Black Sands (Game Collective) (Inactive)

Game Master Doomed Hero

"Three Hundred Crowns." the Vizier's muffled voice sounds dispassionately from behind their mask.

You were one of many judged today. The Vizir heard your case, looked at your file, offered you prison or fine and you made your choice. having no money to pay, you chose Service to work off your debt.

The Vizir named your debt-price, the guard hauled you away, locked a collar around your neck and pushed you out into the bright sun.

After two days in jail, freedom was bliss.

Standing at the Fortress Gate, other Visirs looked over the crowd of the Collared, glancing at their work sheets and beckoning to those they thought fit their work profiles.

One points at you and a few others, and motions you to him.

"Trade skills." the Visir says from behind the faceless mask that was the mark of their order.

You wonder if it's true about what they say about lying to a Vizir...

Hasani, glances at the others around him, raises his chin, takes a steadying breath and says,

"I am a healer, a priest of merciful Ash, and a capable navigator of the Sea of Sands."

"Alchemist and wizard of the first order.

Farooq answers a little sullenly, clearly unhappy at the situation.

Nodding to the wizard Hasani whispers,

"Well met wizards, these are dark times to bring men such as ourselves to such a pass. May the gods grant us a swift return to freedom - I am Hasani by the way, might I have your name?"

The Vizir scratches on a tablet, making notes, ignoring the conversation developing.

Al A'ton steps forward. White, loose fitting robes drape about his tall, lean frame. Grey eyes are outlined with charcoal and a wisp of black hair lines a face that appears to be carved more than sculpted.

"I am of the Khel-Hadim. I can walk and track the sands, fight with blade and shield, and can take apart mechanical devices."

The vizir nods, finishing scratching on his tablet.

From within the voluminous purple and blue robes he produces a thick scroll case and hands it to the trio.

"Here is your first Good Work, debtors."

Without another word, he turns and begins pointing to a new group.

Inside the case is a official looking document.

In addition to the writ, the scroll case has 4 heavyweight pieces of vellum and two cloth-wrapped sticks of charcoal, as well as a ten foot length of string with measurement markers on it and a ten inch straight stick with similar markings.

Hasani takes the scroll case and pops it open retrieving the scroll and carefully smoothing it before reading in his rich molasses voice,

"The bearers of this missive have the full faith of the Council of Sultans in the undertaking of the following task for the glory of His Majesty, Osir Ra XIV.

First, make contact with the Royal Exploration Society. Travel with them to the ruins of Gahala-Tir.

Second, undertake the exploration of the ruins of Gahala Tir, a ruined temple to the false gods of the lost tribe of Bau-Anub. Render a functional map of all traversable passages.

Third, determine the fate of the two Royal Exploration Society surveyors who have gone missing.

Return no later than one week from this day.

Having finished reading he proffers the scroll to anyone else who looks interested saying,

"Well that does not seem so bad, and a week is not so long a time. I suggest we seek out the Royal Exploration Society and then procure equipment with their suggestions in mind. Will that prove acceptable?"

Al A'ton's voice is flat, with little affect, "That course of action seems appropriate. I am Alton of Khel-Hadim."

"Farooq El-Amin. That seems like the easiest starting point."

Farooq will think to see if he recognizes any of the names mentioned in the missive.

Knowledge(History): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23
Knowledge(Religion): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11

"Delighted to make your acquaintances, though I wish it were under better circumstances. Very well let us make for The Royal Exploration Society post haste!" Hasani says with a smile, "I shall feel far lighter of spirit once this wretched collar begins to shed links!"

He then begins walking, seeking directions if necessary.

The Last Prison lay beneath the Wall District, a many-layered labyrinthine hive, like an overgrown Kesunean ant farm. The newly-collared trio were glad their stay had been short and limited to the upper levels. The folktales of the prison Deeps made grown men's skin crawl. Three days in the upper prison, called the Shallows, was more than enough.

The trek from the Wall to the Bazaar was longer than they expected. The main roads of the Last City were all curved, eventually leading any traveler back to where they had started, a great wheel, with the roads leading between the districts acting as the spokes.

The Royal Exploreration Society was on the other side of the wheel.

Any journey through the Bazaar is an eventful one. It is loud, colorful and boisterous no matter the time of day. Today was no different. Painted acrobats contorted and balanced while a hawker spun tales for the crowd and asked for coin. Alton's eyes immediately flicked to the many children in the crowd, awed by the performers. At least three were pickpockets, probably in league with the hawker.

A full fist of Kaliman Mercenaries pushed through the crowd, their signature double-headed hooked lances recognizable even from a distance.

A menagerie caravan sold monkeys and lizards and colorful birds, and even a young cat the size of a hound.

They even saw a single begger. An outsider, obviously. The Vizirs would have him moved to Dust Town before the day was done. A person's work was a sacred duty to the gods. To beg for charity so brazenly was an insult to the gift of life itself.

They managed to reach the Explorer's Society mostly unmolested. It was a square building made from simple tan bricks decorated in an engraved mural depicting ancient treasures and legendary places.

A doorguard sat beneath the front awning, lazily eyeballing the trio from beneath his wide-brimmed hat. He was a large man, and had probably been quite strong in his youth, but years of guarding a building that few people cared about had left him with a round middle. The tulwar on his back and the two short blades in his sash were not soft, though.

As they approached, the big guard pointed to a barrel made from the taxidermied foot of some great beast.

"Welcome, sirs. You must be the help the Archivist sought. Weapons and bags there, please."

Farooq deposites his gear.

"I assume these will be returned to us?"

Alton places his gear in the barrel watching the guard carefully as he does so. Afterwards he stands back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Of course." the guard says. "Go on in. I'll keep an eye on your stuff."

Hasani relinquishes his few remaining possessions with good grace and steps forward,

"Very well, which way should we go to announce ourselves my friend?"

"The Archivist is usually in the Gallery." The guard says. "That's the door on the left when you go into the entry hall."

Hasani offers a slight bow,

Many thanks, may you always find water," he says politely before entering and making his way to the Gallery as directed.

He's like the anti-Thorgar ;)

Heh.

The entry hall of the Royal Exploration Society was a long corridor with a half dozen doors and many alcoves with pedestals set in them displaying ancient looking artifacts. The head of some kind of large insectoid creature, a broken tablet, a bone scepter, and other interesting objects of antiquity.

A pair of turban-headed scholars came in one door and out another, arguing loudly but paying the group no mind.

Hasani opened the first left door and entered a room full of ancient tapestries with three large tables in the center. A tall, thin man with extremely dark skin looked up from his work at the desk and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Can I help you?"

Alton delivers a slight bow and follows Hasani, his eyes studying the interior as he moves in.

"We are here at the behest of the Council of Sultans, I am Hasani, humbly at your service, to aide in the exploration of the ruins of Gahala Tir. We thought it best to seek your advice before procuring equipment for our journey and to see what you had in mind." Hasani says offering the man a deferential bow.

"Ah, excellent. I am Archivist Vas. You have come sooner than I anticipated."

Pointing to his map, he says, These are the ruins, you will travel with our caravan. The journey takes only one to two days. You will be surveying an ancient temple lost beneath the sands for ages. We have all the supplies you should need in the wagons or at the camp site. It is a fully stocked excavation. We are simply waiting on a group to uncover possible dangers before we move in. We have already lost two good researchers."

"Hmmmm...How were your researchers lost?"

"We do not know. They failed to make a scheduled check-in. We sent another group after them to do a cursory check, but did not find them. They did not answer when the second group called out. Some of their equipment was found in a central room but they had been moving around in that area so much that it was impossible to tell which direction they might have gone. The expidition leader felt it was prudent not to risk more men unnecessarily, so he pulled the second team out and requested specialty help. The message was delivered to me by the expedition leader's Familiar this morning. By my estimation it has been approximately fifteen hours since the team went missing."

Hasani nods gravely, "And what can you tell us about these researchers? Appearance, personality, I would rather hear superfluous information than miss something vital."

"Tell me of the area they are in. Were they well supplied with food and water? Proper clothing? Or were they away from such gear when they went missing?"

"I am afraid I do not have that information. The expedition leader will though. I am not sure which of his surveyors went missing. To my knowledge the expedition is quite well supplied though. All of them quite professional."

"So I imagine, we should rendezvous with the expedition leader to get the details."

"That is correct. The supply caravan is awaiting you at the north gate. Look for the wagon with the Exploration Society seal on it. Oh, and please take this letter and this book to the expedition leader. I finished a translation sooner than expected. It may be helpful."

"If you are ready honorable gentlemen, we may set off."

Walking a quarter turn around the Bazaar didn't take long. It was beginning to get hotter which drove the crowds under awnings and indoors.

The north and south gates were both staging points for caravans heading out into the vast desert. Today the north gate was surprisingly empty. Usually it was a tightly packed series of gridlocked wagons, irritable animals and teamsters yelling at each other while vizirs inspected cargo and collected tariffs.

Off to one side a single wagon bearing the crest of the Exploration Society sat, a porter and a fellow Debtor were resting against the wheels while a camel hostler watered the animals hitched to the yoke.

As the trio approached, the porter got up and thumbed toward the back of the wagon. "Load up. Haseed, the other Debtors are here."

The hostler looked up, smiled a gap-toothed grin and waved broadly to get the attention of a nearby Vizir.

The orders of Vizirs were complicated. Color denoted their sect. The color and intricacy of the embroidery on their collars and cuffs denoted specialties and seniority. This one wore red, the sect of Servants.

The Vizir quickly asked the names of everyone in the caravan, scratching very quick lines and slashes into the tablet it carried. The crates were not inspected and no questions were asked. Apparently the Exploration Society was outside the normal suspicions which had given the sect of Servants a reputation for being good for little more than slowing the march of commerce.

The hostler snapped his reins and they were out the gates in minutes. It was as painless an exodus as any of them had ever experienced.

Dust Town was as charming as ever. The main road out the gate was lined with sentry towers where well armed guards kept the throng out of the street. Beggars still cried for charity and desperate people clamored for passage, but they did so from behind the ropes. The line of wagons to get into the city went for only half a mile today. In another month as summer passed and travel became easier, it would stretch for miles forcing some to wait days for a chance to be inspected and let inside.

Dust town did not so much end as it did fade out. The rickshaws and tents simply became less and less dense. No one lived outside walking distance from the city, but even a half hour after they'd left the gate they were still seeing the occasional shelter. The hostler was good. He stayed well away from any of them. Out here there would be no help if someone decided they were desperate enough to disregard notions of "property" or "sanctity of life", and in Dust Town, every last person was desperate for something.

Which is why, when they thought back on it later, it really should have come as no surprised when the wagon was ambushed...

Map

Farooq, go ahead and take your action. Then I'll take the NPC actions and we'll go into a more round-robin initiative.

@DH: you need to the share the map, I don't have permission to see it right now. I'll post my action once I've got the lay of the land

Sorry. Try it now.

No worries

"Look out, ambush!"

Farooq pulls out his x-bow (move action) and tries to find some cover in the wagon (total defense +4AC)

Alton rears his head up at the mention of ambush, he begins scrambling for his shield and blade.

As the wagon stops and Farooq cries out Bradar will jump to his feet and draw his weapons holding for what ever is attacking the wagon to come to him.

At Farooq's warning the driver hauled on the reigns to halt the camels, but his reactions were just not fast enough to handle the surprise that lay in wait for them.

A thick chain yanked itself up out of the sand with a spray of grit right at the height of the camel's knees. The poor creatures screamed and honked as their legs hit the barrier, collapsing them painfully to the ground.

Men with faces hidden by cloth wraps erupted from the sands as the chain had, some rushing forward and some hurling throwing irons. The driver and the porter in the front seat went down in a hail of thrown steel, the driver groaning weakly but managing to stay conscious. Most of the hurled weapons were deflected as they caught the covered wagon's canopy, but one ripped thorough it and found Hassani's arm.

Two raiders scrambled to the front of the wagon, drawing short curved blades, intent on violence but not quite able to finish the two wounded men yet.

Three more rushed the back of the wagon, two managing to cover ground fast enough to lunge at Bradar and Alton.

In an eye blink the wagon was surrounded and the Debtors found themselves fighting for their lives.

The attackers seem to be moving well in the sand. They are not treating it as Difficult Terrain.

Alton, Farooq, please post your Round 1 actions.

Sense Motive1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26

"They are fanatics, take them out quickly, give no quarter until they are all down."

With that Al A'ton brings his khopesh around in a vicious arc.

To hit E101d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16
Damage1d8 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

Defensive Casting:
Concetration Check DC17: 1d20 + 1 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 1 + 5 = 20

Casts Colour Spray on E7

Alton's curved sword hooked into his attacker's neck, throwing him to to the sand in a gurgling spray of blood. Farooq tore a hole in the canvas that had been punched by a throwing iron open a bit more, enough to stick a hand through and blast an expanding cone of brilliant light outward. When the glare clears, the man with the dagger was a twitching heap on the ground.

One of the ambushers slashed at the injured driver, but the wounded man managed to painfully throw himself out of range. Another attacker stepped into the void left by the man Alton had dispatched, pressing Alton hard. Next to him, the one attacking Bradar grabbed the still startled Debtor by the leg and dragged him out of the back of the wagon. Out in front, one of the ambushers attempted to take control of the camels, but the wounded beasts were not feeling very receptive.

The rain of steel blades continued to fall, ripping into the canvas cover and slapping into wood but not finding any flesh.

The camels struggled to their feet. One moaned in pain, favoring one of it's forelegs. The attacker in front of them received a face full of foul-smelling spit just for being nearby. The badly injured driver snapped the reigns, hoping to escape, but the wagon didn't get far before the chain was caught across the driver's bench just above the wheels. The men holding the chain strained and slid in the sand, but managed to brace against the stones, fighting against the injured camels and managing to keep the wagon from escaping.

Lucky round. No one took any damage (but Bradar was dragged out of the wagon. You guys are up. No one is flat footed any longer, everyone may take full round actions.

Hasani grits his teeth to the pain and moves towards the rear of the wagon carefully positioning himself so he can catch one of the foes menacing Bradar without harming his comrade as he chants and sends, rather feeble, flames gouting from his fingertips.

"You will only bring suffering upon yourselves, we do not wish to harm you, please rethink this foolish course," he calls sadly.

Burning Hands DC 15 Reflex for half on E12. Fire Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 1

Now ready to use Misfortune, so if anyone misses and wants another swing... You only get once a day though, and I can only do one a round.

Alton lifts his shield trying to take his opponents guard high before sweeping low with his blade, trying to sever a knee.

to hit1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
damage1d8 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

Bradar gives a startled shout as he is grabbed and pulled from the wagon. He is able to maneuver in the air and land on his feet and he growls at the creature that pulled him from the wagon. [b]"Now you pay for that"[b] he says a shimmer of anger flashing across his face. Its the first real sign of emotion he's shown this entire time.

When he can he quickly draws both his dagger and his rapier and thrusts both weapons at the creature.

Acrobatics check to land on my feet:1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21
Dagger attack:1d20 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 11d4 ⇒ 3
Rapier attack:1d20 - 1 ⇒ (9) - 1 = 81d6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

Farooq will load a bolt at fire at E8

Twang: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
Thunk: 1d8 ⇒ 6

GM Rolls: 7d20 ⇒ (14, 6, 10, 12, 17, 20, 18) = 97

The wagon surged forward again as Farooq's crossbow bolt took one of the men holding the chain in the back. The man who had so grievously injured the driver stepped in behind the oving wagon to lunge at Alton moments after Hassani launched a cone of flame towards one of the men who had dragged Bradar out of the wagon, scorching one of them badly enough to make him ignore Bradar for a moment and hurl a twisted looking throwing iron back at Hassani.

His enemy's dagger skittering uselessly off his shield Alton thrusts past his assailant's head before dragging the hooked blade back trying to end the man's life.

To hit E61d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
damage1d8 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

I was waiting to see what the other were going to do...

Farooq reloads his x-bow and moves to N11.

Bradar will five foot step to N14(so he is flanking with Alton) and swing his rapier at E6. Seeing his blade connect Bradar looks to Alton "Figured you could use a hand."

Rapier attack:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19
Rapier damage:1d6 + 1 + 1d6 ⇒ (5) + 1 + (2) = 8

Assuming the wagon provides cover and thus negates aoos?

Hassani jumps down from the wagon and chants again spendign fire from his fingertips at the two villains menacing his new companion.

Fire: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Burning Hands DC 15 Reflex for half.