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In the small town of Solku the harsh desert winds whip up a small sandstorm, sand pelting against your exposed skin mercilessly. The caravan master seems oblivious as he makes his final checks before setting off on his journey to deliver you into the charge of Garavel.
'Saddle up!' He bellows out, then pulling a scarf over his face he sets off on the two week journey to the west.
Dhakir eyes the beast at the other end of the tether suspiciously. Taking one last visual inventory of his gear, the tall and muscled man adjusts the pack slung over his shoulder and climbs atop the camel. The animal rises to its feet without protest when commanded.
As the caravan begins to move out, Dhakir hesitates. His gazes passes intentionally between the others he will be traveling with as they too mount up. Although long years of captivity have trained him be silent, curiosity still tugs at his thoughts.
At the command, Mirah quickly mounts her camel and prepares for the journey. As she awaits, the others, she feels the weight of the crossbow hanging at her side. It was not the first time she had been armed. In fact she had trained well with it. Her master had demanded that she be able to protect herself, as she was too valuable a commodity to be lost. But it was still rare for her to carry such a weapon so openly. Plus the two daggers she kept, one hidden on her person. For a slave to be so armed. She knew she was to be given her freedom when this task was to be completed, but the concept was still strange to think.
This task itself was still unknown to her. She was accustomed to being given only the most basic of information necessary for her to accomplish the tasks she was assigned, but she still knew not what the task itself was. She had only been that if she had completed whatever it was this Garavel wanted of her, that she would be free. That was all the incentive she needed. She cared not how dangerous, for any danger would be worth this reward.
She took a glance at her companions for this task. What were there thoughts on this? Their plans? She had learned it was better to not take what anyone said at face value. People would betray you in a heartbeat if it would be their gain. She knew to survive this she would have to show her worth. But for now, she would get to know them.
As the group prepares to depart, she introduces herself to the others. Greetings. My name is Mirah. It is my pleasure to serve you, I mean to travel with you, on this journey. Old habits are indeed hard to break.
Mahmoud finished loading his bulging pack, before walking up and scratching the resting camel behind the ear. He leans in and whispers softly into the beasts ear."Do not worry my dear, you will not feel the sting of the crop today." He climbs up gingerly, but with confidence. He had traveled countless miles by camel during his explorations and was as comfortable there as he was walkin. He appreciated the beast for carrying the burdens that he could not.
Excited to finally be on the way. The waiting is always the hardest part. He thinks to himself. The Society had put their faith in him and he was determined not to let them down. Plus, he had read much on Kelmarane, but he could not wait to see it in person. He looked to the others in the group. He did not know them, but he new they must be of hardy stock to be traveling out into the unrelenting wastes. He hoped in time that he would get to speak with them, but for now he offered little.
"Salaam, my friends. I am Mahmoud bin Ali and it is a blessing to be traveling with you." Mahmoud smiles and places his hand over his heart, bowing as low in the saddle as possible. With a click of his tongue, the camel stands and waits for the command to follow the others.
Checking her mount one last time to make sure everything is fine, Aisha ponders yet again the journey ahead of her, and the caravan final destination, Kalmarane. Kelmarane... what is happening there? Why a man like Garavel would look for mercenaries to go to a ghost town? most importantly, why would Haleen ever go there? Or was she taken there? By whom?
Damn!
So many questions, not a single answer... Yet.
Shaking her head, she tries to set aside her concerns and focus on her traveling companions. They are all strangers to her, but still, for the next few days at least the'll have to work together, so better start on the right foot. She approaches the others and, bowing slightly, politely states "I am Aisha Al-Raja, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I hope this day finds you well, and I am sure we will get to know each other and work well together during the journey ahead of us".
"Assalamu alaikum! May the peace of Sarenrae be upon us all!!" booms the voice of Bahram. "May we take a moment to offer a few words of praise to the Dawnflower, to bless us, her children, on this undertaking, and that if any should fall, that she gather them up in her glowing arms and keep them forevermore in her warm embrace."
With this dedication complete, he eyes the evil-looking beast he is to ride. "Peace of the goddess with you beast. I only ask that you respect a follower of the Dawnflower and not make this journey any worse than it must be!" With that, he inexpertly attempts to mount the camel, failing the first time, and almost falling out of the saddle the second. As the beast rises to join the others, Bahram sways dangerously forward and back, gripping the pommel as if his life depended on it.
Seeing him struggle, Dhakir maneuvered his own mount along side the flailing cleric. He reached out with a strong arm to help steady him. With a soft but sure voice he spoke, "Careful, friend. It would not reflect well on your goddess's intentions if you were to break your neck before we even left Katapesh."
Bahram smiles and say"The goddesses blessings on you friend. I must admit that I am more comfortable walking than riding these beasts, but I am sure I will get the hang of it, Sarenrae willing!"
Once better settled on the camel, he turns to Dhakir. "There, that is better. I am Bahram, follower of our glorous goddess Sarenrae."
Mahmoud smiles to himself at the large man's comment. "Wa alaikum as salaam, Bahram. Welcome to our little band."
Dhakir returns the smile, "I am Dhakir Zafar. I too am not accustom to traveling on the back a beast. It was always a luxury reserved for my masters. However, I suppose we would slow the caravan down considerably if we were walk to Kelmarane on our own two feet."
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You travel westward for a week to The Sultans Claw, where you will meet your employer. In the distance the immense outline of Pale Mountain looms slowely closer, rising like a tombstone on the horizon.
As soon as the craggy tree appears over the next hill, it becomes obvious why it is called the Sultan's Claw. With five immense, mostly leafless branches, the growth looks more like a giant skeletal talon than a thing of living wood.
As you top the last rise, a caravan of a half-dozen wagons and a large tent clustered around the distinctive tree comes into view. Camels in a nearby pen prance in agitation, and a clutch of confused goats and livestock wander the grounds around the wagons. Perhaps a dozen men and women rush around the campsite, chasing down an animal or hastening toward the centre of the cluster, near the Sultan's Claw, with pails of water in their hands. One of the wagons is on fire!
Lush orange and red flames engulf an elaborate wooden wagon emblazoned with painted moons and stars. A gout of smoke pours from an open door, and as you approach an ill wind blows a number of colorful fortune-telling Harrow cards from inside the wagon. One of the cards blows directly at Aisha, catching against her in a burst of orange cinders. It is the Cyclone, signifying a force that tears through whatever it meets at the behest of an intelligent being. The card portends war, arson, and destructive plans.
As you watch, the whole of the Sultan's Claw erupts into brilliant flame. The central flap of an elaborate tent flies open and a regal woman who can only be Almah steps out into the firelit night, closely followed by Garavel. "Douse that flame!" she shouts to the men surrounding the wagon, before spying you on the rise, "Find some way to help! she barks before running off towards the fire.
As you take in the scene you see Almah, Garavel and four soldiers of the Pactmaster Guard forming a bucket chain from a huge barrel 20ft away from the wagon.
Four mercenaries are struggling to move a wagon that is feet away from the burning wagon.
A red headed halfing is kneeling over two mercenaries who look near death from burns and smoke inhalation.
A Farmer and his wife are trying to round up the animals, which are panicked and in danger of running off, or causing injury.
Bahram calls out in his deep voice, "You with buckets! Come to me and I shall fill them!"
Without hesitation, Dhakir dismounts from his camel. Accessing no immediate dangers other than that of the uncontrolled inferno, he ignores the waraxe strapped to his back and instead dashes for the burning caravan. Without a word to the mercenaries, he braces his shoulder against the untouched wagon and lends his strength to their efforts.
Seeing where the others head, Mahmoud slides off his camel and helps the farmer and wife try to coax the animals to a safer spot.
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Several of the Pactmaster Guards with empty buckets run to Bahram, then continue onto the burning caravan with their buckets. As you draw near to the burned merc, it appears the halfing is also a cleric has the first merc stabilised and concious, but the second merc appears to be drifting further and further away from the land of the living, do you direct both your cure spell to her?
Mirah, you detect no magic. You join with Aisha in grabbing a bucket to put out the flames.
Dhakir braces himself against the wagon and heaves alongside the mercs.
As Mahmoud nears the animals he finds absolute chaos as the farmer tries to calm a pig, two goats and two sheep.
With a long and low grunt, Dhakir pushes against the wagon. The muscles in his legs, back, and arms flex and bulge as he forces his mass against the warm wood.
Mahmoud runs up to the animals, unsure of how to calm them. He runs about, his arms wide, making soothing sounds with his mouth.
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As Bahram calls upon the favour of Sarenrae, the dying mercs eyes flutter open, 'Thank you' she rasps... Seeing her safe from deaths door you leave her continued care in the hands of the other cleric, and hurry back to make more water.
As Dhakir and the 4 mercs push and grunt against the wagon you feel it budge slightly. Filled with renewed vigour, the 4 mercs ease back and then throw themselves at it again. You feel like success is possible if you manage to summon just a bit more strength.
You manage to calm the pig and both sheep and get them back in their pens, but the two goats remains stubborn, do you keep trying to help the farmer calm them?
Once the pig and the sheep are better under control, Mahmoud makes chases off after the two goats. "C'mere goats."
Recognizing the hulking man's intentions, Dhakir grabs the rope thrown at him. He races to the opposite side of the wagon and securely ties his end off. He gives it a quick tug before returning to stand along side the mercenaries. As the men throw themselves at the wagon, Dhakir joins them.
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The added strength of the camel and Cahal are just enough to get the caravan rolling, and in the nick of time as flames were just starting to lap at the wheels.
Once the caravan is out of harms way the mercs throw themselves at the buckets, and the fire is quickly bought under control.
As soon as the fire is put out, Almah turns to the new comers 'Thank you for your aid, if you would follow me...', with that she motions for Garaval to follow also and heads to her tent.
Once you are all inside, she turns to Garaval, 'I want you to find out if it was a member of our camp that started that fire, use these people' she waves in your direction 'to help, as they weren't here when the fire started and were therefore unable to have played a part.'.
Garaval turns to you, 'Right, the fire destroyed the caravan of Eloais, Almahs personal fortuneteller, he was unfortunately killed in the blaze. You can inspect the caravan for signs of foul play, and I want you to interview the members of the camp, it'll give you a chance to get to know who you'll be traveling and fighting alongside. Do you have any questions?'
"I wish to check on the wounded. And lets us all pray to the Dawnflower that we arrived in time to help"
Mahmoud looks around at the others. "Would anyone like to talk to the members of the camp?"
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Your Alchemy check reveals nothing suspicious about the fire from a chemical standpoint.
If anyone wishes to accompany Cahal or Bahram feel free, otherwise Garaval suggests you could try talk with the Pactmaster Guards, the Mercs, the farmer and his wife, the residen gnoll expert, Dashki, and of course, both Almah and himself are open for questions as well.
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"Greetings and the blessings of Sarenrae upon you all. I am Bahram, follower of the Dawnflower, and newest member of this band. It was my pleasure to use the goddesses’ gifts to help. Can any of you tell me what happened? I should think it an odd event such a fire. Did anything untold occur prior to this disaster?"
"I will go and speak with some of the others in camp. I will start with the mercenaries, I believe. Dhakir, I recall you assisting them. If you would like to come with me as well, they may react more favorably to one who has aided them."
Dhakir stands silently through the meeting, his arms folded across his chest. Once the party is dismissed by Garaval, he turns to leave but stops when he hears his name spoken. After listening to Mirah, he nods, "It was my intention to speak with the mercenaries as well. Let us do so together."
He leads Mirah from the tent and towards where the mercenaries have gathered. As they turn to see the pair approach, Dhakir nods to them in greeting.
"I am pleased that my assistance was able to aid you in salvaging your wagon. Now, we have been tasked with investigating the cause of this unfortunate accident. What can you tell us about it?"
"I will follow Cahal and help him examine the remains of the burnt wagon. Hopefully, we will be able to understand the cause of the fire. Before I go, Lady Almah, if you would pardon my inquiry, could you tell me about Eloais, his duties here at the camp and his relationship with the other members of your entourage?"
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Trevvis mutters under his breath 'Dashki was probably spying on the princess as usual, creepy bastard'.
When you arrive at the burned out wagon you see pretty much what Cahal sees, and are unable to conclusivly put a cause to the start of the fire, but you do see Dashki lurking a short distance away, watching you from behind a nearby wagon.
As for Eloais, none of us really liked him, he was a weakling, but it's still not right burning to death.
After collecting his gear off his camel, Mahmoud makes his way back to the farmer and his wife. "Salaam. I am Mahmoud bin Ali. I am sorry for the lose your community has suffered. How did the fire start?"
"Who is this Dashki? Is he one of the mercenaries? Why would he be spying on the princess??"
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"Did you see or hear anything peculiar in the moments leading up to the fire?"
Mahmoud smiles at the couple. "No, please. Any information you have could be valuable."
"Well perhaps I should go and speak with this fellow. Where would I find him, when he is not trying to sneak a peek at the princess??" Bahram chuckles.
"I thank you for the information. Unless Dhakir has some additional questions, we will go speak with Father Zastoran next." That is indeed my plan.