"Grab a cloak from one of the dead," suggests Laurelin. "They won't be using them any more."
She follows her own suggestion and looks for something to keep the sun off her own bare skin.
"Right, back to looting for a bit, briefly look to see if anything survived the wreckage, it's doubtful we'll find much, but proper clothes shouldn't be too hard if we're not picky. I would rather not pick fights with the Jura-Dai, so after this we should head to the oasis that they aren't hanging out at."
The return to the destroyed argosy reveals a barren battlefield. Several elves lie dead in the sand, wearing little more than the clothes on their backs--it appears the Jura-Dai made sure to loot their corpses of anything valuable while the party was busy.
Strewn around the burnt remains of the wagon-fortress are the mutilated, arrow-filled corpses of the guards. Most of their personal effects have been stolen, leaving behind only their burnt bones and whatever burnt cloth and leather the Jura-Dai thought to not be worth stealing.
Dozens upon dozens of obsidian shards are scattered in the sand--some of them even as long as four feet. Were one so inclined, they could be re-purposed to serve as spearheads. Several sheets of glass lie beneath the wagon-fortress, with lifeless grey ash piled around it. A charred black human skull sits on the glass.
"Trouble coming." She points east to the dust cloud. "Scavengers, we might be able to take them, or negotiate."
Hearing Ick's warning, Khar immediately begins to grab some material to serve as makeshift gauntlets.
"What did that?" he asks, pointing to the glassed sand and charred corpse.
Ick-tk-chk-ka only picks up a chunk of obsidian and positions herself at the front line.
Laurelin says, "Should we hide in the ruins of the argosy, see if this is someone we should ambush? It might be scavengers, might be support troops from the same merchant house, might be gith. If they're friendly, we can talk. If not, we can hide or attack from surprise."
Cracking the handle of the obsidian sword had been simple enough. Not breaking weapons had always been more of the challenge. Splitting the length of wood an inch or so at one end and tying it with a length of thin string pulled tight. Some scraps of leather too thin to make much use as armour made decent wrapping.
He grunted as he slung the weapon across his shoulders and glanced at the dust. He shrugged as to the questions or hiding or confrontation, as he had no strong feelings either way. Or much chance of actually hiding.
"Ambush is good but I doubt our ability to pull it off. Could try."
Cale is concerned about the group's apparent desire to fend off the second group of raiders. He makes sure to mimic the motions of a telekinetic and minimize the total notions to disguise his spell-casting and make it less obvious.
After casting the spell subtly he looks to see how many raiders were coming and how well they were armed. If he can't see normally well enough he'll use clairvoyance
There are twelve humans, armed with a variety of mismatched obsidian weapons and clad in various pieces of leather armour--none of them alone are a full suit. The apparent leader of the band is wielding what looks like a staff with a pair of obsidian knives tied to either end of it. Their clothes are ragged, but still serviceable enough to keep the sun off of their skin.
Their eyes are wild and desperate. They move with the gait of thirsting men.
Laurelin scrambles into a part of the argosy from which she can hide and see the approaching group.
"About a dozen of them, humans. They look thirsty and not very well armed or armored... but they're better armored than us. Leader has a weird staff with weird knives tied to it" he says before quickly turns off the power after the brief glimpse is gained "we have maybe a minute to get ready
He looks around for materials that could be used to make a very simple trap quickly, or if he can't then maybe a ranged weapon of some kind. If that isn't possible he just hides, sword in hand.
Crow didn't really understand why they were hiding, or why people were a problem. But everyone else seemed to know what was happening and he followed suit, finding the largest bit of unburned argosy he could find and moving it in a way some undernourished humans would find impossible.
After the rest of the group tried to find hiding places. Ick picked out a spot she thought would be a good ambush spot.
Khar looks around as the others find cover. He hustles to find a spot near Laurelin.
Once the party has found places to hide, they lie in wait for the approaching scavengers...
It's a small key carved from dark stone, poking out of the sand.
The incoming scavengers arrive over the crest of a dune to the east, their pace coming to a staggered halt as they see the smoldering argosy. There's a moment of silence, and then an argument breaks out among them.
"YOU SAID THERE'D BE WATER HERE!" One man yells at the leader, drawing his obsidian short sword and pointing it at him. "YOU F&&%ING SAID THERE'D BE WATER HERE! There's NOTHING! LOOK! LOOK!"
The leader grimaces and unlimbers his gythka. "Relax. This one looks only recently burnt. There's probably some water stores left for us to take..." He trails off, looking at the scattered elf corpses around the argosy's husk.
"There f%~*ing isn't, Tavric, and you know it!" The dissenter continues. "You killed us! You killed all of us! You killed ME!"
"Neraad, that's enough out of you." The leader, Tavric, whirls on the enraged Neraad and points his weapon at him. "Who was the one responsible for losing our last water stores, again?"
Neraad grips his blade tighter and screws up his face in indignation. "I did no such thing! How DARE YOU--"
"Guys! Guys!" Another voice speaks up. This one belongs to a freckle-faced young-looking man with a club. "We're not alone here! There's a thri-kreen here!"
He points at the very visible Ick-tk-chk-ka--and their waterskins.
"Well. Looks like we've found our water, boys." Tavric turns on the kreen with a sinister grin.
Laurelin glances down at her feet and quickly picks up the key that she finds by happenstance. Lacking pockets she settles for tucking it in her halter for the moment.
Laurelin remains crouched in the shadows of the argosy, waiting for the situation to escalate.
Ick-tk-chk-ka held her claws up in what she thought was a non-threatening manner, the chunk of obsidian in her upper right claw and a waterskin in each of her left claws. She stalked towards the group looking down on them, "I have little use for this water. A trade perhaps?"
Khar keeps his eyes on the raiders. The second they attack the Thri-kreen, I jump on the one with the gythka, he thinks a moment before seeing Laurelin's movement. What was that? he glances at the humam woman quizzically, but resumes watching the encounter with the scavengers certain that they will find their overwhelming numbers more than a match for the insectoid and attack rather than talk.
Laurelin mouths quietly to Khar, key, and briefly pulls it from her cleavage to show him before stowing it again. Then she brings her concentration back to the visitors, waiting for someone to strike - probably one of the raiders taking a swing at Ick, most likely.
Cale readies himself to manifest a duo dimensional blade as soon as combat starts
When the thri-kreen shows the waterskins, a ripple goes through the crowd of half-dead scavengers.
"Only TWO?!"
"How are we supposed to divide that?!"
"Where's the rest of it?! Where's the rest of it?!"
Tavric starts to move forward to take the waterskins--only for Neraad to suddenly race in front of him. "That water's MINE!"
The rest of the scavenger band start to run towards the thri-kreen, their gait staggered, weak and utterly desperate.
Ick-tk-chk tried to focus on her circulatory system to gain control of it. But there were too many distractions, the enevitable conflict in front of her, the thought that the scavengers entrance was not concealed potentially drawing more predators, a pang of guilt for the scavenger's suffering counter balanced by her need to look out for her new tribe.
"What fools! Their masters should have taught them better." Khar mutters as he sees their clumsy charge. With swords in hand he rushes to intercept the one with the gythka, lunging with his short sword.
Laurelin remains in the cover of the argosy, unarmed, frowning. She leans forward slightly from her crouched position, her breathing becoming deeper and slower as she focuses her mind on one of the charging raiders...
... apparently just watching the violence unfold.
Burned wood groaned as Crow shoved it aside with one massive fist and rose to his full, towering height, looking down at the gaggle of humans. Weak, desperate. They should be easy to defeat but were backed into a corner. Such people did really dumb things you didn't expect, and that could be dangerous.
He moved towards the closest one, curling his fists into balls with a horrible crunching noise. With a shocking speed his massive hands lashed out three times.
Cale successfully manages to transform his blade into a two dimensional object, which he figures he can maintain for about a half a minute. He looks on in some degree of awe at the gladiator's strength, wondering if his blade will even really be needed before shaking himself out of it
As soon as the scavengers make their move, several things happen at once. Khar springs from cover and bears down on Tavric, catching the leader by surprise and burying his short sword in his gut. The leader lets out a helpless gasp for air as the breath is driven from him before he falls backwards into the sand.
Not to be one-upped, Crow emerges from behind the ruined argosy, and several raiders pause at the sight of him charging in. His wild haymaker goes wide, but his hook and uppercut do not--his hook catches the freckled youth on the chin, breaking his neck with a disgusting *SNAP*.
The remaining raiders turn their ire on the mul and half-giant... for the most part. One of them keeps their eyes on the thri-kreen and sprints for her waterskins, swinging his short blade.
Khar gets nicked twice--once on the brow from Neraad, once on the shoulder from another raider. He manages to fend off blows from the other two.
The raider group attacking Crow is clearly suffering from dehydration, and it's affecting their ability to fight. Only one scavenger manages to land a good hit on Crow's shin--the other strike hits his callused knuckles and he evades all the other wild swings.
The last raider swings his short blade at the thri-kreen...
...and nearly trips over his own feet trying to stab her.
Ick-tk-chk-ka marveled at how easily they bled but she didn't waste any time. She dropped everything in her claws and completely ignored the one that had approached her. She waded in between Khar and Crow and lashed out.
The thri-kreen leaps into the scrum and begins rending and biting her way through the hapless scavengers. She brutally tears Neraad and one of the raiders down with ease before leaping forward and biting a chunk out of another one. The bitten man howls in pain.
Despite the small wounds, Khar knows these raiders are inferior combatants. "This isn't sporting!" he shouts. "Lay down your weapons, now!"
The single blow that landed and actually hurt did not phase the gigantic gladiator. It would clearly take a great deal more to harm him.
This did not stop him from lashing out at the one who had attacked him.
Crow's fist crushes another raider's head.
Laurelin continues to stare silently, to no avail.
Cale jumps from his hiding place, trying to chop at the nearest target with his flat sword
Cale charges in and swings his paper-edged blade--and it whistles over the raider's head as he bends over to scramble for the thri-kreen's dropped waterskins.
After seeing so many of their friends get gutted or pounded into paste, the raiders start to run away in a disorganized, scattered rout. The one raider trying to snatch the waterskins looks up and sees the rest of his motley band fleeing into the wastes, looks back at the waterskins, then starts to slowly back away after dropping his short sword in the sand.
The raiders had the following items in total:
--2 complete suits of leather armour for human-sized characters, or 1 half-giant sized leather chest piece;
--1 obsidian gythka;
--4 obsidian short swords;
--1 obsidian long sword;
--Sufficient clothing to garb the entire party;
-- ceramic pieces on the bodies.
Cale dissipates the psionic focus, wanting to conserve the power he could "well, that was easier than I feared"
Khar begins to gather enough clothing to keep the sun off of his hairless head and body. "They will die in the desert." He states that simple fact without emotion as he pulls on a pair of boots.
Laurelin jogs out from the ruins of the argosy and also scavenges some clothing to supplement her scant halter-and-loinwrap slave outfit. "Quite possibly," she says in response to Khar while wrapping a scarf over her shoulders. "It's probably not a good idea for us to stay here too long. The merchant house might send more warriors to find out what happened to their caravan. Or predators may show up to eat the bodies and decide that they like fresh meat instead."
She glances over the obsidian weapons but has no use for them. Regardless, if any are left over, she takes one of the obsidian shortswords; maybe later she can trade it for something.
Flexing his fingers, Crow looked dispasionately at the men he had defeated. It wasn't quite like the arena, but it was close enough to feel comfortable. After a moment he plundered there clothing, sorting them out in a way that would provide shade for most of his bulky form. Mostly it was simply a massive robe, pinned together for now, his massive feet sticking out below the hem - there was no chance there boots would fit.
He dismissed the weapons - still too small, and his spear and fists would do - but if he doubled them up he might be able to use the leather. He glanced over enquiringly, seeing if any of the others wished to take it instead.
One by one Ick-tk-chk-ka checked to see if any of the raiders still lived. If they did she tried to stabilize them and if successful dragged the living inside the Argosy to shield them from the sun. She left a single waterskin for any such individuals.
If there were dead she attempted to field dress and make use of the bodies.
Finally she took the obsidian gythka but ignored the ceramic pieces, armor, and other weapons. But she did cast detect magic to make sure none of the gear the party claimed or left was enchanted.
After Laurelin suggested they move on and while they traveled she attended her companion's wounds. Not seeing any serious enough to warrant using a spell she used bits of cloth to bind the wounds.
She kept the party on course for the oasis as best she could while keeping an eye on the sands for danger, water, or game.
Cale'Anon makes sure that they grab the ceramic pieces before heading out and following the bug
The raiders who fell in battle are very much dead. Anyone lucky enough to flee the battlefield have done so by now.
The thri-kreen begins the grisly task of harvesting the dead, slitting open chests and working to dissect and extract the choicest pieces of meat and organs. She cleans off the femurs taken from Tavric's corpse--they'll make for decent bludgeoning weapons.
----------------------
Once the party has finished their scavenging, they begin their journey to the southwest.
The sand dunes gradually shrink and even out the further the party gets from the burnt argosy. As the hours wear on, the sun rises ever higher into the sky, and the heat presses down harder on them. The sand seems to stretch onward forever...
Mercifully, the sun gradually begins to set as the party reaches an outcropping of desert rocks. The sky turns violet and begins to darken, the sun giving way to the twin moons of Ral and Guthay. A slow breeze blows across the rocks, carrying a chill and desert grit.