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Asmani watches as her friends move to intercept the thieves, but makes no move to do the same herself. Instead, she sips her coffee, examining the slender half-orc as he comes pounding their way.
The woman cackles for a second and delicately lays the kid down over a patch of vegetation. She produces a phial, dips some oil on the stub of her left hand and anoints Theshen’s forehead; with her other hand she anoints the fingernail of Theshen’s left hand’s thumb. Raising the healer’s hand, she seems to use his oiled thumb as mirror, tilting her head and murmuring unintelligible words before her eyes open wide and she speaks, her lips almost touching Thesen’s skin: ”I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring. I see the burnt-skinned merchant. He carries something on his back…and it is green. It is something I’m forbidden to see.” The old lady falls to the ground, panting.
At the main camp, the three thieves find themselves between the angry half-orc behind them and Shu-kri’s menacing spear blocking their way forward. They stop and try to look for an exit, which gives Rawiya just enough time to tackle the teenager and pin him to the ground. All around them people scream for the guards. The other two seem to give up, bowing and putting their hands above their heads, palm against palm.
Theshen is fascinated by the woman's description - and then fearful for her when she falls.
He rushes to assist her to her feet.
"Are you alright, Elder?"
"Thank you so much for your help!" the ruddy faced half-orc says to both Rawiya and Shu-kri with a short polite bow to each.
He puts his unloaded crossbow back in its accustomed place.
"Now then, you lot", he says to the thieves, strumming the pommel of his gladius with one hand, and holding his other hand out expectantly, "give it back! ALL of it, mind."
Once he's satisfied he's got everything back, he addresses the thieves again:
"So, what next? Want to take your chances with the local magistrates?
"Or collecting camel dung for cooking fires from Uncle's caravan?
"Second choice will get you fed and a good word to Sarenrae.
"Work hard enough for Uncle, you'll get paid about as much as you could've stolen anyway."
While waiting for an answer to his proposal, the half-orc address Shu-kri and Rawiya:
"Sorry! Manners! I'm Sorkesh from Soklu, in Katapesh.
"I'm with my uncle's caravan bound for Eto.
"I thank you for helping me recover some of Uncle's belongings."
Sorkesh is clearly gregarious, even naive, as well as immaculately dressed.
Rawiya gets up from the ground, dusts off her clothing, and nods once, politely, at Sorkesh.
"I am Rawiya."
She steps back towards the tents and begins gathering up the coffee glasses to return them to the vendor.
A caravan? Bound for Eto? That's an interesting coincidence. I don't like coincidences.
Rawiya slips away to return the items to the coffee vendor. Coming back, she lingers at the edges of the campsite, watching the half-orc carefully.
"Thank you so much, Rawiya!" Sorkesh says, and helps her gather up the stolen gear.
Waiting for Rawiya to return Sorkesh, proves himself quite the chatterbox as he tries making small talk with Shu-kri:
"What brings you and your friend here to this place, then?
"I'm just travelling with one of my uncle's caravan.
"Have a posh life in Solku, so trying my hand at a spot of adventure.
"Just like Mum and Dad did many years ago.
"Wasn't the most exciting start this, was it?
"Me trying to threaten three starving thieves with an unloaded crossbow and all", he says with a chuckle
... he'll keep chattering about nothing in particular unless Shu-kri actually starts saying something.
When Theshen approaches the woman, her panting explodes in laughter. ”Bloody hell, healer, ye probably nicked off some 6 months of me life.” She extends a hand so Theshen can help her stand up. ”Ye probably undid all yer healing now! Here, child, come, we need to join the hour’s prayer now. Won’t be seeing ye again, healer. Sarenrae be with ye.” The fortune teller limps back to her camp, laughing and cackling. It is then that the healer hears the sudden commotion behind him. Turning, he sees three men being chased and then surrounded by an angry mob.
Amidst the racket, shortly after Rawiya begins to gather the coffee cups, guards from the garrison arrive, lead by Nenet. Rolling her eyes, she gestures towards the teenager and the two men. ”Here are the thieves. This is our second day out of Sothis, the second attempt at robbery we witness and the second time my associates stop it long before any guards appear. You and your captain tarnish the name of the Ruby Prince with your incompetence. Go on, take these ruffians away!”
The old man accompanying Sorkesh bows to Shu-kri and Nenet. ”Your altruism is as boundless as the desert sands, travellers. I am Ptennisnet, travelling merchant, on my way to Eto, as my babbling nephew has said. Is there any way we can repay your bold and selfless act of kindness?”
Sorkesh will put himself between the guards and the thieves.
"Not so fast!", he says, "I offered them a chance to choose repentance by Sarenrae's name for what they've done."
Then he looks at the thieves... "Last chance. Either shovel camel s*~@ for my distinguished uncle, or take your chances with these guards."
Then he bows to Ptennisnet: "Your too kind as ever, Uncle! Just like your dazzling cousin, my dear mother."
Sorkesh is clearly accustomed to flattering the old boy...
If anyone raises their eyebrows at a young half-orc and older human referring to each other as nephew and uncle, Sorkesh pays no mind.
Rawiya looks suspiciously at the old man and the half orc.
Is it possible that my uncle does business with these people? Has my brother ever mentioned the old man?
Theshen bows his head to the old woman as she turns to leave.
"I intended no harm, Elder, and thank you for the reading. Isis watch over you."
At the sound of ruckus, he turns and jogs to rejoin his companions.
Reaching them, he asks:
"Friends, what has transpired in my absence? The mob looks angry!"
One of the guards – his rank indicated by the red scarf on his neck – speaks to Sorkesh, his expression sour and annoyed: ”Did these men try to steal from you, Katapeshi? If so, their punishment is the domain of the Ruby Prince’s law, for he is wise and fair, not your foreign customs. Be aware that a lie to us is a slap on the face of our hospitality.” The thieves are now prostrated and silent, their heads touching the ground, sheepishly awaiting their fate. Ptennisnet is also quiet, interested in how his nephew will handle the situation.
Rawiya curses her lack of interest on her family’s business affairs. All she can remember is that her uncle did have connections in Katapesh – as any respectable merchant would have. She specifically remembers something about trading spices spices and fine herbs.
Rawiya looks at the animosity building between the head of the guards and Sorkesh, and decides the best place for her is seated on her heels next to the tent with her head turned away and her scarf pulled forward to obscure her face.
I don't need to be drawn into someone else's problems with the guards. Better not to attract official attention.
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What's with people making their own laws in this dry-ass country?
"Well, they tried stealing from my uncle.
"And they failed miserably, as you can see.
"All I did was offer them a chance to make an honest living instead.
"And it is true that this is the first time I left Katapesh.
"All I can do is offer you these truths..."
With that, he sits cross-legged on the ground.
He just looks at the lead guard with a passive expression.
Theshen watches, guessing at what has transpired but unsure how to act.
The officer fixes his dead-eyed stare on Sorkeh before yelling an order and gesturing at the three prostrated thieves. ”Thank you for your collaboration, foreigner. I assure you that the law of the Ruby Prince, who is wise and benevolent, will adequately handle these ruffians.” With a half-bow, the guards leave, dragging the prisoners.
Ptennisnet shakes his head. ”Sorkesh, my child, you still have much to learn. A country’s laws are a country’s laws; it is disrespectful to disobey them when you’ve been here barely a week.” The merchant takes a piece of cloth and wipes his greasy rotund face. ”Well, now, workers of miracles sent by Sarenrae herself, how may I repay your courageous kindness? Say, the lovely lady who tackled the boy, I remember seeing her interested in some of our coffee brass. It is not part of the shipment we are carrying to Eto, and so I would be happy to leave it to you as a token of gratitude. Would that please your charming friend?” Not seeing Rawiya hidden near her tent, he looks at the closest group member.
Sorkesh stands up and dusts himself off.
"The Ruby Prince is a stodgy pratt!" Sorkesh thinks to himself.
"I just need time to get used to the idea", he finally says to his uncle.
Despite his absent-minded manner, Sorkesh somehow spots Rawiya.
"There she is, Uncle!" he says as he points at Rawiya.
"Well, then, don't be shy!
"You did help Uncle, so come and get your reward.
"You earned it!" he says to her with a friendly smile.
"Oh, yes! This lady helped us too", Sorkesh adds, pointing to Shu-kri.
Shu-Kri sucks her teeth. "I merely stood up."
Reward? You don't give out 'rewards' for helping maintain an orderly community. That's just being a good citizen
Rawiya reluctantly stands and walks over next to Shu-kri.
"Thank you, but doing the right thing does not need to be rewarded. "
Theshen steps up and introduces himself to the merchant and his nephew.
"Many greetings, Effendi. It appears that this night has worked out well enough for you. I am Theshen, part of this group, though alas not in a position to assist this time."
Sorkesh looks puzzled at both Shu-kri and Rawiya, and then shrugs.
"Suit yourselves. But thanks all the same for your help all the same."
Then to Theshen, he says "Shame. You missed a bit of fun. Such that it was.
"I'm Sorkesh from Solku. My uncle allowed me to accompany his caravan", he says, motioning to Ptennisnet.
"You can probably tell that this is my first time out of Katapesh.
"So I'm a bit like a fish out of water.
"Soooo... Shouldn't we sit down somewhere more comfy?
"And have some tea or coffee or something to chat?"
He looks expectantly among Ptennisnet, Thesen, Rawiya, and Shu-Kri...
Social graces are definitely [u]not[/u] Sorkesh's strength...
Rawiya does not roll her eyes. She looks at Nenet for guidance.
Nenet, standing close to Rawiya puts her hand on the bard's shoulder and gently squeezes it, as if in a gesture of reassurance. She speaks, donning her most inviting smile: "Dear travellers, I am ashamed you have been here barely a week and already experienced the thorns of our beautiful country. We are the ones who should be offering you gifts as an apology. You may call me Nenet. It is such a fortuitous coincidence that our destinations are the same, no? Simply delightful. My dear friends, surely we cannot miss the opportunity to hear tales from Katapesh. Perhaps even make new friends over drinks?”
The old merchant bows. "You see, dear nephew? This is Osirion at its finest. Learn from these fine and just people. Sarenrae willed we met them, it is clear! I should go and kiss those petty thieves for the grace they have brought us."
For those who have travelled for sometime with Nenet, it's clear there is something almost hostile about her aggressive friendliness towards the old merchant and the half-orc who claims to be his nephew.
Shu-Kri says nothing, and tries not to act interested in what's bothering Nenet.
Sorkesh smiles, clearly pleased with himself. "Well, it is a good start, Uncle."
"I wonder if Mother or Father started the adventuring like this?" he asks himself.
Radiya steps back, her eyes on Nenet. "I will fetch more coffee from the vendor."
She walks over to the coffee vendor's tent.
"We have some unexpected visitors. Could you prepare a few more glasses of coffee, please? I know it's late, but I don't think this conversation will end soon. Best be be able to offer customary hospitality, I think."
She waits patiently as the vendor grinds the beans and heats the water.
When the coffee is ready, she hands him a few coins and flashes a big smile.
"Back to the den of the lioness."
As she walks back toward the tents, she searches out Theshen and carefully offers the tray to him.
"Perhaps you can moderate the mood between those two,"she says in a quiet voice.
Sorkesh will join Nenet and the others, waiting to hear what's said next.
In reply to Sorkesh:
"A pleasure to meet you, Sorkesh."
------------
After Rawiya's words, Theshen is confused but does take the tray and start walking towards the others. He will first begin passing coffee to Sorkesh, recalling Nenet's words about guests. He asks in a breezy tone, not just intended for Sorkesh.
"So, Sorkesh, how have you found your travels in Osirion thus far? Before tonight's business?"
"Kind of uneventful, until just then, actually.
"I was expecting things to be a bit more adventuresome.
"My parents used to adventure, many years ago.
"But I missed the bit about long stretches of boredom.
"Apparently."
The night passes pleasantly as Nenet and Ptennisnet clash in a fierce battle of pleasantries. Theshen bravely attempts interrupting whatever it is that is happening, but his interventions have little effect. At the climax of the friendly confrontation, the old merchant coyly says: ”You see, my dearest friend whose place is safely inside my heart, Katapeshi are simply not as cultured as Osirians. If I were to leave my nephew in your company, in three days the boy would be more learned than the Pactmasters themselves.” Before Nenet can finish her rebuttal, Ptennisnet seizes the opportunity: ”It is settled, then! I shall leave the boy with you and we shall meet in Eto. If the boy has less than three fantastic tales to tell – one a day – I will accept that Katapeshi and Osirians are equals in their many talents! What do you say, effendis? Do you care for this little bet?” Nenet blinks in silence, diplomatically outmatched.
After a good night's sleep, Rawiya is up before dawn, going to the tents of the brass merchant whose work most pleased her.
After a few minutes of outrageous flattery, she walks away with a lovely tray, glasses, pot, and mortar and pestle, which will allow her to prepare coffee each morning, having spent a little less than she had initially set as her maximum.
Theshen certainly realises that *something* is going on. He has never heard such *forceful* politeness.
"Er, that seems reasonable to me." he says, somewhat bewildered by the goings-on.
Theshen is not sure on what is going what the confrontation might be about, but he cannot help but notice that Nenet often seemed to put herself between the merchant and Rawiya.
After a healthy amount of haggling, indignant shouting and mutual claims of being dragged into poverty by unfair prices, Rawiya leaves the merchant with a victorious smile – a full coffee brewing set for a measly 2GP. She manages to reach the camp just in time to depart.
Sorkesh looks well pleased with the exchange of pleasantries between his uncle and Nenet.
"Goody! Be right back!" is all Sorkesh says before dashing out the tent ...
... reappearing shortly after with a fully loaded backpack.
"I was wondering if I'd get a chance to use this! Thanks again, Uncle!"
Then he bows politely to Nenet "Sorkesh at your service, Lady!"
"Many welcomes, Sorkesh.", Theshen says with only the barest hint of confusion under the warmth.
He then begins looking for an opportunity to get lady Nenet alone for a private word, without being too obvious about it. He will wait for another day if necessary.
The sun rises and the group wakes up to an ailing Badhru. The roguish half-orc is struck with a severe bout of nausea, vomiting and other unpleasant effects. He’s quickly diagnosed by Theshen as suffering from a type of dysentery very common to recently arrived Avistani – not fatal, but nevertheless vile and debilitating.
With no time to lose the group sets about on its journey to Eto, Sorkesh in tow – unknowing of his status as a barely tolerated nuisance by most of his new travel companions. Nenet continues playing the hostess, even if she seems wholly uncomfortable around the half-orc.
Four hours of travelling go by without any event worthy of note, only the endless sea of sand, a breathtaking sight in its desolate beauty. Just as the sun becomes too hot, Nenet raises a hand and points west, where a dark shadow looms and grows. ”Sekhmet’s merciless breath approaches! We need to find shelter, my friends, quick!” The wind starts picking up and it is already difficult to see much in the distance. The sandstorm will reach the adventurers in less than a minute.
There are two rock formations nearby, one north and just outside the group’s field of vision, the other to the south, but much closer. They also have passed another rock formation, much bigger than the closer ones, a few minutes ago.
Sandstorms move fast, it will be impossible to reach the larger rocks in time.
The southern formation looks too unstable to provide a reliable refuge.
"Make haste to the first rock formation! Heads on a swivel!"
Theshen leaps to action, beginning to run:
"Rush to the nearest rocks! The sandstorm comes swiftly!"
Rawiya looks confusedly toward the rock formations, but follows Shu-Kri and Theshen since they sound quite commanding.
Sorkesh also follows Shu-Kri and Theshen.
"Lead on! I've heard sandstorms can be nasty!"
Shu-Kri leads them to the northern rocks.
Those who run to the southern rocks reach them just in time before the first impact of the storm. The respite offered by the rocks is short-lived, however: after just a few minutes many of the boulders seem to wobble and inch away, carried by the screeching winds.
The noise and lack of visibility are completely disorienting: Sorkesh and Theshen still have their bearings and know where they came from; everyone else has lost any sense of direction.
Those who run to the northern rocks are almost knocked prone by the gust of wind and dust as the storm arrives. They reach the boulders crawling – dry mouths caked with sand. To their surprise, the rocks hid an entrance to a small cavern where they might be completely protected from the elements, but also cut off from whoever decided to go to the southern formation.
Rawiya seens Shu-kri and Theshen move in different directions.
With the boulders proving no shelter, Theshen grabs at the others and points towards where he saw the next safest boulders, and begins moving.
Shouting over the storm's noise: "How long do these storms last?"
In the chaos, Nenet followed Shu-kri and Rawiya, dragging Badhru behind herself, whilst Asmani quietly followed Theshen.
Theshen, avoids panicking and guides Sorkesh and Asmani to the northern rocks. It’s a gruelling trip with sand that would surely flail their skins off if they stayed outside for too long – something they feel reassured won’t happen once they reach the northern boulders and see they hid an entrance to a small cave.
With so much going on, it's hard for Sorkesh to remember how long dust storms last.
Theshen hurriedly leads those near him into the cave, trying to account for whomever he can.
Sorkesh follows along; muttering some 'colourful' phrases along the way...
Asmani stumbles into the cave, coughing through the veil she's plastered across her face, eyes gummed up with dust and sand. She catches herself against the rock wall and immediately uncorks her water bottle, taking a sip and spitting the muddy silt to the ground.
"That's why you should never leave the blasted city," she says, voice a low rasp. "Give me a tavern and all its perils any day of the week. This is madness."
The entrance is small, barely enough for guiding the camels inside – who seem grateful for the respite from the flailing sands. After a short descent through a narrow tunnel, the group finds itself in a pitch-black chamber. Nenet picks up a pebble and with a few short whispers makes it shine bright enough to reveal a modestly-sized cave. She promptly puts a feverish Badhru leaning against a wall and gives him some water. “It can be a few hours before the storm passes, my friends. Make yourselves at home,” she says with some annoyance, taking a sip from her own bottle and spitting silt on the ground.
There is a tunnel that seems to go further down on the southwest corner of the cave. Shu-kri, Sorkesh and Theshen notice that the camels seem to avoid going anywhere near it.