Seekers for Hire: the IC thread

[Mordae]

Hot.

That's the best way to describe the streets of Joakalavi, jewel of the Central Desert and trade capital of the shattered Imperium. The relentless sun burns high in the cloudless azure sky, pounding down on weary travelers like the glowing anvil-hammer of the gods. The sands underfoot are blistering, and the dust-choked heat winds are searing. Most who frequent this part of the world keep their head, face, and hands wrapped in gossamer bands of cloth, leaving only narrow eye slits through which they can glimpse their sun-baked surroundings. Greetings are exchanged by way of polite gestures and body movements meant to convey respect--for indeed, all who willingly dwell in such a hostile environment should be worthy of respect. Color denotes rank in the wordless world; scarlet for the nobility, mustard for the merchant princes, white for the priests of the Faith, brown for the common folk, and black for the women.

Inside one of Joakalavi's many cafes, the near darkness is blessed relief from the light and heat outside. A central fountain bubbles and froths, lending moisture to the parched air and providing a quiet tinkle of background noise to accompany conversations. Regulars gather on woven mats around low tables, sipping lukewarm tea and taking turns at the ubiquitous water pipes. Black-clad serving girls--still fully enveloped by their garb and practically invisible in the shadows--move from table to table, serving spiced meats, hummus, and cracker-thin bread to hungry customers.

In a small private room to the back of the main hall, through a curtain of beaded silver, Chanda Vaga waits. It is not his custom to loiter for lessers, but for now, the fat, greasy, balding man is content to lounge on his velvet cushion and smoke languidly, patiently, deeply. His signed invitation, tacked to the message posts near the city's four main wells, would do the walking and talking for him. Certainly there would be plenty to jump at the chance for a well-paid job that would get one's self out of this infernal heat. Despite any potential for danger.

Chanda leans back on his pillow, licking meat juices from his fingers and daintily reaching for his teacup. It was only a matter of waiting...

[4is111]

Zelph loiters in the shadows of the cafe, wear his dark brown robes make him almost as unnoticed at the servant girls.
No one yet. I knew I was the only one crazy enough to answer the old man's ad. I suppose I should get some actual work done while I'm here.
Zelph subtlely extends his open palm, and a few coins subtlely slide out of a passerby's purse, roll a few feet a long the ground and jump into his hand.
And now we wait...

[jebob]

Tarc enters the cafe, sweat-stained and thirsty after an unsucessful hunt. His tunic marks him as a newcomer, although not so new as to forget the prohibition on weaponry. He orders "Something refreshing" from the bartender before finding a mat.

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald strides in, using his halberd as a walking stick. At the door, he taps the sand off of his feet and lowers the brown cloth covering his face. He casts a few cursory glances around, apparently finds nothing of interest, then flags a serving girl down. "Pardon me, my lady. I was directed here for a meeting with a...Chanda Vaga? Would you be so kind as to direct me to him?"

[4is111]

Zelph's ear's perk up at the mention of Vaga's name.
A gorilla? No question muscle will be necessary, but I'd hoped it would be a little more subtle. What kind of simpleton calls a serving wench a lady?

[Crosswinds]

Shortly after Trahald makes his entrance, Tyrus saunters into the cafe. He overhears the other man make his request and decides to wait and follow him once he receives his directions. While waiting, he casually dusts the sand off his clothes, though he makes sure to keep his hood and bandanna up, just in case.

[Mordae]

The serving girl flinches, clearly not accustomed to being directly addressed, and averts her gaze from the questioner. She points with one shaky finger towards the silver bead curtain that obscures the back room to the right of the bar, then hurries off to a table as far away as she can get.

A couple of the nearby patrons notice Trahald's halberd, the curious eyebrows arched at the show of defiance that would certainly earn a flogging--or worse--from the Scorpion Guard were it reported. Their lack of motion towards the door, however, seems to indicate that either they are not inclined to blab to the Guard... or that the thought of returning to the blasted heat has purged all thoughts of righteous civic duty from their minds.

The bartender acknowledges Tarc's order and dispatches a different but equally non-descript serving girl to pour him a wide-rimmed bowl of tea. The girl's dainty bare feet flicker out from under her robe like serpents' tongues as she walks, revealing the silver rings around several toes.

Zelph and Tyrus linger in the dark to the sides of the open arched door, their presences further obscured by the blinding contrast between the white heat outside and the black cool within.

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald smiles graciously at the direction but rolls his eyes, when the serving girl hurries off. He notes the eyebrows being raised at his weapon but just shrugs and makes his way over to the curtained room. After passing through it, he sets his halberd to the side and bows. "Master Vaga, I presume? I am Trahald, an itinerant healer, and received word that you are currently hiring. If you have need of a discreet agent to attach to a group that may need patching up, I am your man." He rises, and although he keeps his posture servile, he then locks a steady gaze on the guy and gestures, asking for leave to sit.

[4is111]

Zelph eagerly waits just outside, eavesdropping.
*snicker*discgreet

[Crosswinds]

Rather than waiting for the other man's audience to be over, Tyrus simply follows Trahald past the curtain, coming face to face with the mysterious petitioner himself. "Not quite what I was expecting." He said, expressing his surprise at Chanda's figure, as well as his lack of guards. Although, thanks to the laws of this city, armed help would probably not be needed if one was simply hiring sellswords to go explore some ruins for him.

"My name is Tyrus Redblade." He said, taking a short bow. "I noticed you are in need of some, shall we say 'extra help?' I'm here to offer my services."

[jebob]

Tarc sips his tea quietly, noting Zelph's prescence.

This looks interesting. Perhaps I could make an easy coin, although the dealer and the lurker look disreputable.

[Mordae]

Chanda shifts his enormous bulk, propping himself on one elbow--an act that causes his rolls of sweaty fat to bulge and press against one another--as he takes a puff from the pipe and looks Trahald and Tyrus up and down. If he has any reaction to the dark-skinned healer's armed presence, he keeps it to himself. He exhales languidly and replies, "Indeed." With his free hand, he gestures at the empty mats on the other side of the table from his velvet couch. He then hangs up his pipe mouthpiece alongside the five others on the ornate hookah, a porcelain masterpiece glazed with intricate artwork and bedecked with semi-precious stones. "Aleeya, please bring our guests some tea." A serving girl, who had been standing so motionlessly behind a corner curtain as not to be seen at all, lightly pads out to the main hall to attend to Chanda's request.

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald manages not to look too startled, when the serving girl poofs out of apparently noplace. He then nods his thanks to Chanda and takes a seat. Once down, he nods a greeting at Tyrus. "Greetings, Master Redblade. Would that be a family name, or one that you have earned for yourself? I am Trahald, by the way, itinerant healer." He raises an eyebrow at Chanda. "And, seeing that neither of us have been sent on our way, I gather that our job may entail some level of danger?"

[Mordae]

Chanda smiles, an expression that stretches his blubbery chin, and fixes his eyes on Trahald. "You gather well enough. Suffice to say that, had I needed a mere serving girl to fetch tea or taback, I would not have advertised in such a manner." He pauses, hooded eyes flicking towards Tyrus, before continuing. "The matter requires a certain level of discretion, of course, and my buyers know that I pride myself in such delicate affairs. The value will not be nearly so good for you, should word of what is sought escape your lips."

[Crosswinds]

Tyrus nods at Chanda's "incentive" to clam up. "I've been down this road before. I can assure you complete discretion. That is, of course, if the 'incentive' is to my liking. He sits down next to Trahald, looking at the prospective employer from behind his hood. "Enough beating around the bush, then. What is it you need?"

[4is111]

I wonder if more money could not be made selling this man's secrets than doing his dirty work. He should count himself lucky I'm not in this for the money.

[Mordae]

Chanda smiles, his deeply hooded eyelids fluttering with tension. He brings his meaty hands together and traces a small, intricate design in the air with a dexterity surprising for such a big man. There is a brief humming sound, but it clears after just a few moments.

From outside the beaded curtain, the room suddenly seems a little quieter. Zelph and Tarc quickly realize it's because they can no longer hear what Chanda is saying, even though his lips are moving and he is gesturing at the two seated at table with him.


Chanda nods to himself with satisfaction, then pulls out a rolled parchment from his wide cloth belt and unfurls it on the table. Traced on the surface in red ink is a large, hexagonally cut gem. "Now, to business. This is the Star of Shaniira, the diadem of the third Imperator, Clevus. Upon his death it was enshrined with his remains in his home city of Cemimus. When the civil war began, the imperial army unearthed the diadem and supposedly transferred it to a nearby fort, to eventually be returned to Tukrael. No record of the Star of Shaniira exists since that date. It is presumed to be lost in or around the Keep of Frostmount Dale, forty leagues west of Cemimus. The Keep itself has been in ruins for centuries, and is not of sufficient strategic value in today's age when Cemimus largely concerns itself with the war on Bekel in the south.

As you can imagine, that sort of item would have immense value to certain persons, even above and beyond the fact that it is a 285-carat perfectly cut ruby. All that is needed is some clever hands to tease it from its hiding place." Chanda leans back slightly, opening his eyes a little wider as he regards his two guests.

[jebob]

Tarc raises an eyebrow, and returns to his tea. Perhaps they would be approachable after their meeting.

[4is111]

Perhaps he is not as foolish as I first thought. No reason to give myself away just yet.
Zelph backs away from the door and continues to loiter.

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald ***** an eyebrow at Chanda's gesture but probably gets the gist of what he was doing. After taking a good, long look at the picture, Trahald leans back and nods appraisingly. "I see! Yes, this would make a man rich beyond his more prudent dreams." He gives Tyrus a sidelong look as he says, "I was never one to dream so...ambitiously, though. How clever would the hands have to be, to retrieve the item? What I mean is, what is preventing any passing traveler from picking it up? Once we know what you'll require from us, it will be easier to negotiate terms for payment."

[Mordae]

"A fair question. An abandoned and unvisited keep could hold any number of dangers. Cemimus has reported no bandit activity, so it is perhaps logical to assume no human force has taken up residence. Wild animals, on the other hand... though with that big axe you are carrying, one would hope that you can fend for yourself in such a situation." Chanda chortles at the jest, then places his hands together. "The last possibility is this: the Keep was once an Imperial garrison, and as such there could be--defenses. Golems, I mean, the stuff of legends really. With the place being abandoned, it's hard to say whether there might be any of these things that haven't been destroyed or deactivated in accordance with the Treaty of Chaetril."

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald makes no attempt to hide his reaction to the idea that golems might be there. He "Whew!"s and chuckles nervously. "Well, now that I think of it, your notice clearly didn't seem directed at the faint of heart! Unless I am mistaken, it'll take a lot more than my halberd and Master Redblade here to handle a keep defended by golems."

He gathers his wits a bit and shrugs. "But I am sure that we can stay in the city for a bit. More will doubtlessly be interested in this. For our fee, considering that we are all taking great risks - you, in selling the item, we, in retrieving it - I believe that splitting the profits down the middle would be fair. Plus expenses, of course. And you wouldn't happen to have a map of the area, would you?" Trahald waits patiently for an answer but is, of course, steeling himself for a good bout of bargaining.

[Mordae]

One greasy eyebrow shoots up on Chanda's sweat-dappled forehead. "Fifty? Your risk is great, to be sure, but I must sell this thing to powerful men who would as soon slit my throat as pay me a reasonable wage. And this concern for 'expenses' seems like an open-ended invitation into my coffers; I have my own expenses to pay, you certainly can understand! If you must have an advance, it will come out of your share--ten percent, split between you both."

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald barks a laugh and waves his hands in a conciliatory manner. "Ha! Alright, so we can both admit to having a weakness for jokes, then." More soberly, "Twenty-five percent, with expenses paid. And we won't ask for much, on our way out, at least. Mounts, routine supplies, all things merely in the interest of expediency, of course."

[Mordae]

Chanda smiles. "You have yourself a deal. My servants will give you each fifty pieces of silver to start off with, and provide you with a map. I shall await your return here... there's not much point moving about in this blasted heat." He absently dabs at the sweat on his forehead, ignoring the fact that his bare arms, shoulders, and chest are glistening with an oily sheen.

Tyrus and Trahald step out of the back chamber, the clinking of beads announcing their return as the host ends his mystic handiwork.

[4is111]

That was quicker than expected.
Zelph waits for Tyrus and Trahald to leave the cafe.
Then he enters Chanda's chamber.
"Ahoy Squire! I hear ye be looking for a few strong backs for a dangerous job. If ye be needing someone to risk life and limb for a spot of booty, ye won't find one near as salty as I."

[jebob]

Tarc downs his tea, and follows Zelph into the room.

"I also have heard you will need a hand, although I am cautious as to the nature of this venture.

I am a fair shot with a bow, and I can read the wilderness better than any scholar can read a book."

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald bows, thanks the man, picks up his halberd, and walks out with Tyrus. "Quite an agreeable employer, eh? I figure that we'll be in town for a bit, waiting on others to sign up for this little adventure. No doubt, he can find us to tell us when we'll be moving out. Care to help me find a horse? I've always wanted one of my own. You?" Once they're someplace where he figures they won't be overheard. "So, do you know anything about this keep or the area it's in? Or golems? How would we even take down something like that? Argh! I should have asked for more!"

[Mordae]

Chanda's eyes widen as the newcomers arrive in his little sanctum. "You are perhaps moments too late, gentlemen, for I have just sent the two before you already on the task for which I have sought assistance. Perhaps, if they are willing, you could join them for some portion of their share." He crosses his sweaty, plump arms across his chest, the fingers of his left hand unconsciously reaching for his mouthpiece on the ornate water pipe that stands at the center of his low table.

[Crosswinds]

Tyrus nods at Trahald's first comment. "Indeed, a mount would make our journey that much easier." Then, in response to his second, he shook his head. "Only rumours, and I doubt the ramblings of drunks will help us when combating creatures, not of flesh and blood, but of machinery and stone." Crossing his arms, the mercenary appears deep in thought, though whether his face gave it away was anyone's guess. "For the moment, perhaps we should see about getting supplied. We can't let his 'generous' offer go to waste, after all."

[4is111]

"Those two lubbers who just left? They haven't a chance. I'd wager the price of the reward that if this guy be half the outdoorsman he claims to be that the two of us could get whatever it be that you be looking for before those scurvey dogs can."

[jebob]

"Also, no venture is without risk. Extra help deserves extra payment. Regardless of whether we do the job in pairs or in a group."

[Mordae]

Tyrus and Trahald head to the marketplace to track down the supplies they need. The central market is a bustling sea of tents, perpetually enveloped by a cloud of thick dust kicked up by all the procurers and purveyors exchanging money and goods. Finding a mount is a matter of following one's nose to the strong, pungent scent of manure. The horse pens are near the north end of the market, nestled within a larger enclosure of general livestock--including pigs, cows, chickens, goats, and sheep.

----

Chanda chortles at the jest. "That may be true, but your prize will be no greater for the effort. As for risk and reward, I will leave that to you to balance. Four would have a better chance of success to be sure, and is not survival its own reward?" He takes the pipe and inhales a long drag, eyeing Tarc and Zelph carefully. "Twenty-five percent, split evenly among you. Whether you join up with the others is none of my concern."

[4is111]

"Bull ****. Survival be not a reward; we already have survival. We be alive. Survival be a risk. Ye be mad if ye think we gonna be sharing a shilling with those other buffons. If ye're not interested, then just say so, but don't try to feed use some crap like that."

[Mordae]

Chanda shrugs, his bulbous arms jiggling from the motion. "Suit yourself. I needn't be bothered with unreasonable men." He takes another puff from the hookah and exhales languidly, looking over to Tarc as if to determine whether his attitude mirrors that of the brusque sailor.

[jebob]

"What my neighbour lacks in skill of speech, he makes up for with reason. No man, especially not a Longstrider such as myself, will fight and die for another man's leftovers."

[Mordae]

"Leftovers. An interesting word, conveying a sense of entitlement." Chanda fixes each of his guests in turn with an earnest gaze, lingering for just a moment before speaking again. "I have already determined the price I am willing to pay for this effort. Should the two of you succeed and return with what I desire, you can claim that price for yourselves. I would not have sent the others out unless I felt them equal to the task, and I see no reason to pay more for four when two are sufficient." He pauses and then asks in a less strident tone, "Now, are you in, or are you out?"

[4is111]

"Right, me beef was that the way ye worded it, everyone got a quarter reguardless of who did the actual work. No one's asking ye ti pay more, I be just asking ye to pay me instead. I hope we can agree to this."

[Mordae]

Chanda spreads his hands. "I would never pretend to interfere in the division of wealth among honest co-workers. But it would be disappointing, in some regard, to not have your talents available should other employment opportunities arise. Good help is hard to find these days."

He takes another lungful of smoke before repeating the mission to Tarc and Zelph.

[4is111]

"Then we have a deal. I'll bring ye this rock, and then the booty is ours. Tarc, lets see if ye be as good a tracker as ye claim."

[jebob]

"An interesting offer. I presume that you have contacts in Cemimus we can give the gem to and recieve payment from?"
Fixed.

[TruorTupnm]

After buying a packhorse and an ox cart, and after Tyrus buys whatever he's going to buy, Trahald finds a spot of shade to shelter in. He looks over the map they were given, then turns to Tyrus. "So, how long would you like to stay in Joakalavi? With this guy paying our expenses, we could just stay until he finds enough people for his errand. While that might be tempting, I'd actually prefer not to waste what goodwill we have. How would you feel about starting off on our own, and telling Chanda that we'll wait up for any stragglers before we get into any real digging, at the site?"

He paced around, while thinking out loud. "Hmmm... But it's always safer to travel in large groups. He would have mentioned any rival groups looking for this thing, when we asked about the dangers, but there are always just everyday bandits. Waiting here would spur him on to hire more hands as soon as possible. Or we could wait just outside of town and intercept any new hires. What do you think?"

[Crosswinds]

Tyrus takes advantage of Chanda's advance and sets himself up with a decent-sized horse and a few trail rations. "Didn't seem to be much in the way of interest. I'd just as soon get on the road. Who knows how long we'd have to wait for more people? Plus, knowing nobles, he's probably got multiple parties looking for it, just in case one or more get pulped by those golems. No, I think we'd best head out at the earliest opportunity."

[Mordae]

Chanda shakes his meaty head. "It's best there be no chance this item be seen in any of the imperial pretenders' cities, where a buyer might decide to show up for the exchange with an army instead of the silver. Return it here, and I will arrange for your payment."

[4is111]

"Alright, well matey, I suppose we ought t' find those other folk and shake our share of the down payment from them."

[jebob]

"Fair enough. Do you know where the others have gone before we trek all over Joaklavi looking for them?"

[Mordae]

Chanda smiles and demurs. "If I were them, I would have gone to find mounts in the marketplace, and then left town via the east gate. If you hurry, perhaps you can catch them. Or pass them, if that is your intent."

[4is111]

Zelph turns and leaves. He hurrys to try to find the other half of the party.
Halberd... halberd... that thing ought to be sticking several feet above the crowd. Where is it?

[jebob]

Tarc runs to the marketplace, and searches for them there. If they aren't there, he'll buy a horse.

[Mordae]

Tarc heads to the marketplace, failing to find the already-departed due but finding the livestock pens. He purchases mounts to ease the travel.

Zelph runs ahead, catching a glimpse of a halberd-armed man sitting atop an ox cart under a bevy of palm trees just outside the east gate.

Trahald looks over the map. It seems a fairly straightforward journey along the main caravan trail leading northeast from Joakalavi toward Cemimus. The high central desert gives way to rolling plains as the route nears the coast; rather than continuing along the easier road, however, the fastest way to the ruined keep is to cut north along the edge of the rocky hills, intersecting the mountainous pass that leads from Cemimus to Vaikus along the foot of the Frostmount.

[jebob]

Tarc will start heading to the east gate with the two horses, keeping an eye out for everyone else.

[4is111]

"Avast! Ye, wi' the pole axe! Master Vaga thoutht you scruvy dogs might need a little help on this one, so he sent me and another one to assist ye.

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald looks up from the map and greets them, as they arrive. He probably raises an eyebrow at Zelph's sailor talk but doesn't call attention to it. "Ah, good! My companion wanted to head out sooner rather than later." He introduces himself and Tyrus, then puts the map away. "Is everyone ready? I believe that I have found the fastest route."

[Crosswinds]

Tyrus raises an eyebrow at the two newcomers, but remains silent as to whether or not he's willing to accept their help. He wraps his scarf a bit further around his face, in anticipation of the desert winds. "I was born ready. Those ruins aren't going to explore themselves, after all."

[4is111]

"Yaaar. We best set sail while the wind be at our backs."

[Mordae]

Tarc catches sight of his sailor "friend" talking with Trahald and Tyrus; it's pretty easy to spot the halberd sticking up from atop the hitched ox cart, even in the shadow of the big date palms.

As the group examines the map, Tyrus notices a patrol of green-garbed Scorpion Guards coming out of the gate. Aside from the distinctive color, the shine from the gleaming bronze-handled scimitars each has belted at his side are a pretty unusual sight in the largely weaponless desert city. The four men begin to fan out through the loose crowd outside the gate, clearly looking for something--or someone.

[Crosswinds]

"Looks like the guard is about." Tyrus says, gesturing to the crowd. "I pity the poor sap they're after, I'll tell you. The Joaklavi guard is known for their...'enthusiasm.' I say we leave now before we get caught up in whatever mess they're going to inevitably cause."

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald watches the guards suspiciously, wondering to himself. "I'm already out of the city, and I don't remember doing anything so bad that they'd chase after me." His suspicious gaze lands on his companions. "Ah. Maybe it was one of them. Either way..." He nods at Tyrus, then, from his horse that's ready to go, urges the others to get moving, "Sounds good, to me. Shall we go? On the way, we can guess at why the guard is poking around."

[jebob]

Tarc introduces himself, and thinks nothing of the approaching guards.

"Once I get the darn horse going in the right direction, we'll ride."

[4is111]

If I keep my head downthey won't see me.

[Mordae]

The four seekers mount up and move out along the caravan road leading towards Cemimus, leaving the Scorpion Guard to their search. The road is hot, long, dusty, and for the most part barren of any signs of life. Rocky outcroppings provide occasional respite from the relentless sun, but the bulk of the time is spent out in the open. The sunset is a brilliant crimson stain on the western horizon, and the twin moons--one bright and full, the other a waxing crescent--are clearly visible to the northeast.

As night comes, the seekers come to the top of a hill and see the road leading down into a rock-walled chasm, about thirty feet wide and fifty feet deep. There are two bridges nearby: the first, a stone edifice that must date from the Imperial period, has crumbled away due to lack of maintenance; the second, a rope-and-timber construct, appears worthy but is not wide enough for the ox cart and perhaps not stable enough for the horses. The path down to the bottom of the chasm is a wide ledge cut into the face of the cliff, marked by a couple of switchbacks but otherwise not a difficult trek. The chasm extends to the horizon in both directions, zigging its way across the high desert plateau like an ancient river that has long ago dried up.

[TruorTupnm]

Unless the map clearly indicates the results of this search, Trahald asks that someone ride along the edge of the chasm in one direction, while he takes the other, looking down to see if there are any ledges for climbing back out of the chasm. If they don't find any, and this place is not too far from their goal, he'll suggest hiding the cart, distributing the supplies, then attempting to carefully cross the rope bridge. If they're nowhere near their goal, he'll suggest flipping a coin to decide which way to travel along the bottom of the chasm and hoping for a path back up, at some point.

[Mordae]

There's enough light to see signs of travel down the ledge, indicating that at least some travelers with carts or wagons pass this way on a regular basis. There's not enough illumination at the bottom of the chasm, which is shadowed by the setting sun, to determine which way the "road" goes from there.

OOC: If one of you happened to come to Joakalavi from Cemimus, you may have traveled this way with a caravan and know which way to go. Otherwise, you'll have to get a lot closer to the bottom (or wait until morning) to make that determination.

[4is111]

"Thar stone be not going anywhere. I say we rest here, and continue in the morn."

[jebob]

Tarc offers to scout the bottom of the ravine on foot to find if the cart can pass down safely.

[TruorTupnm]

When Zelph said that the stone wasn't going anywhere, Trahald muttered, "We can hope..." At his suggestion to spend the night here, Trahald nodded. Seeing that the ledge down is well-traveled, he declines Tarc's offer of scouting ahead, saying, "No, no. It is getting late, and I am certain that we shall be able to find our way, in the morning. It would be best to wait here, until then. We have a clear view of our surroundings. This would be a bad place for bandits to attack." He dismounted and started looking for a comfy spot of dirt to sleep on. "So, who wants first watch?"

[Crosswinds]

Tyrus shakes his head at Tarc's request. ''I agree with Trahald. We'll all go in the morning." At Trahald's question regarding watch, he unsheathes his sword and sets up by the Ox cart. "I'll take first watch, the rest of you get some sleep. We have nothing but more grueling travel across this thrice-damned desert ahead of us." Without waiting for a response, he drives his sword into the sand and looks at the others. "No objections, i hope?"

[4is111]

"None here. I'll be taking second watch then."

[Mordae]

The group beds down in a sandy area not far from the crevasse. Tyrus dutifully watches the moonlit desert for hours, observing the stars move in their courses through the black sky. There are numerous scuttling insects and the occasional snake, barely visible on the pale sand and rocks, but these little predators give the much larger animals a wide berth as they go about their nightly feeding rituals. In the distance, the occasional hoot of a coyote can be heard echoing through the sun-blasted wasteland.

As it comes time for the changing of the watch, the coyote calls start to become more frequent and closer to camp. The horses stamp nervously, rolling their eyes and whickering to each other.

[TruorTupnm]

Assuming Tyrus, the horses, or the coyote calls themselves wake Trahald up, he'll make sure that everyone else is awake, then ready his bow and try to spot the coyotes.

[4is111]

"This be a waste of time. I doubt some mangy hounds will bother with the likes of us."
All the same, Zelph keeps his hands at his pistols.

[jebob]

Tarc wakes up immediately, and takes his bow from beside him and holds it at the ready.

[Mordae]

Just as Zelph speaks, a quartet of short-haired hounds comes loping over a small rise to the north. They seem curious as to the presence of the horses, and a couple of them start to circle around to the west to get a better look. All four stay about a hundred yards off, not certain enough of themselves yet to close the gap.

[4is111]

"It be those damn horses. They be attracting the wildlife. Two of us ought to go up and kill a few of them to show them we mean buisness while the other two guard the horses back here, says I."

[Crosswinds]

"Have fun." Tyrus calls over to Zeph while simultaneously trying to calm the horses down. "And try not to attract many more of them with the blood and noise. The last thing we need is the whole damn pack dropping on us."

[TruorTupnm]

Seeing that the coyotes are hesitant, he says to Tyrus, "I might just be able to scare them off. Try not to let the horses bolt." He lowers his bow and attempts to cast a lightning bolt at one of the coyotes.

Attack (1d6 + Mage attribute +2, for the Thaumaturgy skill versus DL 7) ---> [roll0] Damage ---> [roll1]

[Mordae]

The sky suddenly flashes with a brilliant blue, as arcane energy leaps from Trahald's fingertips and sizzles across the gap separating the seekers from the coyotes. The unfortunate victim yelps one last time before its smoking, twitching corpse falls lifeless to the yielding sand of the desert. There is a sullen crack of thunder that echoes a fraction of a second later, causing the horses to stir and stammer fearfully.

Tyrus Warrior+Riding check to handle animals: [roll0]

[Mordae]

Tyrus manages to keep a grip on the reins, and the picketed animals are calmed enough not to burst their lines. The other three coyotes take off into the darkness, howling and hooting in fear.

[4is111]

"Bugger, I never pegged ye as a wizard. The rest of you lot, get some shut eye. This next watch be mine."

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald "Phew!"ed, watched the rest of the coyotes run off, then gave Zelph a modest smile. "I am just an itinerant healer. Lightning is sometimes useful for us to control." He trotted up to the corpse and sniffed. "Hmmm... I will try to get back to sleep. Be sure to tell me if there is any good meat left on this."

[Mordae]

The rest of the night passes uneventfully. The air becomes quite cool overnight, and even as the sun breaks over the horizon the desert sands are far from regaining their blistering midday temperatures. The rocky gorge to the east is still entirely in shadows, and looks like it will remain so except for a few hours at midday.

The coyote carcass is tough and stringy, as much from its scavenger's nature as from the lightning that seared it to death.

[jebob]

"That was some nice fireworks going on there, Trahald!

The way I see it, we have two choices. Either we try and make good progress while the day remains cool, or we wait for the sun to light up the gorge."

Tarc also has a look at the coyote corpse.

Searching for lewt: [roll0] d6+ 6(rogue) and +2 from Hunting. I'm not sure if talents can give a +2, so dock me two points if I'm wrong.

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald bobs his head graciously at Tarc's compliment. Of course, he's also got an aloof smirk plastered to his face. He then takes a look down into the gorge. "We still have a long way to go, beyond this obstruction. We might as well get as much travel in as we can, today. In a spot like this, people can be ambushed at any time of day, I'm sure."

[4is111]

"Aye, we best get moving."

[Crosswinds]

"Indeed. The desert is a cruel mistress once the sun rises proper." Tyrus says. "And before long the brigands will be out. We'd best make our way down the canyon so we don't end up fighting on disadvantageous ground."

[Mordae]

The group elects to head out immediately. Packing up camp, the four load their goods into the cart and begin guiding the horses down the ledge. It's not terribly steep, but there is a rather precipitous drop from one switchback to the next. The horses do their best to keep as close to the rock wall as possible, needing no encouragement from their owners. The trickiest part is turning the ox cart at each bend, but Trahald is able to manage it.

The shadowed bottom of the ravine is strewn with loose rocks and sand, and there are a number of little outcroppings that make for difficult going. Fortunately, there are numerous signs of the "road"--discarded articles, wagon ruts, and the occasional bone from a dead animal--leading north along the canyon floor. Just how far is difficult to say, for the gradual bends of the ancient waterway are enough to obscure sight more than a hundred yards in either direction.

It is midday, with the sun directly overhead and flooding the crevasse with light, when an arrow zings in unexpectedly. It lodges in the cart not two feet from where Trahald is sitting. "You there!" a rough voice calls from somewhere above. "Leave your goods and your animals, and we will let you live!" The speaker cannot be seen amid the dazzling sunshine that blots out all but the grossest details of the rocky walls to the left and right.

[4is111]

"Arrr! Ye listen t' this, ye scurvey dogs! You leave us all your goods and animals and we'll let you live!'

[TruorTupnm]

Although he'd have been riding with his weapons within easy reach, Trahald immediately raises his hands in surrender. At Zelph's counteroffer, though, he, "Erk!"s and shoots the guy an incredulous look. Whispering, while scanning the area for the shooter ---> "Are you sure this is wise?" Aloud, quickly, and nervously, to the unknown speaker ---> "Don't shoot! I'm just a healer! These others are heavily armed and quite dangerous, though, so you will likely lose men, if you try anything."

[jebob]

Tarc notches an arrow, and tries to hit their arrow where it lies.

[roll0]
EDIT: that'll probably knock the arrow off, won't it? Conisdering I'm probably not that far away.

"Don't hunt what you can't kill. Go find some easier prey."

[4is111]

"I fear no coward who hides behind the blindin' light of the sun, and even if there be any bite to the lilly livered land lubber's threat, we still ought to kill him, on principle if nothing else."

[Mordae]

Tarc's arrow neatly splits the one embedded in the wagon bench, but the speaker laughs, sounding unimpressed. "Have it your way! Don't hit the horses, boys, they'll fetch good money!"

There is a scrabbling of rock from the left side of the crevasse, indicating some movement; falling pebbles reveal there's some action both in front of and behind the cart. Four arrows fly in from above, but aside from one that bounces off the ox cart, none of them find a mark.

(OOC: sorry for the delay, life caught up with me a bit.)

[jebob]

Tarc dives for cover behind the cart.

No problem. C'est la vie, after all.

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald ducks, as the arrows zoom in. As soon as the volley is over, he gets as high on his horse as he can, trying to pinpoint any of the shooters. If the arrows obviously came from behind some rock that he wouldn't be able to peer or over something, he'd try to get Tarc's and Zelph's attention, then motion for them to sneak ahead or behind them, to flush the bandits out. Whether they pay attention to him or not, he hunkers down behind the wagon, waiting for a bandit to make himself a target for his lightning. In the meantime, he yelps, "But don't you know that healers are worth so much more?!"

[4is111]

"Let's kill 'em all!"
Zelph dives under the cart and draws his pistols, ready to fire as soon as a target presents itself.

[Mordae]

(OOC: Crosswinds, you still here?)

The wagon provides cover from the far side of the canyon, but two more arrows coming zinging in from the near side, one at Tyrus and the other at Tarc.


Rogue 5 vs Tyrus DEF 10 [roll0] Damage: [roll1]
Rogue 5 vs Tarc DEF 11 [roll2] Damage: [roll3]


The first arrow misses, but the second grazes Tarc across the top of his left shoulder.

There is more scrabbling of rock, and two scimitar-wielding bandits arrive at the bottom of the crevasse, one in front of the horses and another behind the wagon.

[TruorTupnm]

Scimitars? Where are the bowmen? Well, maybe we can at least scare them off. Hoping to at least scare a bowman by hitting one of the swordsmen before he gets too far away, Trahald goes for the one coming from the front.

Attack ---> [roll0] Damage [roll1]

[4is111]

Zelph turns and fires at the bandit behind the cart.
[roll0]

[jebob]

Tarc fires at the one in front.

Attack: [roll0] Damage: [roll1]

EDIT: oops, forgot the +2 for damage. So its a total of 6 damage.

[Mordae]

Tarc's arrow streaks past Trahald and tags the bandit blocking the wagon's progress. The healer's halberd comes down moments later, crushing the cutthroat's ribcage with a mighty slash.

Zelph's shot at the trailing bandit misses the mark. Tyrus charges the man, bringing his sword across in a quick slash that the bandit can't quite parry; blood seeps through the cut in his left arm.

The bandits return fire, but for the most part their arrows fall wide. One manages to draw a good bead on Trahald, and the healer feels burning pain as an arrow lances through his right hip.

The bandit at the back brings his scimitar around, but Tyrus quickly blocks the attack with his own sword. The ring of steel on steel echoes down the canyon as the scale-armored warrior sets his feet to attack again.

Status: Lead bandit is down. Trail bandit takes 3 damage. Four archers above, undamaged. Trahald takes 2 damage.


Tyrus W4 vs Bandit 10: [roll0]
Bandit R5 vs Tarc 11: [roll1]
Bandit R5 vs Trahald 7: [roll2]
Bandit R5 vs Zelph 8: [roll3]
Bandit R5 vs Tyrus 10: [roll4]
Bandit W3 vs Tyrus 10: [roll5]

[4is111]

"Damn it, doctor, ye be no good to patch us up if ye die!"
Zelph takes another shot at the bandit still standing.
Hit:[roll0] Damage:[roll1]

[jebob]

Trahald takes cover behind the horses, and fires upwards into the light.

for [roll]2d6b1+2 damage

[jebob]

EDIT: It seems I can't do b1 and +2 in the same roll. So.. [roll0]+2

All things considering, a 9 isn't likely to hit :P

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald grimaces at Zelph's instruction and thinks, I'm not happy about the situation, either! to himself. He spits on the body of the bandit they killed, then uses the rocks as cover as he inches past them, attempting to find some shooters. If he can't spot them, and they're still able to shoot at him, he'll duck down and probably just continue trying to find them, on the next round. If he spots one, he'll try to shoot the guy with a lightning bolt, while using cover.

Awareness (should I even be trying this? I got a 10, the last time I tried, but still couldn't spot them) ---> [roll0] Attack ---> [roll1] Damage ---> [roll2]

[Mordae]

Tyrus continues his fancy sword-play, nicking the scimitar-wielding bandit who looks panicked. Before he can flee, though, Zelph's shot lances in and blasts him through the ribcage. He flails and falls to the ground.

Arrows come raining down from above, and this time every one scores a hit. Tarc and Zelph are sheltered by the cart and only take glancing shots, but Trahald and Tyrus are out in the open and take bolts to the chest.

The wound is painful, but it gives Trahald the information he needs: where the shooter is. He looks up and, seeing a glint of metal, blasts the spot with a bolt of lightning. There is a cry, and the sound of a man falling to his death on the rocks below.

"Concentrate your fire on the wizard!" shouts the bandit leader from above.

Status Update: Trail bandit down. One archer down; three remaining. Tarc takes 1 damage. Zelph takes 2 damage. Tyrus takes 5 damage. Trahald takes 5 damage.

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald grabs his wound and, "Ulp!"s. If dropping flat behind the rocks would keep him safe from arrows for a bit, he'll do that, then use Healing Hand. If not and if he'd be able to dive under the cart in one turn, he'll do that. If not, he'll just slump behind his partial cover and use Healing Hand.

Attack? ---> [roll0] Healing ---> [roll1]

[jebob]

Tarc searches for the marksmen, using the arrows as a guide to their position.

(spot check) [roll0]

[4is111]

Zelph curls up under the wagon, hoping to avoid further fire, and reloads one of his pistols.

[Mordae]

Tarc and Zelph curl up under the wagon as Trahald dives to join them. Three arrows zing past the healer as he calls upon his magical power to recover from the nasty shot he took moments before.

Tyrus is the only one out in the open, and now that he sees where the archers are hiding he starts to climb the rocks on the east side of the chasm. "Come down here and fight, you cretins!" he challenges the three remaining archers.

It's quite difficult to see where the archers are hidden while the seekers are taking complete cover from the wagon.

[4is111]

Zelph reloads his other pistol.
"Get down here, Tyrus! They being having a clear advantage as long as the sun be directly behind them. We ought to wait until the heavens favour us once agian."

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald hisses at the others under the wagon, "Care to try surrendering now? We may be able to surprise them. If we're too proud for that, I suggest that we wait for Tyrus, then try to rush past them, on the horses. Catch them from behind, if we can. Keep running, if we can't."

[jebob]

"We can't sit still here, they'll set fire to the wagon."

Tarc rolls out from under the ladder, drawing his dagger. He begins following Tyrus up the cliffface

[Mordae]

Zelph finishes reloading while Trahald pleads for a strategic approach. Tarc, however, has had enough of hiding and rushes out to join Tyrus.

The bandits seem surprised that their prey is now chasing them, and their arrows all fall wide. Tyrus reaches the bandit closest to the canyon floor and swings his sword, narrowly missing.

Tarc and Tyrus can see from their current position that the bandits are spread out. The one that Tyrus is fighting is about fifteen feet above the floor, on a small ledge. The second one is another ten feet up, but the way is steep and would require a tricky climb (Acrobatics 9). The third one is another twenty feet up, near the top, and appears to be positioned near the mouth of a small cave.


Rogue 5 vs Tyrus 10: [roll0] [roll1]
Rogue 5 vs Tarc 11: [roll2] [roll3]
Rogue 5 vs Tarc 11: [roll4] [roll5]
Tyrus W4 vs Bandit 10: [roll6] [roll7]

[jebob]

"Aha! A clean shot!"

Attack:[roll0] against the second bandit. Damage: [roll1] +2 for 8 damage EDIT: exploding die results in 4 more damage. (see the OOC thread)

[TruorTupnm]

As Tarc leaves the wagon, Trahald blinks with surprise and wonders, "They wouldn't burn the wagon, would they?" Remembering that they tried to kill him, though, he sighs and leaves the cover of the wagon, looking for a rock to hide behind. If he can find one with a view of Tyrus and the bandit he's fighting, he'll shoot a lightning bolt at the guy. If not, oh well.

Attack ---> [roll0] Damage ---> [roll1]

[4is111]

OOC: Now I've lost track of which bandits are where.
Zelph rolls out from under the wagon and shoots at something:
Hit:[roll0] Damage:[roll1]

[Mordae]

(OOC: As of the end of last round, there are only the three bandit archers remaining, positioned up the side of the canyon as I described. The two swordsmen and one archer on the ground have been killed.)

Zelph rolls out from under the wagon and shoots up, but his bullet carroms off a rock and harmlessly away from the bandit near the top of the canyon. Eagle-eyed Tarc drops his dagger and takes aim at the middle bandit; his bow-string twangs, and the arrow zips upward to catch the man right between the eyes. He cries out and topples backward, falling down the rocky slope to his death.

Tyrus raises his sword, death in his eyes, as the bandit archer before him fumbles for his belt dagger. Suddenly, a blast of lightning comes in from Trahald's fingers, searing the bandit into convulsions. He collapses to the ledge and croaks to the swordsman, "Have mercy!" Tyrus sets the point of his blade to the bandit's throat, a silent command not to move.

The last archer fires a parting shot at Tarc before stepping back into the darkness behind him; the arrow careens well wide, for it was poorly aimed.


Bandit R5 vs Tarc 11: [roll0] [roll1]

[TruorTupnm]

Seeing the last bandit run into the cave, Trahald gives the wall of rocks a doubtful look, then waves Tarc and Zelph up there. "That looks like it'll be a bit of a climb, for me. We'll see about joining you, after we've had a word with our new friend." He grins wolfishly as he makes his way over to Tyrus and the collapsed bandit. Keeping some distance between himself and the bandit, he levels his halberd at the guy. "Now, you've given us every reason to kill you, but, if you can demonstrate that you can be useful to us, we might reconsider."

[4is111]

Zelph hangs back with the wagon in case more bandits are hiding and reloads his pistol.

[jebob]

"We can't take him back to Joaklavi, although the Scorpion Guard might be interested if he's unhelpful. We could kill him, but if he gives us enough useful information I think we could let him go" metions Tarc to Thrahald (loudly enough so the prisoner can hear of course).

[raithane]

Tyrus nods his agreement

[Mordae]

(OOC: Sorry guys, busy day at work followed by staying at home with a sick kid.)

The bandit tries to squirm away from the blade just a bit, but starts talking all the same. "We're just highwaymen, yeah? Animals are worth a lot of money out in the desert. You let me go, I'll take you up to our hideout and we can off the boss--he's not much of a leader anyway, you see where he got us. Must be a couple hundred pieces of silver up there."

[TruorTupnm]

Trahald sets his halberd and nods agreeably. "That's very useful of you!" He glances at Tarc and Zelph, then up to the cave. "Was that man shooting at us from up there your boss? Or has he just been warned that we're coming?"

[jebob]

"A fair question. How many of you are left?"

[4is111]

"This sounds like another ambush. I be all for it."

[raithane]

Tyrus subtly moves his blade a little closer, "Best you speak the truth" Tyrus looks to his companions and smiles, "This ought to be fun"

[Mordae]

The bandit's eyes go wide. "It's all true, I swear it. There's a rope, not ten feet from my head, well-hidden against the rocks. You can use it to climb up and get to the cave." His voice takes on a pleading tone. "Spare me, and I'll serve you a life-debt."