6TH OF SARENITH, 4708 AR.
The Journey begins.
Early morning. Merchants have barely begun setting up their stalls and the faintest breeze whisks the sand from one side of the road to the other. The sun is dawning from the east; despite twilight, the temperature is rising fast. The air gradually fills up with the scent of breakfast being made, from houses to taverns to stalls.
Garavel stands impatiently by the city gate, reining several camels, while giving orders of preparation to Marketus and Yantur. "Marketus, the bag by the hut over there contains empty waterskins. Start loading them up in the camels' saddlebags. Yantur, get me the map from the table by the hut."
His orders are loud but there is no mirth or enjoyment in his tone; he keeps staring at the road to the centre of the town, waiting for the other four makeshift adventurers to arrive. The first silhouette appears in the horizon. "At last," he calls out.
Hazem strolls leisurely up the main road, scratching his head, "Yaaaawwwwn.."
He walks up to no one in particular, "Umm.. excuse me... is this.. the caraval headed to Kelmarane?"
He produces a flyer from his pack, "it says here that you are in need of volunteers? Where do I sign up?"
Hazem stands there with a cheesy grin
A small gnome walking beside a giant scorpion approaches as well. "I hear you are planning on taking back Kelmarane. I am Alfred Windbottom, formerly of that locale, and I offer my assistance in taking back the place from whatever has infested it of late."
"...Nevermind, I see him now! HEY! GARAVEL!! I'M HEEEERE!!!
Hazem jumps up and down, waving the hand with the flyer clutched in it
Garavel only stares at Hazem, his face stern. "Yes. You're here. Yantur, Marketus, this is Hazem. He will be joining us." He gestures to the halfling slave and the human, before he hands Hazem the seven reins of the camels. "Hold these."
He adjusts his white keffiyeh as he turns to the gnome and advances. "Indeed. Your elven friend told me of you. I am Garavel, Majordomo of Princess Almah." Towering over the small figure, he kneels down and extends his arm in a sign of greeting.
Hazem reluctantly accepts the camel reins, and holds them as far away from himself as possible, "I.. umm.. ok.. what.. what do I do with.. these?"
He turns to face the camels, squinting all the while, "ermm.. ok.. let's.. set some ground rules.. if you don't spit on me, I won't cut your tongue out and use it to light campfires, deal?"
Looking at Hazem's bewildered expression, Marketus walks over. "You use the reins to direct the animal! As to how you actually do that? I have no idea!" Sticking his hand out, Marketus grins broadly. "Marketus Jackson! You can call me Mark!"
Hazem looks to his right hand, clutching the camel reins, then to his left, clutching the flyer he had presented earlier.. then back to his right, clearly confused and trying to decide how to proceed, all the while getting more and more agitated as time goes by, not wanting to come across as being rude while Mark has his hand extended in friendship..
"Umm.. ermm..."
Hazem finally decides to shove the reins into his mouth, freeing up his right hand to clasp Mark's. "Haffremm alf haffreem, nife doof meef you!"
A figure wrapped nearly head to toe in loose folds of white desert clothing rides up to the caravan atop a sandy brown warhorse. Until he nears and dismounts, you don't realize that the rider is nearly seven feet in height.
As he nimbly dismounts, he immediately drops to a knee, facing the dawning sun, and says a humble prayer to Sarenrae. Once finished his morning prayer, the rider stands and removes the turban fold from his face. You see he has sharp elven features, with pale skin and dark blue eyes that appear nearly violet. He bows his head to Garavel.
"I am Sihdrin, warrior of the Badawi, Ukhuwwa al Asad... Order of the Lion. I am here to join your caravan to Kelmarane."
Garavel looks at Hazem, his eyebrows barely narrowed - yet with the lack of expression in his face he looks even scarier than usual. "Hazem, refrain from getting saliva on the reins."
He notices Sihdrin approaching; he gets up from the ground after introducting himself to the nome, and advances towards the enormously tall man with a bow. "We meet again, Sihdrin. These will be our companions for the journey. Your friend Alfred arrived only moments before."
You met Garavel last night - I'll play it as if your introduction was for the others. (which I think it was anyway?)
As the sands move about outside, another man garbed in white and yellow garb approached the caravan from the city gates. His stature was loose, formed, and appeared completely fit for travel. As he came closer, he rose his hand in greetings, moving over to the caravan master - a fitting leader for his goal.
He came with an outstretched hand, reaching for the caravan master and hoping for it in turn - if accepted, he'd clasp his wrist, almost honorably.
"As expected. Khasul al-Rasad, in case you've forgotten. There is always much to do - what more can I assist with while we continue to prepare for our journey?"
Further inspection shows a slightly weighted backpack, and a wicked scimitar in a loose scabbard, as if he were always prepared for anything to end violently - but that was the mindset he had, living in Katapesh for so long.
Garavel looks at Hazem, his eyebrows barely narrowed - yet with the lack of expression in his face he looks even scarier than usual. "Hazem, refrain from getting saliva on the reins."
"Ummf reff frummf foruph!!" Hazem exclaims. Hazem makes loud, sucking sound, trying to drain his mouth of all saliva..
Mark laughs at Hazem and reaches to grab the flyer. "Why don't you put this down and take the reins hm?"
Sihdrin nods to the others who are arriving, his new companions. His gaze is appraising, though not distrustful.
Garavel's face lights up in the first smile that any of you has seen - though it's barely visible. He approaches Khasul and shakes his hand. "Khasul, finally you arrive. Make yourself acquainted with everybody; the tall elf is Sihdrin; the gnome is Alfred; that man," he points at Marketus, "Is Marketus; the man with..."
He grows quiet, walking over to Hazem, and he jerks the reins out of the boy's jaw. "This jester is Hazem; and the slave is Yantur."
With almost some emotion he begins to wipe off Hazem's spit, giving you time to get acquainted.
Marketus turns to face where Garavel's voice is coming from. "Umm Hazem, who is he talking about? Who is Khasul?" It becomes obvious that Marketus is a bit blind as he cannot see them just on the other side of the caravan area.
Alfred looks over the assembled group. "I am impressed, Garavel. While I am not acquainted with Khasul directly, his family was well known to produce strong warriors, and it appears that the bloodline holds true. As for the jester, his family always did have a penchant for needing firm guidance for the first couple decades of their life before fully maturing; guidance they rarely received so most of them learned things the hard way. Still, they managed to earn their keep most of the time."
Khasul does more than just walk over to the bunch. After he receives a warm greeting from Garavel, he wears a smile - though through his veiled face it is visible only from his eyes. He nods firmly, and walks over with him as he removes the reins from the man's mouth.
Surely, he must have some sort of disease. Best watch myself.
"Greetings to all of you. I am Khasul, and I am pleased to meet you in our cause. I would recommend we refer to each other what we are capable of, so we know what to expect of each other should things get rough. I am an amateur swordsman, and well-read in magic - I possess the unique ability to balance both at the same time, so do not fret if I have not jumped into the fray as some might. I can bring many effects to bear on top of that - what are you able to do, my friends?"
It is apparent he wants nothing more than to be as friendly as possible - even if it is an awkward way of going about it.
Marketus nods as the man finally enters his field of vision. He he offers his hand to Khasul, and smiles. "Marketus Jackson, you can call me Mark! I have been blessed by...something....to be able to heal with a touch as well as a few other things. Oh and I can walk on liquids." He says these things as if it was no big deal, and to him it really isn't. He seems genuinely friendly.
Sihdrin's eyes widen as Khasul and Marketus describe their abilities. "I have seen some magic in my travels, but I have no such talent. I am trained to use this," he taps the gilt handle of the beautiful elven curve blade hung from his back, "and I have some small knowledge of tactics and teamwork in combat. I would be happy to teach you."
"Umm Hazem, who is he talking about? Who is Khasul?"
"If fing ifs duf guyf un dif hoff..."
Hazem has gone bright red from holding his breath when Khasul finally retches the reins from his clenched teeth. Hazem takes a deep breath, then promptly swoons and plops down on the ground.. "Hi.. my.. name.. is Hazem.. woooo. Umm.. sorry.. you people need to stop.. spinning.. I.. umm.. I think I was hired to.. hold those." Hazem points to the reins that Khazul is now holding.
Hazem stands up, and leans over to Marketus, "hey.. who's this Jester he's talking about? I'd like to meet him! He sounds fun!"
Once Khasul enters his field of vision, Marketus holds out his hand. "I am Marketus Jackson, but you can call me Mark." He then watches as Hazem falls off his camel, and then stands. When asked about who the Jester is, Marketus laughs. "I think they are referring to you Hazem. You are a bit...silly."
"I am Alfred Windbottom, once of the noble town of Kelmerane, as were many of you, though it is doubtful that most of you would remember me, and hopefully will be once more again soon. I and Ruven travel the desert to protect it and it's people from the scourges that fill it, using magic, teeth, and claw, as needed."
"What?! Hey! I'm not a jester! Wha.. why would you call me a jester?! I.. wait, did you say you knew my family??
"I must express my gratitude," he says dully, finishing wiping off all the saliva. "It is reassuring to have a native of the area with us."
"Marketus, have you finished loading the waterskins?"
He throws a glance at the slave and the blond human boy; there's a faint twitch in his face that shows irritation, and he turns to Hazem. "I call you a jester for your ridiculous antics, Hazem."
Hazem makes a pouty face and sticks his tongue out at Garavel (when he's not looking, of course)
Realizing he was supposed to be doing something, Marketus yips slightly, and then simply opens each waterskin and casts Create Water into them, filling them instantly. He smiles as he does it and looks at Hazem. "You are rather funny, even if you don't mean to be. And where I come from Jesters and bards are treated with respect!" He then glances over at Alfred, and his eyes widen. "Is that...is that a scorpion thats as big as ME?!"
"But.. I'm NOT a jes.. oh, nevermind... "
Hazem is about to give up when he sudden turns
"and I don't sing!"
"I would have thought you would be used to it by now, Hazem. Your father tended to take advantage of that label to catch people off guard. Perhaps you can learn to do the same. And yes, Mark, Ruven is a scorpion. She would be the teeth and claw portion I mentioned earlier, while I provide the magic. Don't worry, she's fine as long as you don't threaten me or I don't give the necessary command word."
Hazem takes on a surprisingly serious look, "how did.. how did you know my father? He didn't strike me as the adventuring sort at all.."
"And he wasn't, but for that matter, neither was I until fate made me one. I was fortunate, or unfortunate depending your point of view, of being out of town when the deathblow came, and had to adapt. A lot of good folk died that day, and I intend to avenge their death and remember their spirits by rebuilding. And yes, I knew your father, and Khasul's father as well, though I tended to stay away from him; he had a way of playing with sharp objects and getting mad easily at the same time. I also knew Sidhrin's family, though Sihdrin was moving around enough that he probably can't remember anyone specific, like me."
The man known as Khasul cleared his throat a moment. He had been listening intently, and noting how people had been reacting.
"Yes, well, I recall only my father in his few moments we had before I was forced to retreat. I, too, am from Kelmarane, and as my name is Khasul al-Rasad, Magus of the Tempest Winds, I will reclaim it and give it new life - just as the desert creatures around us thrive. I welcome any of you to assist me in this lofty goal, of course, unless you also had this idea - in which, the more the merrier."
"Hazem, you seem to be more on-edge than most of us. Calm yourself - you are amongst prepared warriors heading out into the vicious desert of Katapesh. You have nothing to fear, at all."
"Hazem, you seem to be more on-edge than most of us. Calm yourself - you are amongst prepared warriors heading out into the vicious desert of Katapesh. You have nothing to fear, at all."
"I'm on.. edge? I am? I don't.. mean to be.. I'm pretty sure I'm calm.. what.. what makes you think I'm not calm? I'm not scared.. who's scared? Not me. No-sir-ee! I'm just here to hold the camel reins, why would I be scared? Well.. I'm kind of scared of the camels spitting on me.. I guess.. but I don't understand why I'd need warriors for that.."
"Calm down, lad, it'll be easier to handle the animals if you don't radiate fear. They are probably more afraid of Ruven than you, which is why I am keeping Ruven over here until they can get used to her presence."
Yantur has opened his mouth numerous times as people were talking but could never quite seem to get anything out. Finally, he does speak.
"Er, hello...everyone. My name is Yantur...or Yantur "the Sly" if you will. I have neither family nor family name and nicknamed myself "the Sly" as something of a joke based on something my deceased master used to say all the time. Despite the mischevious moniker I have given myself I am actually a wizard. I'm particular to protective magics and have greater ability in that area than others.
I am not from Kelmarane nor have I ever been there but as a slave without a master I have been promised my freedom in exchange for service to the expedtion there. Well, that is, as long as Garavel is satisfied of course.
Oh, and it's a pleasure to meet you all."
Yantur then goes back to whatever task Garavel currently has him doing.
"Calm down, lad, it'll be easier to handle the animals if you don't radiate fear. They are probably more afraid of Ruven than you, which is why I am keeping Ruven over here until they can get used to her presence."
"I don't understand why you people think I'm scared. I'm not scared! Look! The camels are fine!"
..
.
.
.
(the camels aren't fine)
Yantur has opened his mouth numerous times as people were talking but could never quite seem to get anything out. Finally, he does speak.
"Er, hello...everyone. My name is Yantur...or Yantur "the Sly" if you will. I have neither family nor family name and nicknamed myself "the Sly" as something of a joke based on something my deceased master used to say all the time. Despite the mischevious moniker I have given myself I am actually a wizard. I'm particular to protective magics and have greater ability in that area than others.
I am not from Kelmarane nor have I ever been there but as a slave without a master I have been promised my freedom in exchange for service to the expedtion there. Well, that is, as long as Garavel is satisfied of course.
Oh, and it's a pleasure to meet you all."
Hazem pauses to consider what Yantur just said, pursing his lips and knitting his brow in confusion, he says, "Umm.. pardon my asking but.. if.. you're a slave.. but you have no master.. wouldn't that mean.. you're.. not.. a.. slave...?"
Hazem pauses to consider what Yantur just said, pursing his lips and knitting his brow in confusion, he says, "Umm.. pardon my asking but.. if.. you're a slave.. but you have no master.. wouldn't that mean.. you're.. not.. a.. slave...?"
"Ah, well you see my former master was extremely wealthy but also...highly eccentric. Apparently, there was some contention over the distribution of his property, which would include myself. I'm not entirely certain how things all got sorted out as I wasn't privvy to any of that. In any case, Garavel "claimed" me as it were. I confess, I was stunned to be offered my freedom in exchange for my services since I technically would have had little choice anyways." Yantur lowers his voice and leans towards Hazem. "To be honest, I don't think Garavel really wants a slave at all. I think he just needs all the help he can get and though he hasn't been particularly chatty with me about all the details, I'm beginning to understand that this expedition is more important than I first suspected."
"Khasul is right. You are in capable hands. I sincerely hope your family's more positive traits will be shown during the course of our expedition, Hazem. I will trust Mr. Windbottom in his judgement. Do not misuse it."
Yantur eventually arrives with the map he asked for a while ago, and he takes it without thanking; it is clear that Garavel considers Yantur a slave, and slave only. As Hazem expresses confusion, he calls out to all of them.
"Do not be mistaken, Yantur is a slave. His former master died, and he is now the property of the Pactmasters. He is indeed at my, and Princess Almah's mercy in regards of his freedom.
Yantur, get the dried rations from the hovel. Marketus, go help him. One bag for each one of us."
He opens the map and gestures for Alfred to come closer. "Mr. Windbottom, please come here."
Marketus nods at the request, puts the waterskins away, and walks over to Yantur. "Lead the way please!"
Hazem's demeanor turns a little less positive when faced with the reality that the man he's working for sees no issues with slavery, "no one should be a slave..." he mutters under his breath..
Seeing a kindred spirit in the hardships he's had to endure during his life, Hazem gives a knowing nod to Yantur as he turns to tend to the camels, "Don't worry, Yantur.. your time will come..
Alfred goes over to help Hazem with the camels, pulling some snacks out of his pocket and instructing Ruven to stay where she is so as not to frighten them anymore than Hazem already is. "Let me show you how to do it. It really isnt that hard." He says as he gives Hazem some of the treats and shows him how to befriend the camels. He also says under his breath, "Watch the comments on slavery. Like it or not, it is legal, and there is not much that can be done with it. Now the gnoll portion of the equation can be, but that is another discusison entirely."
Hazem readily accepts Alfred's help, although the finer points of handling the animals are clearly lost on him. At the end, he doesn't seem to be better off then before. He is left standing there with camel treats in one hand, and the reins in the other.
"I know it's legal, but that doesn't make it right.. poor Yantur.. "
One of the camels then snatches the treats, nicking Hazem's hand
"what the... OWW!! Hazem gently slaps the camel in the mouth, "BAD CAMEL!!"
The camel responds by spitting in Hazem's mouth
"UUUGHH EEWWW!! That still had some treats in.. actually.. that doesn't taste half bad.."
"Tell you what, go see if Garavel has some other task you might be able to aid with. I will take care of the camels."
"Tell you what, go see if Garavel has some other task you might be able to aid with. I will take care of the camels."
A look of relief washes over Hazem's face, as he hands Alfred the reins, "OK! Here you go! Thank goodness!!"
Hazem turns towards Garavel before suddenly turning back, "Umm.. you don't have anymore of those treats, do you?"
Alfred just looks at Hazem for a moment, tosses him a treat, and chuckles as he comments, "You definitely need a hand to guide you. I thought your uncle was bad when he went for a week without someone looking over his shoulder."
Garavel sighs as the gnome seems to ignore him, but allows Alfred to take the camels. When Hazem turns around for orders, Garavel points to the hovel where Yantur and Marketus are headed. "Be useful. Go help them get the supplies."
Garavel sighs as the gnome seems to ignore him, but allows Alfred to take the camels. When Hazem turns around for orders, Garavel points to the hovel where Yantur and Marketus are headed. "Be useful. Go help them get the supplies."
Hazem turns happily and runs towards Mark and Yantur. "Hey Guys! Wait up! I get to help you guys!! I bet you are better company than those stinky camels!!"