Rumors that this night may prove to be the final run to the watering hole saw more caves than have recently been seen light up with fire. The celestial lunar satellite was reflecting the rays of the nearest star quite brightly. The full white circle was both a blessing and a curse. The runners could see pretty well without torches, but so could any predators. There were twelve caves lit and glowing. It remained to be seen if all would send runners to gather water, or some would take advantage of the distraction to flee the yard entirely. Six runners emerged at the mouth of their caves, ready to complete the nightly ritual.
The big red boulder stood about twelve feet high in the middle of the yard as it did daily supporting the rebellious tree that grew up from the hole another thirty feet, with a trunk too thin to support the weight of a regular-sized being. What would tonight’s run yield?
Tortok adjusted his armor and glanced furtively at the yard's other denizens. No point staying, he thought. The sickness will take hold soon... and besides, I have no bonds with any of them. The earth will provide. Or it won't.
Walking slowly towards the yard's opening, Tortok stared stoically at the other runners. Strength in numbers. I wonder, would they join me?
"Ayup Tortok. Nice night for...not dying?"
It was Hollowe, his brilliant plumage a distinct disadvantage to those who might try to hide with him in the sands. The avian held his bonespear in one crooked talongrip, one precious torch in the other, as yet unlit.
Tall and lean, not the strongest, but there was something unsettling in his eyes, Karsha stepped out and squinted suspiciously at the sky. A hunters moon... he sighed internally, taking the time it took to walk over to the other to make sure he was stretched properly.
"You won't need that." He spoke to the Tengu, waving his hand to show he would use his strange floating lights if it were needed.
Jogging up to meet up with those around her, Kentalla stops and nods to those around her. “It is a nice night. The heat was brutal today while scouting. Being out there during the day is a slow process, but its better than going out alone at night when there are predators about.”
Kentalla checks over her equipment. With a sigh she things to herself; Only ten arrows.... I am going to keep my eyes open for materials to make more.
Kentalla is a short girl on the verge of womanhood. She stands just over 5 feet with tanned olive skin. Her long brown hair is pulled back tight into a long braid that is slung over her shoulder.
Tortok grimaced. "Predators about. Plague within. This may be our final night in the yard... one way or another."
Silently watching the others gather, Cythraul took one last look around the empty cave her clan once called home. Hearing the faint whisper of a long dead spirit, she smiles, fangs gleaming in the moonlight.
I've not forgotten you Gwen. I always keep my promises, at least the ones I made you.
Drawing the spirit of her long-dead sister into herself, Cythraul turns her back to the only home she has ever known and strides out into the yard to greet life, or embrace death.
Jorrick arrived, seemingly the last one to do so. The young man was not a particularly impressive looking individual, with his drab clothing, lithe build, messy brown hair, and tired eyes. He had been tempted to not bother at all. At some point, one had to question the futility of the whole exercise. They’d run out there, dodging predators all the way, get the water… and then what? Return to their plague ravaged homes to die?
But, in the end, he had to go. He supposed that even after all this, it was not in human nature to slowly wither away like a thirsty rat in a cave. And besides, he still had a duty to perform, to those ever whispering voices in the back of his skull, a duty which required him to stay alive. At least, it was not daytime. He expected that the monsters of the dark were far more merciful in their killing than the scorching heat of day.
”Well, I expect this is all of us,” Jorrick said, as he approached the others, ”Shall we proceed? he inquired, wanting to get this over with.
Nodding Kentalla replies; “The sooner we go the better. Once we get out there I can scout a head and keep an eye out for predators and other hazards.”
"Are you sure that's wise? If something unpleasant stumbles upon you while you're up ahead, we might not be able to catch up in time to help," Jorrick worried. Perhaps it was not great, to expect the worst, but, it seemed the worst was happening quite often recently. Then again, he thought, perhaps it was silly to just underestimate these people. After all, they had clearly survived this long.
"We just go...without a send off? Ok...well... [here pauses for a moment, trying in vain to mark the occasion with a heartfelt comment or even pithy quip] ...good luck to us."
Hollowe stows his torch at Karsha's advice and heads off when the rest leave.
Karsha shrugs, looking around at the yard for a moment before following the others. Hanging on by your finger nails day to day wasn't any way to live, but until a new way was found what else could you do?
Tortok nodded. “Let us be off, then.”
‘DuneRunners’ is what the village elders called those ancient predecessors who founded the yard settlement, or so Solana believed in her stories and the moniker was also bestowed upon those of any age willing to run out to the watering hole to grab the daily portion of water. There were no dunes in the yard, but it was a term of honor bestowed upon those that risked their lives for their families.
A system of communication was set up between caves. A sort of basic code system created by covering the burning torches rapidly before uncovering them to create a short sequence of flashes. This allowed everyone to run to the hole at the same time and confuse any predator.
Sometimes, a different kind of signal was shown. Three quick flashes followed by a long flash indicated that a runner was sick and decide to sacrifice themselves to whatever predatory creature was lurking about so the others could easily fill their water skins.
An odd delay occurred as a tall, thin and pale elf ran to the waterhole nearly an entire minute after you six made it out.
” My name is Weissbard, please don’t forget me. I am sick and I won’t be getting water. My cave is there, please leave my portion of water at the mouth. I will run the circle around the boulder. Hurry.” the elf pointed to a cave across the yard from where you came, dropped his water skins and began running unarmed in the customary circle around the yard trying to attract the attention from whichever lurking predator was about.
A high-pitched shriek let out of the darkness and a giant scorpion met the elf in between where you are located and your caves. The opening to the yard is free and clear for your escape out into the calm desert night. You could also band together and try to rid the menace of the yard with your makeshift weapons. It is time to decide your course of action.
“We have a chance to get the upper hand on that beast! We should strike now from afar, and as it approaches all of you with swords should be at the ready to attack it. One less beast could mean an easier run the next time.”
Kentalla readies her bow and is eyeing the creature trying to figure out any obvious weaknesses.
Tortok shakes his head gruffly. “The yard is a lost cause... We only delay the inevitable.” Nonetheless, he begrudgingly prepares to gather earthen matter into his hands, waiting for the others to ready themselves against the beast.
Signing deeply at the willingness of the others to fight, Cythraul shakes her head silently. I had hoped to avoid this sister, that thing is death, but it seems the elf will not be permitted his sacrifice.
With but a moments pause to concentrate, Cythraul's hands ignite in an eerie pale blue fire.
Hollowe is torn, but seeing Cythraul rush to the waterhole, and Weissbard's sacrifice seemingly working, he throws his lot with the tiefling. After all, there is safety in numbers, and death strikes those alone more easily.
"We may not see next time. Come on Kentalla!" he calls to the human female. The avian runs after Cythraul, keeping a keen eye out for hazards or predators.
Karsha summons his magic to armor himself and prepares to fight the creature with the others.
Jorrick couldn't help but think that engaging the scorpion was a rather silly thing to do, at least, for the reasons which had been provided. But, it seemed a bit late to be worrying about that, as the rest of the group seemed to have decided to fight. And so, Jorrick loaded his sling. He then cast Produce Flame, filling his free hand up with fire.
Seeing everyone start to spring into action Kentalla readies her bow and looses and arrow.
Tortok gathers power and flings a piercing shard of earth at the scorpion.
Weissbard manages to draw the creature about one hundred feet from your position before it catches him with the tip of its pincher, nearly splitting the sickly elf into two parts at the stomach. He falls to the ground and awaits the next and possibly final attack upon him.
The six runners are situated by the boulder for cover in a somewhat close circle about 100 feet away from the giant scorpion. The route back to their caves is blocked by the attack, leaving the yard’s opening to the desert, open.
Jorrick
Hollowe
Karsha
Cythraul
Kentalla
Tortok
Scorpion
Jorrick and Kentalla have seen this creature before and know that the giant scorpion has deadly pinchers and a stinging tail. Jorrick has seen it catch runners in its pincher and then sting to kill its prey, emitting some sort of poison.
Jorrick , Kentalla, and Tortok ready their attacks.
The scorpion goes in for the kill on Weissbard.
The scorpion finishes the bleeding elf with a quick stab sounding a gushy crunch to his abdomen. Weissbard lets out his final scream before expiring. The scorpion does not yet notice the runners at the rock.
Cythraul moves to stand about 5' in front of the others, assuming a defensive stance.
"Right, so, he's dead now, and I'm not sure I really like our odds on fighting this thing, especially when we don't need to. Might I suggest that we withdraw and continue on our way? With luck, that thing'll choose to eat its meal instead of spending time chasing after us, and, well, if it picks up the disease from that poor bastard, all the better..." Jorrick suggested quietly to the others.
Tortok nods. "I agree. In fact... I would just as soon we be rid of the yard entirely and find ourselves a new home, if the rest of you are with me. This place is dying, and we may not get an opportunity like this again."
Unable to hear his fellow runners conversation Hollowe does notice they aren't with him. He turns, and calls to them, seeing the evisceration of the elf beyond them.
"Leave him! He's done!"
Without the water we share the elf's fate, and there is little chance we can fill our skins before it reaches us.
Hollowe cannot spot any other creatures about in the yard on this bright, lunar-lit evening.
“Water it is!”
The width of the boulder provided ample cover as long as the runners stayed out of the line of sight. They could slowly make their way around it and then they would have to choose to go straight into the dunes, along the red orange cliffs to the right or the same on the left. Weissbard’s sacrifice had bore witness to the speed of the creature, so they knew that they had to act quickly.
Tortok briefly checks the landscape for tracks to see if any of the routes are less likely to see traffic from dangerous creatures.
The sand has shifted at the mouth of the cove and old tracks are barely discernible. One of the drawbacks of the sacrificial runners are the many tracks left in the sand in overlapping circles around the boulder. Tortok cannot make out any one particular direction that is safe.
Tortok silently motions to the route alongside the cliffs on the left, giving the others a shrugging look.
Hollowe nods back.
I guess one cliff-wall is as dangerous as the other... the avian thinks to himself philosophically.
The creature continues to eat its prey, unaware of the presence of other runners. The runners were able to fill their skins for the last time at that hole as wet sand was all that seemed to be left of the watering hole.
What ever we are doing, we need to do it now, that thing is not going to wait. Either shoot the thing or fill the waterskins.
Tortok fills his skin and looks at the others severely. “And now? You all know how I feel. We should take this water outside and find a new home. There is only death here.”
Hollowe breathes heavily through his beakholes while filling his 'skin.
"There is no more water to be had for the yardies, that is for sure - and a devil in the sand between us and them. We have what we need. [Hollowe looks out toward the edge of the yard.] I agree with you Tortok. Skaaa!"
Jorrick refilled his water skin.
"And where will we go?" he asked quietly. The Yard, dead as it was, was still the only home he had ever known, and he knew precious little of the world beyond it. The idea of venturing blind into the unknown worried him almost as much as the idea of facing the scorpion.
Kentalla also fills her waterskin. Once it is full she turns to the group. “I am ok with leaving. I am looking for someone who left many years ago. I still have hope that she is alive.”
Looking for the best geographical landmarks within sight that could be the next safe spot along our journey.
Ugh... I just noticed I forgot to switch profiles and now its locked in.... This is me. Sorry guys.
