Cahel, still in the saddle, follows Arakan and will assist in direction-finding if necessary.
The adventurers ride away with all due haste. The ground rumbles and heaves, and the tall standing stones topple to the ground and shatter behind them. Half-formed, unintelligible words can just be made out amid the cacophony as the spirit's tantrum shakes the earth.
But Arakan leads the way through the clouds of gas. At last they break through into clean air, leaving the cursed place behind them.
Beyond the poison grounds, the group find themselves on top of an escarpment. Beyond, the slope descends to a broader plain which shimmers with heat haze. Scrubby bushes dot the landscape olive-green.
Arakan scans the expanse, frustration on his features, "Okay. Why don't one of you tracker types put your nose to the ground and get us back on... or just on, the trail of these bandits?"
Morthak spends a few moments taking a knee, trying to clear his lungs of the foul vapors. He then aids in the search for tracks.
Cahel looks about, seemingly aware of things surrounding the area that the others cannot see.
Cahel feels footprints of the men and mekillots as the tiny spirits of the earth and plants felt them yesterday. To him, their path is obvious as it winds between the buttes and mesas.
The travellers continue on the trail of the bandits. The ground descends until it reaches the plain. The flat-topped hills that give the Tablelands its name loom ahead.
The day wears on towards night. There are no further attacks, and the sun begins to dip.
Cahel points a meaty finger in the distance.
"Smoke. There."
"There, smoke. Could be a campfire. If it is the raiders, we could ambush them under cover of darkness." Morthak nudges the others, who seem to be still affected by the noxious fumes. "Or perhaps we rest ourselves?"
Cahel, seeing that someone else finally saw the smoke, lowers his hand and looks to Arakan and Jareen. The little ones, especially the old one, seemed to be the most respected and make the most sense when things were confusing.
"We should head towards it. We have no idea how long they will stop for, this could be our only chance. Someone needs to scout quietly ahead to see what we are up against."
"I can see, but I can't be not seen."
Arakan looks at the distance between the group and the campfire, then at the span of distance across the sparsely bush-dotted landscape. "Yeah, one scout right now is a bad idea." Clearly concerned by the prospect, "We would also be hard-pressed to cover that distance unseen in time to act if we needed. I say we use our current position to make camp for the rest of the day, then cross the open space when it's dark. That way we can move together as a group and remain unseen." He unconsciously sidles his crodlu closer to the Kreen that has so effectively defended him before.
"Do we know it is our quarry?" He looks around the surrounding landscape suspiciously. "The raiders are a cunning lot. Perhaps they are baiting us for an ambush."
"It's a possibility, and why I don't want to just charge in. I will defer to Arakan's superior knowledge here, that usually works out best for us."
If so,
The spirits lead Cahel to a suitable spot amid a group of boulders, sheltered from the fierce sun and defensible should it come to it. The group wait out the day there. The sun soon looms, fat and red, at the horizon before sliding down and draping the desert in fading twilight.
Arakan looks at the direction that they saw the smoke, now hidden in the dark, much like they themselves were also. "Well, here's what I'm thinking. We cross the distance, at a moderate pace, just to at least get us close. Once we are near enough that any scouts could get backup in short order, if needed, then the scouts go out. We can discuss along the way who would be the best to scout." He is clearly avoiding even the indication that he is an option, or even worse, the best option.
Morthak nods. "I'm not stealthy, but the darkness does not bother me."
Jareen yawns. "That sounds sensible, do they appear to be moving yet?"
In response to the old man's question, Cahel looks over toward their prey.
"Come on then, let's move out."
The group saddle up and move out into the darkness. One of the moons peeps over the horizon and the sky glitters with points of cold starlight.
"Follow me," Morthak says and leads the way.
Morthak leads the party, his night vision helping him see clearly. The deep desert is a dangerous place, in daytime but especially at night, so they stay alert.
After moving about a mile, they can see the glow of a fire. It looks like a camp of some size. They they hear a distant haunting call from the dark.
"Fury of the tembo... Haw haw..."
"Sneak and stealth might be wise if we get any closer."
Morthak tries to make out more of the speech.
"Am I remembering wrongly, or wasn't that voice last being used by the creature that was taking heads in the desert?" Jareen whispers.