Lyrian shoulders his pack and makes ready for the ride. "As for me," he says, "I can't wait!"
The interrupted sleep combined with a gnawing hunger has left Rosalia in an extra grumpy mood today, snapping at people fairly arbitrarily as she readies her stuff for loading onto the camels.
"Yeah, I can't wait either," she mutters acidly, "... until I can be on a ship out of this god-forsaken place!"
With inspiring words of teamwork and partnership from Heldar (and sleepy agreement from Javi), the team hauls themselves back into the saddle once again. Shaggar is able to promise that by the coming dawn, they should be within sight of a town called Nemhep: a place with the promise of inns and baths and meals without sand in them, if the group wishes to risk staying in civilization for a day. Perhaps the news lends a bit of comfort to Rosalia?
But for the first few hours, it's more of the same: endless sand and rocks, the waning moon still full enough to let the group see their way without additional light sources. The river is a distant presence to the west, still; tiny, small lights cluster around the bank, marking little fishing villages or other gatherings of people, staying close to the life-giving water.
It's around two-or-three in the morning, and the desert's nighttime chill has settled well into everyone's bones, when...
...everyone but Lyrian can see a shadow floating over the sands. Heldar in particular is reminded of exactly the same sort of motion he saw when the distant hieracosphinx first approached, so he instantly looks upward and sees... another big, winged shape flying in the night sky, sailing towards the little group of travelers.
Having learned from the last experience, the sharp-eyed Pathfinders quickly look around behind them to make sure they're not being ambushed from behind, but the rest of the skies and surrounding desert seem clear of any movement.
Whatcha doing? The winged shape is perhaps 600 feet away.
Rosalia immediately draws her camel to a standstill and dismounts. She keeps the camel's reins in one hand as she brings her gladius out from its scabbard with the other, truly hoping she wouldn't have to fight like this.
As the shadow approaches, she thinks back on that 'guidebook to Osirion' she had read before the trip. There were other types of sphinxes, she recalled vaguely... was this one of them?
It's a bit hard to pick out details on the creature this far away, sadly, and to get an idea of its species. However...
The flying figure has a strong resemblance to the sphinxes you fought some fifteen hours ago, but the head is that of a ram rather than a bird of prey. The beast overall seems more muscular and less avian.
Rosalia, you are fairly sure this is a criosphinx. On the spectrum of sphinxes, they fall somewhere below the wise androsphinxes and gynosphinxes, but well above the cruel hieracosphinxes. They are neutral creatures known to value material wealth. And tasty flesh, but hey.
Shaggar slides off the camel and stakes its reins down. He retrieves his new helmet and slaps it onto his head. His red eyes shine out from deep inside the denuded and beaked skull. The gnoll pulls his axe free and waits... until the beast gets a bit closer.
Thinking better of the opponent swooping through the darkness, the gnoll growls a set of incantations. His hairs bristle and harden. He hefts the axe experimentally and motions Hatyah to stand about 10' away. Then he prepares to set his blade against the beast if it pounces on him from the sky.
Javi continues to snooze in the saddle.
The man can hardly register any details about the creature in the desert sky - but he knows it's there. As the others prepare themselves, Heldar dismounts also - "If my camel bolts, I am not sure I will be able to hold it" - he comments to his companions.
Wanting to be on the safe side, he conjures an incantation to bolster their battle prowess.
With Heldar's sudden absence, Javi begins to slowly slide from the saddle. His closed eyes crack, then widen, then become perfect circles of alarm as he drops jarringly from the high saddle.
WHUMP!
"What the ... ?" Javi staggers to his feet on the hot sand, quickly dusting himself as he rubs his elbow, which so helpfully cushioned his head from a rough impact.
"What's going on?" he begins testily. But seeing the group readying for combat, he stops grumbling and tries to untangle his blade from where it had become wrapped in his desert robes.
You're in a stretch of fairly open sand at the moment, alas, Javi. There's some broken rocks about fifty feet away if you wanted to dart over to them...
But the winged creature sails closer in the night sky, close enough for Rosalia to see the ram's head and relay things to the group. The figure banks into a broad circle, staying well above ground (fifty feet up) and with its head tilting this way and that at the little group of battle-ready travelers.
"Sen benim arazi küçük olanlar..." the creature says in a booming voice that drifts down from on high.
The eyeless falcon skull tracks the sphinx through the sky. Shaggar explains to his comrades who don't speak Osiriani, "He says we are crossing his land." The gnoll chuffs his disbelief to them and then growls his response to the sky in both Osiriani and Common, "No one owns the trackless dunes... and the desert has her own ways of deciding who is master. Be gone or be slain."
The gnoll maintains his readiness to strike if the sphinx attacks.
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The sphinx cocks its ram-like head again, and continues to fly in a large circle. It, or he, judging by the baritone of that voice, does not seem impressed or bothered by Shaggar's growled threat.
"Ah, Taldane," says the deep voice, switching over to that language with a flick of its leonine tail in the air. "The desert has its ways of deciding many things. I perceive you are wearing a trophy from one of the detestable little bird-heads. I thank you for sparing me a house-cleaning task, but if you are under the impression that having dispatched one or two of those flea-ridden wretches grants you carte blanche to wander across my hunting grounds freely, you are, I fear, mistaken."
The mouth of the creature moves again, this time letting out a series of lowing bleats in no humanoid tongue.
The camels, who had been shifting restlessly up to this point and lightly tugging on halter ropes, all sit down abruptly into the sand.
"Shall we talk?" the sphinx says from up above in a bored tone. "Or shall we battle? I don't mind the chance to stretch my claws, but really, it's a fine night and I'm not terribly hungry."
At the sphinx's words, Shaggar glances at his allies skeptically, "A bandit is a bandit to me...but I'm your guide, not your leader. Make your own choice."
Unusually for Heldar's low profile, he steps forward, ahead of the others, trying to defuse the situation, and understand the creature's posture.
"We shall talk" - he speaks calmly in Osiriani - "And we had no way of perceiving we were trespassing. We are simply travelling" - he adds.
Rosalia is happy to see that this sphinx was, at least, not immediately going to charge at them with claws and teeth and... well, probably horns, too. However, Shaggar's warning sits well with her; if the sphinx wanted something from them, she damn well wasn't going to give it to some weird lion-goat.
"We're just travelling," she says, unable to understand Heldar and determined to put her own mark on the conversation either way. "I don't want anything from your territory, I assure you. I'd much prefer to be out of this stinking heat."
(Heldar, you think it's a big, very-confident beast? Possibly over-confident?)
"Excellent," booms the sphinx. The large wings beat the air as the creature settles heavily down onto the sand, about forty feet away from you. The goat-head twists around to look the group over thoughtfully.
"How unfortunate that you do not enjoy the beauty of the desert," the sphinx says drily to Rosalia's words. "I trust you all speak Taldane? I am perfectly happy to converse in it. And may I say, those are extremely fine camels you have there. Well-fed, well-watered..."
Heldar is satisfied that this has not degenerated immediately into a fight, but keeps a cautious posture regarding how things could develop - "Taldane would be absolutely perfect" - he answers - "As for our camels, you are absolutely correct - not only they are fine beasts, as they play an essential role in our trip through the desert sands. We would surely not be able to traverse such expanse without them"
Pondering on the words the creature had spoken before, he adds - "As I said before, we were not aware that this area had been claimed by anyone, hence our route was not meant to intrude - is there any reason why our trip would offend you, or for not being allowed peaceful navigation?" - he inquires.
Lyrian draws an "X" in the air before him with his thumb, neatly framing the space between the sphinx's ears and cheekbones, the intersection right between its eyes. This, he thinks, is where the first arrow will go.
"Shaggar here loves the camels a lot," Rosalia adds with a sly grin, gesturing towards the gnoll as she speaks. She pats the prettiest of the camels fondly. "He would be heartbroken to lose them..."
The sphinx looks depressed at Heldar's words, and heaves a gusty sigh.
"I suppose you won't willingly offer one for your passage, if that's the case. A shame. The middle one looks quite tasty. Lovely fat there, around the humps, one can really sink one's teeth in... "
Rosalia's words make the goat-head arch an eyebrow (which is a weird sight), but the sphinx directs his words at Heldar, apparently deciding he is the only civilized one in the bunch.
"Your trip? No, I could care little for your trip. You are, of course, traveling to a crypt, to steal from the dead of your kind," the sphinx rumbles, examining its... nails, or paw, or whatever. "...and what are the thefts of mortals upon each other to me? But, as I said, you're walking through sands I've claimed as my own. Is it the custom in your lands to let strangers saunter through your home without so much as a by-your-leave? I am quite certain," and here the goat-head turns to regard Shaggar, "that gnolls understand something of the concept of territory.
"You won't surrender a camel, alas. I imagine offering up one of your own number violates your personal moral codes-- and, no offense, but none of you look terribly tasty, you're all rather stringy-- so it doesn't seem you'll be offering me food.
"Fortunately for you, I accept many gifts to signify peaceful intent. Perhaps you have a marvelously-executed painting? A lovely vase? A plate of hammered gold? Precious stones-- rubies go best with my coloring."
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Shaggar seems unperturbed. "Claiming territory is easy. Enforcing that claim is another matter. The moon is fleeting and we have far to go... so I will make you this offer to speed us both on our way..." He pulls out and carefully unwraps the statuette secured in his pack (while maintaining a ready action to Bite - just in case). He holds the statue up for viewing then places it on the sand and returns to holding his axe. "It was created in what the humans call the Middle Dynasty. The figure is quite pretty. Now, you can take this offering... or let's get about adding a new helmet to my collection."
The sphinx perks up at the offering of the statuette. The big beast pads closer, stopping about ten feet from Shaggar and the statuette, large eyes shining gold under the moonlight as it inspects the offering with obvious avaricious delight, its tail twitching back and forth.
"You're a very violent creature, do you know that?" the sphinx tuts at Shaggar, then smiles broadly, revealing a mouthful of carnivore's sharp teeth despite the goat's head. "But your offering is acceptable. Lovely workmanship, hrmnnn, yes. Soapstone, I think?" the beast mutters to itself in a low purr.
"Pass freely and in peace, then, little ones. And mind the weather: there is a storm brewing to the east..."
"You're a very violent creature, do you know that?"
The gnoll pulls off his skull-helm and shrugs. "I would think a sphinx would know the fable of the scorpion and the frog. I'm a gnoll; we are scorpions."
"Pass freely and in peace, then, little ones. And mind the weather: there is a storm brewing to the east..."
Shaggar nods and returns to his camel, coaxing the beast up. "Enjoy the statue, sayyid. You'll find one Hieracosphinx that way. He declined our hospitality."
When the sphinx departs, Lyrian relaxes. "Well done, Shaggar," he says.
The gnoll growls, discontented. "Killing the sphinx would have been more agreeable - I liked that statue."
When everyone is ready, Shaggar leads the troop on through the night.
Rosalia is more than happy to leave the sphinx behind, giving him a polite nod and a vague wave before mounting up on her camel once more.
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The sphinx takes off, its treasure clutched in one leonine paw despite a lack of opposable thumbs, and the group warily watches until Shaggar is satisfied the beast won't return. The camels seem relieved once the beast is gone, and get back to their feet with some bleating (Shaggar's favorite nudges nervously at his shoulder, but is comforted by Daddy Shaggar. Or something).
Back in the saddle again...
Nothing disturbs you the rest of the night. As dawn begins to pierce the east, you see ahead-and-below you the town of Nemhep, a sprawling collection of buildings clinging to the Sphinx's green banks. Boats dot the river's broad surface, fishermen bringing in their catch to sell at first light. Nemhep is no vast metropolis like Sothis, but it is a town of ten thousand souls, and quite a bit can be purchased and obtained within its walls, should you feel the need.
From Nemhep, it will be one more day's travel to the supposed site. Will you indulge yourselves with stay in an inn, with actual beds, and baths, or will you again bunk down amid the sand and rocks and scorpions of the desert?
Rosalia really, really, really, really, really wants a bath. Prestidigitation helps with the worst of her odours, but nothing beats a good, long soak in hot water. She suspects her pores are filled with sand after the long travel.
... That said, she's also not dumb, and will defer to the wisdom of Shaggar and Javi should they think travelling into town is a poor idea. She might just meet their eyes from time to time and sigh heavily from then on. You did this to me, her eyes would say. You made me suffer through this pain.
"We are close to our destination - perhaps close enough that our would be pursuers do not stand a chance of catching up to us before we arrive there?" - Heldar comments with his companions, and directly with Shaggar - "Because I would not shun this opportunity to allow Rosalia the bath I know she so craves" - he smiles at the woman - "And perhaps offer us an additional opportunity to pool our resources for any additional supplies we may think we need?"
With the coming dawn, and the sight of town, Shaggar recalls a useful magic. He glances toward the river for any sign of the Chelaxian galley...
The gnoll chuffs, considering the options and how oppressive the desert may seem to the outlanders. "Hatyah and I will stay hidden here for the day. Enjoy the town and a bath... just be careful."
"That," says Lyrian, "is a spell I must have. What will you take in trade for teaching it, my friend?"
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A cunning and amused look crosses the gnoll's face, "I'll teach it to you for a future favor: I'm no good with words or women. You - I think - have little problem with either. Some day I'll ask your help in convincing a young lady to go on a romantic outing with me. Is it a pact?"
"I have no resources to pool," the tiny thief says as he slides from the saddle and stretches. "I spent it all on some highly-effective sphinx bait."
He considers the town, "And while I'd love to keep pressing on, the town might be our best or only chance to see if our pursuers are actually here or not. Might be worth a few of our hours at least to see if we can dig up word of anyone matching the Chalaxian or his team's descriptions. Sifting for information was never my strength, but I'm happy to help if someone's up for it."
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When it becomes apparent that, yes, she would get to sleep in a real bed, and yes, she would get to have a real bath, Rosalia perks up significantly, and seems the happiest you've probably ever seen her. Is she... is she humming happily?
"Hey, I know a thing or two about getting people to talk. But I might need a translator, because seriously, have your people never heard of Taldane before?"
Shaggar settles down with Hatyah in the lee side of a dune and bids the others to have happy hunting in civilization land...
Those who wish to taste Life in Nemhep make their down to the road that snakes along the river's bank, the road you have been seeing for several days now while denying yourself its easy flatness in favor of hoofing through the desert.
The sun is just above the horizon, but the town, as you walk into it, is filled with hustle and bustle of merchants eager to do business while the day is yet cool. After the days of the desert's immense stillness, the noise of the market stalls that line either side of the main street is almost overwhelming. Fresh-caught fish are thrust in your faces, dyed caftans, hand-woven baskets, bracelets of beaten copper and knives that have yet to ever know a fight.
It can't really hold a candle to the endless bazaar of Sothis, but for a mid-sized small desert town, it's doing its best.
Collectively, you stand out more than you did in Sothis, as there are less foreigners here in Nemhep... although, you think, still more than you might have expected. Especially at the waterfront: barges disgorge people with skin fairer than Rosalia's, Ulfen warriors by the look of them (and most of them badly sunburnt); men with ebon-dark Garundi coloring and robes of rich and intriciate embroidery. Keleshites and Katapeshi all mingle with the native Osiriani. However, you see no sign of any vessels bearing the Cheliax banner, or the livery of Chelish guardsmen.
Some of Rosalia's concerns about the language may be unfounded: there is definitely a smattering of Taldane reaching your ears, although less prevalent than in Sothis. Osiriani is the most heard language, but Kelish, Garundi, and Polyglot all reach your ears.
You make your way down the main street, hunting... well, presumably an inn. What else would you like to find while here?
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As he walks down the main strip, Javi keeps his desert robes pulled up to conceal his features. And you notice he makes the best use he can of the crowds, stalls, and shadows to stay mostly out of sight. Regardless, the spring in his step and twinkle in his eye give away his relief at being around people.
”I don’t see any Chelaxians,” he mutters in Taldan, his voice pitched not to carry beyond the group. ”But if I’m our rich opponent, I’d hire a team of specialists to track us and our key, as opposed to flaunting my colors like some kind of strutting peacock.”
As they walk, Javi considers the problem.
Javi seems to be offering random thoughts as he walks and thinks, "Heldar an Lyrian, why don't you do some poking around for any information you can find on our Chelaxian friend. Mostly if he's here or not. But also it might not be a bad idea to see if there are any new rumors about the tomb. You never know what crazy truths these local dust farmers can stumble upon while they stare at the sun sometimes."
"Agreed," says Lyrian to Shaggar. "What could go wrong?"
Lyrian will take Javi's suggestion and look around to see if he can learn anything regarding the Chelaxian or the tomb. You know, subtle-like.
"And why not?" - Heldar replies to Javi with a smile - "Though... I'd rather we did not separate while in this settlement. Stick around, will you?" - he adds with a wink.
As Lyrian does his thing, Heldar follows along, adding a tidbit here and there, a subtle question about new arrivals, maybe Chelaxian at that. He questions a local about some typical delicacie, then tries to weave in another about the tomb, its whereabouts and/or some folklore - the man seems to be in his environment, and actually not only trying to gather information, but also enjoying the contact with the locals.
And he does not forget about Rosalia, also trying to gather directions for the best bathouse in town.
Javi: it so happens you do have a local contact, more or less-- one of those friend-of-a-friend-of-a-cousin-of-a-friend thing. I know a guy, who knows a guy... You did this job once with an Osirian bruiser who said he had family from this area...
Down a twisting back alley, up a crooked stairwell, and knock four times on the door-- a woman dressed in dull beige robes opens it. In her forties, plain-looking, thoroughly unremarkable... and only Javi's keen thief-eyes detect the little bumps and bulges of a dozen small and deadly weapons hidden under those robes.
Pleasantries are exchanged, mutual acquaintances invoked. After the usual suspicious eyeing, she gestures Javi inside and offers him a seat, and a glass of wine (pouring and drinking herself first, in the particular etiquette common to scallywags).
"I've not seen any figures such as those you describe, but then, the traffic through Nemhep has doubled in the last month," she says, slicing a stalk of sugar cane and offering Javi a half of it. "Few weeks back, one of these damned storms uncovered four pyramids to the east, they say. Since then we've had a flock of the usual treasure-hunting foreigners... no offense meant."
Briefly, she grins. "And not that I mind, either. Foreigners kitting themselves out for tomb-crawling carry nice things, and most of them don't notice if they leave Nemhep with a few less of those nice things....
"Anyway. Lots of foreigners, but none like the group you describe. Did see a squad of Chelish soldiers coming through here two days back, though-- common troops, it looked to me, but wearing Chelish colors, the Thrune cross right there on their breasts. That takes nerve, eh? Arrogant whoresons; I pray that fleas infest their nether regions. They didn't stay long. One night, resupply, then on again."
She pops the end of the sugar cane stalk into her mouth to suck at it, giving Javi a chance to ask any other questions he may have.
Lyrian and Heldar:
A man selling fresh fruit, his cart piled high with figs, apricots, dates, and oranges, is happy to talk. He fans himself with a hand-fan of woven palm fronds, despite it still being relatively cool out, as he talks.
"Chelaxians? Yes, yes-- I saw ten soldiers through here, two days gone. Riding down the main road as if they owned it, ptah... heading east, with all the other foreigners and mad fools," he says, cheerfully not hiding the fact that he considers you to be part of that same sub-set. "None other that I could tell as Chelish, though."
He pauses to try and coax a young lady who is passing by to purchase a pomegranate, telling her that it will win her the heart of any young man she fancies. The girl declines and walks on; the fruit-seller picks up where he left off.
"Tombs, now: yes, there were four pyramids uncovered east of here, by the desert winds! I would guess at least two hundred people have gone that direction to try their hand at stealing from the dead. If you are tempted to the same, my friends, I would advise against it."
He taps the side of his nose in a conspiratorial fashion. "The dead guard their wealth. We in Osirion know this. You foreigners have no respect for the entombed. And that is why so many of you die in our land, yes?
"Some of those two-hundred fortune seekers have come back to town: with empty hands. They said the tombs were long-plundered, nothing but empty death traps remaining. I say: they are the lucky ones, that they came back with their lives.
"You want gold? Here, this apricot: it will bring you more joy. You want rubies? Taste of the pomegranate. Simple pleasures, but the man who is alive to enjoy them is better off than the dead thief draped in finery!
"--oh, the bathhouse? Yes, see now, that is a simple pleasure! And a worthwhile one. Turn left at the temple of Pharaz-Mat and you will find the best of the baths in town. My cousin Anoor runs it."
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Lyrian turns to Heldar. "Two days gone? Can that be them already? How could they have gotten such a lead on us? I think we have to find the others right away."
So saying, Lyrian heads back, trying to reconvene the group.
"Why would you assume they're our... friends?" Rosalia says, seemingly distracted. She's already trying to sneak a peek down the route to the temple of Pharasma--err, Pharaz-Mat. The baths. They're close. She can feeeeeeeel it. "I mean, weren't they on a boat before?" Her feet are already moving down the street towards the spiral-marked temple. "Go tell Javi and Shaggar if you want," she calls flippantly over her shoulder, "but either way there's nothing we can do about it~"
Rosalia will keep an eye out for an inn somewhere in the general vicinity of Anoor's bathhouse.
At the house of a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-cousin-of-a-friend:
Javi follows the woman in with a smile, hopping up to perch on the offered seat. He’s just as quick to partake of the offered wine, making a show of appreciating her hospitality. He likewise accepts the sugar cane, though it goes untouched as he listens to her words... his eyes ranging the house for any potential threats.
When she pauses to chew, he considers a moment, idly swirling the wine. ”I’m sure our colleagues” he winks at the woman in a friendly manner, ”don’t mind the inrush of tourists at all. I’d heard about the pyramids,” he confides honestly, ”It’s why I’m here, actually, but you’ve probably guessed as much, huh? Have any of the treasure-hunters come back from the pyramids, yet? They got anything worth lifting?”
He pauses and looks up at her as he pops a piece of sugar cane into his mouth. ”And are there any local rules I should be aware of? I certainly don’t want to step on anyone’s toes around here… least not folks I’d rather have as friends.”
He chases the cane with another sip before continuing. ”The Chellish … you get a look at their leader?” He quickly describes their opponent, then shrugs as if to say ’you know how these things go’ as he continues, ”I might have tweaked his nose recently. And he might have known I was headed this way. And I’d sure like to locate him before he can do the same with me.”
"Why would you assume they're our... friends?" Rosalia says, seemingly distracted. She's already trying to sneak a peek down the route to the temple of Pharasma--err, Pharaz-Mat. The baths. They're close. She can feeeeeeeel it. "I mean, weren't they on a boat before?" Her feet are already moving down the street towards the spiral-marked temple. "Go tell Javi and Shaggar if you want," she calls flippantly over her shoulder, "but either way there's nothing we can do about it~"
Heldar seems to be as interested in the information they are looking for, as in the products the man is selling - he makes sure to taste, and buy some pomegranates and apricots, their fresh flavour washing from his mouth the taste of sand and... Sphynx..?
Nodding to both Rosalia and Lyrian, he adds when they are alone - "We can't be sure either way I guess, though I feel more inclined to agree with Rosalia - those travelling via the river would most likely arrive here first than we could. We can check it with Shaggar later on"
Looking puzzled at Rosalia, the man continues - "No way" - he smiles - "I am also going to the baths. Who kows how long it will be until we will ever be able to immerse ourselves in water again" - he finishes with a good natured laugh, moving along after Rosalia.