What are some cactus to dexterous guy with perfect body control like Antarah. If it weren't for that piece o fgoat s+#~. Antarah slips and falls right into those cactus.
It's a field of opuntia - for those snowledgeable about such things. Large round fleshy leafs with many thorns make up those plants. And when one falls into it, they break off and stick to the person. Which is very painful.
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"Ugh", Antarah exclaims pushing back a yelp. He uses his scimitar to carefully clear himself of any pointy leaves that stuck on him before continuing on towards the crying goat. What am I going to do with it once I get there?, he asks himself and avoids thinking about it further. However, he decides to cut any appearingly hurtful plants on his way to the animal. He realizes this might scare it further, but he quickly decides that avoiding to get hurt is more important than that animal's feelings right now.
"There must be some of these pugwampi in that patch, Antarah! Do you see anything in there around the goat?"
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Answering Yasmeena, Antarah says "All I see is cactus!"
Just then, Antarah realizes that the cactuses extend for a large area. He doubles back and tries to find another way to the goat. Just how did the goat get there?, he asks himself. "Maybe he ventured through the cactuses trying to run away from something. I'll try to find some other way through", he says to the others. While walking, trying to find another way, Antarah keeps his butterfly lights fluttering to every side of himself, so as to not be surprised. He keeps his scimitar high, as if he foresees a monster coming at him.
The cactus field seems to go all the way to Osirion. Well, probably not, but far enough, that it makes no sense to walk around it.
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Antarah looks north, then south, then sheathes his scimitar and places his hands on his hips and says "Well, unless pugwombat's are particularly good at navigating through cactus, I don't think there are any here. We might as well shoot the goat for the sake of mercy." He clearly gave up trying. He looks at the others to see how they'll take his stance.
Yasmeena frowns. "Seems senseless to shoot the innocent goat," she says with a toss of her head. "They must be in there somewhere. Any way we can draw them out? I doubt these plants would burn very well and the smoke would probably kill the poor animal."
It is a very good thing that Dashki and the others are around, as Aithaloessa helplessly proves just how hopeless a citified guard can be once she's removed from the comfort of her own station and its labs and such.
She stops short with the others while Antarah presses on ahead into the cactus field, remembering their guide's words and sure she can't likely match the mage's grace - at least for the first bit, until he slips, just in time for...
"Opuntia," she observes irrelevantly , her idiosyncratic training finally coming through, if not with anything more useful than a belated botanical identification.
She checks for more tracks, for where the goat must have been dragged in, or for signs of lurking unlucky dog-faces.
Aithaloessa's mother, a ranger, must be turning in her grave. The guardswoman's limited instincts for the natural world failing her, Aith concentrates on what she's sure she can know.
"Let's do this logically," she murmurs to herself.
Tariq tries to think of a proper solution, but he's clearly not a wilderness guy. Not useless, but not expert enough to solve this. "Only thing I can think of is we all cut down cacti together, so we avoid creating an alley into where one would sting himself to death." Like scythes over a wheat field, only with cacti.
Ibhrim stands behind the others. When Antarah suggests shooting the goat he sighs and then nods, as if making up his mind.
"Coming through!" As he speaks Ibhrim moves forward among his companions. As he moves the others can see the same stone-like plating that covers his clawed hands cover all the rest of his bare skin, including his face, which appears to be covered by a mask that makes it look like he has two mandibles. The entire transformation, coating him in something that looks like black basalt makes him look vaguely like a humanoid scorpion, just without the tail and pincers.
When he talk he sounds just the same as before, "You guy keep an eye on the Pugwampi things, I'll get the goat."
He then moves through the cactus field towards the goat without paying attention to the needles.
It is not easy to move through the cactus, but Ibhrim simply tramples the plants down. Thick leaves are send flying as he stomps through the field. Once he navigated through those Ibhrim stands on a thin strip of open land at the edge of a 15-foot-wide ravine. A casual glance down the edge reveals a huge multi-armed, wickedly barbed cactus dominating the ground 10 feet below the ledge, almost directly below where the sad little goat Rombard has been lazily tied to a scrub bush. Rombard is covered with cactus quills and doesn't look well. Seeing the monstrous scorpion like insect, the goat pulls even harder on his rope and would jump down to his death if he could.
Looking back, you spot an ugly creature hiding behind a rock about halfway through the cactus. It looks like a shaved chihuahua with scabies and bad teeth. It holds a dagger and has a bow on its back.
Ibhrim tries to make calming motions as he stands in front of the goat, "It's all right. I'm here to get you to safety. It's all right."
As he speaks he looks back to see the creature. Before moving back he turns to the goat one more time and whispers, "Hold still, we'll get you out soon. First we get rid of your captor." With that he strolls back to where he saw the creature.
"Found it!" Ibhrim yells while moving back to the creature.
The ugly dog takes the bow and shoots at Ibhrim.
Between the dark and the cover provided by the cactus and the rock, the other have a hard time making out where that pugwampi is.
This time Antarah manages to keep his elegant agility and move to a point in the field where he can see the ugly critter.
"Magically works too," Aithaloessa readily concedes as Ibhrim changes and ploughs through the thorny field. When he announces he's found their quarry too, she hurries along in his and Antarah's wake.
Seeing him react to what must be a missile of some sort launched through the gathering darkness, as soon as she gets close enough to spot the pugwampi, she nocks and whips off an arrow.
Aithaloessa makes it into the field of painful spikes avoiding contact with the plants. But her arrow is off.
Yasmeena raises an eyebrow. "That's a useful skill!" she smirks. She follows the others into the cactus field, trying to keep to the path Ibhrim helpfully made.
From a spot next to Aith that she hopes is outside of the little creature's aura, she also fires an arrow.
Jasmeena also sends an arrow into a cactus.
Ibhrim closes in on the Pugwampi. As he sees the arrows keep missing he instead decides to try and take hold of the little mongrel.
Tariq is a bit undecided. He should go and help his companions fight the pugwampi, though he's not sure he's stepping into a trap - his big armor not letting him maneuver.
Although some others have charged into combat as well, this pugwampi might not be alone. He takes the risk and tries to graciously evade the stings, probably looking like a drunk duck instead.
Ibhrim wades through the cactus like it's nothing and grabs the pugwampi. The critter starts cursing a lot, but in a strange language.
Tariq on the other hand used the opportunity to stumble and sit down in the thorny plants .
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Antarah sighs in relief. He says "Well we got him. Do any of you understand him? We should ask how many of them are there around here. I'm really not fond of chasing these little devils into this cactus field." Rombard's cries is coming somewhat annoying to him and as he assumes the others would communicate with the pugwampi, he tries to approach Rombard saying his name smoothly and attempting to calm him down.
Unfortunately, what Antarah feels like is a soothing motion is actually a death threat in goat language.
Aithaloessa relaxes just a little, keeping an eye out for any more pugwampis as the bizarre tableau of the captive monster and the panicked beast unfolds. Diminutive barbarians and named livestock. That sort of evening, then?
She sighs in response to Antarah's question. "I'm afraid not. I've run into a few gnolls in my time, but not enough to pick up the language."
She glares at the critter in Ibhrim's arms, and automatically recites a list of charges, as if to indicate the gravity of the situation, though someone will need to translate if the implied threat could encourage compliance. "Indeterminate counts of mischief, and at least one each of chattel rustling, criminal negligence leading to death, and attempted, minimally, manslaughter with intent. I'm no circuit judge, but I don't think anyone would complain if we lobbed that thing into the ravine."
"Pugwampi tell this guy son of father and donkey" Dashki starts translating the pugwampi.
As Ibhrim holds the critter, he notices slightly burned harrow cards on the ground.
The goat tries more than ever to throw himself down the cliff, only held by the rope and the bush it is lazily tied too.
Ibhrim laughs heartily when Dashki translates the Pugwampi's words. "He should be glad it's me here and not my mother. He'd be worse of then. On a related note, do we bring this critter in dead or alive? If he's dead I think that would help calm the goat down." With his claws out Ibhrim is ready to permanently silence the creature.
Yasmeena sighs and approaches once Ibhrim captures the little creature. She nods in answer to Antarah's question, and roughly translates Aith's intimidating words into the gnoll tongue. "<You had better start talking if you don't want this one to kill you. She says you have done too many crimes to let you live. I suggest you make yourself useful to her. Where is your tribe?>"
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Trusting the pugwampi doesn't understand the Common tongue, Anatarah is glad to have something to do except try to calm down the goat and says "We'd better keep it alive, as it can testify if it and its friends are guilty of causing the fire in the wagon."
He steps away from Rombard and says "Will someone deal with the goat? A few cries more, and I'm going to start playing tug of war with it out of the cactus field." He sounds more than annoyed.
"I think guilt has been proven already. There are singed Harrow cards here. Besides that, do we want to risk the misfortune this guy brings starting another fire?" Ibhrim squeezes a little tighter at the last sentence.
"And please keep the goat in one piece. I think the two drivers would be very grateful if we brought it back alive."
With his backside still resented, Tariq exposes his thoughts. "These bugs really invoke bad luck, I can tell first hand." He looks at the creature through the corner of his eye. "So, the hypothesis that the fortune teller just stumbled on his own crystal ball and a candle dropped and started the fire is starting to become quite plausible."
Other than that, he comments on the viability of bringing the pugwampi alive. "Do dead pugwampis still bring bad luck, Dashki?"
Aithaloessa is sure that this far out in the middle of nowhere frontier law applies, but there’s a limit to just how vociferously she’ll call for blood, no matter how merciful an execution she could, theoretically provide. And then, speaking of sanguine matters, there’s still the bloody goat.
Even in the falling darkness, her expression says I’m not that sort of elf clear as day, but if only in the interests of getting the damn beast to stop its bleating, she does her best.
Antarah says "I would find it very interesting to find out how it or they started the fire and got away without being seen, while managing to prevent the fortune teller to get out of his wagon."
For what it's worth, she starts removing cactus quills from Fine! Rombard, occasionally trying for a soothing sound or two. She is obviously much more interested in metaphysical matters, and remarks, "I'm only a dilettante, but Tariq's right, I think. However they do it exactly (Carathis might have something to say about it, but I'm not there yet), part of the unluck might be overlooking the nasty little things before one takes extra precaution, and then, if one has a bad fall..."
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Antarah starts to see what the others mean, with both himself and Tariq falling comically on the cactuses. However, more questions arise to him, who enjoys to theoretical thinking. He says, more directed at Tariq and Aithaloessa than the others, "You bring forth interesting questions. But I'm afraid they awoke more questions in me. Do they incur bad luck on themselves or even each other? How far does their misfortune reach? I'm sure we weren't affected by any of it by the caravan. I wonder if they can be befriended, I can think of a few ways that being friends with them can be... helpful... Does their existence imply the existence of another creature that bestows good fortune?" Antarah's eyes shine with the theoretical questions.
The goat is not calmed by the attempts so far and plucking the spikes makes it only worse.
The pugwampi tries it's luck biting Ibhrim, but fails at his now extra thick skin - or is it an exosceleton?
Yasmeena notices the trouble Antarah is having with the goat, and frowns. "The creatures' curse is likely affecting everything we do here in this field. It does not seem to be responding to my words, so I think we should kill it before we try anything else. Perhaps it is the only one here? That may improve our chances of success in our other tasks."
“Oh, for a good library right now,” Aithaloessa agrees, eyeing the distance to the edge of the field of cacti. “And if they have counterparts that bring good fortune, whoever their neighbours are must really be happy.”
Even as the elf speaks, though, Yasmeena’s words have sunk in, and she swaps out her bow for her pistol, which she loads quickly and silently.
“Hold it down,” she tells Ibhrim, softly. She takes a moment to pronounce sentence, for what it’s worth, then tries to execute the pugwampi as cleanly as she can.
As they finally agree to kill it Ibhrim nods and proceeds to squeeze even harder, his claws piercing flesh.
Ighrim decides to give the pugwampi a quick sqeeze instead of holding the critter, which is only slightly larger than his hand, for Aithaloessa to shoot with that strange pipe with a wooden handle. With another turn and pull on the head the pugwampi is dead.
The goat is beyond calming. It bleaks, and tucks on the rope.
"Or we could just do that," Aithaloessa says, as Ibhrim takes care of the problem for her. The relief in her tone suggests that she isn't quite as cold as she may have wanted to sound.
"Oh, shush," she adds irritably, sparing the goat a second glance, before it occurs to her that it would be her luck this evening that the animal notices something else wrong before she does.
This does not prevent her from further asking, as she looks around for signs of anything amiss, "I don't suppose any- magically-gifted -body's got an enchantment handy for soothing troubled beasts?"
Yasmeena considers, and slips her oud off of her shoulder. She begins playing a soft, soothing melody designed to capture the beast's attention.
When Yasmeena starts playing Ibhrim smiles, "I'll get out of here with this dead thing. I don't think the goat likes it nor does it like me in my current form." He then looks directly at Tariq "You are one of the Dawnflower's people, right? Could you perhaps patch up it's wounds? That should probably calm it down and warm it up to you."
He then proceeded to walk away the same way he came in. Once he was clear of the cacti the stony exoskeleton melted away into his normal skin.
When asked about healing the goat, Tariq takes a hand to his chin, thinking - and trying to wipe away the image of the poor critter being crushed to death.
"I guess I could do that, but... that would leave us in a dire situation if some more of these appear" he says, waving his hand towards the pugwampi, "or any other hostile thing appears, actually, since I would be left with no more interventions until I pray in the morning." HE still has a small remain of doubt, since obviously the poor goat seems to be suffering, but he wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to the group just because he healed the goat. Nodding, if only to himself and to help make his own mind, he decides this will have to wait until they reach the safety of the encampment.
"I could try to treat its wounds, though, if someone helps me sooth its mood, even at a very basic level - I have no proper tools here with me." He hopes he can at least wrap the wound, and someone might have some wine, or even beer, to clean it.
The goat listens fascinated to the music and follows Yasmeena like the rats the Pied Piper.
With nothing else to do here the group walks back the shot distance of about 100 yards to the camp.