The sun is going to meet with the silhouettes of the Pale Mountains within the hour. It is still hot, as is typical throughout Katapesh, but it becomes more bearable. Once the sun is gone, it will get chill within short time. All who travel are wearing several layers of wide light clothes to protect from the heat at day and the cold at night.
There is a carawan travelling in direction of Kelmarane. It slowly moves towards the mountains and the sinking sun. In the lead are six mercenaries. They are a disreputable lot, thick with soiled armor and greasy hair. The three men and three women are teasing each other with puns an lame jokes to pass the time.
Behind comes a middle aged woman who keeps some pigs, goats and sheep in line. Six wagons follow. In between a woman in finer garb rides on a camel. Besides her a man wearing a plain white keffiyeh over the head, also on a camel. Besides them walks a man, that looks less civilised.
"So what you're saying is, that we need more swords for hire?" Almah inquires. She sits comfortable on the saddle of her sure footed camel. It rocks slowly from one side to the other, following the camel driver.
"Gnolls are strong. Mercenaries are big mouths. What do, when half of them die?" Dashki replies. "You find more of those?" the long, black haired man with a dark sun tan answers. As he does, he comes closer to Almah's camel and looks up to her.
"Keep your distance Dashki! Woah, that smell. It wouldn't hurt you to wash yourself every now and then." Almah calls out, protecting her nose with her perfumed hand.
Pondering the words, she turns to Garavel on the camel next to her. "What's your take on this?"
"He has a point. With the personal guards the pactmasters sent with you" Garavel starts, pointing to the four civilized, neatly clothed warriors surrounding them "And the mercenaries we hired, this caravan should be safe. But we don't know what exactly to expect in Kelmarane."
"We will set up camp outside, but then we'd need to assign someone to explore for us. Everyone we'd take from the people here will be missed in their current position."
After a few moments of silence he continues. "We should hire a crew to do this exploration for us. And they should be able to take care of any problems they find there."
"We just passed Bronze Hook. I could take a short detour to find such a group."
"You do that. We will wait for you at the Sultan's Claw. Please make haste. I feel better with you at my side." Almah tells.
"As you wish." Garavel tells, with a polite nod and steers his camel out of the caravan and back towards Bronze Hook.
While the Caravan continues towards the sunset, Garavel gallops towards the town. At the ford he is greeted by city guards. The main task of these city guards is collecting the toll for passing the river here.
After paying the coin he moves on straight to the run down inn at Main Street. Where all those meet that sell their life for coin. Escaped slaves who need a quick way out. Mercenaries looking for the next job. Smugglers, who look for a cover to move their ill-gotten goods out of town.
There are no heroes found here, and the only good cause anyone accepts is coin. Which luckily Garavel and his superior are not short on.
Garavel walks over to the counter. "A room for the night." he flips a coin on the counter.
"And get the word out, that I'm looking to hire. I need four to five able persons to do some scouting and deal with gnolls. I'll refresh myself in my room and come back down in an hour to meet those interested in the job."
He takes the key and goes upstairs.
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A Gurandi man sits close at a table close to the wall. On one hand he has a date, a fruit he enjoys very much. It is half eaten and the man takes his time with it. After a while he sips on the bear in front of him as he looks around. Despite the apparent peace his face projects, his mind is racing. He's never been that close to his birthplace and to find his mother's legacy. The trained eye, however, notices that all his movements leave the way of his hand to the handle of his sword clear.
After a while, he gets up and goes up to the counter and says "I overheard that the man who just went upstairs is hiring. I'm in need of work. I can do heavy lifting and heavy slashing. Will you tell him when he comes back?"
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After about an hour Garavel comes back down. He approaches the man behind the counter again. "I'll take the largest table. Put a mug of watered wine in front of anyone who comes to my table to apply for the job. Here are a few coins. Tell me if the money runs out."
Then he moes to the middle of the common room. "I'm Garavel, working in the service of the merchant princess Almah. And I seek to hire some able men and woman to support us on a mission going to the West and deal with some gnolls. We already have blades, so all talents that could come in handy for such a task are welcome to apply."
"You'd get free board and lodge and a pay of 20 silver a week. All who want to apply join me at the table over there."
Garavel moves to the large table, that has room for a dozen people and takes the seat at the middle of the long side with his back to the wall.
Tariq enters the Bronze Hook only to find a man is speaking out loud. He grasps something about an expedition to the West, and getting paid for it. Well, this seems a lucky strike - he's heading West anyways.
He walks to the man's table and stands there, waiting for permission to sit. "Um... hello..." As the man nods, he is about to sit, but finds out he's more comfortable standing. "I am Tariq, a member of the militant clergy of Sarenrae. I'm headed towards Kelmarane and heard your call, so I though it would be profitable for both of us to share paths." As he speaks, he thinks they might help him get news of Haleen.
"I can offer combat prowess and divine assistance" he goes on. "I did a lot of watch shifts back at the temple, so I'm used to that also, and a good spotter, some may say. Er..." he doubts, thinking of anything else he could add. "Well, I can help the cook, if you have one. Some say my recipe for spiced lamb is delicious."
Tariq doesn't feel confident enough, but he thinks he has to offer something the man cannot refuse. He seems a merchant, so he decides to strike where it hurts. "I'm also willing to accept a 25% cut on the 20 silver wage."
He stays quite while the man takes notes, but suddenly he thinks of something. "Er... may I ask... where is the mission happening, exactly? As I said, I was on my way to Kelmarane, and would like to know how far away from it I'll end up. If you don't mind telling, of course."
"We're headed for Kelmarane and it's surroundings. Which makes me wonder - what do you want there?" Garavel inquires.
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A very young man is sitting on table near the exit joking with some local peasant and entertaining them with the newest stories from the big city and some card tricks, hoping for some free dinner in exchange when Garavel arrives.
At frist he assume the disaster from Katapesh has caught up with him much faster than he thought. But when the man announces his request he relaxes visibly.
Free travel in my direction and protection from the gnolls. Just what I need. Sound almost to convenient. .
He rakes his brain for all the details he can remember from 3 years ago when he was last in this area with Terlan.
When Garavel comes down again and takes place at the central table, Manuun takes his leave from his admirers and steps up to the table.
Dear Captain I have heard that you have business in the gnoll lands west of here and are looking for some competent man to accompany you. Let me tall you that you have found just the right person. My name is Manuun and I used to travel through these lands with my uncle.
So if you need someone who knows the people and can speak the local languages I am very happy to take you up on your friendly offer. Also I can take care of myself when some trouble should come up unexpectedly so I will not burden you and your brave man in any way..
He confidently looks at Garavel to see, what the man has to say to this offer.
Yasmeena smiles from her place listening by the fire, plucking at the strings of her oud. She feels confident about her chances. When the stranger comes back downstairs, she is ready. She follows Garavel to his table and immediately seats herself as close as she can to him.
When he asks for applicants to speak, she hesitates briefly and then plunges in. Now is not the time for modesty, she thinks. I may have only one chance to impress him.
She leans closer to Garavel and lowers her voice slightly, drawing his attention. "Sir," she says without preamble, "many times I have worked as a scout, ever since I escaped from the band of gnolls who were my childhood captors. I know much about them, and the other people and creatures of the desert."
She makes a beckoning gesture with her left hand, and says in the harsh, guttural tongue of the gnolls, <"Look here!"> She indicates her shortbow and her armor, and draws her scimitar slowly and reverently, setting it on the table with a flourish. Finally, she plays a somber chord on her instrument. "They say music soothes the savage beast, but I find it makes shorter hours of travel, and time by the fire shine like the dawn. You will not regret hiring me, I promise."
Bowing slightly in place, she relinquishes Garavel's attention and looks around the table, waiting expectantly for the next person to speak.
"We're headed for Kelmarane and it's surroundings. Which makes me wonder - what do you want there?" Garavel inquires.
"Oh." Tariq's surprise is evident. What a lucky coincidence!
"I'm looking for someone. Her last known position is there. She's a friend and... I fear she might be in trouble." He hasn't got much hope, but she wildly tries anyway. "Haleen. Have you by chance heard of her?"
"No, I havent. Take a seat further down the table please." Garavel tells Tariq. On his parchment he writes Tariq - Pressing personal matters, cleric of Saerenrae, can cook.
"Next!"
Garavel listens to what Manuun has to tell about himself. "Thank you, I'll take a note. Next please. He write down Manuun, 'Best man for the job' in quotes.
For Yaseema he notes down Yasmeena - Scout, familiar with and hating gnolls, melee and ranged, probably entertaining. "Ok, impressive. Next please.
Manuun, 'Best man for the job'
Yasmeena - Scout, familiar with and hating gnolls, melee and ranged, probably entertaining.
Amidst the bustle of activity that erupts in the wake of Garavel’s announcement, a lean shadow unfolds herself from one of the tables nearer the walls and joins the circle of adventurers, exchanging a large book for a glass of wine which she sips, standing, as she listens and waits her turn.
An Avistani elf is a rare enough sight in Katapesh, let alone one in the light armour of an Alkenstar guardswoman, but one doesn’t need to be a connoisseur of insignia to recognize the exotic pistol at the woman’s hip. Of all the times not to have my stripes on, or the badge for the civic crown…
When her moment comes, the elf draws herself up even more precisely to attention, but does not salute. A glance reveals that she must have carefully removed the dust from her day’s road – with the deliberate exception of the tips of her boots, as if to suggest that she’s hardly as inflexible as she might first seem.
“Aithaloessa Cyana,” she introduces herself tartly. “I’m no true mage – yet – but I’ve a sharp mind and a sharp eye, and the warped gnolls of the Mana Wastes can testify to the skill an Alkenstar shieldmarshal needs. Beyond my aim, I’ve some skill in wilderness lore, and more in alchemy and engineering. If you want to take and hold Kelmarane, you’ll need someone who can do something with those ruins.”
“Sir,” she nods, in conclusion. If asked, she’ll happily show off her book: it’s the most basic beginnings of a grimoire, but anyone with any experience of spellcraft would be able to identify the confident annotations as the sign of a student on the very edge of the epiphany that marks the first time a mage is able to hold a spell.
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The Gurandi man, as he's sipping from his beer, notices other people beating him to the hiring merchant. He gets up and, remembering a lesson his father taught him, buys fresh ale from the counter and brings it to all at the table. He knew he wasn't known as a friendly type, and free beer always greased social encounters.
He says "My name is Antarah ibn Nasim'Rushdi Saad Khaled. I bring you ale and hopefully good fortune. I offer my services for the offered price. I have studied the ways of the arcane and bring forth my knowledge of magic and of the outside planes. This, of course, comes accompanied by some use of magic by myself, which I use in tandem with my skill with the sword."
Noticing that his speech came out a little bit too descriptive and abrupt, he says "I also noticed this person has this string instrument. We can make a duet with my flute, although some say I need some practice." Noticing that he isn't being very charming, Antarah decides to speak of what he was also good at. He says "I am a particularly good climber and with my magic I can double my size, which can be useful to lift heavy things, or climb even higher. Also, I can repair weapons, if I have the material."
Deciding he spoke enough, he offers Garavel a small bow of his head, before drinking his beer thinking I should keep my reasons to go to myself. My mother is my business.
Aithaloessa Cyana - military background, very special weaponry, strategic "Thank you, Miss Cyana." he tells with a smirk "Next plaese."
Garavel raises a brow as the innkeep finally comes through with the watered wine and in addition with the ale Antarah ordered.
Antarah - 'sociable', magic swordfighter, frontliner. "Thanks, next please"
Manuun, 'Best man for the job'
Yasmeena - Scout, familiar with and hating gnolls, melee and ranged, probably entertaining.
Aithaloessa Cyana - military background, very special weaponry, strategic
Antarah - 'sociable', magic swordfighter, frontliner.
Soraya appears at the top of the stairway only moments after Garavel makes his announcement. It is as if she had been waiting for his cue to come downstairs. In fact she had been. Her mother's connections are extensive and well tended. Not only do they sprawl across the church on three continents, they include friends and allies on the outside that Heba has cultivated over the years as well.
As it happens Aurora Steelbloom, a Venture-Captain of the Pathfinder Society is among them. It was Aurora who had sent word to Heba when she heard stirrings about plans for a caravan to Kelmarane. Soraya had been appointed to join it and was dispatched to Katapesh in all haste. With Aurora's information it was easy enough for Soraya to place herself on the caravan's route ahead of its arrival and wait for it to catch up.
Soraya descends the stairs and walks across the common room to Garavel's table. As she does, she becomes the focus of some attention. Her dress is fairly simple, a white linen tabard underneath a long blue linen jacket with loose sleeves. The fabric and embroidery of her clothing is clearly of exceptional quality. But it isn't her clothing that draws the gaze of people in the room. Soraya is beautiful in a way that cannot be summed up as an accounting of her various features, or the gracefulness of her movements. It goes beyond them, and is almost uncanny.
Soraya comes to a stop at the table and bows slightly to Garavel before taking a seat across from him. "Good Evening Master Garavel. My name is Soraya Hezami. It is a pleasure to meet you. I wish to petition you for a place in your caravan." After her greeting, Soraya sits and listens quietly to each applicant at the table as they make their case. As each person finishes, she offers them a friendly, reassuring smile.
When her time comes, Soraya makes her own case.
"I have been tasked by Heba Hezami, Matriarch of Sarenrae's temple in Gurat, with restoring and reconsecrating the monastery and temple of Sarenrae in Kelmarane. Since we both are bound for the same destination, it would be mutually advantageous for us to travel in each other's company."
"I am formally trained in both martial and healing disciplines, so I am able to protect your people from many kinds of hazards. I have training in record keeping and logistics from my experience assisting in the day to day provisioning and upkeep of the temple in Gurat. Also, if you have an oud player with you", Soraya gestures toward Yasmeena, "I am a dancer."
"As for myself, I would rather travel in good company than without it."
Yasmeena smiles charmingly at Antarah’s and Soraya’s acknowledgement of her instrument and plays a light, spritely motif as for a dance. Hidden in the melody is the first notes of a well-known hymn to Sarenrae, which she performs with a smirk and a wink.
"Thank you."
Soraya Hezami, Personal matters, knowledgeable, healer?, blade fighter. Garavel notes down. He reacts suspiciously little to the head turning beauty.
"Anyone else?" Garavel asks, looking around if he missed someone.
Soraya is only slightly comforted that Garavel's lack of affect is a constant regardless of the person he's engaged with. A lack of any response is still unsettling.
Maybe she would be less concerned if so much weren't at stake and she was feeling more comfortable, but with circumstances as they are, she is feeling jangly with nerves. She simply must be allowed to join the caravan.
I simply cannot fail. There is no way I can just go back home without even reaching Kelmarane. The embarrassment of that kind of failure would be unbearable.
Her only alternative to going with the caravan would be making the journey alone. Soraya certainly doesn't want to do that, but there would be no other choice.
To make things worse, Soraya is not handling the heat well. Gurat is high in the Zho mountains and very temperate. She hasn't adjusted to the baking lowlands yet, so she is sweating mightily. To others this only makes her look better (of course.) The sweat is like a spritz of moisture on her skin, which gives her bronze complexion a healthy glow. But Soraya actually feels wilted and tireder than she should.
She hopes she receives a decision from Garavel soon, but she also doesn't want to know.
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Manuun decides to be a bit more open with Garavel and uses the distraction yasmeena provides to step near Garavel once more.
" I assume a merchant princess is not travveling through the Brazen Hills to fight some Gnolls. And you mentioned that you have already a decent company of guards, but still you are here looking for goons for hire with some peculiar skills. I assume you are on a special mission."
Manuun checks that Yasmeena is still playing and continues: "Of course I don't know what this mission is, but let me just tell you that I spent the last few years with my uncle searching this hills for things, which were not supposed to be found. I am actually pretty good at finding things and beating the defensive measure protecting these things."
Then he smiles one last time at Garavel and joins the others.
Tariq is too distracted by Yasmeena to notice anything peculiar on Garavel - apart from his strange protrusion on the head, which he had noticed before.
He also recognises the song, and hums a bit following where Yasmeena left it. He suddenly stops, red as an apple and smiling, when he realises he's not alone.
Having made her case, Aithaloessa makes room for anyone else who wants to put themselves forward. She settles in again with her reading to one side: not unfriendly, but deliberately not prying into others' affairs in such a rough-and-tumble place. At least the air is clearer here than back home, and magic is possible.
She tries not to be jealous of those adventurers who've suggested an easier acquaintance with the art. And if she just happens to keep her ears open for interesting threads of conversation, well, surely that would be alright? Unfortunately, there are a few too many going on at once for her to keep track of them all and do something more than just stare at her page.
Yasmeena avoids staring at Garavel, though she is curious about the lump on his head. Not wishing to monopolize the captain's attention, she ends her impromptu song with a little flourish and smiles at the camaraderie that she feels around the table. She thanks the host in her quiet voice but leaves the drink where he places it before her.
"Gold? Going against gnolls? Count me interested!" a tanned man of wavy black hair clad in a scale mail takes sit in the table offering a wide smile to those around. The man is definitely not a pretty face, with scars that speak of more than one fight, but there is something fearsome on his ways and still when he talks he sounds as someone educated who knows how to behave "I have a grudge against those ones since I was a child. I am Ohrmizd, explorer and emissary, and not likely to run away crying the first time the gnolls set an ambush on us" the stout man pads the scimitar hanging from his belt.
"If you are going to Kelmarane you will need someone who knows the area. I used to travel these lands with my parents in the trade caravans. And you are going to need someone able to tell friend from foe. I can help there, I have been mentored by a cleric of Sarenrae and you will find my training not only in healing, but in infiltration and discerning lies to come of use" Ohrmizd takes then the cup of wine and takes a long sip looking at it with surprise "Impressive. Thanks for this"
"Perhaps you heard rumors about the exploration of an ancient shrine last year near Solku. Well, that was me and my mentor. We recovered an ancient text book there and made good cash from it" Ohrmizd takes a long look at Garavel trying to judge what kind of man he has in front "I have to say I am impressed by the way you conceal your emotions. But you should know I am used to work with others and survive in ancient ruins. Dangerous places those. You need someone observant to detail and able to organize people around"
The man makes a pause to let Garavel pose questions or take his notes then he asks "Will we get a share of whatever treasures and loot we find in our way?"
Concealed below Ohrmizd armor you spot the holy symbol of Sarenrae.
Good at finding things. Garavel adds to his notes about Manuun.
Ohrmizd - Healing, infiltration, discerning lies, tomb raider
"There are a lot of explorations ongoing all over Katapesh. Garavel replies. "Our interests lie not in such trifles. If you find by chance something of worth on a gnoll it's your's to keep. But I don't expect there is much to find."
Manuun, 'Best man for the job', good at finding things.
Yasmeena - Scout, familiar with and hating gnolls, melee and ranged, probably entertaining.
Aithaloessa Cyana - military background, very special weaponry, strategic
Antarah - 'sociable', magic swordfighter, frontliner.
Soraya Hezami - Personal matters, knowledgeable, healer?, blade fighter.
Ohrmizd - Healing, infiltration, discerning lies, tomb raider
Tariq stays silent while the rest talk to Garavel and expose their skills. From what he can see and hear, these folks are quite well prepared for the job. Tariq is not sure how many of them Garavel is willing to take with him, but no doubt he must be ranked among the last.
"Well" he thinks, "if he rejects me, I'll try cutting of more from my wages. After all, I wasn't planning on earning money."
A tall dark clothed elven man steps out from the shadows. ”I see you Garavel, I’m known as Tahlumilali Auvreaana. I’m a scout and I’m useful in a fight though I prefer to strike first than stand up and trade blows. Oh you can call me Tahl if you wish I hear some humans get twisted up by to many syllables.”
You see the man’s lips twitch up into a smile at the last part. ”And this lovely woman is my wife and partner.” He says and steps to the side revealing a short dark haired elven woman. I wonder what’s up with this one... unemotional...is one way to put it may as well be s as golem.
She ducks her head and playfully bumps her shoulder into her husband at his introduction. ”Hello I’m Lofnaiali I’m skilled in using the curve blade I carry and I’m also able to cast a few simple spells to help out we are also both well versed in the activities of the gnoll we may encounter.”
The small woman’s words take a sharp turn as she mentions gnoll and her husband's hand lays comfortingly on her shoulder pulling her close.
”This one has less emotions than me and I died years ago.” Naia quips in her mind bringing a soft smile to her lips.
A tall, bald and broad shouldered man walks up to where Garavel is sitting. While not actually ugly he was far from good looking. The big, soft smile that extended to his eyes did make up for quite a bit of it though.
He is dressed in armor made of strips of what looks like horn and he carries a shield on his back and a scimitar on his hip.
He waits for the couple in front of him to finish there speech before he moves in. "By all the attention you are getting I can assume you are Garavel?" His voice is much friendlier and richer than one would expect from someone looking like he does.
"If you are looking for some heavy lifters out there to do your job, I am your man. If needed I'm both a smooth talker and a smooth walker, meaning I make very little noise when it's needed. I'm also no slouch when it comes to subduing and capturing people. I just handed in my last catch to the guards when I heard your call for aid."
Then the friendly grin turns into a bare teethed grin, "Oh, and I have some nifty tricks up my sleeve." He lays his right hand on the table which rapidly gets encrusted with stone until it looks like it's carved from basalt, each finger filed to a nasty point.
Ohrmizd nods energetically at Garavel's response "Good. That sounds fair Sir" he then stretches his arms while making room for the two new elves to sit around.
The man listens carefully to the couple while giving one more sip to the wine "Elves are a rare spot in Katapesh. Tahalomali-Tahlmol-Talo... ok Tahl and Lofna, sorry for my horrible elven pronunciation... are you coming perhaps from Alkenstar like Althaloessa? Or maybe from farther away?" the man did not want to press the elves, they seemed running away from someone, or something, but Ohrmizd liked to know the people he might work with.
Once Ibhrim finishes his presentation Ohrmizd speaks up once again to ask Garavel "Would you be our direct superior or will we have to respond in front of someone else? Also, I am all good to get rid of some gnolls, they are repentless souls I fear, but it would be great if you could hand some more light on your mission's goals. I am not picky, but I do not want to find myself making room for a guild of rascals or a cult of disease worshipers"
Soraya returns Yasmeena's smile with a small one of her own. She recognizes the tune Yasmeena is riffing on of course.
Although the young aasimar woman air was very self-possessed when she was speaking to Garavel, her interaction with Yasmeena is more tentative, perhaps a bit shy. Soraya doesn't maintain her eye contact with the other woman except briefly, although she continues to smile, almost privately, as she looks down at her hands.
Aithaloessa looks up from her reading as the conversation grows livelier. Some enthusiastic voice has mentioned gold , and that, in its contrast with the more ordinary material components she’s struggling to understand, catches her attention. Sand and stone, even lead. There’s an alchemy in this too, Aith, and you can figure it out, even if it is of more fleeting things. Word, and gesture, and sense…
Another somewhat wild-looking fellow punctuates his point with a very interesting demonstration, his hand changing into something alarming. Oh, I like that. Some sort of polymorph trick? And she’s definitely heard another couple of elven voices, as the first voice reminds her, apologizing for its own pronunciation.
Spotting Lofnaiali and Tahlumilali, she greets them in their shared mother tongue, “<Well met. It’s lovely to meet other Fair Ones, especially so far from our own lands.>” As a Forlorn elf from as decidedly unelven a place as Alkenstar, and of Kyoni extraction to boot, she’s not as familiar with her southern cousins as she ought to be, and can’t quite pin this pair down as Mualijae or, more narrowly, Vourinoi, perhaps? by either their looks or their accents, and she feels all the more out of place for it. That reminds her to make sure her glance flickers to include Yasmeena in her greeting: the bard's features don’t strike her as entirely elvish, but Aithaloessa wouldn’t want simply to leave her out because of that. The world is a cruel enough place as it is.
“I’d guess we grew up in different deserts,” she acknowledges with a friendly smile, switching to Common for Ohrmizd’s benefit, and offering only a gentle correction to his pronunciation. She sees no reason to worry about what he's hiding for his own reasons, for now. “My mother only came south just before I was born. You can call me Aith, for short.”
She wonders what Garavel’s response to Ohrmizd’s question will be, what he’ll be willing or able to tell about the “merchant princess” he represents.
"A couple, interesting." Garavel comments.
Tahlumilali Auvreaanea - Scout, able withbow
Lofnaiali Auvrea-anea - Blade fighter with magic
"I assume it's both of you, or none?" he inquires.
Stoneclaw - Stealthy muscle
"Thank you."
As Ohrmizd brings up an interesting topic Garavel gives a short summary of the mission goal. "We are going to reestablish the market in Kelmarane. You'll answer to Princess Almah - I'm her advisor, and I answer to the Pact Masters."
"I guess that were all applicants. Enjoy the wine, and the beer, I'll come back to you with my decision soon." Garavel turns to his list to scribble additional notes.
Tariq - Pressing personal matters, cleric of Saerenrae, can cook.
Manuun, 'Best man for the job', good at finding things.
Yasmeena - Scout, familiar with and hating gnolls, melee and ranged, probably entertaining.
Aithaloessa Cyana - military background, very special weaponry, strategic
Antarah - 'sociable', magic swordfighter, frontliner.
Soraya Hezami - Personal matters, knowledgeable, healer?, blade fighter.
Ohrmizd - Healing, infiltration, discerning lies, tomb raider
Tahlumilali Auvreaanea - Scout, able withbow
Lofnaiali Auvrea-anea - Blade fighter with magic
Stoneclaw - Stealthy muscle
Garavel stands and clears his throat. "I would like to put all of you through an internship, to see if you can back up your claims. But there is no time for that. I'll leave tomorrow at dawn, an hour before the sun rises. I thank you all for your application, but I have use only for five of you."
"I'll take along Tariq, Yasmeena, Aithaloessa Cyana, Antarah and the Stoneclaw guy. Enjoy the wine as long as it's coming. It is paid for. See you tomorrow."
Garavel drinks up his mug of wine and leaves. He goes upstairs to his room.
"Hum. Thank you" is all that Tariq has time to say before Garavel leaves.
When they're left alone, our hero can cut the silence for a few seconds. Surely someone is going to say something, this seems a noisy lot, but meanwhile he feels a bit uncomfortable. "So. Here we are, right?" he says, in a pathetic attempt to break the ice.
The innkeep sends the maid to put another keg of watered wine on the table.
"Here is the rest of the wine. Everything beyond that will cost you." Isabella tells.
"Ah... thank you." Before the maiden leaves, Tariq rises his finger as if asking his turn to speak, addressing her. "Eh... sorry... is there a trade post here or something? There are some wares I might have to acquire..."
Actually, he feels quite silly. He hasn't got proper information about the place he's about to go, hasn't really checked that he has all that he might need, and hasn't bothered to find out whether someone else was coming - he found this Garavel guy just by pure chance. Luck has been smiling on him for now, since he's not going to be alone, but that doesn't mean he's going to be lucky always. "Curse my hurried arse... Haleen sould be in danger, yeah, but what good will I do if I die alone in the desert?"
"Up and down the street, in every other house you'd find a vendor." Isabella tells before leaving for another table where drinks are in short supply.
The Pactmasters. Too much to hope otherwise, but still. Fine. Take the job, do it better and kinder than they would, and keep going. Aithaloessa doesn’t trust the masked rulers that keep Katapesh as their mercantile playground, but there’s nothing for it. Her experience of cities as she’s made her way north through Garund has brought home how small one person really is.
As Garavel quickly makes his decision, Aithaloessa rises, raising her glass in acknowledgement and in a valedictory gesture to those who won’t be joining them, especially the other elven warriors. A shame, but perhaps our paths will cross again in future.
“Here we are indeed,” she answers Tariq dryly, as the table rearranges itself in the wake of Garavel’s pronouncement and more wine arrives.
“Did you say were looking for someone?” she asks the homely fellow, choosing her words carefully to avoid drawing attention to his odd uncertainty about what sort of town Bronze Hook is. Something serious, if he’s in that much of a rush.
Aithaloessa takes the opportunity of taking a look at her other new colleagues too.
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Antarah tries unsuccessfully to hide that he is relieved to be selected to the incursion into Kelmarane. He feels that this is his destiny. As the holy man asks about vendors, the large man has a thought and shares it. He says "We should consider buying one or two camels packed with water and supplies. Venturing into the desert is no easy feat, especially with so many heads."
Then, he says "Unless, of course, Garavel can guarantee our supplies." He wishes to ask at what time they are to leave as well, but stays quiet so as not to sound too inquisitive, as he found this to annoy other people.
"Good. That saves me the trouble of going to Kelmarane on my own. Next bounty is supposed to be there and I am to secure it's safety." Ibhrim smiles. Stoneclaw, that was a marketable nickname.
When they then get offered the wine he shakes his head, "I must politely refuse. I don't partake of alcohol, On the other hand, if you have some Karazhica I'd be much obliged. Kahve would also do do if you don't carry anything quite that exotic."
At the mention of camels he shakes his head. "I don't have much money to spare. Besides, aren't we to travel with some princess? I'd be damned if they don't carry plenty of supplies. And besides, wouldn't a mule do just fine? If you can find one descended from the local wild donkey's it would probably do better than a camel, unless we're trekking through nothing but sand for weeks."
"If you have the gold, we have the Karazhica." Isabella tells. She waits - obviously someone working for 20 silver a week has to pay up front when it comes to such noble beverages.