Seyhannah watches the wagon hopefully while carrying a bucket. SPLOOSIZZLE The fire hisses at the water she tosses on it as if it were an angry viper. "You almost have it! Keep it up!" Sey yells encouragingly to those trying to move the cart. She then turns back toward the water wagon to gather more water.
Fawziya strains and pushes with all her might to help move the cart out of the way of the blaze.
The swordswoman's frustration rises as the cart refuses to budge, and a mighty cry of defiance escapes her lips. Her muscles strain as she pushes, and she redoubles her efforts. In the end, she is not only using every ounce of strength in her limbs, but her sheer force of pride - she will not be shown a weakling by this cart!
Seyhannah keeps up trying to extinguish the flames. At the current rate, it will take3 rounds to extinguish the flame.
Three of the mercenaries end up slipping in the sand while one puts their back into psuhing. The camel pulls for all its worth.And while admirable, Reuleaux and Zoisa try with their tiny gnome hands, the cart doesn't bend to their force.
No, the cart bends to Fawziya.
Shouting in frustration, the beautiful young warrior digs into her footing and pushes with such strength that she begins to move the cart on her own. Were she alone, that's where it would stay, several inches from its start, but the camel and the other merc put their backs into it and the cart tumbles away as a shower of sparks bursts out from a fallen piece of burning wood, so close to setting the cart ablaze.
With the wagon safely away from the burning pyre, some of the urgency for Seyhannah is removed and she is able to take a second to take in her surroundings. "Was anyone inside the wagon?'
She then picks her bucket up and it seems to dawn on her then... "Why are we using water? Wouldn't it be better to just throw sand on it at this point? We don't need sand to survive in the desert."
"LESSPOETRYMOREFIREFIGHTING!" Zoisa barks at Reuleaux as the wagon's moved to safety. She retakes up her bucket and joins the brigade, throwing another pail-full on the fire.
As they beat back the blaze, Alem can't help but notice the flames lapping at some of the brave men throwing water on the wagon. Already, he stands as close as he dares, but the others run much closer to dump the water on the fire. This is dangerous work for a man, but not so for a magician! "You men, fill the buckets! You need not throw yourselves on the flames!"
Chanting a different spell, Alem directs his focus to the buckets of water. Slowly, the buckets begin floating toward the fire, spilling their contents onto the flames of their own accord. Alem again casts his ray of frost at the steam, recycling the water.
With a triumphant cheer, Fawziya slaps the nearest mercenary on the back. "Way to put your backs into it, men! Now grab some buckets and start throwing sand upon the blaze! Follow me!" She grabs a bucket and begins fighting the flames as well.
With the combined assistance of Alem, Fawziya, Zoisa, and possibly the prattling of Reuleaux, the inferno is reduced to wet cinders. Almah, Garavel, and the guards collapse on the ground to catch their breath, those with buckets now drinking from them to quench their own thirst. Almah gives you all an appreciative nod.
A red-headed halfling cleric, Father Zastoran, kneels next to two severely burned mercenaries who tried to enter the burning wagon. He is currently tending to a badly wounded mercenary, but is unable to focus on the other patient, a female sworder. By the looks of her terrible burns and the color of her complexion, if she doesn't receive help soon, she isn't long for this world.
If you wish to stabilize the dying woman, please make a heal check.
Seyhannah hurries over to the two wounded mercenaries after noting her traveling companions where exhausted but not wounded. As she comes up to Father Zastoran she asks "Could I offer some assistance?" Not waiting for a reply from the halfling, Seyhannah reaches down and touches the wounded woman with her palm. After a few arcane words a warm glow seems to sooth the woman's wounds. "Hopefully that helps."
Zoisa approaches Almah and holds out what few cards she recovered.
"I'm sorry I didn't start helping the cart right away, but I saw these flying out of the blaze and I thought they'd be important to you, seeing as you're one of them wandering northerners...what do you call yourselves, Vareesiens? Anyway...the cards are important to your people, so I figured these were your cards. I'm sorry I couldn't save them all, but I want you to have them back. It seems The Cyclone's warning came a little too late..."
She frowns, ashamed of herself for letting her boss down.
Relieved that the cart is safely doused, Alem can't help but notice that the Sultan's Claw is still on fire, and nobody seems to be interested in putting it out. "But what of the tree?"
With the danger over, Kaspar reappears. Tugging on Zoisa's pants, he holds out an offering of a couple of half-burnt cards in apology.
With the fire quenched, Fawziya casts her sight about for any other problems in camp, and notices Seyhannah heading over to a group of wounded travelers. She jogs over, only now starting to show signs of fatigue. "How can I assist?", she asks, looking between the two injured mercenaries before helping to keep the woman still while Seyhannah heals her.
A red-headed halfling cleric, Father Zastoran, kneels next to two severely burned mercenaries who tried to enter the burning wagon. He is currently tending to a badly wounded mercenary, but is unable to focus on the other patient, a female sworder. By the looks of her terrible burns and the color of her complexion, she isn't long for this world.
Fortunately, Seyhannah is near and ready. With a careful casting of Cure Light Wounds, you can see the worst of her injuries close and the intense discomfort on her face ease into unconscious rest. Father Zastoran nods in thanks to you as his hands are busy aiding another patient who is injured, but not in critical care. Fawziya also lends her assistance, perhaps not as powerful as magic, but helpful all the same.
Almah has finished regaining her composure as Zoisa approahces her.
"Foolish gnome. The pesh addict yes? Garavel had told me he was confident in your magic, but perhaps he overlooked something else... Has the drug also rattled your thinking? What are burnt scraps compared to the last assets of my fortune."
You can tell she is very unimpressed by your decision here She walks off after one last remark.
"And you're wrong. Those are not my cards."
Reuleaux has one of the greatest moments of strength he's had in a while, sweating, he pushes the cart by himself. A few moments later he stops and claps his hands together impressing himself with the work he's done. Unfortunately, some are less impressed.
"If you can do that, what the hell were you jumping around and shouting for earlier!." one mercenary shouts angrily.
"I mean, the carts already out of harms way and the fire's been put out as well!."
Indeed, it does seem to the mercenaries confusion, that Reuleaux took the task upon himself to push a safe cart from a non-burning wagon and tree.
The Sultan's Claw itself has also been extinguished. Large burn marks remain, but it was a huge dead tree to begin with.
There is much movement by everyone as people prepare to leave on Almah's orders. She shows remarkably little concern over the fate of her astrologer, treating it more as a loss of resources than a personal tragedy. You watch as she and her major-domo make their way toward you.
"We're setting out soon, and I have a little job for you all." she announces in a hushed voice. She peers around to make sure none are eavesdropping and then motions for Garavel to continue.
"The destroyed wagon belonged to Almah's personal fortuneteller Eloais," Garavel begins, no emotion on his face as usual. "His specialty was a divinatory deck of cards known as Harrow, as you can see from what remains around his wagon. We would request you discover if there is any foul play involved, and if so, who is responisble. Talk to whoever you need to, examine the site if need be but I'd prefer if you don't go waving magic and swords about in peoples faces. You will be traveling with these folks for some time."
You can interview anyone you wish, and visit whatever you'd like.
"I get it! I get it! Just shut the f$&$ up!" the mercenary shouts, wondering off to the campfire with the rest of his fellows, obviously ready to relax rather than be lectured by a holy man.
Alem's brow furrows. "Do you have reason to suspect any in the caravan? Who among us could want the fortune-teller dead?"
Kaspar bares his teeth at Almah's back, ambling up onto Zoisa's shoulder and starts grooming her hair slowly.
Seyhannah watches Reuleaux's exchange with the mercenaries with amusement.
With Almah and Garavel
"Perhaps they did not like what she had to tell them on their last reading. Reuleaux is probably right, searching the wagons remains would be a good start. I'll try to mingle with some of the other caravan hands and see what I can find out. Reu... I mean Flatfoot Ray? don't get yourself into trouble."
Zoisa looks entirely put out by Almah's words as she pockets the ruined cards again.
"I...I just thought you'd want to save what you could..."
Later, when Almah and Garavel return with their request, Zoisa crosses her arms at Almah.
"And you're trusting MY pesh-addled thinking in this investigation?" she replies snidely, apparently not noticing the monkey monkeying with her hair.
Seyhannah places her hand gently on Zoisas shoulder and says so that Almah and Zoisa can hear. "I'm sure she was not aware that gnomes are resistant to the effects of Pesh. Allmah also probably heard how pivotal your ability to speak with animals was during the fire." Trying to defuse the situation. She believes Almah may have a temper and it was too early in this expedition to have be making enemies of our caravan leader.
Fawziya crosses her arms as Garavel alerts them to the impending investigation she and her companions will be undertaking. "I see," she says, nodding her head slowly. "If someone has personally attacked your man, then we will uncover it, and submit them to your justice. I trust that we will receive favorable compensation for ferreting out the culprit?" She directs this last question to Almah herself.
Once left to their own devices, she turns to the group. "I'll head out with Seyhannah - two pairs of ears and eyes are better than one. And if her entreaties fail, then perhaps the thought of facing Fawziya bint Abdul-Wali, Swordmistress of the Dunes, will loosen their tongues!"
@ Reuleaux
@Sayhannah, Zoisa, Alem, and Fawziya
Almah frowns at Zoisa's rudeness.
"I trust Garavel," she snaps back. "And while I have my doubts, he assures me your usefulness will be proven tenfold on this expedition."
She re-centers herself, taking a deep breath.
Almah starts speaking once more.
"I hired Eloais in Solku about a month ago to read cards for me. I haven't visited the land of my ancestors, but having a harrower felt... right"
Now that the emergency has subsided, Almah appears strained and a bit distraught at Eloais's death. Having been impressed by most of your actions combating the fire, she motions for you to get closer.
"There was something....troubling, however. His last reading centered on an auspicious card, the Cyclone, a portent of death by fire and schemes by powerful evil. At first I thought it was towards Kelmarane, our destination, but Eloais insisted the village was only a small part of something much larger, something he called the Legacy of Fire."
She lets her words hang, watching your faces for a sign of recognition.
At Fawziya's question of payment, Almah nods.
"Of course. dispatching a traitor now would save more gold than it would if we let whoever did this fester, if there was a culprit. I'm still not sure....But, you can definitely consider this a trial run of your mettle. Succeed, and I'm sure we can come to an agreement of your earnings for this trip, at a higher rate than most."
@ Reuleaux
A quick physical examination of the ruined wagon, not much is revealed other than sooty ashes, a few broken bottles or potion vials, a cracked crystal ball backed in the fire's heat, and several pools of melted wax where candles must have stood. Eloais's charred skeletal form remains near the center of the wagon.
There are no signs of struggle or violence as far as your meticulous eyes can notice. The fortune-teller was most likely killed by the fire or from its smoke.
You also notice that a shadow is watching you all from behind a nearby wagon. From his appearence, it appears to be Dashki.
@ Reuleaux
@Sayhannah, Zoisa, Alem, and Fawziya
Almah frowns at Zoisa's rudeness.
"I trust Garavel," she snaps back. "And while I have my doubts, he assures me your usefulness will be proven tenfold on this expedition."
She re-centers herself, taking a deep breath.
Almah starts speaking once more.
"I hired Eloais in Solku about a month ago to read cards for me. I haven't visited the land of my ancestors, but having a harrower felt... right"
Now that the emergency has subsided, Almah appears strained and a bit distraught at Eloais's death. Having been impressed by most of your actions combating the fire, she motions for you to get closer.
"There was something....troubling, however. His last reading centered on an auspicious card, the Cyclone, a portent of death by fire and schemes by powerful evil. At first I thought it was towards Kelmarane, our destination, but Eloais insisted the village was only a small part of something much larger, something he called the Legacy of Fire."
She lets her words hang, watching your faces for a sign of recognition.
At Fawziya's question of payment, Almah nods.
"Of course. dispatching a traitor now would save more gold than it would if we let whoever did this fester, if there was a culprit. I'm still not sure....But, you can definitely consider this a trial run of your mettle. Succeed, and I'm sure we can come to an agreement of your earnings for this trip, at a higher rate than most."
Zoisa nods at Almah's words.
"Garavel's a smart man, then. I said I was sorry, so let's just start over. That fair, boss?"
She listens to Almah explain the situation and upon hearing about the card, she pulls it out of her pocket.
"I freakin' KNEW this thing was an omen! Why else would it survive the fire when the other cards didn't?!"
She calms down a bit then looks Almah in the eye.
"I'm no harrower like your man Eloais, Pharasma look kindly on him, but I know a thing or three about omens and predicting the future. That's why I'm here to begin with. The pesh gave me a vision of a village illuminated by a massive flame, and that I'd find the person I was seeking there, in Kelmarane. I'd bet gold that someone wanted to shut Eloais up so he couldn't advise you about this Legacy of Fire stuff. Count me in on the investigation, Almah! The sooner we figure this crap out the closer I get to finding Haleen, my foster sister!"
With that, she bounds over to the ruined wagon to find Reauleaux...sorry...FLATFOOT RAY...already poking around in it.
Almah doesn't answer Zoisa, but watches her as she leaves.
If Fawziya knows anything of the 'Legacy of Fire,' then she doesn't let it show to Almah, but her grin returns to her face at the mention of higher pay. She bows fluidly to her employer. "Then it shall be done at once, O Merchant Queen. Come, Seyhannah, let us away and find the culprit!"
Seyhannah follows Fawziya toward the other caravan hands.
Zoisa pokes Reuleux...sorry...FLATFOOT RAY...with a slightly charred stick she finds near the remains of the wagon.
"Hey, Whirling Cart Dervish! Find anything besides the obvious?"
"Miss, I'm not married yet," she replies loudly and then lowers her voice...
You find approximately 55 gp in assorted blackened coins.
You can see Reuleaux's post above.
Seyhannah approaches the small cook fire some of the caravan hands have set up. "I hope this kind of thing doesn't happen often. My name is Seyhannah, you guys can call me Sey. This is Fawziya. What have you got in that cook pot?" She smiles warmly and looks around at her new companions trying to gauge their demeanor.
"Who you calling caravan hands?" one of them asks angrily. He stands up, teetering slightly as he steadies himself with the limb that is also holding a bottle.
"We're an elite group of mercenaries!" he proudly proclaims to the cheers of his five comrades. His speech slurs slightly and his face is a bit red from either the sun or the bottle. "And currently...we're finishing off some beef stew."
He gives an appreciative nod to Fawziya, before returning to his spot by the cookfire.
Seyhannah, feeling her own anger simmering just below the surface takes a second to regain her own composure. "Forgive me, I only meant it in the most general of terms. We are all of course working for the caravan. If it where not for all of you we surely would have lost another wagon in the fire. If not more. I only wonder what happened to start the fire. "
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"An elite group, you say?", Fawziya replies with a glint in her eyes. "Excellent! I suspected the Merchant Queen had an eye for skill-at-arms, but a whole unit of dervishes? Absolutely splendid! I mean, you're not nearly as skilled as myself, but still!"
"And, as my sister-in-arms suggests, it was quite fortunate that you were here today to fight the blaze. If not for my efforts, more of the caravan would have gone up. Did any of you see what started it?"
Alem listens carefully to Almah as she explains how Eloias came to be in the caravan, while Kaspar contents himself to eat the stray insects that have made a home for themselves in Zoisa's hair. A bug in the hand is worth two in the bush, but a hand in the bush is worth the most of all.
The others scatter quickly to start questioning anyone they see, motivated by the promise of Almah's gold. But Alem pauses awhile to think. Leaning on his staff, he gazes out at the burned wagon, the charred tree, and the rest of the caravan.
There were many reasons someone might have been moved to see the harrower done away with. Personal disagreements were common among the rough people who make their way in caravans, and Eloias was a foreigner with foreign beliefs. But it stands out that he had a special connection with Almah by way of common ancestry, and the significance of that points to a powerful source of tension. As a fortune-teller, he would have had Almah's confidences, and it is possible that he was paid more handsomely than others on the caravan. Jealousy over the man's position was a very likely motive.
As his eyes pan the scene, he considers those who might have been jealous of Eloias. There is Garavel, the major-domo. He is Almah's second, but perhaps he was uncomfortable with his mistress seeking advice from another? Yet we arrived with him after the deed had been done. He continues to consider possible motives of others in the caravan, ruling them out or noting them as possible suspects, until he spots Father Zastoran. Zastoran appears to be a fellow worshiper of the All-Seeing Eye. Perhaps he did not take kindly to a competing astrologer, especially a soothsayer from across the Inner Sea. Having made up his mind, Alem approaches the cleric for a friendly interrogation.
"Salaam and good day, Father Zastoran! Our firefighters are looking much better thanks to your ministrations. What sorrow that Eloias cannot benefit from them as well."