"I doubt we're getting lucky. I make a point of never trusting anyone richer than I am." Cassiel replies. "He flashes around that much money without any bodyguards--or, at least, if he has bodyguards, we haven't seen them. Anyone throwing that much money around in public without protection is either hopelessly foolish or incredibly dangerous."
Ko patiently waits out her clutch mates, shifting just enough to remind everyone she is still watching out for them.
On the way to the market.
"Our employers continue to be persons of extraordinary wealth and power. Which naturally means they have hidden motives. As always caution is advised."
At the market.
"You want how much for the arrows? Look at these points. They could barely get through the sternum and puncture a lung. And your daggers, shameful. Not fit for slitting throats, no indeed. These would rip and tear making a terrible mess...Although it would please the spectators. Oh my, let me see that green silk headband."
Cassiel starts looking for a market stall with blue veils.
The majority of the day is passed in the markets, moving from stall to stall buying, selling, and trading for the food, water, ammunition, and other sundries.
Occasionally Cas wanders off, or lingers a while with some shopkeeper or another, quietly conducting business of his own. Templar patrols and the occasional stares directed at the thri-kreen force the group to take shelter in drug dens and seedy bars, or even simply down a dark alley.
By the time the harsh Athasian sun begins to set, they find themselves well provisioned for the day or so journey to the Right Gauntlet. Wasteland and sandy dunes gradually give way to Rocky foothills and then craggy cliffs and mountains. Rest will be needed before attempting to climb.
Cassiel comes back from the market with a few things, the most prominent of which are a large sack, a length of giant-hair rope and a grappling hook.
He's also come back with a pair of breeches and some thread, for some reason.
Once the party is out on the road, he brushes off his cloak. "A large cloth sack for the egg, some rope and a grappling hook to get us to it, and some pants. You never know--could always use a spare pair."
"I can take first watch, if no one objects."
Ekee completes her shopping and rejoins the group.
"Works for me, I'm better on a later watch anyway. Seeing in the dark and all."
Just sitting round being an unsleeping bug...
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He embroiders a geometric pattern of falling petals into the left hem of his new clothes.
The cold Athasian night passes quietly, although Ko and Sienna both notice small shapes and shadows moving about the rocky cliff: shadows cast by moonlight and the occasional glint of polished obsidian.
As sun the begins to rise and the group makes ready to take advantage of the relatively cool morning to get up the mountain, an enormous shadow swoops over the camp from high above. Circling high in the early morning sky is a massive bird of prey. The Athasian roc.
Some light scouting reveals a sort of rough path up the mountains into the cliffs. It is unclear how far one could follow it before needing to break out the leather harnesses and rope.
Cassiel nervously eyes the roc circling overhead. "Well. That's... that's a very big bird."
Sienna is usually scanning the sky or the horizon during the hike, rarely paying attention to the rocky lands or the desert itself. She doesn't seem to have much in the way of tracking skills - instead, her attention focuses on the majestic roc as it flies over the mountains.
"So..." she says as the group reaches the rough path. "Should we set up a base camp here and then hike up, or try to make it higher and camp somewhere on the mountainside?"
"Oh?" Cassiel's voice seems to waver with nerves. "Well..."
After giving it some thought, he speaks up again. "...I've never camped on a mountainside before. We could try to do that."
The group ascends the rough terrain during the morning hours. They find the going a little easier than expected, though more hazards than expected. Cas easily spots a weak spot in the trail, which by now is barely there. Stepping in the wrong place would surely lead to a landslide.
Yariq spots a good spot to make camp during the midday hours. A long overhanging rock provides shade, and the placement of several bounders allows for a constant breeze.
Around mid-afternoon they resume their climb, finding a narrow goat-trail to be the safest option. Or so it seemed. A hour or so after resuming the climb, a massive rock slide comes down ahead of them, blocking the passage.
The sound is thunderous and plumes of dust swirl about everyone. When the dust and rocks have settled a group of half-giants are seen rushing up the narrow path.
"Oh, dear. Path is blocked, yes?" shouts a shrill voice from behind the half-dozen spear-armed half-giants. It is easily recognizable as Yariq's sleazy patron. "And archers on the switchback above, yes?" A dozen humans armed with bone bows emerges from hiding. "They have been waiting patiently in this heat and sun. You will surrender, yes? I have no doubt you would kill at least half of them, but all of them plus my pet psion? You would have better odds with me. Just lay down your weapons, and you might live."
Looking about and assessing the odds, Ekee address the 'Patron'.
" You're right about that, don't have kill them. Just you." She looks about once more."But until then. I'm listening. What do you need us to do?" However she makes no moves to drop her weapons. "I'm guessing it requires brains over brute force. Otherwise these big boys would be enough."Indicating the half-giants."This isn't a robbery, we don't have anything. So again, what do you want?"
Before the team proceeds up the mountain, Cassiel changes into his newly-embroidered pants.
-------------------
Cassiel groans in resignation when the rockslide happens.
And when the half-giants come up the trail.
And when the archers reveal themselves above them.
And, of course, when their 'patron' cackles.
"Argh! Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!"
Yarig fells the rage starting to build within, he grinds his teeth trying to calm the rage inside.
"Why, why do you betray us?"
"What I want from you is your skill and cunning. Your pageantry and stage presence. I want you to simply surrender and allow my mercenaries to take you into custody. You will comply, yes? I would prefer it to showing up for the Grand Sabbath without a team. The loss of face before the Coven of the Gray would be high, yes?
"I see you are still a little confused. You will go to an arena. There you will face other teams of warriors. The last team standing will be richly rewarded. All of their possessions and a purse for victory.
"Kill in the arena, yes? Or perish on this rock."
Cassiel blinks.
"...that's it?"
Play along. It's the best option for now.
He shrugs. "Y'know, if you wanted gladiators, you could have just SAID so in the first place and avoided all this. Seems a bit needlessly complicated to me."
"May we at least keep our clothes?"
"The Coven has...strictures in place. And I need to win this year, so I would do well to play my role to the fullest extent. It is all very old and arcane."
Arcane. Riiight.
Cassiel looks between the half-giants, then the archers, and the party before looking back at their 'employer'.
"Well, you drive a hard bargain, sir. With an offer like that, how can anyone say 'no'?"
Ekee shakes her head and says.
Cassiel's right if you wanted gladiators, all you had to do was ask. I will be on your 'team'. But I will go as a Jazst. And Jazst are Free. Not slaves. Otherwise you can go to this Sabbath with the few survivors we leave and your new scars. Unless of course I get lucky; then just the survivors get to leave. I promise you a great show in the arena. It's a good deal. After all arriving empty-handed and with the dung beat out you, will only lead to a greater loss of 'face'."
Cassiel's face visibly pales and he stares, wide-eyed at Ekee.
"Ekee... you know how most people have a little voice that tells them to quit while they're ahead? Please listen to it. Before you get yourself--or all of us--killed." He hisses.
The man stares for a long moment at Ekee. Above, a shrill cry rings out. Everyone glances up at the Athasian roc circling high over head. The nobleman stares at it longer than the rest. He reaches into his ostentatious purse and withdraws some white substance. He moves in an obvious flourish of magical symbols and gestures ending with blowing the powder to the sky. For a moment the air seems even more dry than normal, and as cold as the darkest night.
The roc is engulfed in a fiery explosion mid-air. Burning feathers twirl down on the mountainside. "Retrieve the eggs. They will submit, yes? And yes, you may keep your clothes, should you desire."
The humans break up to find the bird's nest as the lead half-giants approach with lizard skin bags. "Place your possessions into the bag. The winner of the tournament will receive them, and the other contestant's possessions at the end. I will keep you safe during the journey, yes?"
Though his guards disarm and dispossess everyone, they do not take steps to bind anyone. It takes most of the day to travel back down to the badlands. Camp is struck and a decent, hearty meal is served. "Another full day tomorrow, then we will arrive ready to entertain, yes?"
Sienna has a sour expression throughout the experience. "All this hard work to avoid being enslaved, and here we are," she says bitterly.
Reluctantly,but wisely Ekee relinquishes her weapons. She makes an obvious point of studying the faces of each of their captors.
"Where is Farcluun when we need him? Says Ekee as she shakes her head.
As she walks by the 'Patron'. "Yes, but who will protect you?" She somewhat quietly mutters.
"We are all slaves, yes? I have no control over the part I must play either!" He replies to Sienna without irony, truly believing his situation to be the same as the heroes. "But our situation is only temporary! I'm sure I have the winning team, yes?"
"...er, yes. Of course you do." Cassiel reluctantly admits after handing over his gear. I mean, I can't exactly argue with a mage who can throw FIREBALLS around.
He taps his foot inside his boot, feeling the needle and spool of thread stashed inside.
Cassiel then glances around at his party members, his mind racing.
Alright. Don't panic. There's still a way out of this. Just need sand...
He takes a seat in the sand, letting some of it slide into one of his boots.
...alright. Red I can take care of, but blue... blue... where am I supposed to find--
...then he looks at Sienna's hands. His eyes briefly widen.
...blue. Bingo.
Taking note that Cassiel is up to something, Ekee decides to provide a distraction.
"Sir 'Patron' as to our arena performance. How about something like this?"
Its not especially fluid and pretty but does capture everyone's attention.
Cassiel looks askance at Ekee, but when he realizes what she's trying to do he starts his search anew, discreetly looking for a few palm-sized rocks and sliding them into his other boot.
...now, how do I explain this? Nibenese tradition--a way of honouring our ancestors by carrying the same earth they walked upon in our boots. Sure.
"Hahaha! Yes! Yes!" shouts the nobleman as he claps in rhythm to Ekee's dancing.
Once he has a few rocks in his boots, Cassiel sidles over to Sienna & Yarig. He turns to Sienna first.
"Has anyone ever told you that you have lovely nails?" He whispers to her.
"What? No," whispers Sienna back. "Usually they... wait, what is it that you want, exactly?"
Cassiel sighs. "Okay, I know this is going to sound strange, but I need some of your fingernails."
"...I'm figuring out a plan for us to survive in this madman's arena, and if it's going to work, I need something small and blue--like your fingernails."
"Like... the whole nail? Or just a piece?" says Sienna, not liking the idea of having to peel off an entire fingernail.
"Just pieces. Don't need the whole thing, I promise."
"All right... yes, with a little time and a rock I could shave off some bits of my fingernails."
Cassiel slides a couple of rocks out of his boot and hands one to Sienna. "Thank you."
He then turns to Yarig. "Hey, big guy. Think you can crush this rock with your bare hands?"
Yarig turns to Cassiel, still not knowing what he is up to but grabs the rock and attempts to smash it with his bare hands.
"Like this, or more?" he attempts to say to Cassiel discreetly.
Cassiel looks on as Yarig crushes the rock into a fine powder.
"...yep. That'll do." He takes the rock powder from Yarig.
After a moment's thought, he stuffs the powder into a pocket in his pants.
Once Sienna has filed off enough pieces of her fingernails for two little piles, Cassiel takes them and stows them in another pocket.
He then takes a handful of sand from his boots, bites his finger and lets several drops of blood fall on it, turning it a rusty red. He stashes this bloodstained sand in his boot, with the other piles of sand inside.
-----------------------
Once the group has settled in for the night, Cassiel finds a place to bed down and uses his cloak for an improvised blanket.
...please, ancestors, I hope this hare-brained idea works.