"Alright, we'll get you some crodlus, some rations and water, spare weapons, and we'll throw in a few healing fruits because we're good like that. Don't know about a map - I'm sure a scribe can knock one of those up, but it might look suspicious. But the place isn't hard to find. We'll meet you by the town gate at dawn tomorrow.
"If you want a place to flop, try Fendi's by the north tower. Tell 'em Kamzar sent you."
Jareen nods, and waits for the thugs to leave before turning to the others. "Well, that went about as well as can be expected." looking at Arakan he continues "I'm surprised you all jumped at the chance of more fighting. I'm glad you did though. Now, I plan to find this Fendi and get some sleep." With that, he stands to leave.
The group move off the Fendi's. In a small town like this it isn't hard to find, and soon the party are sharing a dark and dusty cell in Fendi's Flophouse.
Arakan lifts a skeptical eyebrow in Jareen's direction, "Jumped at the chance to fight? Not exactly from eagerness. I'm thinking that whatever we do for these 'mysterious benefactors' will give us leverage to aid in hunting down the pale bastards." He shakes his head at Jareen's assumption that he didn't have something up his sleeve if he was agreeing to the task.
That morning, Calla, Gorad and Irivis make a surprising announcement: they are going to stick with Qualli and his sons and head on towards Tyr. Calla is keen to progress finding the obsidian mine he Grandmother vouchsafed her, Gorad is sticking with Calla through loyalty to her house, and Irivis isn't sure her leg can take another trip into the desert.
So Jareen and Arakan find just themselves standing by the gate when Kamzar shows up. "Is this it?" asks the mul.
"It is. It will have to be, wont it? What of the good? I'd like to be on my way before the sun gets high."
Arakan is in a sour mood over Irivis' decision. He wanted to continue to Tyr and find the gang responsible, but if anything could be gained from finding the orb it could go a long way toward his revenge. He's more upset at realizing he may just miss her company. "Unfortunately, the others have different designs, so yeah, it would look like this is it." He spits snarkishly, "If your handlers want this done right, we may be better served by being granted some additional men. I've seen the old man fight" he jerks his thumb Jareen's direction, "and it isn't anything you'd hear minstrels spin tales of."
"If you listened to me more often we may avoid the fights in the first place" Jareen grumbles mostly to himself.
Arakan rolls his eyes at the old man's grumbling. Who did he think he was talking to, Gorad or Calla? Those two thick-headed lunks tried to rush headlong into fighting everything they came across. "You forget who almost had us out of that scrap at Grak's Pool. Had a certain old man I know not decided to threaten the false Pyreen, I could have had them change their mind and walk away. Remind me again who conviced the Templar along the road to go about his business, or even concocted the plan to escape the tower. You assume that just because the rest of you decided to follow Calla said, that I agreed or didn't have a better way of getting things done."
Kamzar stares into the middle distance and begins to massage his temples. "Alright," he says slowly, "So most of the team has walked. I'll have to think about this." He stops to consider. "I might know some people - there's a washed-up gladiator and a crazy 'kreen I know will probably help." He taps his chin. "Is there anyone else?" he asks himself.
Arakan grows concerned over the 'help' they would be recieving. A 'washed-up gladiator and a crazy kreen' wasn't exactly what he had in mind. "I have the ability to push others to fight past their injuries once in a while, but anyone that could keep us all on our feet longer would be a welcome addition."
"Yes, well, perhaps we will do better from here. Some extra muscle certainly wouldn't go amiss."
"Alright," mutters Kamzar darkly, "Go to a pub until noon, then come back here. I'll have it sorted by then." He stalks off through the crowd.
"Noon?" Jareen sighs. "Well, lead on my friend, it seems we have some drinking to do."
Furio spots Kamzar shouldering through the morning crowd. Furio vaguely knows this second mul from having drunk with him a couple of nights ago. He'd said he might have a job. Which would be better than engaging Kal in another staring contest. The 'kreen always wins - no eyelids.
"Hey! Furio! That job - it's on. You in?"
Kal spots Kamzar shouldering through the morning crowd. Kal remembers this second mul, Furio having drunk with him a couple of nights ago while Kal sat next to them. Kamzar said he might have a job. That would be good. Money would mean more beer for Furio, and Kal could sit next to him some more.
Kamzar nods at Kal, then says, "Hey! Furio! That job - it's on. You in?"
Aub; Kal:
Furio thumps his cup down fully quaffed. Looks to the cutest girl in the room and gives a one eyed winking smile.
If there's no cute girl there, he hacks and spits in the dust.
"What is your bidding, master?" he says, kinda uncomfortably, addressing Kamzar as if he was an owner. He can't be serious, can he?....
"Forgive this Mul, good my lord; I don't entirely remember the details of what you would have me do........If it please you, then sate my thirst for memory, I plead, good my lord."
Aub, Kal:
To Aub and Furio:
Th'Kal's anntenae twich a bit when Kamzar approaches. He cocks his head in what he thinks is the appropriate look for paying attention
"kak, Kammmzar offered us work. The last job is over, and we have sat here very long. <bzzzk> But I would not like to dance... You do not have enough arm to do it correctly. Sorry." Th'Kal seems genuinely upset that Furio cannot dance with him.
Th'Kal adjusts his posture to try and be as relaxed as Furio appears... but he always keps his underarms reseting on his axes. He has grown to enjoy the company of Muls -- particularly Furio. Furio's strength and combat prowess has impressed Th'Kal... but he still has trouble with his name - the 'F' is so hard to pronounce without mammals' lips. Th'Kal often just calls Furio "kak". It is the word for warrior, and he always says it in a softer tone meaning freindship in Kreen...
Aub/Kal
"Heh heh.....heh......we not really going to dance, Kal;" Furio laughs; "it's just a figure of speech; a tiny little poem.
Like saying rain is the tears of the sky.
The sky isn't really crying. It doesn't have eyes."
Aub/Kal
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Aub/Furio
<Haaaang> It's one of the noises that Th'Kal makes to mimic mammal laughter... it sounds more like a goat dying, but there's merriment to it. It might alarm strangers because it's a feakishly unexpected noise. But Furio must be used to it, they have shared a few laughs since meeting.
Th'Kal continues to shake his head (mammals do that when they laugh - he's not sure why). He turns to Kamzar and tries out his new phrase, "We are ready to ... dance with you. Name the work."
Aub/Kal;
"Sir," to Kamzar; "what my thri kreen friend means is,.....we are at your disposal.
He's kinda,......trying to learn the lingo of all of us soft skin types."
smiles cordially; doesn't dare wink though.
Kamzar set off through the maze of alleys, Furio and Kal tagging along. They duck through an arch and up some stairs to a flat roof above a shop. There they find a heavily-muscled dwarf, stripped to the waist, doing one-armed press-ups. A bed roll and pack are stacked neatly to one side. "Yeah?" the dwarf asks laconically as a greeting, not bothering to interrupt his exercise routine.
"Gart, there's a job on. You in?"
You vaguely know the mul through contacts. He looks like a typical street thug - you reckon there's more to it, but professional courtesy means you don't enquire. But he's now shown up in the middle of your morning exercise routine - the bit with the one-armed press-ups - with another mul and a thri'kreen in tow.
"Gart, there's a job on. You in?"
"Well well well, this is certainly interesting," says Gart, eying the thrikreen, "and you have caught me at a good time. It appears I don't have much more than two coins to rub together. I'm in." He then knocks out a set of handstand pushups before gathering his belongings.
"Good," says Kamzar. "I like the way you didn't even ask me what the job is.
"You three get your stuff together, settle your bar tabs, and kiss your girls goodbye. Then meet me by the town gate at noon, I'll introduce you to the others then." With that, Kamzar takes his leave.
Arakan feigns intent on finding a suitable drinking establishment, turning each one down for some percieved obvious fault. Really he was more in the mood to walk the streets, getting a feel for the turns and city sectors. It's always good to know when and where would be the best side street to turn down when and if running becomes necessary.
Finally, as it nears noon and he feels comfortable with the basic layout of the city, he heads back to the front gate to see what new thick-headed mekillots he'll have to suffer with for the protection they offer.
Gart walks up to the gate with his armor on and weapon at his waist. He has some loose wraps on over his head, but for the most part the browned skin he has exposed to the sun doesn't seem to bother him.
He stands around, slightly annoyed that he got there before the others and casts his gaze about to find a familiar face.
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Th'Kal follows Furio about as he pays his bar tab and whatever else it is that he likes to do. Th'Kal is just happy to be moving about again -- he does like sitting around too long...
Th'Kal doesn't worry about time, but I would assume that Furio would keep them on schedule and get us to the gate at noon.
He clicks a greeting to Kamzar and Gart. He likes the new dwarf. Dwarves are easy to get along with and understand, and this one tends to appreciate physical strength -- he should make an excellent addition to the clutch and it's easy to see his value in a hunt.
Th'Kal appears like any other Thri'Kreen, though he does wear pieces of humanoid clothing over his hide armor in an attempt to fit in better: a cloak and cowel, a vest, a new beer stein... little things that serve little to no purpose to a kreen, but he believes helps him fit in with his adopted family. He also carries several well-used axes of various size.
"So, now that we are about to head out, what should I expect from today's events?" says Gart.
Gart raised a fist to his chest in a soldieresque greeting common among mercenaries too. He looked over the thrikreen. "Interesting. He is actually wearing clothes. I wonder why that is. All the others I have seen only wear straps for a place to put their weapons." Gart smiled to the pair, "no sense starting a working relationship off with a sour attitude" he thought, glad that these two didn't look like flowers about to wither under the sun's heavy glare.
Jareen, after a while of following Arakan around the city, takes the chance for a rest in the shade once back to the gates. As they enter the area he whispers "I'll let you handle this, you have more knowledge of the sort of men we will be presented with than I."
Arakan nods smugly at Jareen's assessment. "Fancy that. Despite Calla being looked toward to call all the shots, it seems you guys periodically recognize that I know what I'm doing." He looks around, seeing a few other oddities gathering around the gate, "I thought the mul said he was going to bring us the men and supplies at noon? I'll get plenty of time in the sun while we travel, no good sense to get so much while we're here."
"Arakan, we always appreciated you. Calla simply didn't wait to be asked her opinion, and didn't pontificate when she was finally allowed to give it." He grins broadly "Now, that's enough stroking your ego for the day, another dose tomorrow."
Furio looks over Gart; "that stuff's hot to wear;" looking at his plate armor.
"Hope you're up to it;" just some friendly ribbing, made uncomfortable by the fact that they just met; still, par for the course, amongst the coarse.
Then, Arakan; Jareen.
"I'm Furio, and if you've ever been so blessed as to have visited the arena of Tyr, you've heard of Furio Tembo. That would be me."
He smiles.
"This thri kreen is my friend, Th'Kal."
Looks over the two.
"That's Gart;" he points to the dwarf; "I only just met him, but he comes well recommended."
"Bah, I'm hardy enough, don't worry about that!" says Gart, before laughing a bit.
"heh; we'll see at that then;....."
Jareen looks impressed despite himself "The areena eh? How did you manage to get out of there?"
At noon, Kamzar shows up. “Alright,” he says, “It looks like you guys have met. I’ve got your gear outside – let’s go.” He saunters off through the gate, slapping the sergeant at the gate on the back like an old friend as he goes.
Outside is the gate is the caravanserai – a large, walled enclosure, mostly open to the sky with a covered gallery running around the interior wall. The place smells of spices and animal excrement from the merchant caravans that have rested here, past and present. Kamzar strolls up to where a stable boy is finishing saddling a group of crodlus.
“These are your mounts. Right now they’re borrowed, but if you fulfil your side of the bargain you get to keep them. There’s also food and water for the trip, and spare weapons. You can check the stuff over now.”
"forgive me comrades, but what is our objective? Or is that something best discussed away from prying ears?"
Jareen walks up to the most docile looking of the Crodlus, checking everything over. He takes the daggers and secretes them about his person.
To Kamzar he says "This looks good. Are there any others joining the party?" to Gart he says, "We'll explain on the way, we'll have plenty of time."
Arakan lets out a derisive snort, "If either of us had visitid the Tyrian arena, it wasn't luck that put us there that's for sure. Let's hope that it was skill and not luck that got you out of there." He eyes the Kreen suspiciously, a little curious about their opinion of half-elves, considering their 'affinity' toward elves.
Arakan looks over the mounts, much like Jareen, except he looks for the most aggressive one instead. If things go bad, he doesn't want the one that will buck him and run off, he'd rather have the one that will fight back.... while he slinks away. He should have spent more time at the stables over the gardens, though, because he can't really tell the things apart. That doesn't stop him from feigning experience, and he puts on a show of examining each of them. "These will have to do, I guess they are better than walking."
He looks at the dwarf incredulously, before explaining, contrary to Jareen's offer of handing them the information he seeks "Your objective, Gart is it? Is to protect the old man and I from harm. Maybe when, or if, we feel it's in our best interests to divulge any further information on to you, consider yourself blessed."
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"understood, m'lord, I sho'nuff meant no offense, guv'nah" and other similar exhortations. Gart says, sarcastically, while shuck-and-jiving.
Th'Kal stares blankly back at Arakan as he talks to Furio about the arena. It might just look like he's listening. But it's closer to a wolf judging prey. Internally his instincts wait to see if the almost-elfling will run and provide a good hunt... (he has only tasted elfmeat once, but something deep down tells him it's worth tasting again). But his upbringing and time with Fuiro tells him to wait and see if the almost-elf will be acceptable to travel with. Right now it's a toss up.
Then he makes the comment of the old man and himself needing 'protection from harm'.
<click-click-brrrlp> To Furio, "[friend-warrior]kak, it sounds like they are incapable of pulling weight that belongs to them... perhaps we should leave them and only take this Gart."
He waders over to the remaining mounts. He picks one, removes the daggers and hands them to Furio, and replaces two of his handaxes in mounts tack. He readjusts the saddle and makes sure everything is squared away (he was raised by an animal handler -- this is obviously not his first time around a crodlus) He then spends a silent bit letting his antenna get the creture's scent and making sure it is used to him. Without asking he does the same for Furio's mount, retying the tack and adjusting the saddle to make sure it is fit for riding. And even fixes up Gart's crodlus before finally mounting up. He has decided he likes this dwarf...
Kamzar looks vaguely irritated at the exchange. "If you guys are done talking, you've got a job to do." Without any further comment he turns and heads back to the town gate.
Assuming we are all here and ready to go, Th'Kal will follow.