads onwards. "Fitting that that one be leashed as a cur," she remarks after listening to Fahada's story. "I have difficulty believing that magic would come easily to one such as he. He bears watching - I feel his betrayal of us already." She grips her banner tightly, and her knuckles whiten with a sense of grim purpose.
Deridia looks surprised when she sees Dashki back and it took all the her willpower not to scream in protest. She draws her weapon and but doesn't use it keeping it prepared for the case the tracker would decide to run.
Let's see if you are good at tracking these monsters or if you are just claiming it. She doesn't say anything else and just fallows the others with anger burning in her eyes.
In response to Fawziya, "Then is it possible, would you think, that he is not who he claims to be? Could he be a man of higher import, disguised as such with the Princess' support?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Fawziya regards the filthy man being led around as though he were one of the dogmen he identified with. "If that's the case, he's a master of disguise. I suppose anything's possible, though. I'll keep an eye on him, and if he tries to turn on us..." She falls silent, but pats the hilt of her scimitar.
D'witt follows behind, bringing up the rear. His hand ready on his pistol handle he keeps his eyes open for signs of trouble or any sign that Dashki may be leading them astray.