Garavel thanks you all for accepting his offer and assures you that you will be rewarded in this life or in paradise. "We will leave at first light from the stables at the northern edge of town. Princess Almah will supply the camels and rations." He changes his glance to the halfling and says with a grin. "You can ride those foul beasts can't you? If not I can stick you in one of my grain sacks." Garavel adjust his gaze to the sky and settles on the blazing sun, "Don't be late, maybe we can get to our camp before the sun bakes us."
With that he waits to answer any questions and then slips away into the crowd.
'We're travelling by day?' Makin pipes up cheerfully. 'Will we have arrived before midday?'
He looks around him, taking in his companions. A Tian, a Varisian preistess of Iomedae, a spry little halfling and a warrior from further north. A interesting mix to be sure.
He smiles then turns his attention back to Garavel.
"Oh I can ride sire, I can ride. How long is the journey then?"
Garavel says and ends with a chuckle,"The journey will take 3 days as we will skirt around Fort Longjaw. They tend to be a little over zealous there and i don't want to get mixed up for a Gnoll."
The morning comes with a bright clear sky and a heat that will be stifling before the day ends. At the stable you find a stern looking Garavel ready to leave and not so happy with the delay.
He situates each of you with a camel and leads the makeshift caravan out into the rocky desert. The road is well worn for a desert trade route but you are sure in the right weather that it would cease to exist at all.
Just into mid afternoon you see a wooden stockade fort looming in the distance. As you get closer you see the proud red flag with a bleached white jawbone crossing a silver sword marking Fort Longjaw.
Garavel leads you a few miles past the fort to what appears to be a well used oasis. A few palm trees, some scrub brush and piles of trash and torn tent pieces adorn the ground. "We camp here tonight," he says as he begins to unpack the rolled tent section on his camel.
Makin rolls out the bed roll he had purchased in the morning.
'I'm Makin ibn Fahd, Chosen Child of the Stars and disinherited king of the ancient Kingdom of Lonkonshon,' he says with a grin drawing out the 'o' sounds.
He lays down, rolling a silver piece over his fingers, 'And who do I spend the night with on the dirt? Excepting of course our gracious leader Garavel.'
"Hello Makin, it's good to meet you," Vadoma says while spreading out her own bedroll. "My name is Vadoma, a priestess of Iomedae... if you couldn't tell." She flashes a smile.
"So what brings all of you on this trip through the desert?"
The small Tien man puttered about the campsite busily from the second that Garavel called a halt. He thoroughly inspected the perimeter, carefully brushing away any small insects in his path. Then, he poured a very small amount of water into a bowl, and put it at the southern edge of the campsite. At the northern side, he took sand and built a little mound.
"Water at south and mountain at north. Good feng shui for campsite," he said to curious onlookers with a smile.
However, as darkness fell, he stood quietly at the edge of the campsite, looking towards the gnolls. Many long grim minutes passed before he returned to the group. As he entered the light of the fire, his face was all smiles again. Whipping out a teapot from his backpack, he turned to his companions (including the one making strange overtures with a silver coin. He seems oblivious).
"Tea? Tea? Very good. Make chi balanced. Grow hair on chest!"
When he came to Vadoma, he grew serious at her question. "Bad demon hyenas in this town we go to yes? Every man has a duty to fight evil, restore balance to world."
Haldo the northerner studies Long-Shou's rituals with great interest. He smiles at the outlander's comments.
"I came down here for the coin," he says in response to Vadoma's question. "They there's good work for a sell-sword on the trade routes."
At the tea comment from Long-Shou Vadoma shows a horrified look on her face, looks away, and says "I think I'll pass on the tea... Maybe someone else will want some."
'I'll try,' Makin said bemused, still rolling the coin over his fingers.
'I'm a man of oppurtunity and chance, I'm looking for adventure and secrets. Though,' he smiled at Haldo, 'I wouldn't mind the coin either!'
'We're a two days journey to this Almah woman yet, I wonder how bad this Kelmarane problem is.'
"I'll take some tea sire, if you have extra"
Faysal looks around the campfire, unsure what he just got himself into.
"I've heard of this town from my studies. Just curious to see what time has done to it."
"I would assume that the problem is bad enough to have us go out there. In fact, while what has happened to Kelmarane is terrible, it is an opportunity for all of us. I don't care too much for the coin, but it is a good opportunity to hunt those "hyena-men" as our Tian companion calls them. As well as spreading the teachings of Iomedae.
"That said, would anyone like to hear some phrases from The Acts. I have a few short ones that could inspire us in our fight against the gnolls."
With this Vadoma reaches a runed-etched hand to the small pamphlet at her side.
"Think there'll be much fighting ahead? I'll do what I can, but it appears I've drawn the short end of the stick in this group"
His smile flashes briefly, but worried eyes flicker over his companions weapon.
Smiling at the halfling, he turns to Vadoma.
'Alas,' Makin raises a hand to his head, 'I am allergic to sermon, unless it is the 17 Acts of Mofinjin the Rotund and Likeable.'
'So, did gnolls destroy this village or was it something else and the gnolls just moved in, being scavengers?'
Looking at Makin, with a slight smile, "Very well. But if you do ever decide to listen, The Acts will always be here.
"What of you Faysal? Why are you heading to Kelmarane? Surely it must be more than simply to see it again!"
"Again? Nay, for the first time. With mine own eyes at least."
He smiles.
"Truth be told, as much as I relished the calm and focus of the cloister, a young man uch as myself needs to be out and about, lookin and doin. So call it curiousity if you will."
'Nethys, huh? Well it seems we have the gods on our side, what path do you follow my Tian friend?' Makin said looking at Long Shou.
"Many great gods in the heavens," said Long Shou contemplatively, "but my ancestors watch over me." He pours tea into teacups and distributes them. "Your ancestors watch over you too. You see them in reflection in deep water. Or hear them in tree leaf sound." He then sits and whips out a pipe from a wide sleeve and lights it. "Money, adventure, duty...many different reason. We here together now, that mean we are team, yes?"
'Absolutely,' Makin smiled and tried his tea.
"Mmmm. This is good tea. But I'm more of a ale and wine man."
"Would that Irori'd gift me with the power to make ale in the Desert. Water will keep a body on it's feet, but ale makes the soul sing."
"Hah! You sound more of a dwarf than a halfling Faysal. Are you sure you aren't just a skinny short dwarf in there?" says Vadoma with a large grin on her face.
'If it got us a trick to sharpen the tea with, I wouldn't mind being a dwarf myself!' Makin smiled drinking the piping hot tea gently.
Grins
"I wasn't always a memebr of a holy order..."
The sounds of fighting and dieing carry through the desert in the early hours of the morning. Garavel wakes for a few moments and says the troops of Ft. Longjaw must be about cleansing the desert with blood.
The night passes uneventfully but the sounds of the fight leave you uneasy. The morning breaks early and the caravan packs up and heads north.
Makin wraps his head in a turban under the sun, the heat however does nothing to dry out his tongue and he begins telling an 'unlikely' tale of the land of Kanarasi and how a simurgh had carried him there to be it's king, he speaks clearly but not loudly, leaving the tale hanging in the air as the sun rises in the sky.
Faysal rolls up his blanket, and then begins his morning rituals. His arms and legs become a wild flurry of movement, his whole body twisting, jumping, tumbling in time to some inner drum. Gradually, his movemnts slow to soething more measured and stately, but still with purpose, as he chants low under his breath. Finally he comes to a time of absolute stillness, standing on one leg, the other drawn up across his body, hands pressed together in the traditional form of supplication, eyes closed against the dawning day. Finally, he reopens his eyes and smiles.
"So, we have any tea left?"
"We will stop in a minutes ahead. There is a small ruin along the road with enough room inside for us and the camels. It will afford us some safety out here in this dry place.", says Garavel over his shoulder.
For Makin ibn Fahd:
For Makin ibn Fahd:
** spoiler omitted **
@xyro
Makin settles himslef in a catlike manner on his camel's back, enjoying his own tale, even if his companions don't share his enthusiasm
For Makin:
For Faysal:
All of a sudden the air feels still but cooler.
'Look!' Makin suddenly lurches forward stopping his storytelling.
'East, I think its a duststorm!' He begins wrapping a piece of cloth over the lower part of his face in addition to the turban for some small manner of extra protection.
Long-shou, who was busy mumbling rapidly while rubbing a string of prayer-beads, looked up at Makin's words. He swiftly scrambled up on top of the camel, who grunted in protest, and looked out at the desert.
"No dishonor in retreating from the mighty earth and wind. Let us make quick to ruins!" he said, also pulling out a piece of cloth to cover his mouth.
The northern mercenary follows suit, covering his head and face with cloth.
"I don't know which I hate more, a storm with rain or a storm without."
Faysal quickly wraps a scarf around his head, grips the camel's saddle, and tries not to look too worried.
"Rain. I prefer rain."
Vadoma looks around worried. "What's going on?" As she says this she notices that her companions are pulling scarves over their faces and she does as well.
"I have a bad feeling about this, does anyone see any gnolls about?"
Looking at the anxious face of the halfling, the Tien man reaches into his bag and pulls out his large, and very heavy, coil of rope.
"Ninety-nine foot of rope! Very good feng shui number!" he shouts over the sound of the rising wind. He throws the knotted end of the rope (perhaps to make the 100 foot rope into 99 feet?) to Makin, and gestures for him to pass it on. He ties the other end to his saddle.
Garavel looks toward the storm and nervously back to the party, "We must hurry to the ruin. This appears to be a nasty one." With that he spurs his camel into a gallop as he tries out run the wall of sand closing form the east.
Makin grabs the rope and ties it to his saddle, leaving fifteen feet spare between himself and Long-Shou.
He tosses it next to Vadoma, then makes to spur his camel onwards.
Can someone make a ride check for me?!?!? +2 dex.
Faysal grabs the offerred rope and begins to cajole the humped beast to move faster.
"Vadoma, do they often attack during storms?"
Can someone make a ride check for me?!?!? +2 dex.
Thanks!!
Vadoma catches the rope and spurs her horse like the others.
"Faysal, I don't know too much about gnolls. But I have heard of raiders that use the desert sandstorms to their benefit. We best be careful."
'Keep together, we won't see each other once that thing hits!'
Makin shaouts as he rides his camel close behind Garavel's.
Faysal lowers his head, grips the rope tightly, and clenches his legs around the surging beast of burden. He mutters short prayer sunder his breath, eyes clenched against the flying grit.
After a wild ride to the ruin, you make it in just as the dust storm strikes bellowing over the walls and striking exposed skin like needles.
The ruin is of mud and stone wall that once surrounded a small family compound. The walls are a foot thick and 6 to 10 foot tall with several areas broken and worn away. The overall courtyard is 20 x 20 and there is a smaller hut in the corner nearest the open gateway. The hut is 10 x 10 and has an open roof and a small door.
Garavel dismounts his camel, which notes the storm and heads to shelter near the wall, grabs his canvas tent half and runs inside. Once inside he uses the tent to cover himself from the dust and wind.
Makin dismounts with his gear in hand and races into the building, drawing out his own tent covering and following Garavel's lead.
Despite the noise, he tries to shout:
'Lovely weather we're having,' then buries his head with a grin.
Haldo tries to set up a shelter as well. The stinging sand and sweeping winds make it almost impossible for him. There is so much about this strange land that this man from Absalom needs to learn.