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This is the gameplay thread for Dark Tower.
You are hired by a merchant named Mumchandar to help guard a caravan west to the Holy Cities. He will pay 1 gp/day each. Most of you are on pilgrimage to the Holy Cities and there are no other caravans heading that direction. None have for a long time. He tells you to report to Moram Infidel Bane, but warns you he will not speak with you directly.
Welcome to an epic journey through the scorching sands of the desert! Prepare to embark on an adventure filled with breathtaking landscapes, challenging terrain, and thrilling discoveries. The desert may seem inhospitable at first, but it is a land rich in history, culture, and beauty. With your spirit of adventure and a few supplies, you will cross dunes and valleys, marvel at towering sandstone formations, and encounter the fascinating flora and fauna that call the desert home. Get ready to embark on a journey unlike any other, where the heat of the sun and the cool night sky will become your constant companions. Are you ready to explore the uncharted territories of the desert? Let's go!
Shifting his plain corinthian helmet from his left hand to his right, Ratel, tugged on the breastplate of his armor in the heat. The armor was old and magical and had saved his life many times. But it was still bloody well hot. Pausing, he chastized himself for cursing, even in thought. The thoughts lead to the tongue and the tongue leads to all sorts of troubles. Or as the saying goes. Smiling at himself, Ratel could remember few instances where his tongue got him in trouble, but wasn't able to get him out. Refocusing his attention on the Merchant, a well to do fellow, at least if his girth were to be believe, had hired the bunch of them to keep him safe. Most were probably like himself, headed to the Holy Cities anyway, so why not get paid.
Ratel looked around at the group. He recognized the 'scales and Flame' of his own god on a plain looking bearded fellow. He also recognized a stylized falcon on the dwarf and a bespectacled woman. Turning he looked at the rest of the motley bunch, relieved with the idea that few would take up the pilgrimage, who hadn't prepared for it.
As the merchant told them to report to Moram, Ratel nodded, running his long fingers through his cropped black hair. As the group turns and heads the direction indicated, Ratel began to consider things he'd need to know before they left. How many days the journey would take, if they were to supply their own food, if they would be able to hunt on the way.
As they neared the caravan, Ratel asks one of the camel drivers teamsters, "pardon sahib, where might we find Moram Infidel Bane?"
There are no camels. sorry. The caravan consists of 4 heavy wagons drawn by 4 heavy draft horses each (total 16).
Haltashaar tells you "My master is busy getting the caravan ready, but I can help you with your assignments. Do you have horses?"
Nodding to the teamster, "I have an animal available, what would you like for me to do?" He pauses for a moment, "May I assume our employer will provide food stuffs and water for the journey, or should I make other arrangements?"
As the merciless sun beat down Jim was glad of his hat, he'd won it playing dice against against an army major some years back and he regarded it as a talisman of good luck. He'd won and lost several talismans of good luck over the years but his entirely non-magical hat was the one he truly care for.
As they went to find this Moram Infidel, Bane Jim glanced at his companions. Some of them clearly had combat experience, but could they be relied upon? Time would tell.
When the one called Ratel spoke to the caravan teamster. Jim replied "Yes I also have a horse." Jim's hoarse was a mare he called Nancy. She was a sweet tempered hoarse and he felt bad about taking her into the desert, the only thing certain in her future was hardship.
With what he felt was a winning smile, Jim asked, "Is there a market around here? I would buy some salt and dates for the journey. Perhaps a little extra jerky and some grain for the hoarse."
Iz-dubar made a short prayer for safety and enlightenment as the group began its search for this Moram Infidel Bane. He shouldn’t be to hard to find, Iz-dubar thought as he began to work work his way among the wagons.
He is startled as the armored warrior, called Ratel, asked one of the teamsters for Master Bane. He responded to Haltashaar‘s inquiry with a short nod, ”Yes good master, we possess beasts for transport. Iz-dubar thanks you one-thousand times good master.”
"Yes, the caravan master provides guards and their mounts with all sustenance that will needed for the journey. There is a market on Isis street with the finest dates in Khemet. Some of the most popular date varieties in the region include Deglet Noor, Medjool, and Khalas."
He hands the three of you a light lance.
"چرا ارباب کاروان این کفار
را اجیر کرد؟"
Jim was delighted, "Medjool? Oooh! Well now that is excellent news, I shall be right back. Indeed a thousand thank-yous as my, er, college says!"
Whistling a jaunty tune he set off at once to find Isis street where no doubt he'd get fleeced buying dates, but it would be worth it, even if everyone was staring at him like they'd never seen a foreigner before.
Watching as the man in the odd hat and the dwarf head towards the bizaar, Ratel reaches out accepting the lance, asking Haltashaar, "What is my assignment Sahib?"
After orders are given he turns towards the Human warpriest, who I dentified himself as Iz-dubar. Touching his own chest he gives a slight bow, "Greetings Iz-dubar, I am Ratel Dier humble servant of 'he who shines upon us with justice.'" He gestures towards the warpriests holy symbol, "May I ask what order you are from?"
Two new wagons are procured and filled with provisions for the journey.
Drovers are hired to drive them who double as cooks, starting at 5 AM cooking flat bread.
"You will take turns riding as guards on the food wagons, the rest will serve as outriders."
With provisions and guards, the caravan moves out at 6 AM until 10. Tents will to up to provide shade until 3 PM when the journey continues until 7 PM. This is to avoid not only the hottest part of the day, but the hazards of the sun. Unprotected individuals out from 10 AM to 3 PM will have to make daily saves vs sun burn and heat stroke. Clerics and those else that can create water will be asked to create daily. The caravan with the party will need around 200+ gallons a day. Better keep your clerics safe and healthy. Vashalla acts as the Dervishes low level cleric.
daiy high temp 95+ 108F°
daiy low temp 108 –(25+ 66F°
daily wind speed
daily chance of storm
Some hours and more than a few gold pieces later, Jim had obtained a healthy supply of medjool dates and salt along with some pistachios the vendor had insisted where the best this side of heaven. Jim wasn't entirely convinced about that, frankly he'd been fleeced but he didn't really care. The city and the culture was so different from the monotony back home, he was loving it. Still whistling a jaunty tune he sauntered back to the caravan, leading his hoarse Nancy. There wasn't anything to do but wait until the caravan set out but that was ok.
He inspected the lance he'd been given and eyed it dubiously, glancing at some of the other newly guards he asked, "Any of you any good with one of these? I suppose it could be used in a pinch..."
The guard points to a group of mounted guards that are formed up in teams practicing on hunting the "sheep" with their lances.
They are light lances about 12'long. They are MSW.
"Very useful against snakes."
Snakes indeed, Iz-dubar thought while he raise his hand to his forehead, reducing the glare of the sun while he eyed eyed the mounded guards. ”Hopefully Mitre wills it that we encounter no snakes on this journey,” he offered, as the sweat ran down his back in the sweltering heat. ”However, Iz-dubar needs no instruction handling a weapon.
He turned to Slim Jim, ”May being good in a pinch be good enough but remember you stick the pointy end in your enemy, after that you should be fine.”
@Iz-dubar You need to prepare your spells. Some endure elements would be helpful from all the divine casters to deal with the temperature extremes. Thoron, your 1st level domain spell could be traded out for one.
They are light lances about 12'long. They are MSW
Nodding as Haltashaar instructs them in their duties, Ratel chuckles at Iz-dubar's response to the hatted one's question, 'using the pointy end' it sounded like something he would have said. When they are ready to leave, he summons his sorrel mare.
Pleased that they at least stop in the heat of the day, Ratel endures the heavy armor, not willing to take it off just to be more comfortable. Smiling he was pleased that he found a caravan leaving the day he'd entered the city, this way they would be in the holy cities by the summer Solstice, a holy day for those who follow Mitra.
Deadpan Jim replied, "Well I'm glad we cleared that up. A thousand thanks for your wisdom, sahib."
A while later he started tending to his hoarse's needs, feeding her some oats and water. Clearly it was going to be a long trip and found small tasks like that calming.
Dot
"I can help most of us with the extreme heat if one of you can help me out"
”That is very kind of you, Iz-dubar thanks you. By Mitra’s will this humble servant can also bless others with protection from the heat on our journey,” the dark bearded man offered.
"Indeed a generous offer, what can we do in return friend?" asked Jim.
Jim shrugged, "Not sure they make ale round these parts, still I've got plenty of dates if you want to try fermenting some... Probably taste awful but it'd get the job done."
Later when the group was discussing the guard schedule, Jim offered to take the first spot saying, "Doesn't matter to me which slot I've got but to kick things off how about I take the first watch in the mornings?"
”If it pleases everyone this humble servant can be assisting with the the guarding of the wagons in the afternoons,” the soft spoken Iz-Dubar offered.
Sigrid the Nimble, you are riding to the rear of the column when a spider appears from its trap door to the right of you. Roll for initiative.
Chuckling at the the swashbucklers retort, Ratel realized he'd fit in well with the other guards, As the cleric of Freya offers to help the other guards, Ratel ponders what he would be able to add. Furrowing his brow, he confesses, "I do not have any spells, per se, but I will be able to provide Mitra's light in dark places, it will be a blessing to you all."
Not suprised by the dwarfs preferance for ale, he interupts, "My friends we will be truly in the wasteland before ale is not available,"
Wanting to get to know the other servant of Mitra better, Ratel added, "I will guard the wagons in the afternoon as well."
Sigrid was a plain looking woman who responded with nods and little else. She hid a heavy stutter that alienated most amiable interactions. While, due to her youth, men often approached her romantically, her stutter pushed the interests from courting to polite disinterest. She could always get a one night stand should she want, but that was a far cry from building a family.
The loneliness marred her face with a glum pallor, and she seemed prone to play outcast in a world that rejected her. She quickly agreed to function as an outrider at the start of their journey.
While out riding she sees a spider that need attention.
She pulls free her bow and launches a missile at the spider.
"Spuu...Spuu...Spuu...Spider!" She calls to the others
Hearing a commotion, Jim pulled the lance out of its holder and frowned. A lance wasn't Jim's favourite weapon, he found them heavy and unwieldy. Still anything that put a distance between him and a spider was good thing! He guide his hoarse towards the spider and went for it, but the thing scuttled aside.
"A big hairy one at that!" he replied.
The poor spider only had 16 hp. XP=50 each. Jim, you were in one of the wagons at the time as was the morning shift.
Afternoon shift are Ratel and Iz-dubar. The other four are outriders.
Slim Jim, you are riding out to the right and notice a scarab poking its head through the sand.
Many slaves who work for temple estates live under punitive conditions, but on average the Khemetian slave led a life similar to a serf. They are capable of negotiating transactions and owning personal property. Chattel and debt slaves are given food but probably not given wages.
Despite the relative warmth Iz-dubar woke in a cold sweat the words of the lion-faced bartender echoed in his mind. Before I can protect this white tower I must find it, he thought practically.
He eventually left the comfort of his blankets still not sure if he had a vision or a fanciful dream and began his day, as usual, with a prayer.