Zahrah Khargosh's page

Hi, I've been playing for a few months now and have starting to run Mummy's Mask. Two sessions in (just finished the first tomb), and this weekend is looking nasty in terms of challenges. There are only four players this week and their cleric will be missing just as we start hitting the undead and nastier CON damage effects. Should I tell them to go ahead and level up to keep upright?

Zahrah quick-stepped nimbly aside from the greenery that rose up to snag her feet. Both her heart and her sword tip sank as she watched their once possible safe passage-or perhaps even dubious ally-flew off with one of their own in his belly. There was no reason for it to end this way.
While she was saddened by the sudden and violent death of any of their companions, she could not quell the opposite and equally immense relief. They would no longer be traveling with one who would gladly drag them all across dragons fangs on a whim. The bard looked towards the mumbling newcomer. Well, at least he's more coherent. She thought with a wince. Now that the worst of the fighting was done, Zahrah cleaned her blade, counted her arrows and unslung her instrument. The tune that emerged was peaceful, like one used to soothe a child to sleep.

Feeling tired
By the fire
The long day is over

With no reprise
The sun will rise
The long day is over

Zahrah was not the happiest of adventurers. In an abrupt change of attitude from when they were on the way up to the temple, she broods with pursed lips. Thinking.
This seemed like a wonderful opportunity for oddities and fun when we started. Perhaps I followed too swiftly. We travel with a trickster and a mad man-both of which I am not so sure of their characters. While the mad man is simply.....mad. The woman is much more calculating and took her time in ruining that creatures life. And the smell...
Finding such heavy thinking strange and uncomfortable, Zahrah unstraps her stringed instrument and brings it around to rest against her in a graceful motion. Her long pale fingers strum absently until the sound winds into a familiar song. She picks it up with gusto and pushes the bad karma from the air.
" There's a dark & a troubled side of life
There's a bright, there's a sunny side, too
Tho' we meet with the darkness and strife
The sunny side we also may view

The storm and its fury broke today,
Crushing hopes that we cherish so dear;
Clouds and storms will, in time, pass away
The sun again will shine bright and clear.
Let us greet with the song of hope each day
Tho' the moment be cloudy or fair
Let us trust in our sun away
Who keepeth everyone in her care. "

In a small niche of the market strums a girl with a dreamy look on her face. Should any pickpocket have even taken the time to work her over, they'd have been sorely disappointed as all she carried on her person was the instrument her fingers plucked, the whip at her hip and a blade, whose handle stuck out from behind her within easy reach. Underlying the rustle and bustle of the market wove the sound of her lute and the tune of an unburdened spirit. Father would like it here. It's so lively. thought Zahrah Khargosh with a smile.

Her father, Bahar Khargosh, was a wandering bard with an affinity for animals. Once she was deemed efficient with lute and blade and sense, she was allowed to drift off on her own. This market was only one of many in a long line of aimless destinations in her search to spread music, seek new stories and fill her belly.

Speaking of which, her stomach punctuated a pause in hand motion with a growl. The young woman chuckled and made a note to eat soon. The stall that she had been eyeing some distance away beckoned her leave her handful of watchers.