THE LEGACY OF FIRE
Herein it is related (but Shilah is All-Knowing and All-Merciful) that in the thirty-first year of the Second Age of the Burning Sands, after the death of thousand-cursed Immortal Caliph and the destruction of her vile cohort of heartless sahir called the Khadi, a caravan departed Medinaat al-Salaam, called the City of Peace and the Jewel of the Desert, for the village of Kelmarane, in the foothills of the Brazen Peaks that mark the border between the Scarab Empire and the Burning Sands. This caravan was lead by Garavel, a servant of Almah al-Hazaad and of the houses of Dahab, a solid man of middle years, with a graying beard and a sharp nose that distracted those who saw him from noticing the callused knuckles and toughened muscles of a trained warrior. With him were Arek bint Jael, a sahir in the service of the Dahabi Houses as well ; Gahiji, desert scout of the Senpet people ; the strange man called Mo Mo, a massive slave from a distant tribe ; Nadya, a young mystic from the traveling Ra’Shari ; and Tahib, a street rat from Medinaat al-Salaam .
For a week the caravan traveled, first down the mighty Nahr’umar River, which brings life to the Senpet and Medinaat al-Salaam both, then across the desert itself, following a cracked and crumbling trade road, abandoned for many long years. Their destination, Garavel told them, was a hill outside Kelamarane proper called the Sultan’s Claw, where they would meet with Almah Al-Hazaad and the rest of her entourage. Now the evening prayers are done and night’s chill closes in as they approach the Brazen Peaks, where they expect to meet the rest of their expedition.
If only you could be sure of that, though. You met Almah once during the planning stages of the mission, and she seemed… tense. Nervous. Focused, to be sure, and quite capable, but something about the situation was worrying her. “There may be… difficulties,” she told you at one point. “Kelmarane has a history, one that will have to be dealt with before we can call our mission successful.” She refused to say more, other than, “I will explain if and when the time comes. With all due respect, bint Jael, your reputation as a… spreader of tales… precedes you. I won’t have my expedition distracted until the matter must be addressed. Until then, just focus on what I tell you to do now.” It was not a very reassuring conversation.
At last, of course, she disappeared, telling you to forget her and go on with your life. She should have known better. Your cards have given you a direction – a place called Kelmarane, where you believe she is, but where danger also seems to loom. A young Ra’Shari on her own would no doubt die in a place like that. But then, you’re not alone now, are you?
One look at Gahiji, and you are instantly aware of his Senpet heritage. His hair is close-cropped, and his bare chest reveals a wiry strength. He carries a very light pack, consisting of rations, a small survival kit, and a holy book. The remainder of his belongings (including his armor) are kept with the caravan, but are similarly meager. In fact, the the only thing he owns that could be considered valuable is his sword. Gahiji spends a portion of every morning setting up a small shrine with this weapon at it's center, and then reads from his holy book and prays.
For most of the first week, Gahiji is quiet and contemplative when he is traveling with the caravan, often breaking away from the group to scout ahead. He usually returns within an hour or two, occasionally longer, and almost always with something to add to that evening's communal meal.
If anyone speaks to him, he is respectful to the point of being cold, unless some one asks about his morning ritual or the blade he carries. These he will speak about for as long as he has an audience.
Nadya is... Not quite shy, not reclusive. She is a thoughtful girl though, who tends to stay in the shadows out of the heat when possible during the day, wrapped in a robe that covers her clothing and shades her face from the heat of the day time sun. She will talk little about her past, less about her people, only mentioning that she travelled a great deal, and was seperated from her family when she was young. (No real suprise there)
Her hands play with her bracelets, though, sending a cheerful sound of bells through the group, to lighten the long journey, and she is more then happy to entertain the group come sunsets chill with a dance or two, in front of the fire. Then the robe comes off, to show off a more colorful personality, with her RaShari Dancers clothing. Then she smiles, and laughs, and if none need healing, enjoys the company of others with friendly conversation and good will.
Mo Mo has a few books within his possesion, which are well-created. He spends his evenings after the caravan stops moving rereading one or another of them, often making more notes in the already full margins.
If approached, he is pleasant to speak with on topics such as the journey, destination and goal that he shares with you. He turns aside questions about his past by telling stories of the places he has seen, rather than specifically answering any inquiries about his own experiences. He introduces himself as Mo Mo, explaining his nickname was a gift from his little sister before they were seperated twenty years ago. His real name, Moagunu, inspired her to call him "Mo Mo," which means little brother, although she is (was) 7 years his junior, and about 150lbs lighter.
He is usually reading when everyone else (except whoever is on watch) falls asleep and wakes up, and when someone comes to get him for his turn at watch as well.
A slender young man with a ready smile, Tahib was somewhat out of countenance for the first couple of days after the caravan left the city walls. After a little time to adjust, he has settled into the caravan's routine: cheerfully offering his assistance to anyone, pitching in to help with whatever chores are necessary, and asking after everyone's story. His speech is far from smooth or polished, but he makes up for that somewhat by simply being friendly, and is a good listener no matter the subject.
Tahib's clothing is simple and looks fairly new, as though he had only acquired robes appropriate for travel recently. The lightly-curved longsword he carries is similar in design to those carried by the city guards, however, it has quite obviously never been used. He has a habit, when nothing else is occupying his hands, of pulling small objects out from the flowing sleeves and juggling, or rolling a coin across the knuckles of one hand. Tahib pays close attention to the caravan's progress, watching both ahead and behind with interest.
_HRF.jpg)
There is little doubt that within the first day or so, everyone has met Arik. While well-dressed in expensive clothes, she is careless of them as she spends much of her time racing around the caravan through the dust and sand. She chats with every person who does not move quickly enough out of her way including many of the draft animals in the caravan. Despite wildly speculating about the interesting, perhaps dangerous, adventures to be had on the journey she is generally cheerful, perhaps annoying so. She seems to think it her duty to make sure every one feels at home and make sure that every one knows everything about everything. Though she seems terribly busy, she doesn't seem to accomplish much.
Despite the gathering gloom, the shadow of distant Pale Mountain, the highest of the Brazen Peaks, looms over all of you as you come over the last hill before reaching Sultan's Claw. When you see it, you realize at once why it has that name. A lone tree, twisted and withered, stands atop the hill. The tree's five near-leafless branches make the whole seem like nothing so much as a grasping claw, reaching up from the earth itself.
Beneath the bare limbs of the Sultan's Claw, several wagons and tents stand in a rough semicircle, facing the west. Camels stand lazily in a large corral on one side, and livestock - goats and sheep - and a few chickens wander the area.
Abruptly, as the group reaches the bottom of the hill, a sudden roaring sound catches your ears. At the hill's crest, red-yellow light bursts into view - one of the waiting wagons is on fire!
I scramble to find Garavel to inform him of the fire. Without waiting for a response from him, I grab an empty bucket off the supply wagon and head for the burning wagon, pausing long enough to fill it with sand to throw on the fire.
- one of the waiting wagons is on fire!
Gahiji follows Arek, having grabbed a bucket/bowl/shovel/helmet to use as a means of throwing more sand at the fire. He also looks around to see if anyone seem strangely unimpressed by the flaming wagon.
Once the group reaches the top of the hill, they can see more clearly what is going on. Lush orange and red flames engulf an elaborate wooden wagon emblazoned with painted moons and stars. (Most of you recognize the wagon as one that belongs to the Ra'Shari, the traveling people of the Sands.) A gout of smoke pours from an open door, and as you approach, a sudden gust of wind sweeps through the camp, sending the flames surging higher. A brightly painted Tarot card, sometimes used by the Ra'Shari to tell the future, is carried by the wind, shedding sparks, and it smacks into Nadya's chest. It is the Tower, an emblem of destruction, broken structures of order, and death by fire. Even as your eyes register this fact, a new bloom of flame appears, as the wind-whipped fire catches the dry branches of the Sultan's Claw and lights them as well.
From out of the large central tent, a beautiful, regal woman who can only be Almah al-Hazaad steps out into the night. "Douse that flame!" she shouts to the other figures scurrying around the camp. Her eyes catch your group, and she half smiles. "Ah, Garavel. Just a moment later than in the nick of time, as usual." Her gaze sweeps past him to the rest of you, and she shouts, "Find some way to help!"
Looking around, you all see several crises developing at once. There is the fire, of course, where Almah, Garavel, and four soldiers (in the garb of the Medinaat al-Salaam City Guard) have formed an impromptu bucket brigade, passing water toward the burning wagon from another wagon, this one uncovered, about 20 feet away. The latter has a large barrel, apparently holding the camp's drinking water, now being used to fight the flames.
Elsewhere, though, you see other problems. Four burly warriors, in mismatched gear and carrying no emblems or badges, are trying desperately to pull another wagon away from the flames, though it looks massively heavy even for their bulks.
Some feet away, a white-bearded man with the wrinkled face and tanned skin of a man who has spent much time in the sun bends over two more figures, both badly burned. Even as he works to save the life of one of them, the other rushes toward death.
Finally, near the camel corral, you see a man and a woman trying desperately to control the livestock: goats, chickens and sheep panicking and rushing about in confusion and fear. The animals represent both money and food sources for the camp, but they are in danger of being lost to the desert in the mounting chaos.
Some feet away, a white-bearded man with the wrinkled face and tanned skin of a man who has spent much time in the sun bends over two more figures, both badly burned. Even as he works to save the life of one of them, the other rushes toward death.
Getting a better look at what is happening, Gahiji drops his improvised bucket and rushes towards the wounded, uttering prayers and drawing ancient wards in the air. He collapses to his knees at the side of the untended person, and tries to determine the nature and severity of the wounds. Medicine w/1 raise (TN 20) 5k2=14
"These injuries are too severe for my meager skill," he says to the old man. "The gods will have to intervene more directly, if this one is to live."
Anyone watching:
I join Gahiji in an effort to help the burn victims. Seeing that he had already tried the normal method of healing, I try a magical one.
I join Gahiji in an effort to help the burn victims. Seeing that he had already tried the normal method of healing, I try a magical one.
Mo Mo, seeing a job for a strong pair of arms, rushes to help pull the other wagon away from the flames.
Raw Strength (if 10s explode) 24 (if not) 21
Mo Mo, seeing a job for a strong pair of arms, rushes to help pull the other wagon away from the flames.
Raw Strength (if 10s explode) 24 (if not) 21
Mo Mo leans into the wagon, aided by the mecenaries, but though it rocks and starts to move forward, the wheels don't quite want to turn.
Nadya grabs the card to her, eyes going wide, and quickly tucks it away out of sight, looking between the fire and the wounded, and those already tending them. She wraps her scarves closer around her head, covering her face and pulling the cloth tighter around her neck, before moving to join the bucket line, trading bucket for bucket. A little bit from one goes to douse the scarf over her nose a bit to filter more of the smoke from her breath.
“Gahiji, how does the other one look?” While I try to figure out if this one is stable enough to turn our attentions to the other victim.
Gahiji turns to the old man, "How fares this one, grandfather? Do you need assistance?"
The old man looks up and nods with graditude. "No, my friend, you've done what was needful. This man will live, as will his fellow soldier. Go, help elsewhere if you can."
Tahib takes in the scene and trots for the animals, seeing those as the only issue without someone tending them already. As he makes his way there, he casts a wary eye toward the horizon in search of whatever caused these problems...
"Go, help elsewhere if you can."
Gahiji will try to help with the animals.
Moving slowly and deliberately as he approaches the frightened animals, Gahiji extends his arms and raises them slightly above his waist. He tries making calming shushing noises, "Shhh.. easy friends, the fire cannot get you."
Tahib nods to Gahiji, and attempts to mimic the larger man's movements and body language from the other side... when that has no effect, he scowls over his shoulder at the fire and calls out, "Do we need to blind them or something? Cover their eyes so they can't see the fire?"
((I... neither know how or why, with 3k2, to roll, sorry.))
"Do we need to blind them or something? Cover their eyes so they can't see the fire?"
"I believe that will only frighten them more. Perhaps we should see to putting out the blaze," Gahiji says with a nod towards the bucket line. "It should help calm them down. We can round up any that escape later."
Gahiji heads over and helps start a second line.
((I... neither know how or why, with 3k2, to roll, sorry.))
The two animal handlers look desperate as Tahib and Gahiji start to leave again, but they are all too aware how little help the Senpet and street thief are likely to be, after their disastrous beginning.
Their second bucket line, on the other hand, seems to be working quickly, and the fire is showing marked sign of weakening under the onslaught.
Seeing that the patients are under control and that many are helping with the fire, I go to help with the animals.