Patenemheb smiles very slightly.
"We are newly arrived to the city, and are still getting to know the sights and sounds. Do you have many arrivals from the Kingdom?"
Bjoern sighs and replies."And why? Well no matter I will ask him myself!"
It is utterly obvious that although Bjoern looks much better than before, no overt bruises and he no longer bleeds he is rather furious.
As if he has a very short fuse with idiotic behavior.
Samir looks at Bjeorn.
"Wait, ask who?" he says with a confused voice.
Farrokh also seems confused.
"You do not mean the dead man from Tharag Thule who had his throat cut open with a garrote?" he says with equal confusion.
"What do you mean?" he presses, trying to figure out what Bjeorn is talking about.
Patenemheb smiles very slightly.
"We are newly arrived to the city, and are still getting to know the sights and sounds. Do you have many arrivals from the Kingdom?"
[dice=Diplomacy to deflect the question onto one of his choosing]1d20 + 12
The woman turns a somewhat appraising eye on Paten.
"Newly arrived with outland mercenaries and plenty of wealth to recompense a temple for their clumsiness and you have no formal place to stay? Interesting..." she demurs, then pauses and turns and kisses the girl next to her long and languidly, turns and takes a cluster of grapes and seizes one of their juicy morsels between her lips and devours it then turns her gaze to Paten.
"I do not know how many arrivals from The Kingdom come to the city; they do not often enter my house, preferring to enter the house of the priest of their gods."
"For now I am pleased to know you, though," she adds.
As the acolyte continues to massage her neck and shoulders Jelah leans back in the water and sighs contentedly.
"Well; is there anything you would know of me?" she asks you directly, as if curious to know what questions you may have.
The young Susrahnite acolyte attended to her dutifully; she let him smooth the knots from her neck and shoulders with the fragrant oil; yet he did not arouse Tairin for she rarely enjoyed or preferred men of that age. Instead she focused her dark, sultry gaze on Jelah across from her.
"As for the local man? He rambled overmuch about finding a woman he claimed to be related to him," she adds, curious to know what Tairin or Paten may have to say about the person Talar is looking for.
Keeping her voice low for only the occupants of the room to hear, "My guardsman longs to find his sister. Such is their affection that it has led him to behave recklessly - showing his temper this day to you - apologies once more. She goes by the name of Aisha, describing the girl as Talar had to her, Do you know of such a slave girl in this city? I ask because we will find no peace until they are reunited. We will pay for her, if she is bound to a new master in this city." Tairin sighed softly and arched back as the young male attendant pressed his fingers into a particularly tight muscle in her shoulder and began to work it loose.
"Where do you take residence in our fine city? I would know so that I may have the chance to visit you," she asks languidly.
She listened as Patenemheb left the priestess' question unanswered and she wondered if the tactic would work.
"Newly arrived with outland mercenaries and plenty of wealth to recompense a temple for their clumsiness and you have no formal place to stay? Interesting..." she demurs, then pauses and turns and kisses the girl next to her long and languidly...
And, of course, the priestess was not easily swayed from the topic. "We have been most fortunate to have secured sanctioned residence only this morning - The previous master - an easterner, I believe, - has returned to his homeland. The estate lies just on the outskirts of the city proper. And, of course we would be honoured to have you as our guest, Lady-Priestess Jelah. Do let us know when you would like to come...," Tairin gave a kittenish smile; her eyes playful and mysterious as she lingered on the final word.
Seeing the mixed results of his efforts, Patenemheb joins with Tairin's.
"My apologies, Priestess, for being less than clear in my fatigue. We have only recently secured accommodation. And you are welcome to visit."
"Have there been exotic visitors from farther afield lands? While we broach the topic."
"Why he had to insult the high priestess."
Scratching his beard he adds.
"I have no idea about the other man from my homeland. I hope his soul hunts in the afterlive, feasting and fighting and laying with the valkyres!"
"Why he had to insult the high priestess."
Scratching his beard he adds.
"I have no idea about the other man from my homeland. I hope his soul hunts in the afterlive, feasting and fighting and laying with the valkyres!"
Samir shrugs and goes back to snacking on the food they had found while Farrokh lets out a tight, patient sigh.
"My concern, good sir, is that such a killing - death by strangulation with a garrote - would have to be done by a very skilled individual on a man of that size. And the trail of blood and waste his corpse voided led to public streets; which meant it was not done is a private place, but in a place where witnesses may have seen... and for men to move that body..." Samir grunts as he tosses the stick that held the roasted meat into the street.
"We are in a city; killing is a common thing, why should this surprise or vex you overmuch?" he asks.
Farrokh turns his same, frustrated look on Samir.
"This is not Al-Qazir; this city is not so tolerant of murder in open daylight, especially when armed guards are near, as they were at the temple!"
Samir grunts.
"Maybe, but such considerations are, at best, for the northman to think on, and he has. As for us? Are we not to find our comrade?" he presses, clearly not interested in these details if Bjeorn is not.
Farrokh looks to the heavens and sighs, then looks at the other men.
"Cities such as this do not often have riders in them; the streets are too choked with wanderers and are typically stabled near the market, or they are kept at private dwellings. It should not be difficult to find a mounted man filled with rage and urging his beast through the city," he says.
Keeping her voice low for only the occupants of the room to hear, "My guardsman longs to find his sister. Such is their affection that it has led him to behave recklessly - showing his temper this day to you - apologies once more. She goes by the name of Aisha, describing the girl as Talar had to her, Do you know of such a slave girl in this city? I ask because we will find no peace until they are reunited. We will pay for her, if she is bound to a new master in this city." Tairin sighed softly and arched back as the young male attendant pressed his fingers into a particularly tight muscle in her shoulder and began to work it loose.
Jelah chuckled a bit from her place.
"He said something of the sort to me as well," she paused and took a slow sip of the wine, then turned to relax back into the massage.
"I took him and his companions for mere bounty-hunters seeking a prize and I shall be no man's catspaw in such games," she says.
While her voice seems nonchalant there is the slightest hint of iron under it, as if she is indeed utterly sincere about the idea of being very opposed to men using their power or strength to manipulate or force her to a certain course, whether she will or no.
Recalling her reaction with the guard captain earlier you wonder, then, if this iron you glimpsed was forged with such encounters when she was forced to capitulate to the demands of some barbaric thug simply due to his rank or power - or rather, given the sudden look that is now replaced by genuine pleasure at the girl's touch - if she had other plans for this guard captain....
Apparently thinking on the matter of has annoyed her for some reason, though she does an excellent job of hiding it.
However, she does not seemed eager to discuss the matter further; the matter being, of course, lending aid to a man who threatened her in her own temple.
And, of course, the priestess was not easily swayed from the topic. "We have been most fortunate to have secured sanctioned residence only this morning - The previous master - an easterner, I believe, - has returned to his homeland. The estate lies just on the outskirts of the city proper. And, of course we would be honoured to have you as our guest, Lady-Priestess Jelah. Do let us know when you would like to come...," Tairin gave a kittenish smile; her eyes playful and mysterious as she lingered on the final word.
Jelah's eyes flutter open as she stares thoughtfully at Tairn's expression, her eyes studying Tairin a moment as a slow, knowing look lifted her lips into a thoughtful smile.
"My apologies, Priestess, for being less than clear in my fatigue. We have only recently secured accommodation. And you are welcome to visit."
Her eyes linger on Tairin for a while as she responds to Paten.
"Such visits with a High Priestess are not common, for we are beset with many duties."
"Yet I shall be delighted to accept a formal invitation when such an event occurs," she says, turning her appraising look from Tairin to give Paten a thoughtful but polite nod and smile.
"Have there been exotic visitors from farther afield lands? While we broach the topic."
The girl besides Jelah has slithered tot he stone floor by her mistress and is leaning forward to press her lips to Jelah's neck and shoulders, her hands reaching over her body to slide under the water to caress her.
Jelah chuckles a bit at the bold advance and slaps the girls hand away somewhat playfully.
She eases herself out of the pool and stands before you, the water dripping down her body in sleek, shiny streams as the girl rushes to stand up and fetch her a towel and begins to dry her mistress, the other female slave standing and hurrying to fetch a fresh linen robe so that Jelah may wear something fresh.
"There are always many visitors to the temple; yet, alas, I am often too busy to meet with them who do not visit me and mine as friends," she says with a charming smile.
"And with that, I must retire to those duties, though it was a delight to meet with you," she says with a charming smile of dismissal.
"Please continue to stay and enjoy the bath; and I look forward until we meet again," she adds, then turns to exit the room, pausing only to whisper to the female acolyte, before she then leaves you both.
The female slave rushes over to Paten and Tairin and begins to work gently on Tairin, so that a male and female now attend her while the female continues to work on Paten.
"Certainly. There is a proper order to these affairs, after all. Thank you for your hospitality."
Patenemheb then does his best to simply enjoy the ministrations of the servant behind him.
"Certainly. There is a proper order to these affairs, after all. Thank you for your hospitality."
Tairin respectfully inclined her head as Priestess Jelah left the bathing pool and their company. "Until we meet again, " she softly bade the retreating form of Jelah.
When the slave girl joined the male in tending to her muscles with oils, Tairin smiled and watched Paten across from her as he lounged in the water; enjoying the slave girl's touch. The tension in her shoulders and neck were adeptly rubbed/soothed away.
Turning her head slightly, she silkily bade the female attending her, "Come closer," and if the slave did as asked, then Tairin took her mouth slowly and seductively, kissing her with a practiced and expert ease. When she was done with the girl, she turned to the boy of eighteen on the other side of her and bade the same of him, taking his lips with hers and circling the fine tip of her tongue along the length of his bottom lip, dragging the plump flesh slowly through her teeth; smiling when she was done and pulling away.
To the two slaves working on her body, she said, a pretty smile gracing her lips, "That will be all. I am pleased with your attendance. You may leave us now. You will be rewarded for your work."
Once the two slaves leave her , she takes the oil and rubs it through her hair; the lotus essence filling the chamber/bath around her. She lay back down into the pool and rinsed her hair in the water; her breasts and hips jutting out of the water for any to see. Tairin remained on her back in the pool, enjoying the warmth of the water and the freedom of her nakedness. When she had enough, she raised herself up and walked out of the pool, letting the water fall from her naked body as she climbed up the tiled steps to the chair. Taking the linen cloth left for her, she gently rubbed down her body, wiping the water, before steadily donning her freshly laundered, loose dress and shawls, removing from her pack and placing Belit-lil's talisman back around her throat and hiding it under her clothing. She slipped on her sandals and loosely braided her hair over one shoulder as it was still damp and then turned to look at Patenemheb in the pool. "Will you remain, cousin, or do we leave together and return to the manse?" she asked him quietly; her dark eyes on him.
Not very versed in the art of Diplomacy, and not the most charismatic barbarian, to be honest, fails utterly at finding any clues at all.
But to be honest, he never had any hopes at all.
Patenemheb turns to the remaining servant and says softly, and without turning his head:
"You may leave."
To Tairin, he says:
"Yes, back to the manse."
He rises from the water, his relatively average physique now clean and considerably less tense, and he takes to drying himself before dressing.
At this time you are at the house considering your options in the dining area when your servant Kara ben enters your presence.
"Begging your pardon; there is a woman at the door who is here to see you."
He nods to your company and opens the door and a young woman comes in; she is well-formed and relatively graceful, but she seems to be walking with a limp.
You see she is in her early twenties, based on her features you would wager she is Jairanian.
As her robes part you can see beneath she is wearing well-made leather armor; and you see the gleam of steel from twin pommels of short-swords sheathed at either side of her shapely hips.
Her hair is in a long braid that drapes over her shoulder but her light cloak has a hood which she has pulled over her head to help shade her features.
"Greetings," she says.
"I am Sabiha, I have seen you and your companions in the house of Abu Khafi," she begins.
"After I saw you and your companions there I did what I could to find you," she adds.
"I am looking for help; I can offer you money if you would be willing to assist me."
She pauses and then waits to hear what you would say at this time.
With Talar still missing and possibly having left the city, Tairin moved to the sitting room and sat down. The day had been long even with her bath and massage.
Before she had time to wrap her head around what to do about Talar, Kara-Ben entered and introduced their visitor. Tairin remained seated and regarded the Jairanian woman with some interest for her curiosity was piqued.
"Greeting, Sabiha. I am lady of the house, Tairin. Please do sit." Calling to Hanala, she bade the girl to bring refreshments for them.
Then smiling politely at their guest, Tairin continued in a steady and polite manner,
"If you would care to elaborate on this task you wish us to assist you with, then we can determine if we can be of some service to you."
Patenemheb takes the news of Talar's apparent flight from the city with a similar critique to examining a gem.
"Talar's actions are understandable, if presumptive. We must make plans as if he will not return, but be ready for if he does. And of course, he may have set rumour himself to guard his hiding close by."
Patenemheb waits for the likely Jairanian and certain Yar-Ammonite to converse, while he ponders.
Patenemheb sits soon after.
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Then smiling politely at their guest, Tairin continued in a steady and polite manner,
"If you would care to elaborate on this task you wish us to assist you with, then we can determine if we can be of some service to you."
She studies you both, her eyes watching you carefully and speaks slowly.
”Between folk like us there should be no pretense…,” she says slowly as her eyes flick to the company, studying them.
”I have seen you in the house of Abu Khafi and I have heard rumor of your abilities spoke there – now I see after your visit that you have taken for yourself this home as your residence?” she adds, her eyes studying you.
”You are not from this city and have come into wealth with great ease, enough to purchase this property – or, at any rate, acquire it?”
She holds up her hand, as if to forestall any protest.
”How a man makes his bread is no concern of mine, but I deem you are used to rough work and skilled in such ventures. I seek your aid in helping to recover an item of great worth, but I should add that the particulars of such a venture may not be suited to those who fear to skirt those who have set themselves as authority in this city.”
”Still, if I am successful in this venture the rewards shall be high; I will provide more details, unless you feel this is not to your taste?” she adds.
Patenemheb waits for the likely Jairanian and certain Yar-Ammonite to converse, while he ponders.
Knowledge Local to know of Jairanian activities and cares in the city: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11
Knowledge Nobility to know if Sabiha is a noble of note, or an alias used by such: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14
Sense Motive to judge Sabiha's mannerisms and tone: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (15) + 12 = 27
Patenemheb sits soon after.
Samir looks at the others, then shrugs.
”If you are thinking of threatening us, that would be unwise,” he answers as he pushes his hand to the hilt of his sword.
She lets out a frustrated roll of her eyes and turns her look to Tairin and Paten.
”I did not come here to make threats; I came here to find folk skilled in aiding me with a task. The task shall not be easy, and it may rile the conscious of the weak-hearted; but the rewards shall be great and it will grant much prestige to those who accomplish the task with certain folk in the city,” she adds.
Farrokh folds his arms over his chest and scowls.
”Your hints are noted; but speak plain! We have already seen the quality of the authorities in this city, but why should any of our company aid you without information?”
Her eyes flick to him and she smirks then turns back to Paten and Tairin, pauses a moment to study the bulk of Bjeorn, then continues.
”You may have noticed that there has been more of the dogs of the guard patrolling the streets today? Or perhaps not… Well, in any case, they are in force even in these rough areas because, last night, two thieves entered the grand palace last night and stole a very valuable emerald from the bey himself; a gem which on special occasions sat squarely in the navel of the governor’s favorite concubine, a beautiful girl from Azjan in the East…”
She smiles knowingly, then continues.
”One of the thieves was stabbed by their partner, a dog named Osan,” she says with a scowl.
”That wound was not fatal, thank the gods, but it means that they cannot track down their partner.”
”This wretch Osan was rumored to travel to meet with a buyer to the south east this very night,” she adds.
”The gem is said to be worth roughly five-thousand gold pieces, perhaps more… it is useless without a proper buyer…”
She shrugs.
”If the gem is returned to me I can take it to my own buyer and divide the profits with you; and if the whoreson Osan is slain then so much the better, and my gratitude shall be much more.”
”If you bring me his head with the gem, I can easily double your wealth,” she adds.
”What do you say? The death of a thief who betrays his ally and the return of a gem rightfully claimed?”
Samir grunts.
”Slaying a man for coin is not the issue; but perhaps the rewards may be greater if the authorities are told?”
She gives him a short bark of laughter.
”Ha! So you would seek to report me to that basterd of a guard captain, Hassan Sadi, eh?” she says with a dark voice, as she adjusts herself to leave your presence quickly, if need be.
Farrokh’s eyes widen and he turns a frown on Samir.
”Hassan Sadi is known; he was a miserable wretch before I left this city, and we saw him earlier this day at the temple of Belit-Lil. If you wish to go to that dog do not count on him aiding you, nor rewarding you,” he says to Samir, then shakes his head, angry at himself for getting into a conversation with some mere hireling.
He turns to Paten, eyeing Tairin as well.
”You have heard the details; what do you wish to do at this time?” Farrokh asks Paten, Tairin and Bjeorn as the woman glowers at Samir and he returns her glare with equal measure.
Patenemheb has taken his time in weighing what he can ascertain, before speaking. Perhaps with an answer that surprises some present, given his scholarly demeanour.
"I would confirm the split that you have in mind. A man can always use more resources, so I for one am inclined to assist you. But my voice is not alone here, and I would have the words of all my companions present. I would also hear every detail that you know of Osan and this meeting tonight."
He glances at her limping form with a knowing look.
"While they speak, would you like me to see to your wound? A stab wound, yes?"
Patenemheb attends to the wound with his characteristic skill and swiftness.
Bjoern lets the woman sit down and orders water and bread and salt.
"Well what do you want? I am just a servant. I ask you to wait till my mistress comes."
"While they speak, would you like me to see to your wound? A stab wound, yes?"
The woman turns a bland look on Paten.
"It is painful, yet I have healed as well as I am able," she says.
She seems very uncomfortable at the idea of a strange man examining the upper half of her thigh, especially in public.
You do note that her garb, while elaborate, is probably the same clothing she wears on a frequent basis.
This is not uncommon, and if so, you are not surprised to see signs of dried blood, enough to make you think that she was stabbed there recently and the blood has now dried.
Tairin's eyes flick to the others and back to the woman before her.
"Very well; you have a task you wish to employ us for. And yes, we have met with the guard captain you mentioned; a foul beast whose days are numbered..." then she shrugs.
"The task at hand is to journey to some grim location, find a man and slay him and then bring his remains as well as some jewel he is trying to fence to you."
"If these goods are brought to you then we can collect some heady reward... Yet let us be practical - we are not used to being base assassins or thieves, why should you think that we would do so at this time?"
The woman smiles crookedly as she glances at the house you reside in, then turns a knowing look at Tairin who brushes it off.
"The chance for wealth is always worth taking; yet I say to you now that if you succeed in this task then folk in this town shall know of your skill and your reputation shall run before you..."
Tairin says nothing but takes up her cup and sips at it, her eyes studying the woman before her.
"Why should this be a good thing? Why would we wish to be known for this act? Surely the authorities would be an issue, if we agreed to it."
The woman leans in to Tairin.
"The authorities cannot do anything without hard facts, and when they have evidence to go after you they do not often act to arrest you if they fear you."
"You saw how the folk had to deal with that guard captain? And they were powerful folk; even so, the authorities in this city respect money and power more than the law," she adds with a wry smile.
Tairin leans back and studies the woman thoughtfully.
She glances at the others and studies them, too, then looks back at the woman.
"Very well; if we agree to this then you will deliver 5,000 gold pieces to us for the jewel - plus, fifteen - when the head is in your possession..."
"An additional five-thousand," the woman counters.
"Ten," responds Tairin.
"If you bring the jewel and head you shall have 12,500 gold... 2,500 for each of you," she says as she looks around the room at Bjeorn, Paten, Farrokh, Samir and Tairn.
"Done with you," Tairin says before the woman may change her mind.
Sabiha studies her thoughtfully and then nods.
"Very well," she says.
Tairin looks at the woman.
"Excellent," Tairin says after a moment.
"Now, sunset should be in roughly an hour or so, we have dallied long in this place, and you indicated that the location is near to some ancient ruins near to the city?"
Sabiha nods her head.
"Yes; there is some sort of dig to some ancient cult long-forgotten from Yar-Ammon in the desert. The diggers congregate there, but they avoid some ruins on the western side of the excavation due to some crude superstition."
"That is where you shall find the buyer; I hear they are to meet after sunset."
Tairin purses her lips thoughtfully.
"That does not give us much time; we must arrive there before the target arrives so we can act with some measure of stealth."
Now that the deal has been agreed upon, Sabiha seems fairly relaxed and almost confident in your company.
"Good; I shall meet you tomorrow at the house of Abu Khafi shortly after nightfall tomorrow to conclude the arrangement."
At this Sabiha bows to the company and leaves and Tairin smiles then finishes her wine.
"Let us gather our gear; we shall not arrive at this place for at least an hour, possibly longer, and sundown is only about an hour from now."
"We do not have time to linger..." she adds, then stands and begins to collect her gear.
Patenemheb accepts the refusal of his services with good grace.
Her loss, even if she does not realise what she has passed up., he muses with slight amusement.
Once the deal is concluded, he turns to Farrokh.
"Come, you will assist me with donning my armour, such as it is. This will not take long."
He thinks of his masterfully crafted silken armour, which he avoided wearing for much of the journey due to overheating.
The scholar will ensure that he is equipped with a fine staff, knife, and his medical equipment.
Once the deal is concluded, he turns to Farrokh.
"Come, you will assist me with donning my armour, such as it is. This will not take long."
He thinks of his masterfully crafted silken armour, which he avoided wearing for much of the journey due to overheating.
The scholar will ensure that he is equipped with a fine staff, knife, and his medical equipment.
Farrokh nods his head while Samir watches the decision with a grim smile.
Pausing, he adjusts his garb to fit more comfortably upon him and checks his sword and dagger. He pauses and heads outside and returns in a moment with a short bow and a quiver of twenty arrows.
This bow is not unlike one he has used before at the pass, but it is clearly in better use and the quiver is full.
He glances at Tairin.
"Begging your pardon, sayida; what next?" he asks her.
She informs him to be patient and then heads to her chambers above.
In roughly ten minutes she returns.
Gracing her light armor is a thin, black linen shirt and loose-fitting black linen trousers that she has tucked impeccably into her fashionable black boots. The effect seems to make her appear more Stealthy than normal, and it well suited for the terrain they are about to travel in.
She pauses to check her weapons and adjust the belt around her waist.
"We must hurry; the location is nearly two hours away if we travel on foot. We must pause to get some sort of horse or camel so we can ride," she says with a stern voice.
"We need horses, yes. But what of that archer who rides with us that caused so much trouble at the temple?"
Tairin gives him a glance as she heads for the door.
"Only the gods know; but he has not returned and I do not know when we shall see him again, if at all."
She pauses and turns to Kara ben.
"If that rider - Talar - if he ever returns tell him we traveled south to the Yar-Ammonite ruins in the sand. If he can find us, good; when he does he should aid us," she adds.
Bjeorn looks at her.
"That does not seem like a lot of information to give."
She shrugs.
"We have no time for long tales for men who may, or may not, return. We must away," she says.
With that the party prepares to leave -
Knowing just too well that a bow for a man of his size and strength is unlikely to be found in this southern lands, Bjoern does ask his comrade to tailormade one for him, knowing just too well that it will take time.
But for the moment a sling is also a great weapon, easy to buy and conceal and still utterly deadly in the hands of a skilled warrior.
-----------------------------------------------------
Listening to her words Bjoern scratches his beard. "But to ride in haste is also not without peril. I will go out and buy horses at the Caravanserai, a strong stallion for me and a few sturdy mares for the others. The others, prepare for what is needed for travel"
Taking a few gold coins as down payment, so that the horses are reserved and saddled when the others join him at the Caravanserai.
Thinking ofhid loyal camel, Patenemheb adds:
"Horses, acquired swiftly, would suit our needs more aptly."
Gracing her light armor is a thin, black linen shirt and loose-fitting black linen trousers that she has tucked impeccably into her fashionable black boots. The effect seems to make her appear more Stealthy than normal, and it well suited for the terrain they are about to travel in.
She pauses to check her weapons and adjust the belt around her waist.
"We must hurry; the location is nearly two hours away if we travel on foot. We must pause to get some sort of horse or camel so we can ride," she says...
Tairin placed Belit-lil's talisman around her neck and slipped it inside the black linen shirt for it would not do for a curious stranger or priest to look upon it and realise its worth and magic. Fashioning a multilayered sling across her body from black scarves, Tairin collected Sabra from her cushion and placed the black kitten within the deep folds - hiding the small feline seamlessly within. When talk turned to hiring horses, Tairin gave a perceptive nod of approval. "Do not linger, Bjoern. Let there not be an altercation such as the one with the now deceased, red-haired countryman." Tairin worried at what bargain her bodyguard would strike for he was not gifted with a smooth and cunning tongue. She did not have time to worry about such things now. Talar was missing, of his own accord and they were tasked with the gruesome task of bringing a man's head as well as a jewel to Sabiha. Tairin could not fathom Talar's motives for escaping the city at this time and she wished the man had reasoned with cooler head. Least she had left message with Ben-Kara to pass along to Talar in the event he returned the manse sooner rather than later. To the servants, she reminded openly, "Do not permit any stranger into this estate or house. If an official comes and asks our whereabouts, tell them we are visiting the markets and bathhouses. I do not want anyone knowing our business."
The servants have resolved to hold the gates of the house secure in your absence.
The party advances through the southern gates near to dusk and they note that few people are exiting the city at this time; largely stragglers coming to the gates to enter the stability of the city before sundown.
Bjeorn, Patan, Tairin, as well as Farrokh and Samir, push out into the road to the southeast and journey for some time past the few irrigated pastures and modest homesteads which cling to stony paths that jut from the road at irregular intervals. In the dimming night they can make out that the walls to such estates, no matter how modest, are being shut and barred – but this is not uncommon.
Even so close to civilization the need to increase one’s vigilance as night looms in the eastern sky is customary in a world where rogues and villains linger.
The journey over the road is straight and true, but it is also one that is filled with a grim sense of foreboding the closer the company draws to the valley where the tombs are. As they ride the sun casts long shadows before them, and they know that unless they ride fast they will reach the tombs roughly a half hour after sundown. At their current speed it will be nearly an hour after sundown, yet they do not wish to push too hard for fear of a misstep in the dark, even on the stones of the road.
Soon they arrive at the trail that leads to the slope into the valley.
Samir and Bjeorn have not looked upon its splendor, but the excavations and work below has been long and steady. Indeed, the myriad of servants and their labors produced a small camp below which should be festooned with the flickering of lights from campfires and scattered lamps or torches.
Instead, the company is struck by both the silence and the darkness of the valley.
They hear nothing at first, but then dim noises rise up over the crags of the sallow cliff near their mounts as they stare into the strange, darkened depths below.
Attempting to keep her horse steady and calm as the dim sounds rose and echoed off the cliffs, Tairin soothed the kitten bundle hidden in her scarf with one hand and gazed down into the dark depths of the silent camp.
Pushing her head out of the wide scarf pouch, Sabra peered at Tairin first, with large green eyes, and then lifting her nose to test the air, looked down into the darkness.
Attempting to keep her horse steady and calm as the dim sounds rose and echoed off the cliffs, Tairin soothed the kitten bundle hidden in her scarf with one hand and gazed down into the dark depths of the silent camp.
[dice=Tairin's Perception]1d20+10
Pushing her head out of the wide scarf pouch, Sabra peered at Tairin first, with large green eyes, and then lifting her nose to test the air, looked down into the darkness.
[dice=Sabra's Perception]1d20+15
A vague rustling and and scuffing sound emanates from the valley below. You cannot be sure at this distance, but you also hear the bark and cackle of what sounds like desert scavengers coming from the valley itself.
What do you do?
Hearing the sound Bjoern unslings his shield and prepares for battle, moving carefully forward to take the brunt of the first attack
Patenemheb sees his companions bristle, and realises that they have surely seen something amiss.
He whispers to Bjoern, to focus thoughts.
"Will we need your steel-work now?"
The company gathers around the edge of the cliff.
Paten and Tairin recall that to get to the base of the cliffs to the ruins below they had the advantages of a litter and carriers; getting horses below would be difficult and dangerous for such beasts.
"Where are the horses of the agents we came to track?" Samir mutters with a frown, his eyes peering below into the semi-darkness.
"If they rode them to this point as is likely surely they would not lead them down a dark, uneven mountain trail - yet there are no lights below. And if they had left the horses above we should see them somewhere..."
He looks at the others for a moment and then dismounts and lowers himself to the ground and studies the ground carefully.
"There were riders here, or at least horses - in the last hour I should think... They were led away from this point, somewhere around to the far western side of the cliffs so they would not be in the valley," he says with a vague gesture to the western side of the ruins where the shrouded temple was.
He pauses and turns to Tairin.
"Begging your pardon, sayida, while lights would help if we used them we may give away our position to whatever is below..." he says with a hushed whisper.
However, it is clear he is clearly troubled about something.
"There is something else, the signs are mixed - are any of you good at tracking? I could use assistance deciphering the tracks..."
Tairin dismounted and carefully moved on the ground so as to not disturb any would-be tracks Samir was attempting to study. In a whisper she replied, "I will not cast lights at this time. Yet, I heard rustling and barks possibly from desert scavengers down in the valley. I would guess that there at least three jackals below. I will do what I can to help you decipher the tracks, Samir," casting her gaze downward.
Patenemheb nods at Samir and dismounts.
His eyes gaze over the ground, seeking answers.
The company spreads out and does what it can to study the tracks and aid Samir.
After a few moments of searching Samir straightens and looks at the others.
"Thank you for your aid," he says to them.
"From what I can tell there was a company of horses that came to this spot... I believe there were six horses."
"The group dismounted and a single rider was stationed to make sure the horses did not flee."
He frowns as he stares at the dirt where the tracks are.
"Besides that there is evidence that jackals have entered the ruins from this path for some reason... I do not know when."
He shakes his head.
"In any case, there are other tracks that are unusual... It looks like at least one person came from the valley below and returned; at which point the man who held the horses led them away from this trail, likely to the western side of the valley," he says waving his hand absently to the far western side of the valley, roughly a half mile away.
He begins a slow, wide circle and studies the ground with narrowed eyes.
"All of these tracks are fresh, and they came from recent development, likely in the past hour... There was some evidence of a group of people who had come from the path back to the main road - but I do not know much of this; for the tracks are likely hours old... Perhaps the workers at the ruins returned home for the night?" he says uncertainly as he looks up at his allies and straightens his back and rubs his chin, the frown still there.
"Something else is strange, though," he adds and turns to stare into the darkness of the east.
"There is a final set of tracks - a man, heavy... perhaps about two hundred pounds... he left in a straight path from the trail to travel due east, though the road tacks south east... so this single person traveled, not on the road, but to the east over the desert sands... but these tracks are old, possibly several hours - only your aid revealed them to me," he says with a thankful nod to the others.
Farrokh's eyes narrow and he peers to the east.
"To the north east is Khazabad - to the south east is the village of Khadis... but due east is nothing but the desert," he says with confusion.
"If this fellow had business why not take the road?" he adds, almost to himself, then shrugs.
Samir shakes his head and also shrugs.
"In any case, we are to meet with a man in the ruins and then slay him and reclaim some gem."
"Would that we had a man better skilled in reading tracks then I; perhaps he could divine more information," he adds with a grunt.
Farrokh look down into the darkness of the valley, recalling being here earlier with Paten and Tairin and turns to Paten.
"My lord, if you elect to descend I can remain here with the horses and watch them. Taking them below would be dangerous and having a watch would be prudent."
Samir nods.
"Good," he says then turns to the others.
"We must be cautious when we descend; how shall we arrange ourselves?" he asks the others.
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The red mist clouds his eyes as the rush of emotions overwhelm him. He roughly shoves aside anybody that gets in his way, assuredly insulting more than one person but not caring. He doesn't even look at the faces as he passes. Ramul snorts is discontent, feeling his partner's anger and worried about what it may mean.
Once in the open Talar quickly mounts Ramul and spurs him towards the city gates. He weaves a bit to avoid the crowd, but otherwise lets them scatter as he picks up speed. He breaks out into the desert and spurs Ramul hard. "Go! Go! Go! " His faces twists in anger and pain as the wind whips across him faster and faster, until soon the city is a fading piece in the distance and the dry desert air saps at his skin.
After riding without face protection for a few minutes the stinging becomes too much, and the pain starts to distract Talar from his emotional pain. He slows Ramul to a fast trot, then grabs his riding cloth and wraps it around his head before spurring Ramul back to a healthy gait, but not full out sprinting in fear of straining his companion.
He continues riding for twenty minutes, letting his anger run wild as he imagines all the things he would do to those who wronged him, or even stood somewhat in his way. Finally he reaches a stony plateau. He slides of Ramul, letting it drink in the nearby hidden spring he knows was there. He moves to the backside of the plateau and crouches, staring at the rock.
Carved into the side is his own name, as well as another. Shamira. Worn by wind and sand but still legible. He stares at it a long time, the only sound around him the whipping of the desert winds and Ramul gulping water. Then he reaches into his pack, taking out a bladed arrow. Shamira...ever since you left this knife in my back, I have wanted nothing but to return the bloodshed tenfold. But every time I try I only make things worse. So here I vow, you will have no more from me. He takes the sharp end and cuts into his palm, smearing the blood over the names. Here is your blood. It is yours, rightfully stolen. But you will not have more. You and Farshin have taken enough. I will leave with my tail tucked, if needed. But I will lose no more. He turns away from the stone, then takes a shuddering breath and looks up at the sun.
Alright, now you have to go fix everything you f&*@ed up.
Talar gets back on Ramul, riding him back into town. Although he is still in a grim mood, he feels as if a black cloud has been pushed back, if even a little.
Talar makes his way back to the house, sure that he will have apologies to make and relationships to mend. But he finds no one there. He inquires to the servants where everybody is, and once told they've accepted a job he groans. Really? Out into the wilderness without me? No, it's my own fault. I stormed off like an upset child. Look forward, what can be done now. He quickly gets as much information as he can, then sets out in the direction his party members have headed. He pushes Ramul again, knowing that it is risky to keep him moving at such high speeds after days of laziness. But he had no choice, and had to trust in his skills and his horse's fortitude.
"Farrokh, you shall indeed remain with the horses. Should we lose them, our peril will be great indeed. As for order, I suggest Bjoern in front, myself and Tairin in the centre, and Samir at the rear to ward ambush."
Tairin cast her gaze toward her countryman and wondered at Patenemheb's election. in quiet voice beside him, she answered, "I am quite fond of Bear and his brawn is not disputed. Yet, he is less than quiet on his feet and will alert any down below to our presence. Do you insist he lead us down?"
Bjoern nods."If I walk down, everyone will know. Maybe someone to scout first would be better!"
"Those are solid points, all. I now believe Samir should go in front instead."
The party readjusts so that now Samir moves first, followed by Bjeorn, Paten and then Tairin.
As they descend the somewhat broken path they can hear the sounds of strange rustling in the shadowed buildings which Farrokh and Tairin recognize as the campground they visited before.
However, as they approach it is a strange thing indeed that the campsite designed to house the servants and workers would be abandoned at night - did someone order the people to return to the city; and if so, why?
The company advances and reaches a strange scene.
The location in which earlier excavations had occurred seems to be completed; at least, there is now a sizable opening in the ground and evidence that something had been opened.
However, surrounding the same opening is a wide tangle of bodies slain in a bloody and gristly manner. Corpses are rent apart and the flesh torn open in ghastly ways.
A forlorn croak from a vulture perched on one of the buildings near to apparent massacre is somewhat startling, but not entirely unexpected as it seems that desert predators have been feasting on the corpses.
Samir pauses to study the terrain in the dim moonlight.
With the moon so bright it is not impossible to study the terrain, but such examination might be better suited by a true ranger.
Even so, he does what he can and looks at the others.
"There was a fight earlier here - perhaps in the last hour... look, there are some dead jackals laying among the dead," he mutters.
"Would that we had another versed in tracking to aid me with these signs," he adds with a grunt.
Suddenly, though, as they ponder the situation three large jackals move from the shadows to slowly advance on Samir and Bjeorn.
There is ten feet between each jackal and they are forty feet from Samir and Bjeorn...
Samir rushes up to move to the Jackal on the left via a double move.
While he is not able to attack them yet, it causes a space for Bjeorn to move to flank if he can move up and strike...
It is now your move.
See you soon!
"Move and strike swiftly, Bjoern.", Patenemheb urges.
Quickly Bjoern moves into flanking position.
Bjeorn's blade bites deep into the creature with a brutal stroke. It is barely left alive, but still up...
The jackals move between Bjeorn and Samir and the third moves to Bjeorn's side...
Bjoern leaves the wounded jakal to be killed off by others and swing his blade towards the unwounded one.