"Crow!" Khar shouts behind his shoulder and nods his head at the jhakar furthest away. He turns about and hops forward with his blades flashing as he takes position beside Ick.
Khar's longer blade hits a thick patch of hide and fails to harm the jhakar, but his short sword strikes the beast's flank and draws a lot of blood!
Laurelin concentrates again, reaching with her mind out toward the jhakar clamped onto Ick that hasn't been stabbed yet...
Laurelin finds the jhakar's mind readily vulnerable. She can feel an echo of its raw, primal hunger.
Cale charges forward to attack the beastie and try and dislodge it from his insect ally, slicing with his blade
Cale leaps to Ick-tk-chk-ka's aid--and his sword, glowing with the last of the Fire's blessing, finds its mark! It sinks into the back of the jhakar's head, causing its deathgrip to come loose. It tumbles off the thri-kreen's back.
Ick-tk-chk-ka's abdomen twitches in pain but she fights through it. Somehow continuing to focus her Will she lashes out at the remaining jhakar.
Ick-tk-chk-ka plunges one claw into the last jhakar's belly, then bites down on its throat and tears it out with one swift motion. The lizard immediately goes limp.
Laurelin's mental thread snaps, and she hurries to the sides of her companions.
"We have to dress these corpses quickly," she says. {b]"The heat will spoil the meat fast. Can someone build a fire? Anyone have an obsidian knife or blade I can use?"[/b]
A quick search of the premises reveals enough materials to build a fire and a few obsidian shards sharp enough to serve as knives.
The following items can be looted from the jhakar nest:
--1 full suit of leather armour (arms, legs, chest), scattered about the armour racks;
--1 Large-sized obsidian greatsword
--1 scroll of aged parchment, kept in a leather scroll tube
--1 chest piece of bone brigandine armour.
Laurelin scoops up one of the obsidian chunks and sets to carving up one of the lizards. "If someone can get a fire started... we have to cook this meat to make sure it doesn't spread disease or parasites when we eat it."
Crow's eyes widened in shock as he raised his spear, staring at the glass sword before him. His eyes looked like obsidian themselves as he took in what must be the largest piece of carved obsidian he has ever seen.
Unlike previous times Crow does not ask if anyone else wants the item. Only Khar would likely be able to even lift the thing, and it wouldn't be weighted well for his height. Instead, Crow simply claims the huge blade, staring at in awe for a moment.
When Laurelin asked her question, Crow shook his head distractedly.
After helping butcher the animals they had killed and verifying that her companions weren't injured she said, "You need to lay about unconscious. Correct? I will keep watch outside."
She steps outside of the half-destroyed tower and basked in the effulgent red light of the sun. She drew in the energy and put it to constructive purpose rather than destructive.
Soon the cracks on exoskeleton snapped back in place and healed over. The warmth soothed her sore and torn muscles and helped her speed up the recovery of torn ligaments. While she did this she remained perfectly still for nearly three hours. She felt her need to eat and drink melt away as she also drew in energy to meet those needs as well.
Her body tended to she turned to restoring her mind. She meditated on the fiery sun. Finally she prayed to fire for the ability to heal and bless her companions and see magical auras.
Still skinning one of the lizards, Laurelin pauses with bloody hands and says, "Yes, we will need some time to recuperate. This ruin is fortuitous. It will offer us a modicum of shelter from the sun," she says.
"If you ever wish to experience what it's like for us, I can simulate the effect for you," she notes. "Just so you have some idea of what we go through."
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Ick-tk-chk-ka was unnerved by Laurelin's proposal. The prospect of purposefully becoming unaware as if she had taken a large blow to her head or had passed out from blood loss. She decided to answer tactfully, "Maybe when we're safer."
"Probably wise." Crunch and the beastmistress hacks off another haunch.
Cale sits by them and helps with the butchering "So I take it you are a telepath then? That's not exactly my own strong suit but regardless that is fascinating stuff"
"I've had the affinity since my youth," replies Laurelin. "Since my family raised herds, I was encouraged to develop my abilities. My parents even arranged for occasional tutoring. I learned to contact and control animals and developed a special affinity for insects, which is how I was able to become an apiarist - able to raise beehives for wax and honey. I also learned the rudiments of some body control powers to make it through hard times and to supplement my ability to keep domestic animals docile."
"Practical uses all," He says, nodding where appropriate and listening intently "I expect your people will be missing you and those talents. What do you plan to do once we get back to civilization?"
Laurelin looks down at the ground a moment, then says, "My whole village was swept up and carted off to the slave pens. I expect most of them are going to become work-slaves in the obsidian mines, or sacrifices for the Dragon's Levy."
"I have no desire to tarry in the city, but somehow must earn some money or find a place to live. I expect the only way to do so is to barter my skills."
"I wonder if my skills would be useful anywhere," Khar says softly, truly unsure. He stares at the armors, half distracted by a memory of his training. Thoughts of the past make him feel safe, but thinking of his open future made him anxious. "I need..." He couldn't quite find the words to describe it, and shakes his head. "What is the Dragon's Levy?"
"I know of the practice only by the name," admits Laurelin. "Every year the templars of the city-states round up slaves and bring them out into the desert. Stories about why are many... some say it is to take the weak, the worst offenders, the elderly, and leave them in the desert to die. Others say that the dragon comes and devours them. Some say that they are secretly chosen to be liberated by the whims of the sorcerer-monarchs, and they are freed and escorted to a remote place where they may live out their days in peace and plenty - an old wives' tale, to be sure. All I know is that to be a slave in the city-states is an uncertain fate, because the Levy comes once per year, and those taken away for it never return."
"I earned my old masters coin by fighting. I can do it for you instead." Crow shrugged his massive shoulders. "Hard to hurt. Can heal myself a little. Get rid of illnesses, too. Fight harder, fight longer." He looked at the massive sword. "This will help."
The sun crawls sluggishly across the burning sky as the day goes on. The party takes the opportunity to rest, recuperate, and reassess.
---------------------------
Day 2, Nighttime
The sun sinks beyond the far horizon, giving way to the twin moons of Ral and Guthay once more. Thousands upon thousands of stars twinkle in the heavens--some blue, some green, a scant few a bloody red.
The rolling sand gradually recedes as the party trudges onward, giving way to sun-baked stretches of orange-red rock and eroded plinths of stone. A harsh wind howls across the rocks, bringing with it a burst of frigid, stinging grit. The stones here are scoured almost entirely flat, and it appears they're gradually being further ground into dust by the elements.
Curiously, sitting on a rock outcropping beneath a boulder carved in a spiral shape is a lone figure wrapped in a brown cloak. They're sitting in a lotus position, remaining still and unmoving. Those with infravision can clearly see what this figure is--namely, an elven woman with dark skin and long black hair.
She doesn't appear to have noticed the party's arrival--or if she has, she doesn't seem concerned.
"What are they? The lights?" Khar asks Laurelin, pointing to the stars above. "I am not used to seeing the night sky."
When he spots the seated figure he quietly draws the obsidian bastard sword and looks to the thri kreen expectantly.
The gigantic Crow looked over at Cale, assuming he would have something to say about this. And how likely this was to be a trap.
Laurelin whispers to Khar, "The stars? Well, I've heard a few stories. Some people say that they are the last remnants of great heroes of antiquity, who went up into the sky long ago. Others say that they are the eyes of lost minds wandering in the dark, psionicists who delved too far with their powers and came untethered from their minds. I don't think anyone really knows for certain... maybe the most knowledgeable sages or keepers of the darkest sorcerous secrets."
She points to a few of the lights and says, "I hear tell that drifters who wander the wastes can use the lights to navigate... that most of them stay fixed in certain points in the sky. I don't know how to do that, though. I suppose ultimately they are as much a mystery to me as to you." She smiles shyly at the whimsical thought.
<Do you always interrupt meditations this way, sir?>
Khar feels a strange feeling wash through his body, similar to how he felt when an exotic beast was introduced to fight against him in the arena. He looks at his sword and then the figure before assuming a defensive stance and speaking aloud. "No. Do you always intrude in other's minds this way?" After a moment he adds, "Ma'am?"
Ick changes her stance so that she is on guard. She buzzes, "Elf, please don't intrude on my clutch-mate's mind. We will be on our way unless you wish to talk." Ick almost added 'or fight' but restrained her mandibles.
"No. Do you always intrude in other's minds this way?"
"Only when they draw a blade on me like I'm some sort of monster." The elf replies, finally opening her eyes.
"Elf, please don't intrude on my clutch-mate's mind. We will be on our way unless you wish to talk."
The elf's eyes dart to the thri-kreen, and she pauses.
"...of course. My apologies." She finally says. "I suppose I could appreciate some company tonight, if you'd be alright with that."
"I don't mind at all, it's lovely to see another elf, even a brown one. I am Cale'Anon Vaty of the Sky singers. And who might you be"
"...Nyxra." The elf fixes Cale with an intent look.
"My camp is over the next ridge."
Laurelin curtsies nervously. "Greetings, esteemed one," she says. "I apologize for interrupting your meditations. We would be honored to join your camp."
She whispers to Khar, "I think she's what the elves call a brown one - because of the brown robes they customarily wear - a psionicist who has eschewed tribal allegiances to become a recluse and focus on study of the Way. Can't tell at a glance if she's a novice or a psionic master."
Crow glanced around, looking to see if it seemed like this camp was larger than it should have been.
Cale nods happily, relief clearly visible on his face at the implications of her statement "that's gracious of you"
The elf leads the party around the rock spire and down to what looks like the base of a large tor. A few large, flat slabs of sun-scorched stone are arranged in a circle around what appears to be some manner of fire pit. A pile of dead brush and wood sits in the centre of the pit.
Curiously, there's no sign of a tent or even a bedroll nearby. "You're a long way from the Trade Roads. Most people don't dare range this far out into the wastes. What brings you down this way?" Nyxra asks as she hops onto one of the stones and sits down.
"An argosy, originally," Khar blurts out not thinking discretion may be in order. "We have been on foot since. What about you?"
Nyxra arches an eyebrow. "An argosy? So either a merchant caravan or a merchant caravan, then."
"Me, I was hoping to get some peace and quiet. Turned out to be... lonelier than I anticipated."
Khar grunts, unsure of how to respond. Peace, quiet, and loneliness were mostly foreign concepts to him.