Drot kept a stead pace behind Gärwin. He wanted to get out of sight before Charles returned but every step was painful. When they got to their destination he took a seat against a wall and watched his stout bar guide eat his fill of what looked like the slop he ate as a child, but instead of greys and browns it had vibrant reds and yellows. With he knew a dwarf's belly could withstand most gut wrenching cuisine, but as far as he has found, an orc's taste buds shied away from nothing.
He met his friend's challenge and didn't break a sweat, that is until a young girl joined them and the few other patrons interested in the food centric competition.
At first it was a few friendly inquires, the kind one uses to determine basic compatibility with a new acquaintance. Once I began to notate in my Grimoire, her tone changed ADDENDUM: Tesswyn has since described this as "Too Into It", and conversely Charles described as "Interested" (I have yet to determine which is to be more accurate; a survey may need to be conducted). I was immediately bombarded with questions about the most basic concepts of lay-line control and internal energy routing. Once I revealed my aptitude for the Arcane, Glasha'ruuh vocalized a tone I would estimate to be a sound wave in the upper four to five thousand cycles-per-second area; it was truly piercing. This was the moment I regret most, for in her excitement she shoved me, a typical gesture of urgent interest among orcs. I would like to say that I was unmoved by her force, as that would have been the outcome in my standard condition. Hapless was I to have recently been injured and further hapless was she to have remained in my melee range for the six and three quarter seconds it took my body to recover. This was apparent to me after the still undetermined amount of time that passed before I could see past The Berserker's gaze and found her on the floor clutching her bloody face. If luck was real I ran out of it in that moment for she was also displaying a positive demeanor ADDENDUM: Gärwin insistently recounts this as a "S*&*e Eatin Grin". The first moments after I came back from the void of my mind I saw the aforementioned scene followed by the sudden eruption and conclusion of combat all around me as she and Gärwin intercepted four and one half bar patrons who did not take kindly to the striking of a female in their vicinity.
Thus concluded my time spent at the Pebble and the Pot.
I determined that a downtrend in my level of enjoyment was underway so I said farewell to Sir Gärwin and headed back to where we had left the skiff and our companions. It was a short time later that I discovered the whereabouts of Charles and Tesswyn which brings us to present time as I currently wait outside their private quarters. My time spent waiting for the good doctor is likely going to be spent answering the questions of Glasha'ruuh who has not left my side since the tavern; thankfully she has agreed to remain silent until I have completed this journal entry. Unfortunate though, that I have now completed it.
Challenge eating, binge drinking and a good 'ol fashioned bar brawl. Things were starting to feel like home again. While, perfectly willing to back Drot'ook in a fight, Gärwin saw the way the two orcs looked at each other. Once things had calmed down again, the dwarf gave Drot'ook a thumbs up and a nod before ushering the lovebirds out the door.
Gärwin stays behind, once more returning to the bar. While simply sitting next to the other, his medal caught the eye of a human soldier. Or ex-soldier, as it turned out. While the two of them were already deep into their cups, they were able to share a couple stories of wartime and commanders, eventually forming a friendship.
Any night that ends with a hangover and dancing with strangers is a good one.
Charles sighed.
"Never thought it would be you who would talk so strongly about responsibility. A dream then." He was quiet the rest of the time in the bath. His determination, turning to more stoic resolve.
Tesswyn is right, after all. We came here for a reason. Once we find the Sin Eaters and Drot'ook is better, we'll return home and I'll start seriously tracking elements of the Demon Lord.
It was a short time after he'd gotten out and dressed himself that there was a knock at the door.
"Drot'ook! There you are. I was surprised for a minute when I came back from getting information about the Oasis and didn't find you or Garwin waiting. I thought about trying to find you but then I figured you must not have been in nearly as much pain as you seemed like."
Charles paused, a smirk on his face as he examined Drot'ook and his companion for a moment, noting the bruises forming on them.
"Actually, gallivanting off like that to find drinks, a fight, and a girl, I'd say you're back to normal." he said, clapping Drot'ook on the shoulder. "I'm afraid you'll have to acquire your own accommodations at this point. Though there might still be a room or two open here. And who might your companion be, Drot? Don't be rude, introduce us."
After a few days, Drot turns out to heal up nicely. Between his orcish fortitude and Charles medicinal knowledge and healing magic, the bone sets without any issues.
In addition to seeing to Drot, Charles also starts inquiring about the Sin Eaters. Within two days, you all receive a summons to the Sheikh.
The palace was simple. It was more elegant than anything else in this little spit of a town, but simple compared to other palaces - and even mayoral homes - that you've seen. The outside was a white alabaster decorated with hanging vines and plants. The inside is similarly decorated, with misters spraying water throughout to give the palace a humid, yet cool feel.
The sheikh himself is a well muscled human, who looks like he is familiar with horseback and sword. He has leathery tanked skin and a short cropped brown beard with piercing brown eyes.
Ah! Welcome, friends, he greets, his friendly tone belying his rough exterior. May I offer you a drink? He has a servant bring fresh water in a pitcher on a silver tray with glasses.
We don't get too many visitors from the south with such a perilous journey. Most opt the northern route that travels over to the east, and down towards Foundry. You must be very brave indeed to have survived the
mud flats. What brings you to the Oasis?
Charles accepts their hosts gracious offer, taking an offer.
"Thank you for your praise. We were brought here by some information we found regarding a specific sect of the Cult of the New God. The Sin Eaters. The information suggests they are able to remove corruption from the soul of individuals and we wish to utilize their abilities."
Tesswyn marvels at the fancy palace. She thinks she'll have to get herself one some day. She sits beside Charles and lets him do the talking as she fantasizes about reclining on a plush couch in her desert palace, eating grapes while a half-naked Charles fans her with a large palm frond.
The Sheikh chuckles. It's amazing the stories that get told about us, isn't it? Yes, the "Sin Eaters" are certainly capable of doing such a thing.
He smiles; But I don't do that lightly. You must prove yourself to be worthy of such a gift. It just so happens that I'm in need of someone who is brave of heart. A friend of mine has gone on am expedition; I expected him to have returned by now. Go and find him - help him complete his goals and return with him. This will prove you have the strength of the Desolation within you - it will prove your bravery and your intellect, for you will need both to survive.
Drot marveled at the palace for a short while. He was interested in the misting system and began to follow the lines back to their source before thinking better of it.
"Someone remind me to ask about the water displacement method used by these diffusers."
He takes the offered water, never seemingly able to quench his thirst in this forsaken land, and listens to the Sheikh.
"It sounds like you have a detailed understanding of the trials your friend set out to overcome. Would you care to share that knowledge with us? I'd like to be as prepared as possible if we're going back into the open desert plains."
He takes a large drink from his cup and begins to make a few wild gestures toward the ceiling before quickly adding.
"I really like this artificial rain system you have here! Marvelous!"
I do not know much of the Tomb of Anak'Hainumen, except that it is a place full of traps and tricks. It is an ancient place, so you must he wary.
But I do know of the dangers of the desert. Dust storms, Lightning storms, and even boiling rains are not unheard of. Wild jackals can attack in packs, the twisted hearts of the Anubis will hunt you, giant scorpions may wonder across your path.
And you have experienced the heat for yourself.
With your inquiries into the dangers, does this mean you accept the challenge set forth?
Gärwin politely accepts the offer, trying his best to drink it slowly despite his thirst.
- - - - -
"I can't jes' turn back now, right? We're headin' straight for this challenge!" Gärwin puffs out his chest proudly. "What's the name of our missin' friend? Wouldn't want to scare 'im off before we can rescue 'im!" After a moment, Gärwin realizes he might be acting rude and bows respectfully before the Sheikh.
His name is Lemuel.
"Alright, let's go find Lemuel, finish his quest, get you guys's sins eaten, and be back home in time for dinner," Tesswyn says confidently.
One last thing before you go. He hands you a piece of parchment.
Go to the bazaar; you can purchase up to ten gold crowns worth of equipment to help you in your quest.
With everything packs and horses ready, you set off into the desert, headed eastwards. The first day is uneventful heat. Just plain old desert heat bearing down on you.
The sun starts to set behind you, and you set up camp. Much like the day, the night passes peacefully.
Charles has the morning watch. He stays vigilant as the sun rises, and the morning howls that can be heard across the dunes seem a bit too close for comfort.
He saddles up against a dune ridge and peers over.
Based on what you observe, you guess you have maybe a few minutes before the charge over the dune.
After resting in the oasis for several days, Charles strength is restored and the desert heat does not overly bother him.
Knowing that the chances of him successfully fighting off a group that size were slim, Charles slowly withdraws from the ridge. Turning his horse around when he thinks he can and rides back to his camp to warn the group of the impending attack.
"Get up! Everyone get up, we've been found by a group of Anubis'. They'll be here any minute!"
After the leisurely time Gärwin spent at the oasis had left him ill prepared for the heat of the desert proper. Sweaty and miserable, the dwarf was quick to set up his tent at night, away from the damnable heat. A nights rest did well for the sturdy dwarf and he Shook Off his fatigue.
Piercing his snoring, Charles' alarm woke the dwarf with a start. "Ah for the love of... Soddin' dog-men!" Gärwin grabs his sword and shield and runs for his horse, quickly throwing his saddle on it.
You have time to prepare for the attack. You may take any potions, spells, etc. If you have armor, you can try to don it and hope you have time.
"They haven't howled again, it's likely they will signal their attack when they do so we may have a minute or two. Garwin, I'll help you prepare your armor for battle. I was an attendant to a knight once, remember."
Tess quickly awakens at Charles's cry. "Dammit," she mutters, gathering her gear. She casts a pair of quick spells, hardening her skin and enhancing her staff. She quickly starts strapping on her soft leather armor as well.
While helping Garwin with his armor, Charles looked to Tesswyn and Drot'ook.
"Gather the horses bring them here. We don't need them dying."
When they were brought near, Charles paused.
"By Astrid's will, grant us the strength to overcome this challenge."
The Anubis charge up and over the dune, yelling out a war cry that would have been sure to invoke fear and chaos if we're weren't already prepared. They're completely taken off guard to discover that you're ready and waiting for them to attack.
Drot silently rises and and gathers his pack. He triple checks that his notebook is secure, hefts his hammer, and straightens out the light armor that served as his blanket the previous night.
"Praesidio; Corporis! "
He incants a familiar field around himself and immediately feels the cooling effects of the magic.
Drot stands ready; as soon as he can he expends his two castings of Unerring Darts. The darts are focused on the most formidable looking hound-men. Once that's done, he prepares himself to grab the first charging Anubis to reach him and use its inertia to drive it back into its desert rat brethren.
Tesswyn opens fire on the nearest anubin. She shoots it twice in the surprise round, but her follow up attack falls short.
Charles stood ready, the words to his blessing on the tip of his tongue for the first moment the Anubis figures came into sight.
"By the Grace of the New God, grant us the your guidance."
"Garwin, strike at their heart!"
"Alright, ready for them!"
Gärwin, atop his horse charges into the mass of Anubi, swinging his at the creatures as he rode by. Unfortunately, his skittish horse was afraid, and tried to pull away from the dogmen, unbalancing the knight. One Anubis soldier thought to take advantage of this error, only to get Gärwin's sword plunged into its chest.
The Dwarf continued to ride into the Anubi, hoping to scatter their formation as his horse plunged into their ranks. The dogmen were agile, nimbly dodging his strikes until one was overrun by Gärwin's horse and was crushed under its hooves.
Tesswyn drops one of the Anubis while Charles and Gärwin take down another.
The Anubis pour over the hill. Drot grabs one and slams it into a second. They try to strike back, but the momentum and collision prevent it!
Two pile on Charles, their kopesh clanging against Charles' armor.
Two attack Gärwin, both blades sliding into the horseman's flesh. With their running attack, they both pass Gärwin's reach to prevent a quick counter attack!
Two assault Tesswyn, one hitting hard.
Two remain behind, firing longbows. Arrows fly, one just barely missing Charles, while the other slices his arm.
Tesswyn grunts as she takes the hit. She opens her mind's eye to the signs of the environment, gaining insight in the path of the howling wind and the glint of the burning sand. She drops her bow, draws her staff, and lashes out at the nearest beastman!
As he stumbles, she swings her staff again!
Gärwin weathered the Anubi's blows mostly due to Charles' protective magics. With a roar, he spurs his horse towards the retreating dogmen, slicing heavily into both of them. His charge carries him through to where Tesswyn was fighting, disorienting the dog humanoids.
Charles grunted as he took a grazing blow from an arrow. But he focused his attention back onto the enemy in front of him.
"You will not take us this day!"
"Drot'ook! Hold them back, I'm coming!" Charles called out as he withdrew away from the Anubis.
Tesswyn kills an Anubis, while Gärwin rides past two, killing one.
They attack back!
Two on Charles press the attack, but Charles' bladework deflects the attacks easily.
Two on Drot come in swinging; one misses but one hits and then jumps back out of reach.
One on Tesswyn hits hard and jumps back.
Two firing arrows, one flies past Gärwin while the other sticks into Tesswyn.
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As the beast took advantage of Drot's split guard, he inadvertently unleashed a beast much greater than he...
"
Drot'ook was thrown to the back of his mind; like watching a play from the first row, he knew there was no wrestling this opportunity away from his inner rage. He readies the magic in his thoughts to help if needed but let go of control... For Scotty.
The calm and calculated orc's outburst was loud and drew the attention of the fighters just in time for them to witness his body swell and morph with power. The veins on his exposed skin became engorged and visibly pulsated with an erratic rhythm. His eyes turned blood red and wisps of flame flared out of them with each growl and yell. Over the next few seconds his grayish green skin slowly turns a deep red as the rage consumes him.
The Berserker knocks away the Anubis' blade and checks him with his hammer. Now that he was unbalanced, The Berserker kept on the assault and pushed the hound-man back towards his companions, but not quite far enough to disrupt them.
Drot becomes enraged and slams into an Anubis, driving it back. Charles stabs at another.
Two of the Anubis become frightened, and one of them flees.
Deftly dodging the attacks aimed her way, Tesswyn charges the closest wounded anubin!
She swings again, either at the same one or the other one close by.
Now surrounded on all sides, The Berserker grins with a crazed expression. You can see his tusks and teeth have become more pointed and misshapen while struggling to stay in his mouth. None of that seemed to hinder his ability to scream, what must be, an incantation as the next moment is filled with unnatural carnage.
Oh, come now. You could have waited for more of the beast-men to surround you. Efficiency!
Magical energy radiates through his arms and into his hammer as he spins around with blinding speed. He cuts through the Anubis raiders while continuing to shout and bark at them, ensuring that each one knows the transgression they made against the orc.
Gärwin was mildly shocked at seeing Drot's rage-filled transformation, but understood well how the orc was feeling. Steering clear of Drot's wild swings, Gärwin rushes to Charles' aid.
The knight skewers one of the dog men, but his sword catches in its sinew, slowing his followup strike enough for the second Anubis to escape.
"Flee you mongrels! Yer' outmatched!"
Charles was nearly taken aback by Drot'ook's newest level of ferocity. He was glad he'd seen this a number of times before. "Astrid, guide his hand!"
Drot's arcing swing of his magically powered maul kills nearly half of the Anubis. Bones crack and shatter under the force, littering the sands with a bloody red dye.
Tesswyn's charge kills another, as does Gärwin's. Charles' ice sword slices cleanly into his foe, leaving crystalized droplets of red.
You quickly dispatch the remaining Anubis.
The event served as an adrenaline filled rush - almost as good as morning coffee.
You travel on through the day, the blistering heat feels like it's boiling your exposed skin - and what isn't exposed feels like a sweltering oven.
As the day wanes on, you see in the shimmering heat waves what looks to be a greenery up ahead. Dismissing it at first as a mirage, as you get closer you discover it's real. Tufts of grass sprout up and surround a small pool of water. The horses immediately try to drink.
The sun is starting to get low on the horizon. Do you wish to stay here or move on?
Tesswyn nods in satisfaction as the last beastman falls. She wipes the blood off her staff as they prepare to move on.
***
Unfazed by the sweltering heat, Tess eyes the miraculous oasis warily. "This looks like a trap to me," she says, renewing her oak skin before giving the area a thorough search.
Tesswyn grunts. "Looks okay, for now. We should keep our guard up if we decide to stay here. A place like this is bound to attract all sorts of things looking for succor from the weather."
Over the hours of travel through the blistering desert, Charles seems to be holding strong until the last hour of travel. He begins drinking large amounts of water and is sweating a lot. His breathing gets deeper and more animated as if he was working the fields for some time.
When they finally get to the desert oasis, he gives a big grin at seeing the water and gets off his horse.
"Sounds good Tesswyn, I'll keep an eye out." he says, beginning to laugh as though he'd said something funny. "I think we should stay here for the night. This'll probably be the best place we'll find" he says finally moving for the water himself along with the horses.
You decide to set up camp and rest for the night, with a source of cool fresh water nearby.
Your night is fitful; full of unsettling dreams. It is so fitful that you do not benefit from the Rest.
So looks at you and whispers something. You try to take a step back, but cannot move your legs. The world starts to shift, and the horizon quickly falls away from you while the night sky fills your vision. A soft thud poofs out as your back and head hit the sand.
She walks up to you and smiles, her face the equal of any nightmare you've ever had. She takes your pants off and mounts you.
Time passes. You awake with a white waxy substance covering your face, chest, and groin. The sun is just about to rise.
When you awake, you discover Drot lying flat on his back in the sands, covered in a white waxy substance on his face and presumably his chest (if he's wearing a shirt).
Charles groaned with discomfort as he awoke the next morning. Despite having removed his own fatigue with his healing magic, he was not feeling refreshed at all.
"Ugh, is it morning already? No... I did not sleep well."
He stands up to go wash his face in the pond. As he starts to cross the way, his enhanced vision catches Drot'ooks form and his head snaps over, he walks steadily towards the Orc, his face confused.
"Drot'ook! Wha-... what is that? What are you covered in?"
Drot remains motionless, though you can see his eyes are open. As you get closer he looks away from you, refusing to meet your gaze.
"I am not sure. Something... Happened early this morning. Unfortunately I do not seem to have the descriptors required to accurately recount the incident, at this time."
His voice and cadence was even more clockwork-esque then usual, even more then the way it is while he's working or hasn't slept in too long. He slowly reached his had to his bare chest and felt the substance in question.
"Similar to a wax, unusually sturdy, does not scrape off as one would expect, does not hinder sensitivity, no effect to personal health thus far..."
Charles shook his head, clearly confused by Drot'ook's meaning. "What? You can't tell me what happened? But you say it doesn't seem to be harming you any?" He raised his arms in a helpless gesture.
"Well maybe you can wash it off. Whatever it is probably dried out already. Let's get you up and to the water then." he says offering a hand to the Orc.
Drot stares at Charles' hand for several moments until at last he slowly reaches for him. Charles can see Drot's eyes begin to pool tears and they stream down his cheek. When he grabs the man's hand, his eyes turn berserker red and he crushes Charles' hand with his grip. Being of equal strength, the crushing grip was countered and Charles was able to pry his hand free of the orc's giant fingers. No longer prone, Drot lashes out at the paladin with his other fist, narrowly missing his friend as he stood up.
"Drot'ook! Damn it!" Charles shouts in surprise, as the Orc begins his sudden assault.
"DON'T TOUCH US, HUMAN!"
"Don't hurt Charles!"
Two voices speak at once, fighting to be heard. The orc falters as he swings at Charles again. It is clear there is another fight going on in the poor creature's mind.
Charles steps back barely, dodging the strike only because of the raging Orc's sudden lack of commitment to the swing. He's momentarily confused by what he was seeing in front of him.
His instinct was to attack back but he held his ground. He was too uncertain what would happen.
"Drot'ook, what's happening? What is this?"
"SAID....................TOUCH!"
...........DoN't LiKe................
"I just...................that, I don't!"
The orc's voices speak in unison and two words ring out louder then any shout. He rushes at Charles again but collapses at his feet, and for the second time in two days he breaks down and sobs. This time there is no exhaustion to take him, but he is able to gather himself together and move along. He struggles to say much of anything, his mind so full of disorganized thoughts. He sets about meticulously packing his things, and it seems to relax him as he does.
You pack up and head out into the day. By mid afternoon, you come across a curious site.
Several stone fountains are askew in the desert sands. This ancient garden looks like it was once beautiful and verdant, but the desolation has long since reclaimed it. Piles of pottery shards and ruined stone shelves dot the area. A series of large brittle rib bones with an indescribable horned animal skull are found in a shallow clearing. A giant lizard is cast in sparkling crystal and partially buried in the sand. Beside it are many pitted iron instruments of torture.
In addition to all this, you come across a fellow explorer of the Desolation.
Under cover of one of the larger ruins, a shapely and slender woman tends to a horse. The animal, a brown and white roan that looks lean and strong, appears to be in good health -- surprising, this deep into the desert. The woman, traveling alone, has clearly camped here overnight, and looks to be now making ready to leave. She wears flowing green robes that cling to her dusky skin, and her emerald eyes shine as she settles her gaze on the group. There is power in that gaze, strength. Her dark hair stirs in a wind that the four adventurers don't feel, and the attractive woman plants her walking staff in the sand as she turns to the newcomers, lifting her chin.
"Well met. I am Kahtia of the Tower Arcane, in Caecras," she calls out as they approach. She eyes the brutish Orc, but notes his companions' comfort with him. "Who are you, travelers? Are you lost in the Desolation? This is no land for wandering."
Tesswyn brushes sand off a lead box, but she makes a face when she sees the teeth inside it. "Ew."
She looks up as the other woman calls out, narrowing her eyes. This girl is far too pretty to be out here alone. She watches her warily but lets the others do the talking.
Gärwin sizes up the foreign woman, speaking slowly. "We were called t' aid another. A bloke by the name of Lemuel or summit'. Don't suppose you've heard of 'im?"
What really catches his eye is the crystalline lizard. A small flame of avarice lights in his dwarven heart. Hand on the pommel of his blade, the dwarf slowly moves to inspect the statue, while keeping an eye on the other.