Welcome to the Legacy of Fire, folks! I'm excited to get this started. For this initial post, people are welcome to read the other spoiler posts if you want, but after this post, don't click on a spoiler unless your name is on it. And please keep OOC knowledge about each other separate from in-game. I know you guys, I trust you. Still, a friendly reminder!
After months of empty searching, it seems the fruits of your labor have paid off. Abadar always rewards the hard-worker. One of your contacts within the church claims she uncovered rumors regarding a halfling woman that matched the description of Haleen. They say she was inquiring about the town of Kelmarane before she disappeared. Your brother, Amiamble, thought the idea was preposterous. He claimed it was a ghost town, where bad things once happened to the people that lived there. You didn’t care, though. It was the only lead in months. It had to be real.
The hand of Abadar seemed to put everything in place for you. Days after your discovery, you stumbled upon an advertisement in the city of Katapesh. The mysterious Pactmasters were sending a caravan to the old town of Kelmarane in an effort to strengthen the nation’s trade routes between Katapesh and Osirion. The clergy of the church of Abadar easily gave you their blessing to participate in this endeavor, as empowering trade between two nations is what the god of civilization would approve of. It all seemed meant to be.
The contact for the caravan, a Keleshite by the name of Garavel, initially laughed at the idea of bringing about two halfling brothers as mercenaries. However, the prospect of pleasing the church of Abadar was enough to let you and Ami aboard his crew. Within a little over a week, you would arrive at Kelmarane. And Haleen would be waiting with open arms, you were certain.
Along the way, you realize that others were also brought aboard as mercenaries. It seems there are more that have their reasons for coming to Kelmarane. Ami’s ominous warnings of Kelmarane’s previous fate does nothing to deter your confidence, though. Abadar himself has put you on this path to find Haleen.
When he told you that he believed Haleen was in Kelmarane, you scoffed. Why would anyone, let alone Haleen, be there? From what you knew, the town had been abandoned for many years. Tales from your travels throughout the desert say that something terrible happened there. Everyone had their own story as to what happened, but they all seemed to have the same ending- Kelmarane is not a place to live. It’s a place to die.
Aldebert believed everything was part of some divine fortune falling into your hands. He had discovered that a caravan, issued by the great Pactmasters of Katapesh themselves, would be leaving soon for Kelmarane and were requesting additional mercenaries. You were excited about a long trek out into the deserts, but at the same time frustrated that it would be in the company of other strangers. They judge you based on your scars. They don’t understand you like Aldebert, Yeenoghu, or the Sun do.
The man in charge of the operation, a Keleshite named Garavel, laughed at your brother’s initial application, and he looked at you with judgmental eyes. However, Aldebert has always been very convincing, and shortly after, the two of you were off on a new journey.
The last several days of travel through the northern scrublands of Katapesh have been hot and baking as usual, but you don’t mind. The Sun is your friend, and you welcome her companionship. Between her, Aldebert, and Yeenoghu, you have all you need. These strange faces all around have such differing stories, some interesting, some tragic, but all seem to have a similar purpose to your brother’s. They all seem to think Kelmarane holds the answers they seek. You just hope the answer isn’t death.
When Garavel had mentioned the prospect of joining his crew as mercenaries, headed into the heart of gnoll territory, your brother Mahdi immediately leapt at the chance. Frustration and anger quickly flared, but you were always good at keeping your cool around others. But, it was just like Mahdi to put himself in the line of danger. And once again, you would have to make sure you were there to bail him out. You hated the gnolls as much as your brother did, even willingly accepting the occasional assassination job on local gnoll slavers, just to slake a bit of revenge. But if there’s one thing you learned long ago, it’s that you can’t let your emotions control you. Besides, you had no desire to throw yourself back into the hell that you escaped from so many years ago.
As the two of you traveled to Solku to rendezvous with Garavel’s caravan, you find you weren’t the only mercenaries hired for the job. In fact, you weren’t the only set of brothers hired either. It seems others were interested in Kelmarane for their own motivations as well. It didn’t matter to you, though. You were just determined to make sure Mahdi didn’t get himself killed.
Throughout the years, as you went to school and furthered your studies, you were never quite able to suppress your longtime hatred for gnolls like your brother seemingly had. Somehow, it seemed he was able to move on from it and put it out of his mind. But you never did. As your grasp of the arcane and the flames of magic grew, your painful memories of your past fueled your hatred to new heights. You’ve been hoping to someday utilize your new powers against those that tried to steal your life from you. And in Kelmarane, you finally saw your chance. For, if the rumors are to be true, Kelmarane is infested with gnolls. Some even say their leader, one called the “Carrion King,” ruled over it.
Maybe, perhaps, you’d even run into the ones that stole your parents from you. The one with the scar across its face. You’ve never forgotten that face, or that laugh.
Without hesitation, you took up Garavel on his offer and joined his caravan as a mercenary, along with your brother. You’re certain you saw a look of anger and frustration in his eyes as you accepted the job without discussing it first, but you knew it would be in his best interests too. After all, why wouldn’t he want revenge against those monsters as well?
As you rendezvoused with the caravan in Solku, you saw that there were others hired for the job as well. They all have their own reasons to travel to Kelmarane as well, but that doesn’t matter. You are a student of fire, and you are ready to bring your teachings to the gnolls of Kelmarane.
The dreams have become more and more vivid, but the meaning has never been clear. Ever since you began to follow the teachings of Lalaci, you felt that perhaps it was a sign. This town that appeared in your dreams must be where your destiny awaited. Through conversations with locals, you came to realize the village built around a hill had a name: Kelmarane. Curious, you set out to find the one person who always seemed to have answers for the things that troubled you.
Haleen was several years older, but the two of you became friends quickly at a young age. She helped teach you much of what you know about herding, and as you grew older, she admired the mystical side of your personality, often inquiring about her fate and destiny. She was very knowledgeable of Katapesh and the surrounding settlements, so it made sense that she might know something about Kelmarane, which would help to understand the puzzle of your dreams. However, after a couple of months, your search bared no fruit and it seemed she had simply disappeared.
Then, by chance or fate, while dealing with some of the locals of the church of Abadar, you overheard Haleen’s name. It seemed one of her brothers, Aldebert, had been utilizing his contacts within the church to try and track down his sister as well. From what you could gather, it appeared the last sighting anyone had of Haleen was some time ago, and she had been discussing a very interesting name with some of the shadier citizens of the city. The name was “Kelmarane.”
Fate seemed to be pulling you in this direction, and as you followed her brothers’ trail, you discovered they had enlisted with a caravan headed to Kelmarane as mercenaries, along with some others that were unfamiliar. The man in charge of picking his crew, a Keleshite man named Garavel, was looking for one more before departing. It was no surprise to you that he accepted your request to join after describing the benefits you could bring to his team. After all, the path was already laid out before you. You knew where it would lead you. But, as you’ve been traveling for some time, headed closer and closer to the town hidden under the mountain, the dreams have become stronger. Kelmarane is where opportunity awaits, but... What else seems to be waiting for you there?
The desert sun has been unrelenting over the last ten days. What at first seemed like an endless ocean of sand has slowly given shape to a distant, ominous figure that grows larger and larger. The Pale Mountain, its immense outline looming over the horizon like a tombstone. And Kelmarane rests in its shadow.
Garavel had briefed each of you over the last few days on Kelmarane. The village was primarily known for its battle market, which attracted many to come participate or spectate in its glories. The town itself is positioned in a prime location, nestled closed to a popular trade route between Katapesh and Osirion. The Pactmasters are very interested it seems in reclaiming this village to strengthen trade between the two desert kingdoms. And you five have been chosen to assist in reclaiming the village from the gnolls that currently occupy it.
Garavel has been personally escorting all of you to meet up with the remainder of the caravan. Others have all been gathered and are meeting at The Sultan’s Claw, an old tree that is said to resemble a giant skeletal talon than a thing of living wood.
”When we arrive at the Claw, you will all be following orders under Almah, the one in charge of this whole operation. She’s a merchant princess, part of a family that traces their heritage back several generations to Varisia. She’s a proud woman, and very firm. But she’s also loyal and kind, and she will always support you as long as you pay her the proper respect.” Garavel had said just a few nights prior. ”I oversee all of her personal affairs, and she designated me to pick out a small crew of mercenaries to assist in battling the gnolls. Your success or failure reflects on me, so don’t screw it up,” he growled while taking a drink from his waterskin.
”You’ll meet everyone once we arrive in a couple of days. I’m not sure who else Almah was able to hire, so I can’t tell you much more about the caravan except that Dashki and Father Zastoran will be joining us as well. An interesting bunch, I’d say.”
After ten days of travel, Garavel says that you should be coming upon the Sultan’s Claw very soon.
I like all of the banter and conversation that happened in the Discussion thread, so I will assume that happened over the last several days. While I’m sure it would be a blast for you guys to roleplay out ten days of overland travel, I’d like for this campaign to, you know, actually start. :)
Go ahead and describe your character, what he looks like, and what he’s been doing during this time of travel. Just to fast-forward time a bit, feel free to include any information that you think you would have shared with new traveling companions over the last ten days as well.
Mahdi smiles at the sight of the Claw upon the horizon, rolling his shoulders side to side against the built-up aches of days of travel. While he is not, perhaps, as soft as his very citified appearance might suggest, he would still rather be at their destination than sleeping beneath the sky and traveling in the brutal heat.
And he is not a patient young man anyway.
"Journey's end, for now," he tells the others, and picks up his pace towards the ragged old tree.
In appearance, Mahdi is a slim young man of average height, his brown skin made darker by a lifetime spent under Katapeshi suns. Still, his youthful face shows little sign of the weathering that results when one is exposed to the desert winds and sandstorms: half of his life has been spent within Katapesh's streets and buildings, rather than on the open road.
Mahdi has dark, intense eyes, and beneath them the blue-black ink of tattoos on his upper cheekbones so common to natives of the region. Aside from his face, very little of his skin can be seen other than his hands: long-fingered, deft, and almost entirely free of the calluses that come with honest labor, or even a sword's hilt.
He dresses in the usual desert robes, keeping head and body covered to conserve moisture as much as possible. He favors bold colors in his robes, reds and oranges and yellows. It is probable that the desert will bleach everything to a dull beige eventually.
Beneath his keffiyeh, Mahdi has an awful lot of curly black hair, but it's not usually on display.
A scorpion darts in and out of the young wizard's robes and pockets and pouches, no doubt causing initial alarm (to Mahdi's great delight). He calls the hand-sized scorpion Sa'amm, and enjoys showing off that he has no fear of the little beast's poison, but instead regards it as a friend. The scorpion is as boldly-colored as its master, with the dull brown of a normal scorpion replaced by stark patterns of red on glossy black. Mahdi has made it clear the scorpion is his pet, and poses no danger to anyone in the group.
By the time they reach the Claw, everyone in the caravan is probably quite aware that Mahdi likes to talk. He argues (he would call it 'debating') about many things-- not out of a spirit of contrariness, but regarding it as a fun rhetorical game. He bears no grudges for these disputes, though others might.
He also likes to show off. Mahdi has entertained (or annoyed) the others in the group by such tricks as thrusting his hand into their campfire at nights in order to draw forth flaming brands, or by making the flames of the campfire dance around his person. He claims to be descended from an efreet. He is prone to moods; one minute laughing at jest (possibly his own), and the next settling into a sullen, watchful silence as he observes the horizon for signs of gnolls. His fits of temper never last too long, gone as quick as a gust of desert breeze.
He makes no secret of being a wizard.
Ami reluctantly pulls his scarf over his suntanned face, tucking in the edges so that only is eyes can be seen. His forehead and from his nose on down are covered by the white scarf.
Ami takes another last gander from the sandy hill he and Yeenoghu can ranged to for scouting purposes. Ami had taken it upon himself to scout for the caravan.
"Yep, just as you said, Yeenoghu, there is nothing on this hill. I guess we should go back, huh?" Ami runs and jumps directly into Yeenoghu's saddle...
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9 Ride for Quick Mount
...in which he jumps to early and ends up banging his head in Yeenoghu's flank, earning an angry tail swish from the 'cat'. After looking around to make sure no one saw that, Ami grabs Yeenoghu's saddle pommel and climbs into the saddle. I'll get that one day.
In the saddle, Ami looks around again to see if any new dangers have presented itself, then looks to the caravan where his brother Aldebert probably waited for him. Ami knows that Adle will likely be cross with him...but exploration was important...as was running free.
Yeenoghu slowly turns his body to return to the caravan like Ami promised...but Ami, spying another hill up ahead, instead whips off his protective scarf and kicks Yeenoghu toward the other hill.
"One more hill, Yeenoghu! Then we go back, I promise," Ami says as the 'cat' makes his way towards the next, no doubt identically uninteresting, sandy hill. As they ride, Ami closes his eyes and turns his face to the Sun as they go, trying to soak up as much of the blessed relief as he can before they have to return.
الثناء على الآلهة، ونحن هنا.
Malki turns from guiding the pack camels and smiles at the brothers Piddlespot and al-Jabira.
"Praise Lalaci, we are here. May fortune favor us in this place, and shade grant us a few hours of rest."*
A tall, lanky man with a youthful face and wise, almost entrancing eyes, Malki dresses humbly, with once bright tob, kibr, and oba topped by a newer, bright, many-hued turban. A scraggly, downy beard dusts his face, two week's growth that makes him look like little more than an adolescent, in spite of the thirty summers of his life. Depending on the light, a thousand colors speckle in his bright, clear eyes.
Around his neck hangs a fine glass kaleidoscope with rainbow lenses—the holy symbol of Lalaci.
In his right hand he grips his longspear, most often used lightly as a walking stick or blunt-end first as a gentle goad. He pats one of the camels reassuringly with his right, and with it retrieves the brass bowl into which he so often conjures water. Placing it on the ground, he prays for more and lets the camel drink.
He looks up and winks at Mahdi, with whom he's had several light-hearted debates. "Perhaps here you'll find the ancient wizard's tome or efreet lamp you've been seeking. Mind that you state your wishes careful and true, my friend."
Turning to the Piddlespots, he prays aloud, "May our path take us soon to my friend and your sister. I pray that the sands have granted her a journey as safe and swift as ours, and that the palms have protected her from the ceaseless sun."
* It occurs to me that I'm not sure what our 'common' language is in this campaign. Kelish?I've given him Kelish and Polyglot as languages, but can easily change that up.
Aldebert is a halfling, short even for his race - something that vexes him and will almost always rile him up into an argument. He wears the common beige desert garb, very fine, but well worn. He adorns it with gold where he can, though it's clear that much that was there has been sold recently. He still manages a clutch of gold earrings in his left ear ranging from the tip to half way down the ear - all four the same size and oblong.
He carries a guisarme almost always, and wears Scale armor when on guard (as the heat allows…). He takes great pride in his gear and is often cleaning it of the desert sands that accumulate in the joints and joins. When he can he practices rather than rests, always trying a new maneuver or other.
When he's not practicing, he's preaching a bit, though not to convert necessarily. He devoutly loves the cities and is having a hard time in the country. He loves the sound of the seller in the market, the din of so many people in such a crowded space, the smells, oh yes, he even loves the smells. The so-called fresh air of the desert stings his nose in a way that seems odd to those that hear him complain.
But he does not always belly-ache. He works hard even doing the scut work when he sees it needs to be done. And while he's a devout Abadarian, he enjoys hearing about other religions and never puts down anyones belief system. "We're all entitled to our own beliefs, however right or wrong they may be. Well, within reason of course! hahaha!"
Aldebert is also quite devout to his younger brother, often checking with him for approval. He speaks too of the upcoming gnoll fights. He's eager to remove the gnolls from civilized society, but concerned about his ability to do so…
Hazim is very thin, bordering on gaunt. His hair is long, but generally kept covered in a hood or turban for the heat. He is quiet and somewhat brooding, but when spoken to he opens up, and loves to tell stories and talk. He always seems to have one eye on his brother Mahdi.
The further the caravan travels, the more serious he becomes, and he can often be seen scanning the horizon, looking at the mountains and the edges of dunes for anything hostile. He wears a beautiful, but old, scimitar at his side. He rubs the hilt often when on the lookout.
Mahdi flashes a white smile in answer to Malki's counter-tease. "A precious book or a lamp with a bound spirit are fine treasures. I would also accept a gnoll or two who thinks we're easy prey. There's the matter of an accounting to be rendered there."
He glances sidelong at Hazim, to see his brother's reaction to his words, then returns his attention to the road. The halfling who serves Abadar sounds like he will be a good colleague in seeing the stinking dog-men driven from this corner of the desert. Mahdi is less than patient on this count.
Malki smiles edgily at Mahdi's words. He says quietly, out of earshot of the holy warrior of Abadar,
"Ah, yes. Accounting. I suppose a man's fortune may be revenge, but I should hope these dunes shall give you more than dog blood. Not that I'm defending the jackal men. I suppose there're gentler ones, but I've no love of those who sell men like chattal. Lalaci would have us all free to find our way."
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12 Perception for gnollsign
Finding nothing on his current hill and sure his brother is worried about him, Ami re-tucks his scarf in, covering his head and mouth and resigns himself towards social contact.
"As I promised, Yeenoghu. We go back now...and yes, you'll get a treat this evening," Ami says, petting his mount on the head with an ear scritch added in.
As they ride back, Ami practices switching between his longspear and his favored halfling sling, even trying to load and shoot as he moves. Naturally, his aim is terrible as it is not easy to wield a sling from atop a creature like Yeenoghu.
As usual, the last 180' of moment back towards the caravan is a blur for Ami as Yeenoghu's excitement to return 'home' becomes overwhelming exuberance and the 'cat' sprints pack in at top speed, usually ending in a skidding halt that sometimes sends Ami flying or other times leads a majestic leap over Aldebert.
Sadly for Aldebert, Yeenoghu sees the noble brother and deigns for the flyby jump as a sign of his affection...
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20 Acrobatics...which barely clears the halfling. Yeenoghu spins after a skid stop after the jump. Ami jumps off to report to his brother...
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10 Ride for quick dismount...in which Ami's foot gets tangled up in Yeenoghu's saddle and Ami gets dragged for a few feet before he can free himself. Ami furtively looks around hoping that no one else saw that but his nonjudgmental brother.
"Didn't see any gnolls this day, brother. Next time, tomorrow, I'm sure we'll find some. And then we'll give them the whatfor," Ami smashes his tiny fist in his other tiny hand as an example of what the 'whatfor' means.
"I looked and I looked, but there wasn't any to be found," Ami explains further while calling over Yeenoghu to search through his saddlebags and pulling out a shallow bowl. It's clear he is disappointed in the lack of gnollsign.
"Did you want some water, brother? I'm about to make some for Yeenoghu." Ami casts Create Water into the bowl and lowers his scarf so that he can drink deeply. The rest he offers to Aldebert, then to Yeenoghu. He quickly re-covers his face after drinking.
"Anything happen while I was gone?" Ami asks, brushing off the dust and dirt from his hide armor.
Much like his brother, Ami dresses in the beige dies of a hot weather outfit, trying to keep hidden against the sands of the desert. Over and around his outfit, the 3' tall halfling wears hide armor. His ubiquitous halfling slingstaff and his capable 'cat' companion (medium sized) are usually nearby.
If his face and head wasn't mostly covered, you might see his brown hair. The parts of his face that you can see reveal brown eyes and a very tanned skin. His long sleeves tend to hide much of the skin on this arms. Like most halflings, he does not wear shoes.
Yeenoghu has a riding saddle and saddlebags that when combined with Ami's weight does slow him down a bit. Ami's longspear usually stays with Yeenoghu. Like Ami, Yeenoghu hates gnolls and wears a makeshift light green shawl over his head.
Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Fortunately for Ami's ego, Mahdi is too occupied with his conversation with Malki to notice the rather spectacular 'dismount'.
Instead Mahdi smiles indulgently at Malki's devotion to his deity.
"Lalaci, Lalaci...! I have heard much of your Lord this journey, my friend. And yet, the sun is still bearing down on our heads. Perhaps I should've made offering too, hmn?"
Mahdi uses his walking staff to knock a small rock from his path, despite the fact that the rock really wasn't in his way and he could have easily stepped around it.
"What say you, Hazim?" he says, calling to his more dour and wary brother, who has not joined the light-hearted conversation much. "If I had made prayers at the outset, do you think He of Motley Repose would have sent a raincloud to give us shade every day of the journey? Because that would be a thing I would find worthy of worship."
Malki laughs. "I know a prayer for such, though good for only the hottest hour of day. I hadn't considered it, as shade's something that waits at journey's end. What good is an oasis if you're cool all along the way?"
He saunters over to the returning Ami and Yeenoghu, offering the cat some water from his brass bowl. "You both look parched, brother. Hello, my little lion." With a look to Ami for permission, he tries to give Yeenoghu's ears a good scratch.
Handle Animal: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17
Hazim points to Malki as he walks away and says to Mahdi "That one has a good heart. Let's pray the gnolls don't remove it." And slaps his brother on the shoulder, laughing quietly.
Mahdi makes a little face at Hazim's bony, callused hand smacking him on the shoulder. Ugh he's not a KID anymore, Hazim.
"Let us pray, instead, that his wits are quick: that is better than a good heart, when it comes to gnolls."
"Ah, just over this rise! About damn time too, I'm not cut out for such long distance travels..." says Garavel from the front of the pack.
As you all top the last rise, a caravan of a half-dozen wagons clustered around the distinctive tree called Sultan's Claw 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. A dozen or so men and women rush around the campsite, chasing down an animal or rushing towards the center of the cluster with pails of water in their hands. Smoke billows from near the dead tree.
One of the wagons is on fire!
Lush orange and red flames engulf an elaborate wooden wagon emblazoned with painted moons and stars. The gout of smoke pours from an open door. As you all survey the scene, a gust of wind picks up and blows a number of colorful cards from inside the wagon.
A single card is violently carried by the wind and blows directly at Malki, catching him on the chest with a harmless burst of orange cinders.
"Almah! Almah!" yells Garavel as he runs towards the caravan.
The central flap of an elaborate tent flies open and a regal woman steps out into the firelit evening. "Douse that flame, now!" she yells at men surrounding the wagon. As her head turns in your direction she throws her arms up and shouts, "Ah, Garavel! And just a moment later than the nick of time, as usual."
Her eyes quickly glance at each of you, as if very briefly studying what Garavel has offered. "Find some way to help!" She turns and rushes towards the fire.
So, at this point, we are technically in initiative, but I'm not going to roll it. Instead, just tell me what you are going to be doing on your turn. We won't be using a map for this. You all are 30' away from the burning wagon. Oh, and include which round you are posting in at the start of your turn so I can keep track. Good luck! :)
Ami, seeing he is needed, runs over (move action) to Yeenoghu and leaps into the saddle...
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23 Ride to quick mount
...and deftly grabs the pommel and slides into the saddle.
I hope they caught that and not my previous dismount.
"Let's go Yeenoghu!" Ami will steer Yeenoghu 20' toward the fire. (10' away)
Hazim will quickly look around to see if there are any extra pails and what water source people around the campsite are using (perception roll of 16 +4 = 20.)
He shouts whatever he finds (if anything) to the rest of the group.
The rest of his action will depend on what he finds (moving to pail/water source if he spots any or closer to burning caravan if he doesn't.)
"There's water in that wagon."
Hazim points to an empty looking wagon about 20 feet from the fire, where others seem to be getting full pails of water.
Hazim rushes there (20 foot move) and grabs a pail of water.
"H'kap k'pah n'kah," Mahdi murmurs to himself in a tongue that it is unlikely any of his colleagues speak. (Ignan.) He is momentarily caught by the wild beauty of the rippling flames, and stands stock-still for a moment.
Hazim rushing past him urges him into action again. This is no academic study of the elemental power of flame, but a real danger to their expedition. He shakes himself and runs towards the wagon as well-- directly to the wagon, not stopping to grab buckets or water.
In the same tongue as before, he calls out to the roiling flames-- it sounds like no human speech to those listening, but rather the pop and crack of fire.
"Leave the wood! Come to me instead, here, come dance with me!"
He gestures from right next to the burning wagon, beckoning the fire to him.
Using Fire Supremacy to attempt to draw the fire from the wagon to himself. This is not at all how the ability works per RAW. It's up to you if it has any effect in game; I'm fine with it not doing anything useful if that's what you rule. :P
Round 1, Initiative 1, Location:30' away -> fire brigade
Weapon Equipped = None
Conditions = None
I assume that while traveling his armor is on as they'd be traveling during the cooler parts of the day (dusk/dawn). If it is instead during the hotter part of the day, his armor is off and packed.
Aldebert rushes to join the water brigade, double moving (40') to get near the head of the line. He shouts to his brother as he runs, "Amiamble start on the other side and we'll meet in the middle! As if the desert weren't hot enough someone had to burn a wagon!!"
When he arrives, he drops his guisarme in the sand at his feet, This won't help me in this fight!
Hazim spots several caravan members rushing from a nearby wagon with pails of water and points his companions in that direction, rushing in himself. He grabs an empty pail and fills it in the large barrel of water, rushing to the aid of the caravan. Malki calls forth his divine energies to create water, subduing a portion of the inferno, yet it still rages.
The Piddlespot brothers both rush forward, getting as far as they can, but unable to assist quite yet.
Mahdi, confident in his abilities to manipulate and control flames, tries to draw the fire to him instead. A portion of the flames licks out at Mahdi, circling around him in a beautiful burning spiral. Some of the nearby crew dive for cover and shriek as the flames jump from the wagon to the Keleshite.
The fire is weakening a bit, but it is still burning away at the wagon.
Now that you all are in the middle of the chaos that ensues, a bit more of the scene reveals itself to you.
Within feet of the inferno, a plain wooden wagon is in danger of igniting as well from errant sparks. Four men dressed in plain desert mercenary garb are trying to pull the unhitched wagon out of the way but are having little luck.
A halfling dressed in brown robes and gold cords is tending to the wounds of two more soldiers that look badly burned. One seems to be getting the focus of his attention, but the second seems to be in intense pain and having trouble breathing.
Among the herd of loose sheep, pigs and goats, a man and woman seem to be frantically running and screaming at the animals, trying to coral them back to their pen amidst the confusion and chaos.
Mahdi laughs to himself, white teeth flashing in his face as the fire curls around him, paying no heed to the fear the crew have of the sight of him wreathed in flames. (Actually he's probably secretly delighted by that.) "Yes, cousin! I'm far more interesting than a wagon; I live like you. Keep dancing with me!"
He notices the danger of the sparks hitting the wooden wagon and moves to position himself to where he can hopefully draw the sparks to him instead of to the other wagon. As he steps, he starts digging into his pack. Sa'amm will be hiding in its depths, as he does not share his master's fearlessness of fire, but it's not the scorpion he wants.
Swift action to keep being a fire magnet. Digging into his pack for blanket and waterskin; ultimately he wants to douse the blanket with the water and use that to try and beat out the flames. This is likely much more than a 1-rd action.
Ami's head spins to the fire controller, his eyes going wide within the folds of his scarf. Wow. Don't see that that often.
After a few moments of silent admiration (and a mixture of fear), Amiamble returns his attention to the rest of the fire.
"A bit closer, Yeenoghu," Ami nudges the cat a bit closer to the flames, trying to see where the best place for water might be. When he locates a good spot, he will cast Create Water and douse it.
* * *
He saunters over to the returning Ami and Yeenoghu, offering the cat some water from his brass bowl. "You both look parched, brother. Hello, my little lion." With a look to Ami for permission, he tries to give Yeenoghu's ears a good scratch.
Ami's eyes widen with violation and his head shakes a silent 'no'.
Yeenoghu's cat face bends away from the outstretched hand.
Ami's eyes go to Aldebert, a mixture of fear and askance for aid.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25
Seeing Amiamble shrink away, Malki withdraws his hand. He puts the bowl of water down on the ground and moves behind Aldebert's shoulder. "I pray we find your sister well, and that she has found what fortune lies before her. May we all be like the noble djinn, helping each others' wishes bear fruit." He nods, gives a smile to Aldebert if he'll match gazes, and withdraws.
Round 2, Initiative 1, Location: fire brigade
Weapon Equipped = None
Conditions = None
Surprised, Aldebert yells out the obvious, "Mahdi!! You're on fire!!"
Aldebert continues helping with the bucket brigade, but seeing what Mahdi is doing, he'll divert a quick bucket of water onto his blanket (assuming it's out by now) to wet it down for him. That's a good idea. Smart is Mahdi, very smart indeed!
Surprised, Aldebert yells out the obvious, "Mahdi!! You're on fire!!"
Mahdi laughs again, gesturing dramatically with his fire-wreathed hands.
"I am fire," he says, oh-so-humbly.
And it's good he can't read your thoughts, or his ego would swell all the further at your recognition of his Mighty Intellect.
"Stay here, Yeenoghu, we almost got this," Amiamble says, trying to keep focused on the fire when there is a man in swirling fire to stare at.
When he locates a good spot, he will cast Create Water and douse it.
Hazim drops his pail (free action) and removes his cloak (move?). He takes a look around (Percep roll 15+4=19) to see what the situation is with the animals. He then attempts to smother the flame with his cloak (reflex roll of 7 + 6 =13 - standard).
Round 3, Initiative 1, Location: fire brigade
Weapon Equipped = None
Conditions = None
Aldebert continues to watch Mahdi, entranced by the flames dancing on his body. Now that's a neat trick! He keeps the rest of his attention focused on the bucket brigade and he continues to hoist water onto the hot spots of the fire.
I’m going to assume Mahdi continues channeling the flames and attempting to smother them.
The fire finally seems to be contained. As the flames die down, the smells of burnt wood and flesh begin to grow stronger. The soldiers cover their mouths with their scarves to shield themselves from the stench coming from within the destroyed wagon.
Garavel turns sharply to Malki, who has diverted his attention towards helping calm the animals.
”What the hell are you doing!? Almah has given you orders, get back over here and help!”
With the last of the fire put out, Almah drops her bucket and looks toward Malki with focused eyes, then back to Garavel. ”Hush, Garavel. It’s fine, everything is taken care of. Besides, those damn goats and their bleating was getting on my last nerve.” she says with a laugh before dropping her pail and sitting down on a nearby log. She rests one hand over her face with her eyes closed, as if contemplating her next step.
”Thank you sir, thank you so much.” the man says while shaking your hand profusely before quickly walking away. You overhear him speaking to the woman, saying. ”I didn’t see Rombard. I hope he’s okay...”
Aldebert gathers his guisarme from the sand and straightens his gear. Breathing heavily from the recent effort he gestures to Amiamble for more water, and cleans his face and hands. He turns back to Almah and Garavel and awaits further orders. "Thank you brother. As always you have exactly what is needed."
It smells like death. I bet there's a body under that wagon's recent blaze.
Eager to investigate, he never the less waits to see if there is a better purpose to his effort.
Ami smiles at Aldebert, his eyes the only obvious sign of that from beneath his folds. He has created water from atop of Yeenoghu's back, happy to share the spoils of his gifts.
"When you need me, brother, I will be there for you. Nothing bad has happen as long as we stick together," Ami speaks with certain affection to Aldebert...and with force of conviction.
After tending to his brother, Ami will ride around the Sultan's Claw and see what else is needed to be done.
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10 Perception
Should I have time, I should map this area.
In an even voice, Hazim says "Not bad, Mahdi. You alright?" Since he is right next to the wagon, Hazim looks around the smoking mess to see if there is anyone or anything trapped inside while he speaks.
Perception roll of 9 + 4= 13.
Malki smiles patiently at Garavel but goes about his work. The shepherd tends all of his flock, not just those of downiest fleece.
Mahdi does, indeed, keep drawing the fire to himself as much as possible until it is all out. A small part of him is saddened when the fire is put out-- such a splendid, roiling, hungry blaze-- but he again reminds himself this is not an academic fire, but a real threat to property and lives. Some sacrifices must be made.
With the last of the flames smoking and guttering out, Mahdi flashes his concerned older brother another brilliant grin, and dusts off his robes although no soot clung to them.
"Not bad? Not bad? I was spectacular. Of course I'm fine. You worry too much."
He gives his brother a squeeze on the shoulder in passing and strides over to the woman that must be Almah. He gives her a bow.
"Mahdi al-Jabira, madam. Where else do you require my... our... talents?"
"I'm glad you asked," says Almah, acknowdging Mahdi. She looks up at Malki and yells, "You there, shepherd boy! Come over here, I need to discuss business with you all."
Garavel walks over and stands beside Almah, his robes and keffiyeh looking dishoveled from the chaos moments prior.
"Shame about the fortune-teller." Garavel says solemnly.
Without looking up, Almah responds. "Yes, losing Eloais is going to set us back a bit. But, we'll manage. We always do, old friend.". As she looks up and examines each of the individuals that Garavel has gathered to her, she finally smiles and says, "Come, let's speak privately in my tent. We have important details to discuss, and I'm sure you have lots of questions. Come." she gestures as she rises and begins walking towards one of the larger tents set up nearby.
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
"We are at your service." Aldebert says as he walks to the tent. He motions to Amiamble to dismount rather than bring his pet in the tent with us. Your pet can't go everywhere my brother.
Amiamble responds to Aldebert's signal quickly, jumping off Yeenoghu and speaking to him softly.
"I'll be back in a bit, you stay nearby. Don't hurt anybody and keep an eye out for gnolls."
Ami gives Yeenoghu a good scritchin' before checking his scarf and making sure his head is covered. He follows his brother, trusting that this meeting will turn out okay.
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13 Perception
Ami enters the tent and scrambles for spot where he can watch/listen, but isn't where others are likely to see him.
The back looks like a good place to be.
Malki looks somewhat crossly at the presumptuous caravan owner. Neither the desert winds nor I are bound to your word.
He speaks to the man,
"Please. I am a healer and well acquainted with the desert. If this Rombard is missing or injured, I should like to help him. Er, or her. It?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7
Shaking his head at the man's recalcitrance, he joins the confab with Almah. He soon lets the worry pass. From fire and the final fate of some comes good as well as ill. Listen and wait.
Perception 17 + 4 = 21.
Hazim gathers up his cloak, dusts off what ashes he can, and heads over to the tent with the others. He bows quickly after entering, and then stands a bit to the side to block anyone's view.
...then stands a bit to the side to block anyone's view.
Ami looks up at the back of the rude human who stood in front of him and squints his eyes.
What? Did he not see me standing here?
Considering his options, Amiamble huffs out from behind Hazim and moves to the other side of the tent, resisting the urge to the give him the 'eh, fongu!' hand gesture as he does.