DC's Legacy of Fire I [IC]

[Down Comforter]

It has been a week; A long, dreary week under the scorching sun since you departed the town of Solku in western Katapesh, riding camels loaned to you by your employer You are all here on the instructions of Garavel, a no-nonsense major-domo of a merchant princess awaiting you at some unknown location in the northern scrublands.

In the distant haze to the West, you can just make out the immense outline of Pale Mountain looming over the mid-evening horizon like a tombstone. The quickly cooling air is refreshing after the heat of the day as your camels plod ever onwards.

[Kydell]

Travelling through the desert reminds Bartuc of his childhood. Constantly moving from town to town, stuck between the uncomfortable humps of a camel. Falling asleep to wake up in a new house, in a new city. This time he has his own camel, travelling to an unknown destination. Curious at the meaning of this venture, he is content to go along with it as long as he gets a reward.

He rides in loose clothing with his armor and weapons (minus his serrated Sabre, which always stays strapped to his waist) strapped to the camel. His mantle covers the majority of his face as he listens to his companions to gather information, and find out who these people are. They must be worth their mettle, being summoned alongside himself.

[Zealumieo]

The scenery was nothing new, sand, sand, sand, and that beating sun... Generally Ferina wouldn't give such thing's a moment of her thought, but that offer... freedom. meant she could go somewhere for once. Those far off places her parents had spoken of in stories seemed so much more vibrant in memory now. Before she was a desert creature, biding its time for what little it needed to survive... but now, there was an oasis ahead glimmering and hopeful ahead of her. For all she knew, this was a mirage built up by hope. And it was that jadedness that caused her to expect the worst in defense.

Little expectation glinted behind Ferina's cold brown eyes, the kindest she could put it was that this group was... odd. Overall, her billowy clothing, tightly wound scarf, and well fitted leather accoutrements gave the impression she was suited to survive. Her family heirloom was covetously hidden and protected under her clothing, even whilst riding she always had one hand on her Musket. As of always, her weapon always seemed to suffer around all this sand, it invaded its gaps and stifled its precious powders. But she would gladly feed her weapon blood if it kept it functioning, maintenance was an easy price to pay.

She made an effort to remain nondescript and unnoticed if only for her bland demeanor. Everything other then her weapon were relatively inexpensive, so she didn't bother to hide any other "valuables". Maybe the water, but she was rationing that sensibly.

It was a shame she wasn't fully covered, those dark rings around her eyes tended to peeve some of her old masters as it "ruined" the mystique of her paler skin which made her a "foreign" commodity and thus more valuable. Overall, thsat still didn't matter much to her, they could believe their lies as much as they wished. It always seemed she paid the price for the fickleness of others- the word "fair" was far ripped out of her dictionary, spat upon, and trampled.

Maybe that's why she liked deals... those given and written down were far less often reneged upon then whims. But again, pessimism was a must, she wasn't going to look emotional as she made all of this inner reflection.

[Cathmore]

Salazar's golden eyes constantly scanned the horizon, searching for signs of their destination. A soft smile set on his face that he knew left him approachable, there was no need to warn off his new companions after all.

His thoughts were on Haleen as they crossed the desert, the thought of seeing her again was both terrifying and wonderful. Luckily the group gathered by Garavel seemed a strong and dependable bunch; in the case Haleen had been kidnapped -or perhaps something even more sinister- he hoped these people would be of aid to him. While he wished to punish those who had taken Haleen himself, he knew he was but one man, no matter how skilled.

Normally he was the more boisterous sort, but the open desert calmed his mind and body and left him feeling strangely at ease. Though he grew up in the city, Haleen's love of adventuring had often brought him into the desert and those were the memories he cherished more than any others.

His equipment filled the many pouches and pockets of his loose clothing, as well as the saddlebags on his camel's sides. The camel was his own, unlike the others. He'd been riding for as long as he could remember, and had been learning mounted combat nearly as long, so it stood to reason he would have him own mount. His was a foul tempered beast of a camel named Goa.

Sal sighed in contentment as he brushed his sweaty auburn locks back from his brow, while his reason for being here was a sorrowful one, he found he enjoyed traveling like this.

[Morbis Meh]

The day was sunny and the birds were chirping... or were the birds mosquitoes? Scrag didn't particularily care at the moment he was in the process of reflecting the light of the sun into other camels eye's with the shield. Their groans of protest brought forth an eruption of gwafahs from the dim witted half orc. Scrag bounced gleefully upon the back of Miss Daisy the Third, his camel which he had named himself because it was 'perty and impotent' sounding. Scrag was in a good mood this day he was given all sorts of shinies and made all sorts of new friends though most were silent. Scrag inferned with his vast intellect.... hehehe vast, dat der is a funne word it rhime wit askt and maskt. I know Scrag should make a song wit all da rhimes he can tink of that make da peoples happy, Scrag knows it!

So the beautiful silence of the midday were broken by the rantings and poor vocabulary of Scrag, though to his credit it was at least in tune. After the majority of the people in the caravan had given Scrag a death glare he quickly fell into a defeated silence but quickly forgot what made him sad once he began playing with his new shiny from that man who said it was some sort of glowing compass. Scrag cared not what it actual purpose was for he would not limit his shiny's potential because some man said so, no Scrag imagined it a dragon flying through the desert as he played. As he goofed off he didn't notice his pack opening slowly and the tail end of his rope slowly coming out. Abruptly the tail end smacked him across the head, hard, with a shout Scrag rubs his head and nearly drops his new compass.

"OWWW! Granpa why did you hit Scrag? He just playing quietly to himself! I sorry for drawing a smiley face on you, Scrag thought you was looking sad!" Pouting and even more dejected than before Scrag lowers his head and begins to pet Miss Daisy the Third on the head, at least she was nice to Scrag! The pur from his camel made Scrag giggle (AND YES CAMELS PURR TO SCRAG!) and soon his foul mood passed. A growl erupted from the half orcs stomach and Scrag reached into his pack for some food, with great effort considering the sand got into the joints of the armor making it rather difficult to move around in. As he went forward to grab some food that lay within it suddenly began to move away from his hand. Soon Scrag began to get frustrated "Granpa, stop hiding the food! Scrag said sorry already and Scrag hungry!" Finally it stopped moving and Scrag grabbed onto the food victorious, to celebrated he stuffed it down his face. The other's gave pained looks toward the Half orc but he just returned them with his gapping, toothy smile.

[Zuh1]

Saah'r stared into the distant mountains, the rare cool breeze sending the white linen of his desert robes fluttering. The cloth covered him from head to toe, leaving only his hands and eyes visible. At a distance, he would pace for nothing more than human. But his blue eyes, exposed to the wind and grit of the desert, suggested something else. The whites were in fact a pale near-white blue, like a morning sky, the irises a brilliant azure and the pupils were a deep storm cloud color. His hands, when visible, were also strange, white skin covered in blue spiraling lines that could be tattoos, if they didn't seem to dance and shift whenever the breeze picked up.

During the journey, he had been especially curious about the other travelers. "What brings you on this journey? Where did you learn to ride a camel? Are you a slave as well? How does that rifle work? Where do you come from? What do ratfolk eat? Is your grandfather really haunting your backpack? " and so on, persisting until he either suddenly lost interest or saw that the person would not care to answer any more.

He spoke with the accent of Qadira, the land across the sea, but would change the subject should anyone bring this up. When asked of his own reasons for joining up, he simply stated that a slave does not have reasons of his own. Fortunately, Garavel had not much examined the doctored contract with which he was purchased. Stolen slaves were one thing, but a slave that steals himself only to be sold to a master in Katapesh? The scholar-slaves of Katheer were a rare commodity, and that was all Garavel needed to know before purchasing Saah'r and offering him the promise of freedom.

And though a slave, he seemed constantly to be pushing his mount away from the caravan, like a dog testing the length of his lead. Many times, he would canter to the top of a dune, then stop and take in the breeze and view, as if sight of the horizon were as vital as the waterskin he carried. This was one such moment, and as he looked off into the mountains, the breeze around him seemed to increase. His camel snorted as sand swirled and his robes fluttered. He removed the cloth covering his face, revealing a youngish, handsome face with a short, white beard and skin that exhibited the same strange markings as his hands. He inhaled deeply and then, as if on orders, the breeze around him quelled and he wrapped the cloth back around his face.

[Kydell]

Over the week, the robed wizard had done his fair share of asking questions. No doubt curious about his companions and their journey. Bartuc answers what he can, but does not ask any questions in return. He enjoys the company, and having someone interested in who he is, but prefers to gather his own insights through observation.



"What brings you on this journey?"

Bartuc: "Mine is not to ask. I go where I must to complete a job. That aside, I have been summoned by Garavel."


"Where did you learn to ride a camel?"

Bartuc: "I learned to ride these beasts as a young ratling. My parents were constantly moving, and camel was their favored beast of burden. Long ago, we owned a gigantic rat as our pack animal named templeton. However, when father disappeared, he took templeton as well."


"Are you a slave as well?"

Bartuc:"No."


"Where do you come from?"

Bartuc: "I was Born in El-Fatar. Although, I've spent the most time in Okeno."


"What do ratfolk eat?"

Bartuc: "Heh, heh. Anything" He proves this by opening up one of his pouches to reveal it to be filled with raw meat, of several sources. He then sticks his snout into the pouch and rips out a chunk of flesh and sinew, before happily scarfing it down.

[Zealumieo]

The questions were easy enough to handle for Ferina; Not even a hint of malice was introduced so not a hint of it was returned. Over the week it was comforting, if there was one thing this group didn't do... it was critically judge and analyze. It was easy to like her new companions, her initial misconceptions based on their strangeness were fading as the week went over... though some were still being replaced with new ones.

That said, she still kept to herself... holding watch for as long as she could during nights and being prepared to jump into action if anything occurred. Ferina always made sure to do her part of the work, maybe even more if others had absentmindedly forgotten to... She rather have it done then to chase down Saah'r on his 'scouting' or stop Scrag from working with his misplaced items problem. She wasn't one to offer assistance openly, but if it was near her and she could life a finger to do something, she would. She wouldn't say much as she handed a vagrant item back to Scrag after it had seemingly flown a few feet from him. There wasn't much need to watch Saah'r or Bartuc, despite being of the more mysterious or secretive sort they didn't seem to display any intent to do anything harmful. Salazar didn't seem to invite much in the way of help.

It was odd, she could easily sense something was different from the norm from each of them... and no it wasn't because she felt like the only human-like human one there, well maybe Salazar (he was human)- just the way he carried himself. Confident? That was something rare for her eyes to see, it wasn't fair of her to suppose he was different for that though.

[Cathmore]

Of his companions Sal was already growing fond.

Sal had easily answered any questions about himself, he was proud of the person Haleen had raised him to be, and of the talents he himself possessed, so Saah'r's insistent questioning did not bother him. (He was most proud to speak of where he learned to ride. From his master Hazzad, a former soldier) However, Saah'r's unwillingness to recuperate was admittedly frustrating, was the Elf not proud of his own life?

The ratfolk, Bartuc interested him, he was not used to seeing one of that race, and he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.

Scrag... it was hard to describe the Half-Orc. He seemed to be incredibly dense, though it raised his spirits to see someone holding so much joy in simple things. Every group needed someone to keep them grounded, and Sal figured Scrag could be that for them. Besides, he could tell the Half-Orc could fight, and fight well.

Lastly was the girl. Ferina. She seemed to eye him rather often, with something akin to confusion in her eyes, perhaps she noticed his exotic eyes and something 'off' about his features, the things that marked him as Suli? The way she held herself was as if she wished to disappear, the opposite of the other women he'd known in his life. She looked like someone who needed to be protected, that is until her rifle was in her hands. When she cleaned her weapon the stillness of her hands, and the look in her eyes told him she could hold her own.

[Morbis Meh]

Scrag gives a confused look to strange man in robes "No silly, Scrag's Granpa just haunts Scrag, he likes to play tricks on poor Scrag... I here cuz parents kicked me out, tell me to get a 'jub' so Scrag work for wonderful man named Garavel. Scrag work hard and as reward he get to ride Miss Daisy the Third." he leans in close "She's a racing camel, she tell Scrag this but don't tell anyone..." He shifts his eyes back and forth making sure no one else is listening.

[Kydell]

The ratfolk finds himself consistently entertained by his traveling compatriots. Bartuc had never encountered ghosts, and was fairly skeptical of their existence. However, the half-orc, Scrag, certainly acted a convincing role that one was haunting him. Also, his camel-whispering seemed a bit mysterious, and could be the secret to his successful riding.

The robed wizard was a Pesh addict. Current or former. There was no mistaking that smell. Bartuc was convinced the pesh days must be behind this one, as he hadn't seen him using any. Although he had rode off to the peaks of dunes alone fairly often. At any rate, Bartuc sees this as no threat or factor in the way as peshers were something seen often in Okeno, nevertheless the entire country.

One of the travelers seemed most comfortable on camelback. He and his camel have the same look of both determination and a calm serenity in their eyes. He introduced himself as Salazar, and it was apparent he wasn't entirely human. With the scars on his body he didn't care to cover up, his great armor that must weigh more than Bartuc can carry, and weapons sharpened to razor-sharpness, it was also apparent that he could fight. Bartuc trusted this one more than most. He seems capable, and driven.

The last of his companions is a female human. Reminding him of his mother, and other female ratfolk--who prided themselves the warriors of the race. She showed herself to be strong and willing to fight. She cleaned her gun meticulously and daily. The way she handles her gun is much the same in how Bartuc handles his serrated Sabre. He assumes that much like him, the weapon reminds her of her past life.

Along the way, Bartuc finds himself thinking, I could get used to these people.

[Down Comforter]

As soon as the craggy tree appears over the next hill, it becomes obvious why it is called the Sultan’s Claw. With five immense, mostly leafless branches, the growth looks more like a giant skeletal talon than a thing of living wood.

As you top the last rise, a caravan of a half-dozen wagons and a large tent clustered around the distinctive tree comes into view. Camels in a nearby pen prance in agitation, and a clutch of confused goats and livestock wander the grounds around the wagons. Perhaps a dozen men and women rush around the campsite, chasing down an animal or hastening toward the center of the cluster, near the Sultan’s Claw, with pails of water in their hands.

One of the wagons is on fire! Lush orange and red flames engulf an elaborate wooden wagon emblazoned with painted moons and stars. A gout of smoke pours from an open door, and as you approach an
ill wind blows a number of colorful fortune-telling Harrow cards from inside the wagon. One of the singed cards blows directly at Saah'r, catching against his chest in a burst of orange cinders.

Saah'r
It is the Cyclone, a card which you know to signify a force that tears through whatever it meets at the behest of an intelligent being. The card portends war, arson, and destructive plans.
As the cards blow past, the whole of the Sultan's Claw erupts into brilliant flame.

The central flap of an elaborate tent flies open and a regal woman who can only be Almah steps out into the firelit night. “Douse that flame!” she shouts to the men surrounding the wagon before turning in your direction. “Ah, Garavel!” she says. “And just a moment later than the nick of time, as usual.”

Looking specifically past her major domo and directly at your group, Almah barks out a simple order before running off toward the fire: “Find some way to help!”

Sultan's Claw
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v623/jolsby3689/SultansClaw.png

You can immediately see several ways of which you might be of help:


Almah, Garavel, and four soldiers dressed in the distinctive red chitin-plate armor of the Pactmaster Guard run back and forth between the burning fortune teller’s wagon and an uncovered wagon about 20 feet away. The latter contains a huge barrel that looks to be holding a large amount of water.

Four burly mercenaries struggle with an enclosed wooden wagon within feet of the burning wagon, hoping to move it to safety before an errant spark causes it too to burst into flame.

A grey-haired old man, with the robes of a priest, kneels next to two severely burned mercenaries, both of whom look near death.

A modest collection of pigs, goats, and sheep accompanies Almah’s party on the journey to Kelmarane. The flaming wagon has unsettled these creatures, which somehow escaped from their pen in the confusion surrounding the fire’s outbreak. The middle-aged human camel drivers do their best to wrangle the panicking animals, but their efforts are quickly being overrun by the chaos of the situation.


OOC: Initiative rolls if you would. You're on the clock.

[Kydell]

Bartuc sees the wagon being moved by the mercenaries and tries to help the best he can.

[Zealumieo]

Ferina looked at the mess, and then specifically at the hurried runners going back and forth from the fire to the water barrel, "What a mess..." she grumbled to herself. She ran over to Almah, in haste, trying to match her speed (Picking up a bucket if there is one so that she can help if there is a round she's near the barrel of water), "Tell the men to form a line and pass the buckets. At this rate, we'll all tire out before the fire is put out."

Initiative:
[roll0]

[Kydell]

Initiative
[roll0]

[Zuh1]

Saah'r had been just thinking about how this rag-tag group would handle danger, should they inevitably encounter it. And now that a real scene of chaos had appeared, he knew he had to spring into action. The card hitting his chest distracted him for a moment. The Harrow deck was known in Qadira as one of thousands of fortune-telling methods brought from the corners of the world. And the omen was, by all accounts, a bad one. Yet the Cyclone held other meanings for a creature such as Saah'r. The Cyclone was power, it was creation of new futures by sweeping away stale pasts. The quickness of the wind was the envy of anyone, and, as Saah'r steered his camel towards the burning cart, he hoped to channel some small part of that ineffable power into his own actions. As he approaches the burning wagon, he raises his left hand, upon which his brass ring was set, and executes a deft series of movements while speaking strange words that sound like howling storms passing over the mouth of a cave.

An enormous gust rushes from his hand, bringing with it sand and more than a few other Harrow cards that were scattered about. Then, just as it reaches the burning cart, it explodes into a torrent of freezing water. It might not be enough to put out all the flames, but the spell would go a long way in speeding up the process. "A bit better than buckets, is it not?" he calls out.



Casting drench (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/3rd-party-spells/rite-publishing---3rd-party-spells/d/drench) (which I never thought I would ever, ever get to use outside of producing drinking water and only prepared because acid splash, the only other zero-level conjuration spell, is incredibly lame) to put out some of the fire.

Initiative: [roll0]

[Cathmore]

Sal noticed the fire was being handled well by his companions and decided to put his skills with animals to work and rushed to help with them. He called to the camel drivers, "Push them towards me!"

Initiative:
[roll0]

[Morbis Meh]

Scrag rides off directly towards the blaze and begins chanting in a low guttural tone. It almost appears if the sky opens up and dumps a mini deluge tops the flames.

initiative [roll0]
casting create water

[Down Comforter]

Saah'r and Scrag move almost in unison, conjuring water above the burning wagon and releasing it over the blaze. As steam rushes into the air, it's clear that the fire is diminished, but not out, and those carrying water straighten themselves into a semblance of a line and seem to be acting slightly faster.

As Ferina busies herself helping put out the fire, Bartuc struggles along with the burly men to pull the wagon to safety.

Bartuc
Give me a strength check either here on in the OOC.

Salazar finds himself on the wrong end of a frantic camel as the drivers attempt to corral the animals.

Sal
I'll need a Handle Animal check from you here or in the OOC

[Kydell]

Strength Check
[roll0] +0 (Str)

[Cathmore]

Handle Animal check:
[roll0]

[Zuh1]

Saah'r smiles and a breeze whips up around him as the group sets to doing whatever is necessary. "Great minds think alike, Scrag! And keep up with those buckets. I've got an idea..." With Ferina taking charge of the bucket line, Scrag dropping minor rainstorms, and the fire already dwindling, Saah'r looks about to see where else he can be useful. In a flash, another idea occurs. He turns his attention over to where Bartuc and the others are trying to push the heavy wagon. "Be careful there! It's about to get very slippery!", he says to Bartuc.

He reaches into a pouch at his waist and extracts what appears to be a small piece of melty butter, mostly liquid in the heat of the day. With the butter smeared onto his fingers he weaves a spell more complex than the first and suddenly the area directly under the cart is covered in a slick grease. It might send the pushers flying once they do budge the cart, but the area is positioned so that they can get traction while the cart can slide away.



Casting grease on the 10' square area directly under the stuck cart to make it skid away from the fire. Apologies to anyone who falls over once the cart starts moving.

[Morbis Meh]

Scrag keeps up his grunting through the smoke and waving his thick sausage fingers. Once the fire was out he could attend the wound but putting out the fire was top priority.

[Down Comforter]

As the camel attempts to charge through Salazar, he deftly grabs it's reins and gently pulls it under control, whispering soothing words to it as he does so. Within seconds, the animal seems much more under control and docilely allows him to tie him to a nearby post.

Bartuc has trouble shifting the wagon, even with the assistance of the four mercenaries. As he tugs again, he hears Saah'r casting and a layer of grease appears beneath the wagon, which will likely help the next attempt to move it. Hopefully it's magical nature keeps it from catching fire.

The magical work continues as Scrag dumps more water onto the blaze, putting out a significant amount, but leaving a little more.

OOC: Round two!

[Zealumieo]

There was still work to be done on the fire, so Ferina didn't leave her place in the bucket line. It was very fortunate the fire was dying down, the dry heat of a desert tended to compound the dangers of such an element.

[Cathmore]

Sal notices that the driver's still struggle to herd the animals, while his allies have the blaze nearly under control, he decides to continue helping with the animals. Stepping towards another panicking camel he attempts to reign it in.

[Kydell]

Not willing to give up, Bartuc continues to help push the covered wagon.

2nd Strength Check:
[roll0]+ 0 (Str)

[Zuh1]

With the fire still burning, Saah'r turns his attention back to finishing the job. A flash of the hand and a quick word is all it takes to bring down more icy water onto the flames.

[Cathmore]

OOC: Might as well roll a handle animal check:
[roll0]

[Morbis Meh]

Scrag continues to bring water down upon the remainder of the fire, even if it went out, ember would remain which were just as deadly as any fire in this dry terrain.

[Down Comforter]

With a shift that almost throws Bartuc and the mercenaries on their faces, the wagon slips free with the help of the grease coating the ground and its wheels. The back of the wagon smolders briefly but there seems to be no lasting harm to either the wagon or its cargo.

Salazar encounters equal success as he coaxes another animal into its pen, with the help of one of the animal handlers. More animals yet remain, however and Ferina and Scrag have succeeded in dampening most of the fire, but a sudden gout of flame shows that it still has fight in it.

[Morbis Meh]

Scrag thought for a moment Hey fire needs something to burn so if the thing it needs to burn is wet then it can't spread!. Without delay Scrag conjures more water but this time directs it to the base of the sudden bout of flame.

[Zealumieo]

Ferina batted an eye at the appearance of fire, even though it seemed like they were beating it she wasn't going to get distraught that easily. She continued bringing water over with the rest, keeping an eye for any new blazes caused by loose embers.

[Kydell]

Reflex save to avoid falling on my face:
[roll0]

[Cathmore]

Sal moves on to corralling another animal.

Handle animal check the 3rd:
[roll0]

[Down Comforter]

As Salazar struggles with an especially belligerent camel, unsuccessfully trying to calm it, Ferina, Scrag, and the fire fighters succeed in putting out the fire. Bartuc executes a smooth roll and stands to his feet easily as the mercenaries around him thump to the ground after moving the wagon to safety.

As the smoke of the smoldering wreck drifts over the camp, you hear a shout from the old priest kneeling over one of the burned firefighters, "I need help here! I can't mix infusions fast enough to help her!"

[Kydell]

Bartuc knows next to nothing about medical treatment, but noticed the urgency in the priest's voice. The ratfolk runs to the priest's side and asks, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

[Morbis Meh]

Scrag all sweaty and manly strolls over to the burned fire fighter and exclaims "Move over, Scrag fix da boo boo on the woman... not now granpa don't play with my pouch I need to heal an ouch." Scrags face creases in concentration as he begins mumbling a complex series of grunts in orc. His hands begin to glow and he lowers his hands on the injured woman.

cure light wounds [roll0]

[Zealumieo]

Ferina was at a mild loss at what to do, she wasn't particularly good with animals and it seemed Scrag and Bartuc were already helping the burn victim. Well, anything was better then nothing... She pulled out some rope and attempted to make some rough traps to help catch the stray animals.

Survival (If thats okay to assume) alternatively Sleight of Hand? It has the same modifiers XD
[roll0]

[Cathmore]

Sal refuses to give up with the stubborn camel.

Handle animal check: [roll0]

[Zuh1]

With the fire out and the cart safe, Saah'r turns his attention to the particularly difficult camel. He scoops some colored sand out of his pouch and readies himself mentally to swiftly cast a spell should it become necessary


Going to ready an action to cast color spray if the camel cannot be brought under control during this round. I'll angle it to not catch anyone else in the cone, if possible. The camel will need to make a DC 15 Will save or pass out!

[Down Comforter]

Just as Salazar narrowly avoid being bitten, a wave of color washes over the camel and it instantly drops to its knees and begins to snore softly. A number of small chickens running nearby also drop beak-first into the sand. The rest of the animals are quickly brought under control by the guards and mercenaries who have been freed from their duty of putting out the fire. Saah'r and Bartuc both get thankful slaps on the back by the mercenaries who had been trying to move the wagon.

As the camp starts to quiet down, the guards move to clean up the mess left by the fire and animals and Garavel motions the lot of you over to the burned tent. As you get closer, you see Almah looking into the wreckage. She turns with a sniff, "Such a waste, he could have been of use." She looks at all of you in turn, then to her major domo, "Find out how this happened. Use the the new blood." She turns and walks into her tent, flanked by her bodyguard.

Garavel crosses his arms and grunts, "Right then, the Lady desires that we figured out the cause of this here disturbance." He picks up a ruined Harrow card and then tosses it away with a humph. "It seems this was Eloais' tent, who was Almah's personal fortune teller, and I want to know why it burned. If someone was behind it, I want to know. Talk to the people and look about, let me know what you find."

[Zealumieo]

Ferina nodded at the order. But first... Before any trouble was caused by people getting caught in errant traps, Ferina took a moment to gather the rope and materials she used for them. Then she came back to the burned down caravan, looking for clues on what started the fire, possibly the ignition point, and maybe signs of unusual interference.

Even if it was a long shot, she took a moment to look at the tracks left by the people approaching the tent to see if there were any unidentified ones in the bunch.

Perception [roll0]
Survival (tracking) [roll1]

Yeah, sorry if I'm rolling things I shouldn't be... If thats the case x3 Just... ignore it.

[Zuh1]

Saah'r can't help but laugh a little at the way the chickens hit the sand upon the casting of the spell. He dismissed the magically conjured grease and turns his attention to the burning wreck. "So what do we do? I think if we want to find out how this happened, we should question everyone in turn. Does this sound agreeable to everyone? But first..." He turns to the wreckage that Ferina is inspecting and casts a very brief spell, merely a flick of his fingers. His eyes take on a strange, shining aspect for only a moment and he contemplates the area around the burnt cart.


Casting detect magic on the burned up area, just incase...

[Down Comforter]

Ferina quickly decides that it would take a master tracker to make anything of the chaos that surrounds the burned tent, something she sadly is not. The amount of effort put into trying to put out the fire makes it also nigh-impossible to find the ignition point.

Saah'r detects some quickly fading faint magical auras, but at closer inspection they seem to be the remnants of a potion collection that broke in the fire.

[Zealumieo]

"Unless any of you see a clue in that mess, lets just ask around." Ferina shrugged, her examination was fruitless. She was never really a people person, so she hovered near the rest interjecting questions and asking for details she believed would help.

Sooo... Aid another on diplomacy checks to gather info... x3 Unless you actually want to literally ask each guard, the priest, or specifically the one who was burnt (and presumably closest to the fire).

[roll0] DC is 10. Doubt it'll help, but its worth something.

Edit :smallsmile: That it was

[Kydell]

Bartuc uses his keen nose to possibly follow the odor of the fire accelerant.

Scent special ability:
Perception [roll0]

[Morbis Meh]

Scrag rises up from the now recovering woman and casually walks over to where everyone was... maybe there was a prize or candy laying about, why else would everyone be searching Scrag luves candy hehe...Scrag hungry he pouts and holds his stomach he gets arrives and stand next to the odd lady with the boomstick and looks around for the perceived candy.

perception [roll0]

[Down Comforter]

While Bartuc sniffs around in the wreck, managing only to get a clump of ash up his nose, Scrag's search for candy turns up a scorched coin purse holding an assortment of coinage.

Scrag
From what you can tell, there doesn't seem to be any sign of a struggle or violence, suggesting that the fortune teller was killed by the fire itself or from inhaling the smoke the fire caused.

You also see a man dressed in rags, one of the caravan members, lurking a short distance away behind the corner of a nearby wagon and watching you search.

The coin purse also contains 55 gold pieces.

[Morbis Meh]

Scrag was elated he had found a bag!!! Upon retreiving it from the charred remains he dances happily around shouting "Scrag founds kandee luh luh la luh luh" He stops his celebration to open up the purse and proceeds to dump its contents into his mouth but quickly closes it and drops the bag when the first few coins fall into his mouth. Spitting them out wildly he yells "What iz dis? Dis not kandee who dun this to Scrag!?!" He looks down and pouts but quickly sees the glimmer of gold and smiles in a gapped tooth grin "OOOOhhh Scrag found shiniez!!!! Scrag can buy his own kandee!" He reaches down to collect the coins but everytime he reaches out for one it suddenly leaps out of his hands. Scrag grunts in frustration as this scene carries on for a good minute until he yells "Granpappy stop it! Scrag seyz he was sorry now let me has my shinnez!" He looks up with puppy dog eyes at Ferina and says sadly "Miss boomstick woman could you helps Scrag, Granpappy is being a poopy head, Scrag will share he promises!!!"

[Zealumieo]

Ferina shrugged, she wasn't one to make a scene bigger then it already was. She walked around Scrag and picked up the various gold pieces that flew off in random directions around him. "I'll place them in one of your pouches. Turn around." She made a small smile, not minding the fuss he was making as she put them away, "We can share once we find a good time and place to spend it yeh?"

"Well... We should each find a person or two to talk to about what happened. I'll approach the guard first." Ferina felt better off approaching the ones who she worked with the closest during the fire.

"Excuse me Sirs. I'm Ferina Merci... Part of the group that came in to help in the middle of that fire. You should remember me. Hope ya don't mind me asking a few questions about what your recall about it."

[Kydell]

After an embarrassingly poor attempt at sniffing out the culprit, Bartuc takes to asking folks as well. Being a mercenary himself, he walks over to the mercenaries and begins, "Hello, my name is Bartuc. It is most unfortunate what has happened here at the camp. I'm glad our crew was able to help. I am wondering if any of you could tell me what you know about how this happened?"

Diplomacy, if need be:
[roll0]

[Morbis Meh]

Scrag gives a big toothy smile and nods vigorously then proceeds to scamper off in search of information. He stumbles into the Lady Almah and proceeds to strike up a conversation "Ugh... excuze me preety boss lady but Scrag wuz wondering weather you sees anyting.... suspizus... before fire happened or meybe you knows why lady be burned up? Scrag would just like to know so he can be better at stoppind deese things but Scrag will always do his best like before. I put out da fire and helped the lady with da bad ouchies!"

Diplomacy [roll0]

[Down Comforter]

Bartuc
You spot the mercenaries sitting around a small campfire, preparing what is either a stew or their laundry."Aye, Zastoran said that Trevvis and Kallien would be right as rain water thanks t' the daft healer the new ones bring with 'em." The four mercenaries look up as you approach as you catch the tail-end of their conversation and you get your first actual look at them. They are tough, disreputable lot, thick with soiled armor and greasy hair, a distinct contrast to the well-mannered, meticulously attired soldiers who guard Almah.

One of the larger men stands as you finish speaking, "Oy! You're the wee ratling who helped us shift that beast of a wagon aren'tcha? Well bloody done! Get yerself over here and have a seat!" You are tossed a water skin that smells of cheap wine with a wink. "The fire, eh? I don't know much about that. We were all here about the fire, finishing a fine dinner by dear ol' Dullen here with a sturdy drink. A shame that weak-wristed poofer went up with the wagon though, the Lady Almah will surely miss those games of playing hide the spear!" He laughs uproariously before it devolves into a coughing fit. "Heh. I'm sure Dashki is quite happy he's gone though, you know getting rid of the competition and all," he says with a wink.

Scrag
Almah looks up in surprise as you stumble in, only to be stopped from getting too close by the bodyguard who quickly move in front of you from their posts outside. You think you see a look of sadness on her her face, but it quickly shifts into the business-like demeanor you are used to seeing. "I don't know anything about what happened out there. That's why I hired you." She pauses with look of slight confusion, "And Eloais is... was... a man, not a woman. If you need anything, I must ask that you be quick about it."

Ferina
You find the bodyguard standing watch outside Amah's tent as you might expect. As Scrag makes his way into the tent, three of the four move into follow him, leaving one outside for you to approach. The bodyguard looks you up and down warily, his hand resting easily on the hilt of his sword. "Fixx. Be quick about it," he grunts.

[Kydell]

"Thanks friend," Bartuc says as he sits down and begins to nurse the wineskin. "What was a weak-wristed poofter doing alongside this crew? And who is Dashki?"

[Kydell]

Bluff to gain their friendship[roll0]

Diplomacy to get information[roll1]

[Zuh1]

Saah'r goes over to the camel drivers, and the camels which are just waking up from his magic, to try his luck there. "That fire frightens the animals, no? Do not fear over my little spell, it shall not hurt them in the long run. The death of a fortune teller, that is black news in my country. Indeed, it is said that he who does not assist in putting such a death to rest will himself have bad fortune. Do you all know of how the fortune teller came to harm?"



Saah'r is making up the bit about "bad fortune" as a way of playing off his mystical ways. Hopefully, it will frighten the camel drivers into cooperating.

Here's a bluff check:

[roll0]

[Morbis Meh]

Scrag looks confused and begins counting in an odd way, he stops and looks at Almah with a stupid grin "Hahaha pretty lady, very funnee joke but you know fool Scrag, that woman in a dress was a woman but not a man! Scrag just wanted to konfirm some fakts wit you pretty lady and also properly say hullo because dat is polite and Scrag was always taught to be polite. Though if I could ask you for a brush of sorts.... miss daizy likes to look pretty and the sand does a real number to her coat. I swear she will ride better if i can make her look prettier"

[Down Comforter]

Bartuc
"He was the personal fortune teller of the Lady and we take her coin so we voice no complaint." As he takes a swig one of the female mercenaries chips in, "Dashki is our scout. 'Gnoll expert' he calls himself. He should be around, though you'll likely smell him before you see his raggedy ass. I haven't seem him in several hours though."

Saah'r
The camel drivers make a warding sign at the mention of bad luck but seem unperturbed. The woman speaks up, as the man seems on the edge of tears, "We've no worries about the customs of foreign folk. We're simple people we are and not to worry about that. As for poor Eloais... I reckon he caught fire, didn't he? A shame, he was nice enough for a foreigner but all his talk of Cyclones and Fiends and Uprisings was confusing. The Lady trusted him though, and that's enough for me." At this the man jumps in, "He may be dead, rest his soul, but my dear Rombard is missing! During the chaos of the fire he must have gotten scared and run off or... or... something!" The man stares out into the darkening scrublands and walks off without another word.

Scrag
Almah rubs at her temple before turning away, "If you need a brush speak Hadrah or Hadrod, our camel drivers." She gestures to one of her bodyguard, "Please show him to them, Podarn."

[Zealumieo]

"Did you notice anything before the fire? Did that fortune teller get into anyone's bad side lately?" Ferina went straight to the point, adhering to his request to be quick about it. She ignored the fact he wasn't anywhere close to saying her name correctly, despite the fact she felt she'd said it rather clearly.

[Down Comforter]

Ferina
Fixx leans closer to the tent, trying to hear what's happening inside. "The four of us were standing guard here when the fire started. Didn't see anything suspicious at the astrologer's wagon. Did see that lout Dashki lurking about though. It was clear that he was trying to get a look into Almah’s tent. That boy is obsessed with her." He scratches his chin in thought, "Can't think of anyone that might have had it out for Eloais either."

[Zealumieo]

((XD bluh bluh... That was a prime example of how dumb and selfcentered your players can be))
Ferina nodded, "Fixx, Eloais wasn't talking openly about superstitous stuff was he? You know those fortune teller types... If he knew something was coming for him, I'd be respectful to humor his last words. Last one I promise." Ferina kept her voice down, she did it on purpose as he seemed more intent on listening in. Questions, she supposed, could be answered later... But the words between other people would only come by once.

[Down Comforter]

Ferina
Fixx shrugs, "I did not spend time with him. He most often was in the company of Lady Almah or tending to his own desires."

[Zuh1]

Saah'r holds up his hand to silence the woman, and stands to follow the man. He is highly intent and swift, and catches up with him quickly. "This Rombard. A companion? A child? Perhaps there is a connection between the misfortune of the fire and Rombard disappearing. We can help you find him, and he can perhaps help us understand the matter of the fire..."

[Down Comforter]

Saah'r
The man turns and looks at you, tears in his eyes. "You'd look for him for me? You are a good man, you are. I've been beside myself without him here." He straightens up and rubs at his eyes. "He's about as tall as my hip with shaggy brown hair. He does enjoy getting into trouble." He sighs, "I don't know if I could stand it if lost that goat."

[Zealumieo]

"Mind if I listen in with you for a bit?" Ferina respectfully stepped back- give the man some space. If Fixx felt it was important to eavesdrop on, she was curious if she could hear anything important too.

[Down Comforter]

Ferina
Fixx's frown seems to deepen, though that didn't seem possible. "No. You may not eavesdrop on my Lady. Do you have any other questions or can I be about my duties?"

[Zealumieo]

"No thank you." Ferina was glad for her initial step backward, it didn't take much to walk off awkwardly like the whole conversation had gone.

[Kydell]

"So," Bartuc continued with the mercenaries, "What do you remember happening just before the fire broke out?"

[Down Comforter]

Bartuc
"Like I said, we were about the feast-fire, enjoying a sturdy drink when the fire broke out. It was just us and the priest sitting over there reading. Don't know what more I can tell you in that regard."

[Kydell]

"Excellent," Bartuc says as he hands back the wineskin,"I'll be back to enjoy your company, friend."

He heads off to find Dashki.

[Zealumieo]

Ferina knew she was being pessimistic backing off like that. But habits were hard to kill, being sensitive to the tense or irritable wasn't doing her any favors. Ferine milled about, knowing that standing around was a good way to get yelled at by her boss, before coaxing herself to talk to someone else; anyone else, as long as she remembered the face during the fire.

[Morbis Meh]

Scrag was slightly sad at the Pretty Lady dismissing him, with a slight pout and shoulders slumped he slowly goes outside over to the animal handlers. Though by the time he reaches them he had forgotten why he was sad and thus came to the conclusion that being sad was for the stoopid and Scrag waznt stoopid. He approaches the busy men with a silly grin "Hey guys, big boss lady sent me here to get some supplies, I am need in an animal brush if you can spare one."

[Down Comforter]

Bartuc
You smell the man before he comes into view, his ragged form leaned up against a wagon as he sharpens a dagger. He looks up as you approach, "Can I help you?"

Scrag
You find the camel drivers near the animal pens, with Saah'r standing nearby. The woman is trying to console the man speaking with your companion, but she nods towards a bag hanging off their wagon. "Brushes are in there. Make sure you bring it back now, boy."

[Cathmore]

Sal had done what he could to clean up any leftover reckage from the panic and decides to join Bartuc in his interragation of the scruffy and frankly disgusting looking man Sal had gleaned was called Dashki. Sal smoothly steps beside the ratfolk, a menacing scowl directed at Dashki slipping over his face. This was the kind of man Sal had no time for.

[Morbis Meh]

Scrag brushed the pretty miss daisy really good, he even made up a brushing song for her, Miss daisy loved songs she even sang along it was a grand old time! When Scrag had finished he returned the brush to the handlers and sauntered over to the big grumpy boss man, who in Scrag's opinion probably just needed a hug!

Noticing that the man was shouting orders, Scrag slipped in behind him and waited until the man was finished yelling his latest order "Heyz, mizter big boss man who pays me shinniez, Scrag no find anything new the Miss Pretty lady didn't see nothing. She did let me brush miss Dayzy though, look at her izn't she preety??? Oh maybe you saw something mister boss man while the fire was roaring and you were yelling, you should really not yell so loud you will hurt your voice and peoples just won't like you!"

diplomacy (gather info)[roll0]

[Down Comforter]

Scrag
Garavel glances over at you and sighs, "The Lady Almah wanted an unbiased investigation, but between us, I've never trusted our scout, Dashki over much." He lowers his voice, "Between us. And it stays between us. If anyone in this group were discovered to be an arsonist and murderer, Dashki would be the least surprising."