Bjorkus snorts and ponders the suggestion. "Aliases, eh? A bull like me gets called a lot of things. I've never thought about a second name."
The minotaur scratches at his hairy bovine chin. "How about Ares? I like the sound of it. Sounds strong."
"That sounds like an interesting idea Rilka. Also dangerous. Though I was not well known in this area, who knows who we might meet who might recognize me. Perhaps they will think I have returned a slaver-partner and welcome me back, perhaps they will still hate me for abandoning my people." Lindale ponders the effects of his return to this land, something that had been on his mind ever since they had left. Or I could be another being altogether...
"There was a soldier I knew before I left. Nameless. Low rank. Possible dead. No one will know him here. I could take his face. Then you have your slaver-partner and the risk of me being recognized is removed."
The rest of the day goes smoothly, including the afternoon sleep. The night travel goes just as smooth, but once the sun comes up you quickly realize you are now in the heart of Yenrick. The heat is beyond oppressive, it's immobilizing.
Lindale is brooding on his discomfort when he sees some sort of hazy line in the distance. As he watches it continues to fluctuate slightly, but when he notices it growing he points it out to everybody else. It appears to be a line of brown that twists and turns and ever grows wider and taller. As you try to understand the phenomena, Rilka suddenly pales with realization. It's a sandstorm, and by the looks of it a massive one. You glance around and don't see any visible cover. In fact the land seems incredibly flat and open with no respite at all from whatever weather may come.
If there is no cover to be found, then we must make our own. Use the tent tarps to create a small pocket of air for you and your horse.
Toramin sets out to do just that for him and his horse.
Bjorkus climbs off of his steed and hurriedly unpacks his own makeshift shelter.
"You heard the dwarf. Let's move!"
Dalton rushes to aid with the tarp setup. "A slow, bending arc would be the safest shape with no hard cover. Here, like this..."
Everybody hurries to prepare for the storm, each taking out their tent and setting it up to protect themselves and their horses. You have plenty of time to finish preparations, then wait another ten minutes before the wall of oncoming sand hits.
The barrage of small particles lasts for hours. The ordeal is miserable, but survivable due to the setup. About three hours in there is a sudden strong gust of wind which threatens to rip out all of the tents. With a cry Dalton reaches out to pin down a side. Rilka quickly presses down her own side, then in a brilliant display of reflexes tosses a knife right past Bjorkus. The knife comes within an inch of his eye and continues past to momentarily slow down his tent long enough for Bjorkus to stand and pin it down the rest of the way.
Aware of the threat, the party is properly prepared for the next sudden gust and all pitch in to help pin down the tents, having no trouble keeping their cover. However the entire process has left Dalton miserable. Every time he yawned or blinked there seemed to be an unlucky gust of wind that brought a handful of sand around in his face. It's been frustrating at best.
The storm finally subsides, leaving a drift of roughly 8 inches of sand over everything. The horses are packed back up and the hair brushed out of the sand the crept around the edges of the tents. While they seem a little frustrated at the new, softer layer of sand they have to trot on, the storm itself appears to not have bothered any of them.
The next two days of travel are quiet, although you notice a few more animals off in the distance. Most you don't get close enough to recognize, although you can tell most of them are just as enlarged as the creatures you have already run into.
"An alias?" The wizard shrugs. "I'd be less forgetful by keeping my own name, I think. I'm not exactly famous, and I don't think they'll be tagging along with us back to town anytime soon." Indeed, I am simply an obscure - albeit eccentric - man.
******
"Akkpth!"Dalton spits out mouthfuls of sand. Parched, overheated, and simply worn-out, the man looks defeated. "I'd empty my pockets for a simple night in a bed right now..." I'll have to look into manipulating some sort of protective zone for that type of thing in the future...
Bjorkus carefully unwraps the sand-laden turban from around his horned head and shakes more earth from his mane. "Let's hope we don't have another one of those."
"You still with us little Rilka?"
"I think Master Dalton could use the protect of the wand until he is feeling better."
Rilka flips up a tent flap with a smile. ” Of course I am. How’s everybody else? That was quite an experience! The sound of the wind sounded like a ghost moaning. Felt like every time I started to nod off, I’d get woken up again. I wouldn’t be surprised by a lost soul or two wandering around out here.“ The halfling goes about camp preparing breakfast, shaking sand from items, brushing horses, and packing gear. When she’s done with that, she takes out a vial filled with boiled water, adds in some linen wrapped ingredients stored in a pouch, shakes while chanting arcane words and drinks. ”My morning magic.”
”Will you look at that? The dunes are different! See that big one?” she asks pointing at one particular dune and then swinging her arm sixty degrees. ”It was over there before the storm. Slightly different slope too.” She get her bearings from the sun, checks the map, and sets a point for the first hour’s travel.
”Dalton, I don’t have a bed, but I’m willing to give you a back rub as we ride Fine Winter Day. Work out some of the tension in your shoulders. And take Toramin’s advice, use the wand.”
Toramin is dozing in his armor.
With his arms crossed over his powerful chest, Bjorkus rumbles heartily in his sleep.
Rilka sleeps tucked in her bedroll in a fetal position. Weapons and armor are within quick reach should anything disturb her.
Lindale takes his watch silently. The sand was everywhere, literally. It was starting to bother him.
"My thanks, Miss Rilka, but you are no servant - I would not subject you to such a task." The old man cricks his back. "And your observations are correct; I wonder if anything was unearthed during the storm?"
Lindale and Dalton take up their watch as the others rest. Dalton spends most of the time getting the cricks out of his back and the sand out of his clothes while Lindale sits silent and still.
About an hour in Lindale's sharp eyes catch a flick of movement on the high ground. He stands and narrows his eyes to try and see what it was, then sees a huge blue reptilian head peak over the edge. When it sees it has been spotted it rears up on it's hind legs, revealing itself to be the largest creature you have seen yet and covered in glittering blue scales. It gives an ear-piercing primal roar that reminds you of the dragons long since past. This slithering, multilegged blue reptile has a fearsome head crowned with two large, curling horns.
Rilka
Dalton
Enemy
Bjorkus
Lindale
Toramin
Dalton was just starting to enjoy the relatively cool and calm desert night when the otherworldly roar shocked him out of a potential reverie. What the devil is that?
"Awake! Awake!"
Instinctively as he had with a few unsavory customers in the past, the wizard defended himself.
These creatures have a nasty breath weapon in the form of a bolt of electricity. Much like a snake, they are also capable of oppening their gullets to swallow creatures whole. Though somewhat draconic in appearance, behirs are unrelated to those creatures, and typically speak just the common tongue.
Close combat with behirs is inadvisable. As well as a nasty bite, these creatures are natural grapplers, can constrict opponents in the coils of their bodies and can inflict multiple rake attacks on grappled foes with their six pairs of legs.
Rilka sees the enormous creature and tumbles from her bedroll, swiping her short sword from its sheathe. As it charges their camp, she studies its movements and anatomy, looking for any weaknesses her small size might help her exploit.
Dalton and Rilka use their superior intellect to prepare for combat.
The behir has a much simpler strategy.
The giant blue lizard jumps off the side of the cliff, six claws raking against the stone to slow it's descent. The stones crack and groan as it lands, then it turns it's head, teeth crackling with electricity. The massive jaws and with another piercing scream releases a bolt of electricity through Lindale and Toramin!
Bjorkus
Lindale
Toramin
Rilka
Dalton
Enemy
Seeing she slightly misjudged where the creature would land, she knows her only course of action is to charge before their attacks makes the creature too unpredictable for her studied effort to be wasted.
Seeing the party rally to its defense, Dalton prepared further if need be. "Majestic behir! We mean you no harm but will readily defend ourselves! Our aim is simply to pass through this land."
Doubt it will listen, but it's worth a shot...
Toramin is in no way prepared for the lightening blast. He glances briefly around to see if there are any more giant blue lizards coming for his life before he charges this one.
Once he charges into position, he sets himself into his stance.
Current HP: 32
Woken by the cries of alarm and the roar from the behir, Bjorkus jumps to his hooves. "What's goin' on? What the hell is that?!"
The sleeping members all stand and get their weapons in hand. Dalton layers himself with defensive magic, while Lindale draws his weapon and casts shield of faith on himself.
To most people's surprise, the behir's jaw opens again...to respond to Dalton in common. It's deep voice is punctuated by crackles of electricity. "I care not whether my prey wishes me harm. You carcasses shall feed me for many days, and those horses for even longer." He looks at the half-minotaur and licks his chops. "I've always loved the taste of cow!" It roars and charges heedlessly through the party to get to Bjorkus, biting deep into his flesh and lifting him off the ground.
Bjorkus
Lindale
Toramin
Rilka
Dalton
Enemy
At 2nd level, the brutal pugilist takes only half the normal penalties to Dexterity, attack rolls, and combat maneuver checks when she has the grappled condition. She can make an attack of opportunity against creatures trying to grapple her even if they possess the Improved Grapple feat or the grab special attack. If she hits with this attack of opportunity, she gains a +2 circumstance bonus to her CMD against the grapple attempt. She cannot make these attacks of opportunity once a grapple has succeeded.
Bjorkus brings his big sword to bear as the beast's maw lunges for him.
Bjorkus howls in pain as the reptilian jaws lock around his thickly muscled torso. With a roar he flexes and tries to muscle the beast's maw open long enough to get free.
Despite the ragged tears in his hairy hide and the blood running down his legs to pool on the sandy floor, Bjorkus barks a command at his adjacent steed.
Ignoring the size of the monstrosity attacking the party, the minotaur's hearty steed bites it viciously before rearing up and clobbering it with its hooves.
Toramin assumes his defensive stance as a free action and takes his AoO
Drawing strength from the earth, Toramin smashes his hammer into the lizard again.
Swift Action=Stone Strike
We'll meet our doom here.
After seeing Bjorkus so cleanly removed from the ground, Dalton doesn't hesitate to go on the offensive. Pointing a shaking hand at the behir, the mage tried to steady his mind.
As the arcane forces left his fingers, darting into the creature's head, Dalton saw the events from the outside. It felt as the incident with the excavation when he was a child ... except this time, his mind held the events in perfect clarity. So perfect, in fact, he felt no fatigue from the spellcast.
Instead, he was invigorated.
The spell kept in his mind with perfect clarity. No odd manifestations abounded. And he was ready for more.
"You needn't wish for harm, beast - it will be real enough!"
Lindale is unable to move out of the way of the beasts lightning attack and sparks course through his body wracking him with pain as he cries out. He cries out in rage as he strike the creature when it foolishly rushes past them.
He strikes again but it glances off the creatures tough skin. A moment later Lindale seems to be in two places at once.
Rilka stabs at the behir as it charges the group and clamps Bjorkus in its jaws. She sheathes her sword while sifting her memory for what she knows of these magical beasts, hoping to remember some weakness they might exploit. She spins low to swipe her halfling sling staff from the ground and uses the momentum to attack the behir.
Bjorkus manages to just barely wrench the jaws open and land in the sand, inciting his horse to attack who surprisingly lands a pair of attacks on the Behir. Lindale smashes the creature at it runs up to them, but his second attack deflects off. Toramin leaves two great bruises in the creature's side, hammering away at the soft underbelly. Rilka manages to leave a shallow cut in the elbow of one of the Behir's many arms, but her stone plinks off the scales. Dalton uses primal magic to slam the beast with a missile of force.
The monster certainly looks damaged, but it's not nearly done fighting. It looks angry at it's prey escaping, roaring it's defiance at all the small blows. Then in a terrifying whirlwind of movement it turns and shreds at every adjacent person, splattering the stone floor with blood. Lindale is the only one who moves fast enough to just barely escape the spinning claws.
Bjorkus
Lindale
Toramin
Rilka
Dalton
Enemy
Bjorkus reels as the monster's claws tear additional deep bloody furrows in his hide. The minotaur staggers, only his fury and will to fight keeping him on his hooves. He grips his blood-slick sword with both meaty hands and takes another big swing.
Bjorkus's horse continues its desperate rampage.
Seeing his allies in such dire straights, Toramin throws caution to the wind and hammers the serpent for all he is worth, drawing deeply from the earth's power.
Not nearly agile enough to dodge the strike, Dalton falls to the ground,knocked out by the forceful impact.
After laying open the half-minotaur and the dwarf, the two are barely left standing, but still fighting. They look at each other and give a knowing nod. With one final effort Bjorkus pushes forward, shoving his sword several feet deep into the chest of the Behir, then collapses. Toramin steps over his bleeding body and with narrowed eyes brings his hammer forward, striking the back of Bjorkus's blade and burying it up to the hilt in the blue scales, as they have done before. The creature does not scream or roar, but looks down in disbelief at the metal so deep. It staggers, laying down on the ground and eyes flicking between you all. "I...seemed to have underestimated you. Pity, nobody will be able t-to..." He coughs, spraying the horses in blood and making them snort in panic. With a final shudder he lays still.
With a titanic roar, Bjorkus drives his enchanted blade deep into the monster's torso. Knowing the battle's won, the bull lets his fury slip away and having suffered injuries that would have killed a lesser man many times over, the minotaur collapses.
Toramin stumbles over to his bovine friend, and releases a surge of healing energy which he drew up from the earth.
He then brings that energy into himself.
Current HP: 7
"Bjorkus, Rilka, Lindale -- do you have enough healing power to get us back up to top form before morning? Or will we need the wands?"
He looks down on the dread serpent's corpse, "It looks so much like a dragon. Do you think it has a horde like one? Do you guys think we can track down its lair?
"I can patch myself up some", Bjorkus says after waking with a groan.
"Anything on the beast worth takin' as a trophy?"
The wizard lets out a large sigh of relief. "Quickly, let us tend to them but move away from this place; where one resides, more may live."
Dalton does his best to aid the others as directed, but not knowing much about the practical aspects of healing, he felt out-of-sorts.