Aardvark's "At Least It's a Dry Heat" Dark Sun Campaign (Inactive)

Game Master Troy Malovich

Since you’ve tied together what you know of your mentor’s disappearance, granted to you in your sleep, you have been aimed at your destination. The large city-state of Urik looms ahead, like a beacon of finality. As you near your heart races and your thoughts spin about what you will do to the men that had taken Oasir away. Thoughts of vengeance run through your frame, tensing your muscles, clenching your fists and jaw, eyes narrowing to those of the hunter. Nearing the gate, lorded over by two hulking Half-giants and three of Hamanu’s minor templars, your thoughts come back to the now. You realize that first you have to find the men that did it, and then figure out how to get to them. There are still so many questions that need answers, but you first have to answer the one just given to you.
“What’s your business in Urik.” The forward templar asks. It is difficult to tell if he’s asking as the one with the most authority amongst the three, or as the one with the least.

The streets of Urik are very clean; at least as far as sun-baked sand strewn streets can be that is. Thanks to an associate of Akilina, a fellow merchant, you were allowed to enter as one of his slaves. Once inside the city Marakento, the merchant, set about his business in the usual manner letting you know to do what you needed and stay out of trouble. You could tell, by the way he said this last, that you had gotten as much out of his favor to Akilina that you would and you were on your own. At first it was a little rough, but after a couple days you had found an odd job or two to secure some food and water for yourself. For the nights you stayed in beggar’s palace, a den of rot and decay with half-crumbled walls and ramshackle hovels nestled in the back of the foreign quarter. This day your spirits were a little higher though. This day you had a lead on the mercenaries. You got word from an Elven scarf vendor, Tharelen, who knows a guy that claims to be in the know about all the groups that hire out of Urik. The man claims to be an ex-member of one of them, who now arranges jobs for them. You are waiting to meet him at a tavern in the Old District called the Kirre’s Horn. A man, or more accurately a dwarf, matching his description, three parallel scars running from his left eye and replacing the ear on that side of his head, walks up to your small table. With a gruff voice and an air of authority, he asks. “I was told you were the man, what was looking for me?”

Like any of your outings, this was a good day to be outside. Any day you are given trips to practice the hunt are good days, and worthy of the plans and diagrams that make the others so happy. The hunt would be better if you did not always get tied to the end of Hlanast the Slayer’s arm. He hunts well enough for an Elf, but whenever you get ready to take the prey, he holds you back with the pesky braid of hair. He does not seem to have been a good choice for a hunting partner, he doesn’t seem to like you, and always brags that he has trained well and could kill you without a care. He obviously is not focused on the prey. Other than the irritation of his presence, today was a good day to hunt. The little gusts kept the prey covering their soft wet eyes, and they would also often break off into small groups of one or two to duck in alcoves or in their hovels. One such pair split off again, a human female slowed by age and one of the little ones called Halflings whose legs could not outpace you. They were so unaware that they were even hunted, chattering away about the value of beads. Once they looked back, but there was no way they caught sight, as they did not try to lose you in the turns of the next couple passages. The chance was upon you, you knew this corner and they had walked into a long blind alley. Once they turned the corner, you would speed upon them and strike before they knew you were even there. As you tense your legs for the pounce, once again the Elf stops short, bringing you up lacking. After a quick reprimand in Kreen, which you aren’t sure he understands yet he always sneers when you do, the two of you head back to the compound. As you near the end of High Quarter, a man in clothing much like your superior’s, yet with much more useless baubles attached to it, strides out of the Templar District. He approaches Hlanast and shows him a placard with the symbol of your superior on it. “I’ll be taking ‘it’ from here, you can go.” He tells the Elf.
“I think I should escort her to wherever you are taking her, your Justice.” Hlanast suggests heavily.
In response the new man yanks the binding from off Hlanast’s arm, “I think I can handle it. It has only known the soft of the walls inside, so it doesn’t pose a threat.” At this he walks away pulling the braid behind him. He will make an awful hunter, with the way he stomps like a mekillot as he walks.
After a little ways he speaks, “DO…YOU… UNDERSTAND… WHAT… I’M.. .SAYING?” so loud a blind Kestrekel could find him. Mumbling afterwards “or are you just another stupid savage like the rest of your kind?”

Here it is, the walls of Urik climb out from the sands in tall straight lines, like mountains, but not like mountains all uneven and rocky, kind of like them tall and sturdy, almost like, well… walls. The faces of them covered in fantastical friezes of a great lion, demolishing its enemies, most likely the Lion of Urik, Hamanu himself. Not actually himself, per se, as they are just art, but like him in representation, but then again he may not even be a lion, most likely he isn’t. Who would make a lion a Sorcerer-king? The line you are standing in seems to be taking forever entering the gate, a caravan approaches, they have a long talk with the guards at the entrance, then they go through all their wares. Money changes hands, most of the time, at least most of the time that it moves quicker. The times that no money is paid seem to take forever, why would they stall them so long? Are they trying to find the money, or is it just to try and teach them a lesson for not having the money already? Once you get inside you’ll be able to find these raiders that you have hunted for so long. At least you were told they were here, most assuredly by the merchants each on a travois bearing inix, or it could have been the Half-elven crodlu trainer behind you. Nonetheless, you are certain that you’ve finally come to the right place. Only two more in front of you, then it’s your turn, at your eagerness you feel the sun’s rays filling you with its power showing you that supports your choice. The sun that has dealt with you harshly, but always looked over you. The sun that fills you with its radiant power, to show you that you are a vessel of its….. Why are they yelling, what’s all the fuss? Something must have upset the Templars at the gate. The merchants try to pull weapons from hiding amongst their howdahs, but before they bring them to the fore one gets his head crushed by a Half-giant’s club, as the other gets peppered by arrows from the towers above. As the battle quickly begins to die off as fast as it started, the second half-giant taking the reins of the inix, one of the Templars points at you and shouts, “You! Are you with them?” looking around you and behind you asking “Where are the goods you are selling?”

Despite its fearsome reputation as being strictly regimented and bearing the most powerful army, the city of Urik is actually not a bad looking place. Everything is laid out in neat and orderly rows, most of the buildings being built to the same dimensions. You could see, however, that over time it would probably become dull and drab, every street and alleyway looking like the one before it to the point of madness. At least it’s somewhere safe… well, safer, than the open wilds. Getting in was the easy part, all you had to do was tell the Templar some fireside tale of visiting your sister and her new baby. You looked innocent enough, and you’re certain the way the other one was looking at you that the question about which quarter she lived in wasn’t for security reasons as much as personal ones. Now that you are inside, you just need to find somewhere to stay or, as Quib would suggest, someone that you can sell a sob story to. Wandering the streets, looking for some idea of where to go from here, you hear a voice call out from your right side. “Hey! Don’t I know you from somewhere? I swear I don’t forget a face.” Looking over you see a man dressed in traveling gear, his head wrapped in the traditional wrap, and his eyes covered by the thin-slit goggles that are typically worn to protect the eyes from sand and sun. It’s the scar you recognize. The one that starts just under his eye, and runs to his jawbone, crossing his mouth where two teeth both on the top and bottom are missing, knocked out by whatever gave him the scar. He was in the camp that night; you remember the way he would leer as he subconsciously stuck his tongue out the four tooth window whenever he thought you weren’t looking. You see realization dawn on him, his mind sifting through the alcohol-jumbled memories came up with a face. “You’re the one that killed Galaro, and stole some of our spoils.” He grins, the leer returning “Oh, you’ll pay for that, I’ll make sure of it.”

Today was the day that you guys had planned for all month. The slave-breeder would be away for a week and you had an inside man to get you into the compound. There were at least ten slaves, composed of three young Muls, two dwarven studs and five human women. You and Calodas, your Half-elven friend from the grove, have been successful in the freeing of two other parcels of breeding slaves. Calodas is one of the few you have met that has been so adamant in helping your cause, claiming it to be from understanding the plight of the half-breed. This one has taken fine tuning and greasing a few palms, since it was a Templar breeder. Your usual tricks have worked up to this point, the secret entrance through the slave quarters, the disguises in their same hiding places, even the half-giant guard that likes you guys enough to always let you pass his watch post when he’s on duty. You’ve come this far, and all appears to be going better than expected. It is only a few more houses before you get to the compound, the whole of it as it was planned. You see it up ahead, and right on time the front gate opens. Out comes a hulk of a half-giant, one of the few things you can rely on to keep muls in line, he is followed by two Templars, though they look to be low in station. It is after these last two that the Templar slave-breeder emerges astride an impressive crodlu. He is followed up lastly by another half-giant, who pauses long enough to close the gate behind him before falling back in line with the entourage. Giving the group enough of a lead to get out of sight, you and Calodas head for the side entrance you were informed of by one of the Templar’s disgruntled servants. Giving pause enough to make sure no one will see you, you ease the door open slowly. Hanging on the inside of the door, is the beaten and bloody form of the same servant that told you of the entrance. Realization strikes like a hammer, you were discovered, and turning you now see that the group that had just departed were coming at you from different avenues. They had to split up to try and cover most of the escape routes, but they didn’t know about the one you were actually going to use anyways. There is a small opening into the back of another house’s yard that is too small for a half-giant, and you think you can get there before they reach you, but it might just be too late. Calodas turns to you, sadness in his eyes and you know it’s not for himself, “I’m sorry we did not free your people. You go, get as far as you can; I will guard your escape.” At this he begins to change, his skin hardening to black chitin as his arms and legs multiply, the front two becoming enormous claws, while from his back grows a long segmented tail ending in a pincer. Before the change finalizes he adds, “I know by my sacrifice you will be able to come back and free them at another time.”

Looking up at the dwarf Averel says "Yes that would be me. I would like to get some information on a group of mercenaries that use a bloody claw symbol. Could you give me that information?" Looking at the dwarf closely Averel starts to assets how dangerous he is a left over from his years of training.

"With them?" Morthak looks around, side-to-side. "Where? I don't see them! I am here to find them, and pay them justice for stealing my family. But I am certainly not with them!"

At the mention of goods, he squints at the half-giant. "I have no goods. I am not a merchant. I am... Morthak."

Calodas you fool we could've both made it.

Xanyon flees through the yard, making good his escape.

Who betrayed us? Who has cost Calodas his life? I'll need to track them down. Perhaps they will only imprison Calodas, I can try to save him.

We'll need to free these slaves. Two half-giants and three templars. What other defenses does this place have? I need a planner for this. Calodas was always good at this.

Calodas you fool

"You are understood," K'z'k replies. "But Master would not appreciate his servants being called stupid savages. Do you think Hlanast is that stupid?"

K'z'k otherwise falls in line, mentally noting how this new one is added to the diagram. He seems rather prey-like, despite waving the clutch-identification. What does this mean?

Anton looks at the templar, the sight of his uniform adding fire to his hatred, thinking I've come to kill you and your brethren...

Rather than answering, he raises a finger asking the Templar to wait, coughs and rinses his mouth with water, buying himself some time to take a breath. He then spits the water into the sand, and puts the near-full skin away, delaying his reply further.

"I am a simple traveler who comes to the great city to trade for supplies... and hopes to spend some time with a childhood friend I have not seen in years."

Galoro? Was that his name?

Sinorei sized up the man. She preferred not to fight if she didn't have to.

*He could be useful, although he doesn't look too pleasant* Quib's voice resounded in her thoughts, always willing to offer guidance.

"Killed?" Sinorei sounded genuinely concerned.

Best to think quick here

"Galoro was attacked, but not by me." She hoists her longspear. "This is more for show, do you really think I could kill him?"

Bluff 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (1) + 11 = 12

"What you say is true, as I fled I grabbed what I could. Would you do any less?"

Sinorei smiles at the man.

Diplomacy (to adjust from Hostile to Indifferent?) 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24

As you finish your request the Dwarf lets out a loud bellowing laugh, which at first surprises you. Looking around you see that no one seemed to even notice and that the noise of the tavern itself was enough to not draw too much attention. "You want me to GIVE you information?" he chuckles a little more, "What'd you do, fall off yer crodlu onto yer head?" Getting his demeanor back he asks, "I may just know of who you speak. Whaddya needing 'em for? You have a job what needs doing, or you lookin' to join 'em?" His eye narrows in scrutiny in await for your response.

At his response the Templar looks confused for a bit before he tries to straighten out the responses. Pointing to the men that just got killed, he asks "You want to pay justice to these men? They stole your family?" pointing again to the dead for emphasis. "If they were who you were after, why were you walking next to them," clearly confused now he adds, "and if you have no goods to sell, why are you trying to come in the Trade Way?"

Just a reminder, since I did not make it clear before. I'm not saying you have or will, just that I wanted to make it clear in case it ever came up, but CN isn't carte blanche to act CE or NE. I see you playing, based off your story, as if he just doesn't quite know delusion from reality sometimes.

Averel looks the dwarf in the eyes than says "I had heard that they were some of the best around. I am pretty good myself and looking for work. As for the reason I asked you to give me information was because I had also heard you were the best man to talk to for work." He than thinks over what he said hoping that he did not say anything wrong since this was a good lead.

You dart through the paved courtyard, up the lattice to the roof of the first story. You climb a window opening to reach the top of the second story. From this height you can make out signs of the fight back in the roadway. The path you were to take from here can also be seen. Following it through the blinds and winding streets it will take you along a circuitous yet non-visible route. A few times you are shown just how careful the plan was, as a small patrol passes your position, none the wiser. It is when you get to the gate than things go awry. The half-giant that helped you is being taken into custody, and a set of guards is being positioned on the gate.

He scoffs at your question, "Hlanast is stupid enough to go from being a well-known Kreen slayer, to an unheard of Kreen herder." He shakes his head, and turns to walk a bit further. Before long he turns around and adds, "That man you call master is your master no more. You belong to me, and I will do with you what I please. You will call me master now." His eyes gleam with a eerie glint of stolen opportunity.

As you take the swig of water, the Templar narrows his eyes at you, but when you spit it out he scowls at you incredulously. "What are you, sun blasted? What kind of 'simple traveler' just spits out his water?" his eyebrows lift in understanding "Unless, of course, you have too much weight in ceramic bearing you down. Why else would you be spitting your water, if not to lighten your load?" He asks pointedly.

He squints as he processes your response, taking longer than it should, as he looks you up and down. His sight, of course, stopping at the obvious spots. It seems though that those stops worked only to cloud his vision. "Naw, you couldn't have dropped Galaro, he was a tembo that one. You're just a woman, running from somthing tough enough to take him out. Running is understandable." he reasons with himself. "So, since you are all alone, do you need someone to look out for you?" he suggests, stopping to look again at his preferred 'decision points' while he pokes his tongue out of the gap in his teeth.

K'z'k looks around. "Does this mean the practice is over now?"

This is bad. We've been betrayed, but revenge won't do me any good if I can't get out of this city.

Xanyon will begin looking for alternative routes out of the city. He'll start by heading to the market or an area where many strangers come and go every day.

Anton tries not to smile at the guard's comments. Men tend to focus on wealth rather than the person bearing it... Now, I just need to keep the right balance... Besides, men such these couldn't accept the simple fact that Athas herself gives me all the water I require...and it remains better than they don't.

"I would not say that I am 'weighed down' by the coin that I carry...", he trails off slightly, making sure the guard's interest remains, "...however, I might need to lighten my load slightly here, just to help ensure I am not overburdened in the markets."

Sinorei pauses for a moment, realizing the man is about as attractive to her as a sand howler.

She wasn't sure she had a lot of choice. If he was about in Urik, likely other members of his camp would be, too - and she wasn't interested in repeating this whole process each day as she was recognized.

*And I know you won't change your appearance, you like the advantages you know it's bringing you - just like I told you it would.*

She didn't reply to the crystal, it knew what she was thinking.

Sinorei swallowed the bile that had risen to her mouth at the thought of the man and responded. "Yes, I could use someone brave as yourself to accompany me ." She forced a smile.

"I can't seem to recall your name?"

As they begin walking, she will also ask about how he came to Urik and what happened to the other men of his camp.

EDIT - Forgot to add the +1 trait bonus, made a DC25 for the Diplomacy check last post!

Yeah, I agree with you on the alignment part. I see the "neutral" part to mean he's not actively trying to forward any "good" adjenda, and he's not altruistic by nature. All the same, he's not cruel or malicious either. The chaotic part is more his freedom and waywardness... something lawful snapped when he lost it.

Morthak appears confused by the templar's questioning. "These men? Oh no! I am after the slavers who stole my family. I have nothing to do with this group here - I was just standing behind them in line!"

"I didn't know there was more than one gate. I followed the rest here. Where is the common gate?"

He smirks and nods as he realizes you two have begun to really get to the heart of the matter. "Well," he starts, licking his cracked lips "I know a full skin can really slow down a burdened traveler. We would be remiss if we didn't help you by bearing some of your weight. As Templars of Urik, it is our duty to look after the needs of those that seek comfort within her walls." The other Templar nods in agreement, as he eyes the weight of your waterskin.

The dwarf puffs out his chest at this last, "That I am Sonny, but flattery will not remove the grit from my throat." he adds an overdramatic cough and throat clearing to emphasize his point. "I may be able to tell you how you can get in touch with them, if we could discuss it over a mug of Broy, that is?"

The new master looks at you like you just grew a horn out of your forehead, "What practice? There is no practice. I'm not putting you in the pits to waste all your worth to me in some bad bet on a rigged fight." he shakes his head in disbelief "You are stupid. You just don't get it do you? I'm going to make you work for me, and if not I'll sell to someone who's willing to pay me enough to not have to put up with your filth." He finishes, frustrated by the conversation he tromps off once again yanking the braid along behind him.

The Templar looks at you with scrutiny, like he's trying to gauge whether you are messing with him, before he finally states "After slavers? All by yourself? Do you even know who they are or how you plan on dealing with them once you find them?" He leans forward putting weight behind his next statement, "Don't go thinking you can just come in and start killing whoever you please, we have laws in these parts. We aren't some lawless Raamites, wreaking havoc in their own city." He looks to his left and points, "Follow the wal to the west, then when it cuts north. The King's Gate is over that way. Don't forget, I got my eyes on you, so you better not go starting any trouble." he warns

A visible, yet disturbing grins crosses his face, accentuated by the big hole in his teeth where his tongue snakes in and out. "Well, they call me Adder." His pride beaming through at the dangerous nickname, but you are sure it may have had more to do with the flickering of his tongue than any danger he might pose. "Where were you headed? Do you have a place to stay just yet?" He asks all too eagerly, adding "How about we find us a strong drink to pass the time?" It is obvious that this is not the first time he's used this line of questioning on a woman.

Changing tactics appears to be the best course of action. If your plans were compromised then your only recourse is to change plans and go with what would seem counter intuitive to anyone looking for you. This can only mean going deeper into the city. Changing directions, you manage to cross a couple walled courtyards and fences, hopping from hidey-hole to alleyway every chance you get. Once outside the danger of the Templar District, you emerge into the High Quarter. The opulence put on display is angering. Here are people who grow fat off the work of others, while those very same laborers go hungry or thirsty from day-to-day. Walking around freely here is almost more dangerous than being hunted in the Templar District. Unless you are a house slave, or rich, you clearly don't belong.

Look around for any ready disguise options. Load to pick up, easy route out of here, etc.

Perception +5
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

Sorry for the rule change, but to maintain the idea of the world, I will have to limit the Create Water spell some more. I didn't think about the unlimited cantrips/orisons nature of PF rules. So I'm going to say that it can only be cast 1/day. It's crazy how powerful that 1 little orison can become here on Athas.

Right. Well, that might have changed my plans a bit... I was thinking not so much of infinite water, but more than a single skin per day. (One waterskin = 1/2 gallon, which is my creation limit because of the quartering of the spell effect). Ah well, I'm kind of committed now... c'est la vie.

Seeing their eyes on the skin, Anton smiles and nods. He reaches into his pouch and withdraws 3 ceramic coins (one for each), pressing them against his waterskin. He hands the nearly-full waterskin (and coins) to the templar that was questioning him. He then stands up somewhat straighter and says, "That feels better. Thank you kindly, Templar."

Nodding Averel says "Of course." He than turns to look for a barmaid or a server seeing one he calls over saying "A few mugs of Broy."

I am guessing that Broy is pretty much ale so would cost 4 cp per mug or 2 sp for a gallon.I do not if it is higher because of the lack of water.

K'z'k grows silent at the latest response. Now that her master has declared the practice for the hunt over, the time has come to look for prey in earnest. That braid will be a problem, though, and the new master seems awefully slow and ponderous. A good hunt will involve getting off this braid.

For the time being, she will follow calmly, and look for targets. Perhaps we are going to a better hunting ground?

*He's trying to...

I know what he wants!

*I'm betting he followed you and has been dreaming of this moment all morning...*

Sinorei gave Adder an uneasy smile. "It is my first time in Urik, I had hoped to visit the markets first. I haven't decided where I'm staying tonight but am open to recommendations."

Which was true, and bore a resemblance to an invitation.

She flashed him a smile, a reflex she had been practicing all the more often since she met Quib.

"You didn't say - what brings you here, and where are the others?"

She'll follow Adder for a bit and converse, however not to anywhere that looks like an ambush (an alley, a seedy tavern, etc).

"And King Hamanu has his eye upon all of us in Urik," Morthak laughs, before abruptly becoming serious. "I will mind your laws, templar, and if I locate these outlaws, I will inform your order so that they will feel the king's lash. But, if my family are dead, then only the sun's burning mercy shall save them."

Morthak leaves the line and turns towards the King's Gate. Something tickles his humor and he laughs again as he walks away.

Getting the skin, their eyes widen in delight, the coins a nice addition they quickly split between them. "We are eager to be of service. You are granted access to Urik, may Hamanu's power protect you." As they allow you to pass into the city, they wrest the skin from one another to take large gulps, quickly emptying the thing. You are now just inside the King's Gate, up ahead is a secondary gate that opens to a roadway with buildings on both sides.

Since I made the call after the fact, I'm fine with you having not cast it yet today.

An elven barmaid catches your order, and returns not long after with two mugs of watered-down broy, "That'll be eight bits."

As she walks away from the table the dwarf takes a swig with a grimace, before he continues. "That's better, now where were we? Ah, yes getting in with the one of the groups." He cups his chin in thought, before he continues "Here's what I can do, I will set up a meet for you. Their usual recruiter will meet you, at the front of the potter's shop 'The Day's Clay'. He's an elf, and will be standing to the north side of the building wearing a red scarf around his leg." he drinks more broy before continuing. "Now to set up this meet, I will need to bring them a buy-in. It will take fifteen ceramic, and that's where we get to the meat of it. I get a twenty percent meeting fee, so it will run you eighteen ceramic." He holds out his hand before you.

Broy: Broy is made from fermented kank nectar. Spiced broy and watered-down broy are also available. When served plain, it is potent and foul tasting. However, broy can be served warm and spiced with a pungent herb that disguises its sourness, as well as enhanced its enrapturing powers.

Walking through the city, led by the clomping oaf of a man his armor clattering and banging as he walks, you see suitable prey up ahead. There is a man hiding just past the corner inside the new region. He is in a small alcove, and looks to be peering out for some sort of object. As is obvious the man at the end of the braid appears to not notice the prey at all. Just then you see the prey find a load of clay bricks nearby, and load them on his back, before walking openly through the streets. This must be a form of camouflage, as most others seem to not be paying him much attention, but you easily see he has not changed. He soon falls in with a small group of others hauling bricks, lagging enough behind to either be a false member, or a weak member of the pack. As you walk with the new braid weilder, you seem to be falling behind the prey and it soon passes through the gateway into the next region.

The wall is easy to follow, it heads east for a bit before turning to the north. Following the wall, it doesn't take too long out in the baking sun to reach the gate you were told to enter. The line at this one is nowhere near as long as the previous one, and it doesn't take a long time until you get to the front, where you are questioned about your reasons for entering the city. "What's your business in the city-state of Urik?" you feel you may be going through the questioning once again.

Adder smiles at your question, and seems eager to respond. "There's a great little place we like to visit when we are in the city. The place is called 'The Kirre's Horn', they have drinks and rooms" the last word he emphasises, "all at a decent price." At your next question he seems a little more reluctant, "We are here on business, just a few of us. We will be staying a few nights and you are welcome to join us when we leave." his hopes brighten as he says so.

You look around briefly and see a few things you could try. There is a small group of women, but they would be hard to mesh with as would the team of elven house slaves. Your luck strikes, there is just inside the gateway between the districts, a team of brick haulers picking up a load. You are able to get close enough to grab a bundle and fall in line with the others. As you walk you manage to keep the load balanced across your back and shoulders, leaving a gap between you and the rest of the haulers so that you can cut out as soon as you find an opening. The group seems to be taking the load out of the High District into the Artisan Quarter. As you pass through the gateway, you get a sense that you are being watched.

If Xanyon could reasonably disguise his weapons he'd do so. If not he'll ditch them. Of course this isn't ideal but if necessary he'll think of something.

Perception +5
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

Is somebody watching me? Have I been followed?

Averel nods to the man "That seems fine to me. Thank you for the help. I will be sure to tell others looking for a job to speak to you." Averel than hands the dwarf the 18 ceramics.

Ok, cool. That certainly helps. Can I prep it more than once?

Anton lets his false smile fade as he walks toward the inner gateway, and into the City.
Now, to find news of Oasir.... I can't just go up to a Templar and ask where they keep their prisoners that they've been torturing for three years.... I am going to need to work my way to that information, and get it from less official sources.... or at the very least, learn who the right Templar is to... persuade to part with the information. Oasir had contacts in the city, but I never met them... and for all I know, they're the ones who sold him out.

He sighs at the thought..

After wandering the desert for three years, it seems almost unfair that I am just now starting my quest... but I must make some contacts... possibly even allies... and to do that, I will need blend into the city... to sleep indoors... and these things will require coin... something I am unaccustomed to worrying about.

Anton attempts to get his bearings as he walks, looking for street kids. Perhaps I can find a less than official guide...

"Well, I have nothing to do with them," Morthak replies, pointing at the people who were just let in ahead of him. "I am here in noble Urik to find my mother and sister, and to see that the slaver scum who took them are paid in kind."

He smiles at the templar, "How are you, this fine day?"

This master has ended the practice and begun the hunt, but he will never catch anything this way, K'z'k thinks. Perhaps he needs to be taught.

Surmising that the master will not simply let the braid go, and will be unhappy with it removed, K'z'k walks a little closer to give the braid some slack, then tries chewing through it, still holding onto the end and following him.

Sinorei wasn't sure what to do. Join the camp of thieves and murderers, or take her chances that she could lay low in Urik until they departed?

*Perhaps you should just join them, you could trade your gifts for food*

I hope you're talking about my powers...

The psycrystal didn't answer, but she felt it smiling back at her.

"I think I will take you up on Kirre's Horn." Sinorei stops moving as she eyes various ways to move in a different direction than Adder.

"I'm going to do some shopping first, I'll see you there."

She mentioned this last statement with confidence, as if there were no be no discussion whether or not he'd want to come along as a woman shopped.

There is strength in numbers, I only wish I could find numbers that I could trust more than Adder...

I'm gonna have to say no. It's easy to say yes to prepared spells due to it removing a slot, but there is no way to regulate it with non-prepared spellcasting. If it takes up a slot then as long as they have one they can always cast all other unlimited cantrips/orisons from that one leftover slot.

As you walk the streets you find that is unnaturally well kept. Yes there is the expected amount of city filth, but it is at a minimum. Even more so, there is no sign of beggar or urchin. It could just be that they try to keep them from the entryways, but you feel that based on the way they rigorously questioned everyone entering the city, that they might not suffer vagrants too lightly. Does it mean there won't be any, not likely, it just may be they know how to stay out of sight or out of trouble.

Up ahead on your right is a gateway to another section of the city, this one, though, is not laid out in neat lines and orderly rows. Also, most of the buildings here look older and of differing makes and styles. As you near you see an attractive young woman parting ways with her companion, a rough skeevy looking man.

As you slide the ceramic across the table, he tries to look casual as he places his own hand over it, looking around to see if anyone is watching before he scoops them up and desposits them into one of his pouches. "I'll pass the word along, the elf will be there in roughly five hours." He waits a little bit as he finishes his broy, and decides to pass the time in idle chatter. "So, from where do you hail? You don't look to have hit a rough life to turn to merc work. Most folk tend to come into it after honest methods failed them too often."

The braid rope is giant hair, and you know it has taken you a bit to get through the last few times. It's part of the reason they use giant's hir now anyways. After the first few times you chewed through, they decided that a tougher material is needed, but even then you had Hlanast always making sure you didn't chew on it. This new guy seems barely aware of himself, let alone what you are up to, he doesn't even seem to care that you are on the hunt.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13, Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16

Unfortunately, for you, it doesn't take him long to grow curious to why there is too much slack or why you are walking so close. He turns and notices you chewing, and jerks the braid away. "Trying to escape are you?" he growls "Well, that's not happening, you walk in front from now on, where I can see you. I'll tell you when to turn." As he's talking you see your prey turn down a side street, going further away from you. He turns, to look, the look of prey that think they are being stalked. He probably heard the noisy master.

As you mention the people entering Urik in front of you, the Templar looks back at them with a more intense scrutiny. It doesn't make sense, considering you JUST told him that you had nothing to do with them. He may have realized it, though, as he turns back to you, a quizzical look on his face. "So, you say you are here to pay the slavers that have your mother and sister? Are you buying their freedom, or taking them on as slaves? Or, is it a debt that you owe, and paying releases your family from ownership?" He asks, a seemingly over abundance of questions. "Do you know where to find the slave house that owns them? If you tell me the name I can probably tell you where to find them." He seems friendly for a Templar, but you can tell by his lips that he must have just had his water ration, which could explain it.

A smile, punctuated by his flickering tongue, crosses Adder's face as you mention staying at The Kirre's Horn. The smile fades not long after, as you mention not heading there right away. "Oh, alright, I will meet you there then." he gives you quick directions on how to find the place off in the Old District, before he begins to head that direction. He stops only a few paces out to turn and add, "When you get there, don't worry about your drinks. I'll buy you the first two rounds." this last reintroduces the creepy glint he gets in his eye. You could follow him into Old District and see what's there, or maybe find out what's at the end of the roadway, not going the same direction as Adder.

You think that beneath the heavy giant hair and reed basket that your weapons may not be too much to give you away. There is an odd sight behind you. Emerging from the Templar District is a Templar of reasonable rank, reprimanding a Thri-Kreen on a leash. What are the chances that they are using a kreen to track you? By the fact that it is leashed seems unusual, as most slave owners don't bind themselves to their own slaves. Just then the group of haulers you are following turns a corner and the pair is out of your sight.

That's strange. I should follow. I need allies if I am to escape Urik, it's obvious that my usual contacts can not be trusted. If I free this thri-kreen he may prove useful.

Xanyon follow the thri-kreen and templar.

But I'm a prepared caster -- there are no orisons I can spontaneously cast - which meant that if I prepare 2 Create Waters, that's 2 slots that I *can't* cast infinite spells from... However, your call.

Well, this is not what I expected in the great corruption of the city... I guess the tyrant is a big believer in law and order, at least for other people...

Noticing the gateway, he smiles to hismelf, Now that is more along the lines of what I expected...

Anton makes his way into this section of town, and when the woman is parted from her companion, approach.

First he says "Hail" in Druidic, quickly coughing and continuing in common, hoping for understanding, but trying to hide the gesture, "Pardons. I am a traveller new to the city, and wondered if I could trouble you for directions?"

Averel shrugs "I do not really know what is around my old home but I am from an outpost south of here. My ex-master trained me to be a fighter that is all I know. I would rather not become someones slave again to join the arena so I thought going with merc work would play to what I know. I have a question for you how did you get in on the merc life?"

K'z'k moves in front and continues down the street, wondering just how this new master expects to catch any prey with that loudness. He is clearly fat enough to have had enough success.

K'z'k replies, "No escape, master, the hair is good for my brushes. These patterns, today, they will make an interesting new painting."

Recall the diagram, K'z'k thinks. Where is the new prey? And how can I not get stopped by this loud one.?

"Ah... um... aaah," Morthak stammers, put off by the series of questions, and the templar's unseeming helpfulness. He blinks a few times, in a random pattern, and replies. "The slavers were of no trading house that I know of, just thugs aligned with the Black Sand Raiders. I tracked them here. If they remain, and still have my family, I will release them... by whatever means are required." An intense fire burns in Morthak's eyes as he speaks of his focus.

@Anton
You see the young lady look slightly undecided, before beginning to head off in the direction opposite of her traveling companion. You approach her and begin to speak.

@Sinorei
As you resign yourself to head off away from Adder, you hear someone approach and turn to see a tall young man. He has a powerful build and skin the colour of worn mahogany. His sand-coloured hair is shaggy and slightly unkempt, somewhat reminiscient of a sandstorm, while his dark brown eyes shine a little too brightly, revealing the passionate fervor within. He looks expectant as he begins to speak.

First, he says "He'lo" in some weird language quickly coughing and continuing in common, hoping for understanding, but trying to hide the gesture, "Pardons. I am a traveller new to the city, and wondered if I could trouble you for directions?"

Feel free to talk amongst yourselves, and include each other in the responses.

"Me?" he asks with a laugh, "Ha, my boy, I started out as a guard with House Stel." You recognize the name Stel from being in the Ezio household, it is the ruling trading house of Urik. "It was there, during caravan duty, that we were set upon by bandits. It was a damned kreen that took my ear and ruined my sight." he spits the word kreen like a curse. "The thanks I get for helping defend a wagon, and losing a part of me in so doing, was to be let go because 'A guard that can only half see and half hear, is only half as good to us as a whole one' they told me." he mimics the words of a highborn. At this last he swigs the last of his drink before standing up to leave. "Remember, when and where to be and don't be late, I don't give discounts."

With a quiet resignation you resolve to walking ahead of the new master. He periodically gives a direction to turn here or there, going down different main routes. In a strange turn of events, you notice that the slow one you had once been tracking, can be seen now and again peering from around corners and following the two of you. Has he now begun to hunt you? Or is he just taunting you, by showing that you cannot get to him?

The templar narrows his eyes, looking less than apathetic. "You'll abide by the rules of the city. If your family is in the hands of slavers, they are their property. Even more so, if someone has purchased them, they are the rightful property of the new owner." He reprimands you adamantly. "I will have your word that you will abide by the lawful dictates of the city of Urik, or you will not be granted entry." He puts his hands on his hips as if daring you to defy him.

You see the kreen turn away from following you, and go back to walking leashed in front of the Templar. The Thri-kreen looks downtrodden, but not in the typical slave fashion of looking as if they lack the desire to care. In fact it looks, if it can be said of the emotionless countenance of the mantis men, to appear almost petulant like it resents the presence of the Templar. As you follow them, the Templar is oblivious, but not long after you see the kreen notice you following, yet it does not alert the Templar. At seeing you, and each instance after, it cocks its head in confusion. It clearly does not understand why you would be following them.

Averel listens as the dwarf speaks once he is done he nods than say "Thank you for the help. I will make sure that I will be there on time." Once the dwarf leaves Averel stays in the tavern to wait for the time to go see the elf. While waiting he thinks to himself "I am so close now in a few more hours I can find out who this group is."

Morthak's eyes widen, but his grim bearing turns into a smile. "Of course I will obey the laws of King Hamanu! Far be it for a humble wanderer such as myself to cause trouble and chaos in Urik!"

Bluff: 1d20 ⇒ 2 ...lol!

Shifting serious again, "<Ahem> I mean only to see justice done. Slavery may be protected under the laws of great Hamanu, but murder and kidnapping freemen are certainly crimes."

Perhaps that is the trap, K'z'k thinks. Lure the prey somewhere secluded and remove him there, where the others will not notice.

K'z'k carefully looks for alleyways and abandoned buildings, somewhere he can lead his new master and hopefully bring the prey to capture.

Sinorei's heart races for a moment as she runs into yet another stranger in Urik.

*He may be more helpful, he seems to have all his teeth*

He's asking me for directions, how helpful can he be?

*Strength in numbers, my dear*

Quib had a point. If she could find someone to accompany her, she would be less of a target.

Sinorei eyed the obsidian scimitar pinned to the tall man's belt.

Hopefully he can use that.

She smiled, and untying her hair, she pushed her bangs back while reapplying the tie.

"I am afraid I am new here today, as well. Urik is a dangerous place to travel alone, where are you headed?"

The 'kreen has noticed me. That's no reason to stop now, I'll just have to be more careful.

Continue to follow
Stealth +5
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

She did not react to the Druidic... and I should be wary about trying that trick too often. I imagine there are some, at least, who would recognize the sound of it being spoken, even if they did not understa--
Anton's thoughts stop as the lady fixes her hair and he is struck by her beauty... at least for a moment before he tries to push it away. Careful.. Oasir taught you that the most dangerous things in the desert are almost always the most beautiful. He could almost hear his old master's voice in his head saying "Keep your wits about you.", just as he had so many times before. "..and answer the girl's question before she thinks you simple."

Anton smiles apologetically, "To be honest, I know not. I was hoping to find a place to stay, one which would not empty my coinpurse, either by its cost or its clientelle... and to visit the city's gardens, if only to admire them briefly." ...and see if I can't find any other druids about.

Of course, and DM too...

I'm going to save rolling a Sense Motive to see how trustworthy Anton is and presume he passes.

Sinorei nods, half-laughing at the mention of a place to stay with trustworthy clientele.

"Well, perhaps we can begin this quest together," she suggests with a charming smile.

I don't want to walk the streets alone, and surely if I am with someone, any more bandits I've angered will be less likely to approach us.

"It is assuredly better to walk the streets as a pair. I barely escaped a..." She fumbles for her next word, "situation earlier, as I was walking about by myself."

She holds her arm out, as if to suggest a gentleman should be escorting her.

"I am Sinorei."

*He doesn't appear to have that much coin, if we are going to rob someone, shouldn't we find someone wealthier?* Quib offered.

Quiet... I'm not robbing this one!

Anton nods, feeling some concern about the woman's safety, despite the old half-elf's voice repeating itself in his head to keep his wits about him. That, truly, is a remarkable smile...., and then he catches himself.

"I would like that... I must admit, I know little of cities, having grown up in the wilds."

He looks at her arm quizzically for a moment, and then realizes the intent. If I keep this up, she will think me simple. He responds with a small bow, and taking the offered arm.

"I am Anton, and in this matter at least, at your service."

1d20 ⇒ 9

The walk seems much more pleasant, despite the heat, with an amiable companion to share the trip with. Heading down the road finds you coming out into a large area, that actually seems to be devoid of as much activity as seen elsewhere in the rest of the city. After a little more of a discerning eye, you notice that the majority of the structures seem to be supporting unfired kilns. It makes sense that they wouldn't be lit during the day. The merchants are still out hawking their wares, though, pots, urns, vases, art and tiles, many items bearing the symbol of Hamanu.

4d6 ⇒ (1, 5, 5, 1) = 12

Not long after the dwarf leaves, the barmaid approaches your table again. She's about average looking, with the assets that help in her line of work, but not much to look at beyond that. She asks "Hey there sweetie, will ya be having anythin' else, or are ya just taking up a table?" looking at you, you see a guilt in her eyes. She sighs heavily and asks "Ya didn't give him money did ya? Please, tell me you didn't."

You manage to find a few good alleyways to lead off the path, but it will take a little extra work. You're not sure if you are still being followed, as you haven't seen him on the last few turns. You dart down a good one before your new master knows what is happening, pulling him along. You are able to duck into a good alcove hidden from the roadway before the master grabs the braid with both hands and pulls you to a stop. Once again his yells are loud enough to wake the dead. "Listen here you overgrown ant, you try getting away from me one more time, and I will forget what I'm selling you for and turn you into materials for the armorsmiths!"

The templar obviously doesn't like your answer. He shakes his head, and makes a decision. "You seem like you want to do the right thing, but keep in mind, in this city Hamanu's laws are the right thing to do." He pauses, then continues "When you go in, follow the road straight, then go left through the Artisan Quarter. Near the other gate you will find the Foreign Quarter. There's an inn there called 'The Halfling's Pot'. I will meet you there tomorrow to look for these illegal slavers." he adds after the fact. "I'm Templar Karek."

You notice that he seems to be staying easy to follow, but you haven't seen him look back for a bit. Either he is looking when you are out of sight, or not looking at all. It is only a little further before you see him jerk the Templar on the leash into an alley. Moving up to the edge of it, you hear the man yelling at the Thri-kreen, clearly fed up with its escape attempts, "Listen here you overgrown ant, you try getting away from me one more time, and I will forget what I'm selling you for and turn you into materials for the armorsmiths!" The two of them are alone, now may be your chance.