It's blazing hot outside. Well, it is the desert so that kinda makes sense.
You have all been traveling together for more than a week on a dreary camel caravan from the town of Solku to an unknown location in the northern scrublands of Katapesh. You've been hired by Garavel, the no-nonsense major-domo of a merchant princess awaiting them at your destination. In the distant haze to the west, you can just make out the immense outline of Pale Mountain looming over the mid-evening horizon like a tombstone.
Eerie indeed.
The first few days of the journey are exillorating for Seyhannah. She has not been away from the city since she was a girl. The desert sun seems to have a basking effect on her brown skin, almost bathing in it. The caravan was turning out to be a fantastic idea. She enjoys getting to know her traveling companions. Telling old desert stories from her youth to make friends and entertain.
The stories are old and she realizes quickly that she will need update her repitoir of tales as soon as possible.
When Seyhannah learns of another follower of Serenrae joining the caravan she does her best to meet them. Upon finding Reuleaux stung, she will speak with him. In a slight nomadic accent she asks Reuleaux "Greetings sir, is there anything I can do to make you feel better? My name is Seyhannah. I was not told another missionary would be joining us, but am glad to have another with us to share in the blessings of the Dawnflower. I am sorry that you have taken ill with scorpion venom. The desert can be a formidable enemy for those not used to its ways."
It had been hard to avoid Zoisa for the first few days of the caravan's trip. She'd been a bluish-purple blur scampering around both the camels and the tents, eager to meet everybody. Even if she'd heard Seyhannah's stories before, she listened with rapt attention. And then let her know.
"Decent rendition of the Tale of Bac-Bac, though I think it kinda fell flat around the middle. It's one of my favorites, but it's supposed to be this madcap farce where this dead jester gets packed and thrown around the city by a bunch of panicking fools, not a tepid crime report. Maybe next time go a bit more exaggerated. That almost always makes things funnier!"
She sees Reuleaux's big display of being afflicted by scorpion venom, she peeks in on his tent, curious as to why he was making such a big deal out of it. Scorpions were a fact of life here in Katapesh, and most of the time they were more scared of you than you were of them.
Not really having as much an understanding of medicine as she'd like to believe she does, she sees nothing out of the ordinary, so she retires to her own tent to smoke some pesh and turn it over in her mind a few more times.
For Alem, the journey has been tedious. In all of the traveling he and Master Hassan had done together, most of it had been conducted by way of teleportation or a flying carpet or some other convenient magical conveyance. The young wizard would have much preferred being teleported directly to their final destination, but Hassan had insisted on depositing his apprentice in Solku to join Garavel's caravan.
The sun was hot and the camels were smelly, but the trip gave Alem a chance to begin making new friends. Garavel seemed a gruff man, not wont to engage in idle conversation, but others were more amenable. The storyteller, Seyhannah, was pleasurable companionship. Alem found her stories lacking in both imagination and detail, but Kaspar, his monkey familiar, seemed to take a liking to them, and so keeping near her granted the caravan valuable reprieve from the monkey's antics.
Zoisa was an energetic creature. Between her and Kaspar, they were likely to tire Alem out if he was not careful. Alem had little opportunity to meet Reuleaux who had assigned himself to bedrest, but he was happy to lend an extra blanket to the cause.
In the evenings, Alem busied himself aiding the caravan to the best of his abilities. His minor magical tricks allowed him to mend and damage to packs, tents, and the like, and he was able to shed the sand and sweat from his orange robes at the end of each day. Kaspar preferred to groom himself, picking out sand and the occassional tasty insect. After the evening meal, Alem would retire to his tent to study a small collection of scrolls and texts that Hassan had sent him with. While he may have been granted freedom, his apprenticeship was still far from over. Interruptions were always welcome, and guests were offered a small porcelein cup of strongly brewed coffee.
Tonight, after the meal, Alem joins the others around the campfire, facing toward their destination in the north. Kaspar sits perched upon Alem's shoulder. Gazing through the smoke, the silhouette of Pale Mountain shifts and waves in the distance. "In all my travels, I have not seen that mountain before. Where is it that we are going? Garavel is a tight-lipped man, and even my master would not say. What could be so valuable out here so deep in the wastes?"
"Place is called Kelmerane, Al," Zoisa says, taking time to tickle Kaspar, grinning ear to ear at his sheer cuteness.
"Word is gnolls took it over and the Pactmasters want it back, partly for another caravan route north into Osirion but especially its famous Battle Market. Makes sense, given that it's a BATTLE market that we'd have to fight for the right to buy and sell there. Don't tell me your old man sent you on this job without telling you what was going on!"
Though Zoisa had met Alem when they were both children, long before they went down the separate paths of sorcery and wizardry respectively, she hadn't really gotten to know him or Hassan well, regarding Hassan as a small-minded old goat who thought her talent at magic wasn't strong enough to cultivate, and despite being corrected once or twice, was still under the misapprehension that Hassan was Alem's father.
"It's always fantabolistic to meet a fellow gnome. You may call me Zoisa THE MAGNIFICENT, and if you haven't heard of me yet, soon you'll hear of me from the Brazen Peaks to the Mana Wastes! You have another one of those clove cigs? I'm a pesh gal, for the most part, but I'm always up to try new things!"
"Donigan you say? I have not heard of him. That is not suprising however, I have not been particularly active with the day to days of our church. I've found the faith to be more rewarding on a personal level. Not a social one. Please, get some rest now. Don't let me keep you awake any longer. "
"Zoisa the Magnificent eh? I sense the beginning of a great tale. Perhaps my evening stories in the future will be of your exploits." Seyhannah smiles genuinely at Zoisa. Looking to Alem she remarks "Perhaps Kaspar will not be the only one to truly enjoy my stories then. You must tell me Alem, is Kaspar special in any way? Iit is very rare that I've come across an animal that is comfortable with my presence. Let alone one that seems to actually enjoy it." Not wanting to be unsociable to her new acquaintance in faith, she the says to Reuleaux "Master Reuleaux! Good to see you up and feeling better. Did I overhear you all talking about our destination?"
Alem nods along as he listens to Zoisa's explanation of the mission. "Yes, it seems strange for them to keep me ignorant. Perhaps my master thought it good for me. After all, he could simply have sent me straight to Kelmerane instead of Solku. Unless perhaps teleportation magic does not work in this part of the desert?" Alem fishes around for a scroll, consulting it. He mumbles something about ley lines, glancing up occasionally to check the position of the stars and their camp's proximity to the mountain.
Alem looks up at Seyhannah's comment. "Oh, there are many things that are special about Kaspar! He is called a capuchin. The breed is not native to Garund, found in a far off jungle to the east. He is also my wily familiar. He is supposed to be more intelligent than others of his kind, but I have only found him to be more troublesome." Alem chuckles as Kaspar trills angrily at him before going back to enjoying Zoisa's attention. "Be careful Zoisa, you're going to spoil the rascal. And be sure to check your pockets."
Zoisa ponders Reuleaux's description of the process of the cloves being distilled and wonders if it matches any alchemical processes she knew.
Her eyes widen as she listens.
"I absolutely HAVE to try that sometime! Who knows what effect it could have on pesh flowers!!"
Fawziya trudges along with the horse-drawn wagons as they wind their ways toward Kelmarane. If the heat of the sun or the length of the trip is a bother to her, she has never voiced any complaint. If her tanned skin is any indication, she's acclimated to a life within the dune sea, and the scars on her hands and arms suggest that she's no stranger to the dangers the desert holds.
Her eyes light up at camp one evening when Seyhannah begins telling tales. "If you thought that was a tale, then let me tell you of the battle I was in not seven weeks and a day ago! I was hired to protect a merchant caravan, not unlike this one, on a trip to wondrous Katapesh. A wise decision, for not a week from our point of origin, we were waylaid by bandits, their numbers exceeding three score! I realized there was no time to lose - I ordered the caravan to circle the wagons to protect against their mounted archers, while I rallied the other sell-swords to defend against their cavalry. I personally slew seven, including their leader, a swarthy man of the dunes who wielded a wickedly-notched blade. He rode towards me, intent on claiming my head, but I dodged out of the way, cutting his saddle from his mount and sending him tumbling to the sand! He stood, challenged me to battle, and our swords locked at once! For every cut he gave me, I returned the favor thrice over, until the sand below us was stained as red as the sun at dusk. At last, he tired, and I found my opening - a beat of his blade with mine opened the window, and then! SLASH! His head rolled across the earth! I grabbed it by the hair, and held it aloft, crying to the bandits, 'I am Fawziya bint Abdul-Wali! Your leader has been sent to Pharasma for judgment! If you wish to join him in death, then face me in battle! If you value your lives, then flee and trouble us no more!' At once, they saw the battle lost, and fled into the desert! It was a glorious battle, friends - I only wish you could have seen it!"
"An excellent story! It is not often that I've met an accomplished swordswoman. Perhaps the two of us could train together sometime? My training has been extensive but I am still somewhat untested. I would sometimes go out into the Nightstalls looking for trouble, but I have a feeling that the sands will bring much more challenging opponents. I am Seyhannah Kassim, it is a pleasure to meet you."
Seyhannah watches with amusement as the cigarette bundle floats over to Zoisa. As the gnome takes the clove cigarette Seyhannah snaps her fingers and the end becomes lit. At Zoisa's second mention of Pesh however Seyhannah becomes visibly irritated and asks "Pesh is terrible. Why would you subject yourself to such poison? I've seen it do nothing but destroy lives."
Zoisa's eyes widen at Seyhannah's spark of magic, but she rolls them a bit at her comments as she takes a drag.
"That's cuz they don't use it right! For me, it boosts and helps me focus my magic. Besides, gnomes don't suffer ill-effects from it the way you humans do. It was a pesh dream that helped me figure out where this caravan was heading and why I needed to be with it!"
Alem tuts patronizingly at Zoisa. It is a shame that such a naturally magical creature must resort to a hallucinogenic crutch to exercise her abilities. What's worse is that she had to pretend to find pleasure is the hazy pesh-stupor. Alem does not begrudge her this little charade; Zoisa should be allowed to salvage her pride however she can. Kaspar cries pathetically as Zoisa ignores him in favor of her cigarette. Jealously, he swipes it from between her lips and scampers away.
Putting his scrolls away, he turns his attention to Fawziya. She was a comely woman, but rough and abrasive. She brought to mind the cactus flower, delicate beauty guarded by a trunk of spines. "Tell me, Fawziya, do you intend to stay on at Kelmerane or will your journies carry you onward? Your skills may be even more valuable in this 'battle market'."
"Why you little rascal! Come back here!" Zoisa cries as she bounds after Kaspar, her expression seeming more amused than annoyed.
Seyhannah smirks as Zoisa runs off after Kaspar. She turns to Alem and Fawziya "If you do decide to move on, you will have quite the choice to make. Since it seems we are heading toward the Brazen Mountains, will you continue north to Osirion or come back south to find adventure here in Katepesh once more? Katepesh is my home but I would find great interest in visiting Osirion at least once in my lifetime.
When he's put some distance between himself and the campfire, Kaspar examines the cigarette. Sniffing at the burning tip, he twitches his nose before placing it between his lips as Zoisa had done. He screeches as it burns his mouth. Tossing it on the ground, the little monkey races back and clambers up onto Alem's shoulder, hiding from Zoisa. "No, no, you rascal, do not come to me for help!"
Make sure you're reading everything you can. A lot of good characterization here, I'm impressed!
You begin to near your destination. Craggy trees litter the next hill and you can see why everyone refers to it as the Sultan's Claw. With five immense, mostly leafless branches, the growth looks more like giant skeletal talon than a thing of living wood.
As you top the last rise, you finally are able to a caravan of a half-dozen wagons and a large tent clustered around the distinctive tree. Camels in a nearby pen prance in agitation, and a clutch of confused goats and livestock wander the grounds around the wagons. Of course, there's people as well, perhaps a dozen as you look down and....wait....somethings wrong.
You see the men and women rush around the campsite, chasing down an animal or hastening towards the center of the cluster, near the Sultan's Claw, with pails of water in their hands.
One of the wagons is on fire!
Lush orange and red flames engulf an elaborate wooden wagon emblazoned with a painted moon and stars. A gout of smoke pours from an open door, and as you approach an ill wind blows a number of colorful fortune-telling Harrow cards from inside the wagon. One of the cards flies in the air and eventually hits Zoisa in the chest. It is the Cyclone, a symbol that signify's a force that tears though whatever it meets at the behest of an intelligent being. It portends war, arson, and destructive plans.
The whole of Sultan's Claw erupts into brilliant flame.
The central flap of an elaborate tent flies open and a regal woman who can only be Almah (the merchant princess in charge) steps out into the firelit night.
"Douse the flame!" she shouts to the men surrounding the wagon before turning in your direction.
"Ah, Garavel!" she says. "And just a moment later than the nick of time, as usual."
Looking specifically past her major domo and directly at you all, Almah barks out a simple order before running off toward the fire:
"Find some way to help!"
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Each of you has an individual decision on how you want to help with the current crisis. I'll be giving you more details once you decide how you want to help.
Put out the fire.
Pull wagon out of the way
Heal wounded Firefighters
Deal with Frightened Animals
Seyhannah watches for a moment, almost entranced by the flicker of the fire. It doesn't take long however for her to shake away the call of the flame and she rushes to help Reuleaux pull the wagon away from the rest of the caravan.
At Almah's command, Alem strides toward the blazing tree, his orange robes billowing in the heat. Kaspar, riding on Alem's shoulder, hisses and bounds away, taking shelter far from the flames. Alem raises his staff in one hand and begins to incant a spell. His free hand traces arcane patterns in the air and motes of ice coalesce into being, sparkling in the firelight. A chilly wind erupts from the mage's hand, blasting the fire with frost.
"Of course, Seyhannah! I've been learning to wield a blade for as long as I can remember, I'd be honored to take you on as a pupil! And there's no time like the present - show me how you handle that scimitar on your hip." The swordswoman stands, stepping back to take an honest appraisal of Seyhannah's skills.
Fawziya pulls a long swig of water from her skin as Alem asks her intentions, and an easy smile comes to her face. "I'll stay there for a time, though I can't say for how long." She withdraws a pendant from beneath her tunic with an unusual spiky rune upon it, opening it up to reveal a compass. "The Society has entrusted me to explore Kelmarane's ruins and report my findings back to them. It's a mutually beneficial exchange - they get archaeological evidence of what caused the desertion of the town, and I get the glory!"
Fawziya's easy smile and aloof demeanor melts in the heat of blaze threatening to engulf the camp. "Come, my friends! Our strong backs are needed!" She races alongside Reuleaux and Seyhannah towards the wagon, throwing her shoulder into the hard wooden structure, gritting her teeth and trying to shove it away from the rest of the camp.
Zoisa finally catches up to Kaspar trying to hide on his master's shoulder, and she jumps up and grabs the monkey.
"Haha! Got you now! Now you must face the consequences of your crime! TICKLES!"
Zoisa laughs as she tickles Kaspar again and playfully wrassles with him before letting him go. Tuckered from that little adventure, she freshens up a bit before retiring to sleep.
The next morning, Zoisa had undergone her normal morning routine, washing up and chewing a bit of unrefined pesh after breakfast for a brief buzz to get her magical energies flowing.
When the fire begins, she gapes in shock at the harrow cards flying out and picks up the Cyclone card. She knew what that card was an omen of, though it seemed to be a little late. Understanding that these cards must be important to someone, she looks around and begins gathering the others, trying to avoid being too much underfoot so the taller, faster folk could put out the fire. She knew that fighting fires this big wasn't something Haleen had taught her, especially considering the biggest fires she usually worried about were bad mixes reacting volatilely in the lab.
Almah, Garavel, and four soldiers dressed in a distinctive red chitin-plate armor of the Pactmaster Guard run back and forth between the burning fortune teller's wagon and an uncovered wagon about 20 feet away. the latter contains a huge barrel holding enough drinking water to serve the entire campsite for a week.
There are more gallon-buckets available to anyone who wants to help, but any help will speed up the fire being put out. It would take about 9 rounds before the fire is completely extinguished. The more people help, the faster it will go out.
Four burly mercenaries struggle with an enclosed wooden wagon within feet of the burning wagon, hoping to move it to safety before an errant spark causes it to burst into flame as well. Already you can see sparks hitting the wooden side.
For those helping move the Wagon, make a DC Strength Check to try and push the wagon with the mercs helping you.
Most of the cards lie near the inferno itself, but you manage to pick up a couple cards that were taken by the wind as well, but they are singed and burned beyond readability.
"You there!" A sharp voice barks at you. You turn to see Almah, a bucket in each hand momentarily stopped as others around her hurry to the flame with their own buckets. Its unsettling, an anger on her face paramount to the inferno that basks nearby. The look she gives you is of one who stares at thieves and beggars, scrambling about on the ground like vermin as others are working to prevent disaster. A few others have noticed as well, but are too busy trying with their own tasks to give you much thought.
"My lady!" Garavel urges her to keep moving, a bucket of water in his own hands. She turns from you, and continues with the urgent task of working towards preventing entire caravan from lighting ablaze.
Zoisa frowns as she pockets what's left of the cards. Wouldn't Almah want even a piece of what was left? She knew she felt the same way about Haleen. She grabs a bucket and falls in line with the others, despite it not working as well for a woman of her small stature, not being able to run as fast as the others.
Seyhannah attempts to coordinate the wagon workers with a count down hoping that if timed right we could get the wagon moving. "On three! One! Two! Three!" On her count she strains to push the wagon.
If it turns out we can't get the wagon moving Seyhannah curses and grabs for a bucket.
Fawziya heaves on Seyhannah's count, but curses as the sandy earth slips beneath her feet, sending her tumbling to the ground. "Dammit!", she cries, her pride hurt worse than anything else.
Zoisa continues to struggle with the bucket as she drags it along, trying desperately not to spill.
Alem frowns, disappointed with how little effect his spell had. He watches the men throwing water on the fire, and an idea forms in his mind as he watches the steam rise above the blazing tree. Casting his spell again, he sends the blast into the steam cloud. As it condenses back into water, it falls down upon the fire again.
Almah and the others make progress on subduing the flame, though it is only a small amount. It will take another 7 rounds before the fire is completely out. Though small, Zoisa still helps one bucket at a time. Alem's arcane talents fizzle out before they reach the flame. If it were just a bit stronger, it would have contributed to helping put out the flames.
Seyhannah, Reuleaux, and Fawziya put their backs into helping the mercenaries push the cart. Though everyone's bodies strain, the cart and its heavy load remain put in its unhitched state.
"C'mon!" One of the mercenaries shouted. "Again!"
Reuleaux ponders the situation rapidly. No a lever wouldn't do much good in this environment, and the wheels were plenty greased already... He does think of a few things that may be useful or not.
1. If the fire is put out quick enough, then the wagon will be out of danger of catching on fire, but if you can't put it out in time you might lose the second wagon entirely.
2. What better way to move an unhitched wagon than by hitching it to a beast of burden? Perhaps wrangling the animals might prove easier at first and give you a decisive advantage in moving the wagon.
3. If someone were actively trying to make everyone work in unison on pushing the wagon, it would probalby boost the chances of pushing together giving everyone a bonus to their effort, but losing the work of the one leading everyone together.
Knowing that if they try to use a pack animal to help, her presence would more detrimental
than helpful. Seyhannah rushes for a bucket and begins hauling water.
Fawziya picks herself up off the ground, giving the wagon a good kick for its recalcitrance. "You two!", Fawziya barks at two of the sellswords pushing the cart. "Follow Seyhannah! We need to stop the fire at its source before it spreads to the rest of the caravan! Now MOVE! The rest of you, keep pushing! I will return with the horses!" She races away from the wagon, reaching the horses and other animals. It's times like this I wish paid more attention in the stables than I did to the stable boy!, she thought to herself, trying to calm the horses and bring some sturdy steeds back to the wagon to lead it away from danger.
Zoisa nods and throws her current bucket onto the fire before scrambling over to the camels, waving her fingers and muttering something before arriving at the biggest one.
"HRRRM...WEERN...AUUUU...HRRRM...HRRMF!"
Zoisa, go ahead and give me a diplomacy or intimidation check as you can actually speak to the beast.
Fawziya, Handle Animal is fine for what you're trying to do.
Alem's tactic to recycle the water used seems to have a decent effect, and the stronger blast of frost helps as well. Seyhannah abandons helping the cart in favor of putting out the fire. With Almah, Garavel, and her personal guard pitching in, it will take another 5 rounds before the cart is extinguished.
Reuleaux offers an inspired idea hoping to work smarter than harder.Fawziya barks orders to the several mercenaries, but is met with resistance.
"You don't fill our purses!" one shouts angrily. "We were told to push so were going to push!"
They seem hellbent on moving the wagon, perhaps some of their own supplies are stored inside. Regardless, Fawziya leaves them to try and wrangle a beast to pull the wagon.Yet, no matter how much she tries to calm one of the panicking camels, they strain and pull at her hold trying to flee the area where the fire is most prominent.
Zoisa on the other hand, is able to directly speak to one of the beasts. And though frightened out of its wits, words it can understand seem to calm him some.
"I don't think I could calm them down any better than one of you, but if you require my help I will assit you if you promise my safety."
The camel follows Zoisa back to the unhitched cart.
Satisfied that his spell is having the desired effect, Alem continues to blast the steam cloud.
"HAUGH! RMMM! AEUEUGH!" Zoisa replies as she leads the camel back and helps get it strapped to the wagon.
Once the camel's harnessed, she continues.
"HRRRM...WEERN...AUUUU...HRRRM...HRRMF!"
Seyhannah seems unphased by the heat of the fire. In her concentration of hauling the buckets, she doesn't even realize that she is sweating due to exertion and not the increased heat of the area. She watches the others with the wagon wishing she could help but knowing she would just make the animals more skittish than they are already.
Alem, Seyhannah, and the others keep up the effort to put out the fire. With the help it will still take 4 rounds to put out the fire.
Reuleaux and Zoisa work together in tandem to hook up the large beast. On Zoisa's signal, the mercs and camel push. There is a significant increase in strength, and it looks like the cart is almost wrenched out. Yet, it's still within harms way.
"Come on!" one merc yells. "We just need a couple more hands and this thing will move!"
Everyone may act!
Zoisa throws herself behind the cart. Signaling was pointless if a pair of hands was needed pushing.