The trees mask many parts but nevertheless everyone can make out dozens of well made wooden buildings below them and to the left. Inside the stockade are a few stone two and three storey homes facing across the bay and out to sea.
The awnings probably coincide with the Bazaar on Morah's Map.
When Ghari looks out and down to the right, he can make out the rivers that split around an island. On it are several fairly large buildings, one of which must be the Temple.
Across the bay on the gently sloping hillside there are literally dozens upon dozens of homes and shops in no particualr pattern. On the seaward left are a right ramshackle of shanties and tenements all made of wood. In the middle are several large warehouses at the quay and beyond are the shops and dwellings.
The smoky tannery and armoury can just be made out far to the right and upriver.
"Wise as ever, Marwan. Shulim or Fudrick should lead I think. Yrar is too intimidating."
"Wonderful, I tink I'll adopt da role of advisor, Fudrick, bud, I give you da lead. First bit of advise, no real names, we come up wit aliases, Nabil al-Kerah 'n Milush is fine fer Marwan n' me but da rest o' ya might want ta tink up someting.
"Second bit o' advice, we stay in groups, dat means no less din two, and someone better always keep watch. Same as on Morah's boat, only I'd say we's far more likely ta run inta problems here.
"and me last bit o' advice, let's plan our escape route before we make a move fer da girl. No sense reaching out fer her if we don't have a way out. Let's tink wit our heads gentlemen."
"Wise as ever, Marwan. Shulim or Fudrick should lead I think. Yrar is too intimidating."
Fazaam blinks, and looks at Ghari wide-eyed.
"And this is a bad thing how exactly?!?" He asks innocently."Seriously, in a place like this, I think Yrar is exactly the kind of guy you want on point. Or at least second to backup whoever is in the lead. Look at it,..." He says, indicating the town below with a dramatic wave of his hand.
"Mushashlat. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious." He intones seriously, but with a quick wink to Ghari. Hasan, for his part, makes a show of hiding in Fazaam's half-ponytail, then chatters with laughter.
Fazaam does seem to listen seriously to Shulim's advice. At least he nods in agreement, and he's not laughing.
"Excellent advice Master Shulim. I might also suggest that we avoid splitting up if at all possible, safety in numbers and all. And never without letting the others know where your group is going. That way we know where to start looking if you don't come back." He grins.
"Very well, I shall be 'ZimZaam'. Let us take a moment to adopt our new personas, and see what's going on. Zerea came here for a reason. I want to know what that reason is. Because After rescuing Temusa, I would very much like to ruin her plans. Just because I can't think of a person who deserves it more." He says with a smirk.
Marwan nods to the group
"Good suggestions all. I would also have us keep in mind exactly what Zerea picked up from the ruins on that island. There may be problems in Musushlat as we speak. We must be wary."
"and me last bit o' advice, let's plan our escape route before we make a move fer da girl. No sense reaching out fer her if we don't have a way out. Let's tink wit our heads gentlemen."
"Then I shall be Aliph. That's my brother's name. He's less than a year older than me and my parents often confused us. I answer to it nearly as well as my own name."
Everyone suddenly hears a shout of "Stop! Thief!" come from the stockade to your left. A figure briefly jumps over and down into the undergrowth.
As the party look, they can make out a man shouting and waving from one of the large stone buildings inside the stockade. They can also hear the sounds of heavy movement crashing through the bushes towards them from the stockade.
Hasan stops laughing, and really hides behind Fazaam's head as the elf loosens his rapier in it's sheath. Fazaam balances on his toes, standing behind Ghari but ready to move.
Hasan stops laughing, and really hides behind Fazaam's head as the elf loosens his rapier in it's sheath. Fazaam balances on his toes, standing behind Ghari but ready to move.
Ghari nocks an arrow but does not draw. He does not like thieves, but his sojourn as an unwilling pirate has given him a sympathy for those on the wrong side of the law. It's not always their fault. He concentrates on the jungle in front of him, hoping by sight or sound to estimate where the fugitive will break into the path. "Do we take him or not?"
"Best not get involved," Shulim hisses, "we don't know who's toes we might be stepin' on!"
"Best not get involved," Shulim hisses, "we don't know who's toes we might be stepin' on!"
Ghari is annoyed because the conversation makes proper listening difficult, but can't help arguing, "But capturing a thief may win us favor with the local headman."
Ghari is annoyed because the conversation makes proper listening difficult, but can't help arguing, "But capturing a thief may win us favor with the local headman."
"Ya but we may need da thieves to sneak us in or out o' someplace sticky," Shulim quickly adds, "in a place like dis da law ain't da only law."
Bursting out of the bushes 25 foot away, comes a desperate looking man. He is missing one eye, in fact that side of his face is marked almost black.
The clothes are worn and sweaty and his one good hand holds a small brown sack from which a silvery object pokes.
"Get out my way," he shouts waving with a withered clawlike hand.
The rogue runs straight up the path at everyone.
Bursting out of the bushes 25 foot away, comes a desperate looking man. He is missing one eye, in fact that side of his face is marked almost black.
The clothes are worn and sweaty and his one good hand holds a small brown sack from which a silvery object pokes.
"Get out my way," he shouts waving with a withered clawlike hand.
** spoiler omitted **The rogue runs straight up the path at everyone.
spot (1d20+5=16) Ghari spins toward the man bursting from the bushes, but some movement by the stockade catches his eye. "An efreet pursues him! Whose favor to seek now, Shulim? " Ghari draws on the approaching theif, but waits for his companions' word.
"ZimZaam makes a good point. With Yrar in the front we will be more imposing looking. Some of the more vile patrons of this city will be sure to give us a wide berth." At the sound of shouting Fudrick looks up. He quickly adds, "Use Parsa for me. It is a nickname given by my mother."
"It is a difficult decision. As my father would say, "we are caught between a sandbar and a whirlpool." Either way I think our actions will lead us to conflict at a later date. Time to make a solid decision is not with us at the moment. I say we stop the man, a thief is a thief. If he is innocent then let this ports law deal with it. However I will side with the majority on this as we are in a strange place and I do not know how they handle these things."
spot (1d20+5=16) Ghari spins toward the man bursting from the bushes, but some movement by the stockade catches his eye. "An efreet pursues him! Whose favor to seek now, Shulim? " Ghari draws on the approaching theif, but waits for his companions' word.
ha ha: spot (1d20=1)
Shulim can't see what Ghari sees but his response is the same: "if ya want ta do someting din make a grab fer the boy but do yer best ta miss, the authorities tink yer trying ta help, and we can argue later dat you missed on purpose if we need help from da thieves."
"Good plan Shooli!" 'ZimZaam' hisses as he spots who Ghari is talking about.
"Smash the tree as the lad passes 'Yarah!', make it close!" 'ZimZaam' Whispers as he reaches out with both arms to try and catch the thief, and looks to see how Ghari is standing so he can plan his 'accidental' misstep.
'ZimZaam's ' spot roll: (1d20 2=22)
"Who is Shooli?" he hisses at Zimzaam. "And he is Aliph, his brother." He points at Ghari.
The one armed man charges up the path and reaches Ghari and Fazaam.
Now everyone can see the six foot black skinned man floating fast over and around the bushes. Close to the four foot curved tulwar looks immense. He is only about 20 feet from the party.
Casting an eye over at the stockade, the man speeds up in desperation, "help me!" He seems to be trying to avoid knocking into the big folks but has no compunction in running down Shulim or Fudrick.
"STOP THIEF!" He hells at the approaching man. As soon as he realizes the man has no intention of stopping he dives out of the way at the last second.
Ghari realizes the efreet is gaining too fast. The man will never escape. He decides to really try to capture the man. Casting his bow aside he tries a low tackle.
melee touch attack to initiate grapple, opposed grapple check (1d20=9, 1d20=20)
The rogue dodges Ghari and keeps running past Fazaam.
Fazaam BLUF and To 'Hit' Rolls: (1d20 5=22, 1d20=20)
Fazaam leaps in as Ghari stumbles, managing to make an excellent grab look blocked by the stumbling woodsman.
"Watch where your going Aliph!" Fazaam cries as he recovers from the aborted attack. As he untangles from Ghari, he whispers, "That's no Efreet friend, tis' a sorcerer perhaps."
The rogue twists and turns avoiding everyone's deft attacks. Then he dashes clean over the hill. "Mahmour will kill you for that."
But a shadow passes over head, the warrior quickly shouts down then he too flies out of sight after his quarry.
"Shurdin shall be back to deal with you next."
-
Everyone sees a brief flash of glittering silver in the trees then a wild scream is cut off.
Spot DC15
Ghari stands up and dusts himself off. He smiles at Shulim. "You were right. Now everyone loves us."
Aside to Fazaam, "Really? Not an efreet? " He looks disappointed.
Marwan looks at the scene in bemusement.
"Truly the Navigator tests our skill with shifts of course and an inconstant wind."
Fudrick picks himself up and wipes dirt and leaves from his face. "Did anyone see what it was that chased that man? Even covered in filth I saw a flash of light. Do you think he will be coming for us next?"
The tall figure in pantaloons and a large black cape comes back over the hill towards the party.
His bloody giant scimitar is being cleaned on a rag. A dirty rag mouch like the rogue's shirt once was. Attached to his belt swings the sack.
Even at a distance of twenty foot he shouts, "You, who are you fleas on this dog of a dirt track that could not catch a one armed thief."
Everyone can now see several other men, armed with scimitars and small shields come running up from the stockade. They are about thirty feet away and coming fast, if a little breathless.
"By the seven winds of fate I hate such mortal stupidity!" His brilliant white teeth shine in his black face.
The tall figure in pantaloons and a large black cape comes back over the hill towards the party.
His bloody giant scimitar is being cleaned on a rag. A dirty rag mouch like the rogue's shirt once was. Attached to his belt swings the sack.
Even at a distance of twenty foot he shouts, "You, who are you fleas on this dog of a dirt track that could not catch a one armed thief."
Everyone can now see several other men, armed with scimitars and small shields come running up from the stockade. They are about thirty feet away and coming fast, if a little breathless.
"By the seven winds of fate I hate such mortal stupidity!" His brilliant white teeth shine in his black face.
"We are travels," Shulim says, his strange accent suddenly shifting, "road weary, and looking for food and rest. Although it wasn't our affair, and although our bodies were tired and our bellies near empty, we tried to help you. I suppose we are weak, thank you for your astuteness, but this is how we are addressed for attempting to help then perhaps you are telling us that this is a town where we are better off not aiding the authorities? Now, if you are finished humiliating us, we would like to go about our business."
Marwan winces at Shulim/Milush's tone. He addresses the stranger:
"Truly noble one, we did try to assist, but the Winds of Fate blew against our sails and we were unable to catch the wily fugitive. I can see that you needed not our help in any case! We do humbly beg your forgiveness in not assisting you better."
Making sure to be non-threatening Ghari retreives his bow and puts the arrow back in the quiver. Leaning close to Fazaam he whispers, "Shulim has spirit, but I like the way Marwan pleads our case better. --- Are you sure he's not an efreet?"
The black faced warrior rests his sword on one shoulder as his chest visibly inflates, "humiliate! I do not humiliate such fleas as you."
Then he points across the bay to the ramshackle buildings, "there is where such rats of gnomes and toads of halflings live. One word from such as you to your betters and I shall remove your head too!"
He motions to the guards. "Now travellers, oh Polite One (and not his toilet servant), who are you to enter this place, tired and hungry without the wits to bow to one of the true line of genies? For I am Firuluz, Jannti warrior of the winds and bodyguard to Sarfutis."
The other guards have slowly moved up to listen closely, almost waiting for a chance to use their scimitars.
Bluff: 1d20 7=17
"Perhaps your master is the one we seek then," Shulim says with a half bow, "I suppose the name Milush Sabbaar means nothing to you or your master?"
A little of the bluster goes out of the arrogant genie. His eyes narrow on the gnome.
"Milush? Sabaar? Surely you jest?"
He scans the group to see if he recognises anyone. "What business does my master want you for?"
A little of the bluster goes out of the arrogant genie. His eyes narrow on the gnome.
"Milush? Sabaar? Surely you jest?"
He scans the group to see if he recognises anyone. "What business does my master want you for?"
A smile crosses Shulim's face and he rubs his chin.
"Interesting," he says, as if the jannti's lack of knowledge is somehow significant, Shulim quickly scans the harbor again, and he allows his eyes to visibly linger on the Sea Harem, "I am likely mistaken then, please think no more about it, I wouldn't wish to disturb your master with such doom and gloom . . . the stars weren't right anyways . . ."
Shulim looks to the ramshackle buildings.
"Gnomes and toads you say?" he says with another half bow, "thank you for sparing the time to offer directions noble Firuluz, Jannti warrior of the winds, decedent of the true line of genies."
"Shulim has spirit, but I like the way Marwan pleads our case better. --- Are you sure he's not an efreet?"
Fazaam nods slightly, then whispers out the side of his mouth as Shulim and Marwan speak to the floating warrior. "Yes. The lack of flames is a good hint. But that doesn't mean he couldn't be another race of Djinn I suppose. A Djinni, or Dao, or Madrid, or,..."
"Now travellers, oh Polite One (and not his toilet servant), who are you to enter this place, tired and hungry without the wits to bow to one of the true line of genies? For I am Firuluz, Jannti warrior of the winds and bodyguard to Sarfutis."
"Or Janni. That would have been my first guess." Fazaam finishes blandly to Ghari once more under cover of Shulim's response, lips barely moving.
"Milush? Sabaar? Surely you jest?"
He scans the group to see if he recognises anyone. "What business does my master want you for?"
Fazaam notes the Janni's comments about the group's smaller members, and files it with the observation that the former thief seemed to have no compunction about running over them either. He lets the restless part of his mind take that thought and play with it for a while.
Fazaam thinks quickly, he is unsure of the exact hierarchy of the Djinni races, so settles for his tried and true technique. 'Flattery will get you everywhere,... if you lay it on thick enough'.
Fortunately Shulim speaks again before Fazaam can step out from behind Marwan.
"Interesting," he says,...
,..."Gnomes and toads you say?" he says with another half bow, "thank you for sparing the time to offer directions noble Firuluz, Jannti warrior of the winds, decedent of the true line of genies."
Fazaam performs a courtly bow, one leg forward, bending at the waist with a grand sweeping gesture, which causes the nimble Hasan to take a tighter grip on the elf's half ponytail.
"Indeed most Fabulous Firuluz," He proclaims, rising only halfway from his bow as he addresses the Janni. ",... most mighty and wily warrior of the winds, most noble descendant of the Janni, first among the races of the djinnikind. Wherever my master travels, we shall spread the tale of the magnanimousness of Firuluz, who took pity on a group of unworthy travelers, so that they they might have opportunity to enlighten their darkness, and so spread the tale of the Fabulous Firuluz, as far as the winds will travel. Farewell, most magnificent of Jannti, a thousand thousand blessings upon you and your house! May the line live forever!" He finally declares as he steers Ghari into a bow, then takes his elbow and, still bowing, follows Shulim.
Fazaam's Bluff in COnversation roll: (1d20 5=21)
;P
Still wiping dirt from his clothes and hair Fudrick says, "Excuse me noble warrior." He does a bow imitating the others, "But what trouble could a one handed man make to bring out such show of force? Armed guards and a genie? He must have been a powerful sorcerer to warrant your attention" A quick look in the direction of the bright light. ", but not powerful enough for one such as you."
He nods at the wise words of Fazaam. Solemn and obviously agreeing with all the flattery.
To Fudrick he replies, "to steal from my master is to seek a sure death. Execution." He opens the sack for all to see before handing it to one of the warriors, a few measly candlesticks and silver boxes lie within.
"For sure no one who knows this poor thief will risk such a death. Then the lesson is well taught."
Firuluz leans back with hands on hips and laughs out loud, at which all the warriors join in...quickly.
Fazaam performs a courtly bow, one leg forward, bending at the waist with a grand sweeping gesture, which causes the nimble Hasan to take a tighter grip on the elf's half ponytail.
"Indeed most Fabulous Firuluz," He proclaims, rising ........................... ..................
Farewell, most magnificent of Jannti, a thousand thousand blessings upon you and your house! May the line live forever!" He finally declares as he steers Ghari into a bow, then takes his elbow and, still bowing, follows Shulim.
This at least is very familiar to Ghari. He keeps his mouth shut to avoid adding sand to the oil pouring from Fazaam and awkwardly bows deeply at Fazaam's signal.
"I shall mention you to my master, Milush and now begone that I may clean my blade of the pig's gore."
He waits for you all. The guards start to make ready to head back into the stockade, relaxed and at ease.
The atmosphere is gone.
As they walk away Ghari pulls Fazaam aside. "I thought Shulim would get us in trouble there. Talking like that. But he surely pulled the wool over Firuluz's eyes."
...a few measly candlesticks and silver boxes lie within...
"What would cause a man to risk certain death for such trinkets? Is this town in such dire straights to cause a man to stoop to such a low thing knowing his chances of survival are so small?"
FAzaam nods at Ghari, responding softly. "I felt the same. Truly he is as quick with his tongue as I am with a spell! But his wits are sharper than my rapier. We are truly lucky to have him on our side!"
The elf then turns to Fudrick, and responds aloud. "You speak well sir, We knew that Mushushlat wasn't a pleasant place, but what could drive a man to be so desperate as to risk his life for so little? OR to make an intelligent being so obviously inconsiderate of his fellow being/ There is more here than meets the eye. We planned on being wary, but I'm considering 'paranoia' until we find out what's going on!" HE says with a smirk.
The genie takes off and flies back into the large stone building, meanwhile the guards trudge back around. No one pays the party a second glance.
"I shall mention you to my master, Milush and now begone that I may clean my blade of the pig's gore."
He waits for you all. The guards start to make ready to head back into the stockade, relaxed and at ease.
The atmosphere is gone.
Shulim had already started walking when the genie's words catch him. Shulim turns again and offers another half bow.
"But of course, we need to find food and shelter, and then, I suspect, there may be work to do. Good day to you, and blessing to your master."
Shulim waits till they're long out of ear shot before turning to talk to his friends. His words slide back into Shulim's mysterious dialect.
"Right dat's why I said let's not do anyting, always a problem wit dis sort o'town: getting involved. Now it's possible dat our flying friend will tell 'is master about me, and it's possible dat someone might approach you guys askin' about me. Da story is simple: I'm lookin' fer someone. I haven't told ya more din dat.
"We gots ta be careful, appear moderately dangerous, and potentially useful. Dat's our best hope ta stay alive in dis pit, maybe we can fool em' long enough ta get what we need, and din we can escape dis accursed town."
Fazaam raises an eyebrow as Shulim returns to his native dialect, but his only other response is to nod at his words.
"Indeed. I confess to being of a somewhat, flighty nature betimes. But rest assured, I have my eye on one prize,..." He says, looking out to the ship in harbor meaningfully. "C'mon," He says, clapping Ghari on the shoulder. "The longer your sister is made to wait, the crankier she'll be. And somehow I don't see her taking that out on her brother!" He smiles, then falls in behind the woodsman and the half-orc as they lead the way down the path.