Dark Sun 3.5 - Visions and Nightmares

[Grimtina]

The hot wind, bringing with it enough particles of dust and sand to sometimes equal a sandstorm, howls through the alleys and streets of Old Kurn relentlessly. Since four days, the wind has not let up for more than a minute or two. The streets look more deserted than ever, and only who absolutely has to go out will do so, shawls wrapped around faces to prevent the dust from entering. To make it all worse, the constant, low howling is beginning to depress the population. Storms are not so unusual this time of year, but they don't usually last that long.

But you can't help it. You have to be at the meeting that's been called despite of the weather. The world doesn't wait around for a city caught up in a storm. At noon, you had been told. It is hard in the hazy light caused by the flying particles to be sure, but it can't be too long now, and you are sure you have the right building, a whitewashed former caravan court and slave market, now used for all sorts of things not supposed to be out to the open eyes. Including, but not limited to, hiring "freelancers" and briefing agents. No one in the neighborhood give the old building a second glance, despite, or maybe because, they can well imagine what it might be used for still.

There are other shapes making it for the large portal, formerly used for wagons, now. Yes, you are definitely in the right place.

[RandomWombat]

An odd sight among the cities of men, head draped in the brown hood of its tunic, one of the bird-men of Winter's Nest flies low through the streets - the buildings providing some cover from the wind. All the same, the Aarakocra would really much rather be up high above the artificial buildings and streets of Old Kurn. These cities and their stone and wood were always unpleasantly restrictive. Worse yet the meeting place he was expected to go to was inside one of these building. Apprehensively, he flies about the building, looking for any windows large enough to perch in.

Taking 10 on a Spot check to look for windows, for a result of 22.

[Meriss]

As usual Hanna rose with the bloated sun and was well into her day. Backpack checked and rechecked. Powers tested and ready. Gear fitted till it sang like a child.

Hanna left her small dwelling and was into the building well before any of the others. She curled up in the middle of the room like some strange desert cat. She would do anything for the great king. Anything for a few precious moments in the new city. As the others arrived she would greet them.

[u-b]

Zalcor spent most of the last four days sitting in the (good) room he was renting in one of the better houses, reading a good book he have borrowed from the library, and taking some notes. The idea of going out to be present at the meeting was not very pleasing, with all that sandstorm, but money do not make themselves, and some have to be made in order to enjoy comforts when off-duty. When hostler came in, Zalcor was in his room, dressed in a well-used wastelander outfit, and ready.

Zalcor rode the empty streets of Old Kurn to the meeting place, left Choka at the stables, and went inside, unwrapping the sheets protecting the face and shaking off whatever sand is easily shaken off. He nods to Hanna.

[Grimtina]

The windows here are all but small slits, but the door to load food for the animals into the loft is still there and large enough for two camels to fit through.

[RandomWombat]

Kaathrawk lands cautiously in the loft doorway, reluctant to go any further in. Shifting uncomfortably as he looks into the horrible confined walls of the building the birdman waits for the briefing to begin.

[Grimtina]

Familiar footsteps approach down the hallway leading into the large storage room usually used for meetings like this one. Tap-clonk-tap-clonk-tap-clonk. Slow as ever. There are pauses in the steps, as if the walker would need rest despite having just come a short way. What seems to be an endless time later, the person in question enters the room through a large archway originally made for wagons. He's slightly wheezing, and for the 100th time, you may wonder why he is insisting to meet like this or, at least, get some assistance. But then, most of his kind would never admit to needing help.

Kaomak the half-elf appears in the dim lightpatterns formed by the slit windows and coughs quickly. He seems to have aged a lot more since you last saw him, but how old he really is, no one sems to know anyway. His hair is almost completely white, and his bowed frame would not hold up without the ivory cane he took to using. His eyes are dull, betraying his very poor eyesight. Yet the yellow cloak he is wearing and the white shirts and pants do not look like he has been in a sandstorm at all. And maybe he hasn't. No one is sure, after all, how Kaomak makes his way to places. Sometimes, he just seems to pop out of nowhere.

"I trust we have all gathered?" his leathery voice asks no one in particular.

[Meriss]

Hanna cast a predator's glance about the room. "We're all here old man. Get on with it.

[RandomWombat]

"Kaowak," Kaathrawk stands at full height and clearly displays his templar sigil, looking down his beak at the elderly half-elf as he addresses them. The half-elf's name is somewhat mispronounced, due to the limited vocalization of the Aarakocra. "To conclude the 'riething quickly, yes?" He was not eager to spend more time cooped up here than necessary.

[Grimtina]

The hint of a smile apears on the old man's face. "Of course.

It has come to our attention that a large deposit of ore - adamantium to be precise - has appeared, seemingly out of nowhere for the location has been monitored. It is unlikely that this has escaped the attention of everyone else but us. Thus, it is urgent we get there and retrieve as much of it as possible, by almost all means necessary."

Kaomak's face takes on the so well known display of worry, but it does that almost every time he hands out new missions. "As it is the nature of divinations, they are not 100% precise, but you know that already. We know that it is located to the south of Tyr, in the mountains."

For a moment, his appearance and demeanor change, and he looks to be taller and younger. "It is of utmost importance to gain ownership of this resource. You will not fail." He's done that before, too, and as before, everyone feels a rush of self confidence.

Then he is his old, frail self again. "Everything you will need in supplies will be granted to you, of course. Other than that, you must rely on your own, not unsubstantial wits." His eyes dart around the large room, though it is doubtful he is able to recognize much. "Any questions?"

[RandomWombat]

Eyes brightening, Kaathrawk's demeanor relaxes for a moment when it is discovered they will be traveling in the mountains. Longing to feel the cool mountain air on his face, he says nothing and waits for the groundbound ones to voice their concerns. He is now more eager than ever to get underway.

[u-b]

Zalcor has quite a lot of questions, actually. I'm not sure which of those he should already have an answer to, one way or another (he has some Knowledges and has done some other missions). I'd rather have the answers to all the questions, but ask Kaomak only about what Zalcor does not know himself.

The questions being as follows:
1. Is it anywhere near natural for deposits of anything to appear seemingly out of nowhere? Are any precedents like this known?
2. How one is supposed to retrieve it without setting up a mine and performing a full-blown mining operation? Or we will be given magical mining tools? Or are we supposed to claim the ownership and hold it against the competition?
3. Why are (are?) we believed to be able to get there faster than whoever else is going to be getting there, given thet we are as far from Tyr as humanly possible and everybody else is closer?

(that's for the start, Zalcor might have more questions)

[Grimtina]

Hidden deposites come up every once in a while, usually after earthquakes or similar ground shaking events. They are usually not large. Considering no one has mentioned mining yet, the group would likely assume it would not be needed, as organization is normally very thorough. Having magical or psionic help available transporting stuff is also not unusual and would probably happen in time. Given that most of your missions come from divinations (or spy info) it's probably thought that either no one else has the information yet. An assumption that has been wrong a few times in the past.

Tyr itself currently has a lot of internal issues and would not be likely to focus on finding more resources at the moment.

[Meriss]

Hanna's dark eyes glitter predatorialy Metal! This would bring the great king's attention. Metal could rip apart a nation! In the hands of her brothers, fathers and uncles Kurn could be like a great beast and rend the hearts from their enemies.

But one thing at a time. "How much time do we have, old man? Who else has scented this prey? Cousin, she turns to Kathrawk. "Perhaps you should fly ahead while we ride the slaver's beasts and follow."

[Grimtina]

"We do not think anyone else has had wind of our prize yet," the half-elf says. ""And we have the pricise location. Not on a map, though - we know the area on the map - but we know how the mountain in question looks like. It is a..." He seems to recall a specific decription from mind. "...first into the sky, with the middle finger pointing up, and a needle-like peak to it's left. On the right is a cold volcano with a broken off crater. I was told anyone able to fly would be able to recognize such a description.§

[RandomWombat]

"Oth course, oth course," from his perch, Kaathrawk waves a winged arm dismissively. As if they expected him to do otherwise? He had wings for a reason, and it wasn't riding some smelly land animal or cramped wagon. "Will kee'da eyes in the sky." It wasn't clear whether he was saying he would 'keep the' eyes in the sky or 'be the' eyes in the sky. Same effect either way.

[u-b]

Zalcor nods.

"Anything else we would need to know before starting preparations?"

Weather forecast (Survival): [roll0]

[Grimtina]

Storm is likely to die out overnight, which is usually followed by several very clear days with good far views.

"You will need to find transportation for the adamantine, of course, but while we most likely have the resources to give to you, we will leave it up to you how to handle it. That way, it will best fit your needs." The half-elf sounds very exhausted now. "Carmin will handle your supplies as usual."

Carmin, an old dwarf who serves as inofficial quartermaster of the cities, lives close to Old Kurn's center most of the time, but seems to pop up in the new city so quickly there must be some sort of connection between his houses no one is aware of. He has, in the past, fulfilled most of your wishes wthout asking too much questions, and usually quickly.

[RandomWombat]

"Yes," Kaathrawk shifts impatiently and looks to the others to see if they are ready to leave or if they have more questions. The earlier excitement has worn off and the cramped atmosphere has started to wear on him again. Carmin, was it? How such a short, squat thing as a dwarf managed to move so quickly was beyond him, but it was good. Less time waiting, more time doing.

[Meriss]

Hanna rubbed her hands together gleefully. The dwarf always had the nicest things. "We should go! Let Kurn rejoice at our return!"

[Grimtina]

The storm has lessened in strength a little, but it will take a while before it will die down completely. But already, several people are making their way through the streets now, unable to afford wasting time sitting around doing nothing.

In the center of the city, just across where the old market used to be before "the incident" when a whole lot of people were poisoned by food bought there, Carmin's shop is, of course, open. And the familiar curses can be heard. "Son of a sandstorm and a mud puddle," his loud voice can be heard. "Why do I always get the slow apprentices? Take the hammer here, and hold the wheel there, and then..." A loud clanging sound and a surprised shout of the apprentice. "Yes, now the wheel is back on the wagon. Now, take the hammer, here, hold the wheel there, and in the name of all the undead in a defiler's cemetary, do it right this time."

[RandomWombat]

Making his way quickly inside after landing near the front entrance, Kaathrawk has resigned to getting the business indoors finished as quickly as possible. It will be worth it once he gets to breath in the fresh mountain air.

[Grimtina]

The dwarf lifts his head, and a smile splits is bearded face. "Katrauk!" As usual, he doesn't get the name right; he probably never will. "Good to see you are still fluttering around. What brings you to my den of confinement?" He chuckles at the old joke, as usual.

[RandomWombat]

The Aarakocra does his best to focus solely on the dwarf, not the walls. Or the ceiling. The floor either for that matter, artificial flooring made his talons itch. Just didn't feel right. "Carrin," - it seems neither of them will ever be able to pronounce the other's name properly - "I ang to go south, to the rountains. Others too, oth course. We will 'e needing sundries for the journey. Long way. Carry water and food on his cart." A nod is sent Zalcor's way. One good thing land creatures were good for: getting lots of things to other places. Hard to do that while flying.

The water would of course be easy to get, at least before they left, with the everflowing river in New Kurn. The food might be more problematic. It would need to be something that doesn't spoil.

[u-b]

Things were getting more and more interesting with every passing minute. First, Zalcor learns that he has a beast to spare. Now, it seems he have obtained a cart in addition to it. You almost get richer just by walking around these ignorant... comrades. Yes, comrades. After all, ignorant is much better than jealous, and Oronis seems to attract followers that are pleasant and safe to work with... whatever is their attention to detail and attitude towards enclosed spaces. With these thoughts, Zalcor nods to the dwarf.

"We'll have a sturdy armored cart, with pair of Inixes to drag it along. Feed, barding and all that stuff for a trip to Tablelands and back. Also, supplies for us. Can do?"

[Grimtina]

The dwarf nods. "Sure thing. Come by first light tomorrow and it will all be done. Even with lazy apprentices as this one."

[RandomWombat]

"Good, sand will go, ith good. Clear skies," the Aarakocra says hopefully. Eager to get back into open air - even filthy sandy city air - he quickly makes his way back out to wait for the others.

[u-b]

"Good. Please throw in some simple mining equipment... I guess a hundred pounds should do, a riding saddle for crodlu, two pack saddles for inixes... and that's about all."

Zalcor looks at Hanna and, if there is no corrections of gear request, walks out (and, presumably, home).

[Grimtina]

The next morning dawns bright and clear, and indeed, the equipment, animals and all, is ready. Carmin is a bit distracted this morning, running around in the alleys close by and calling for someone. "Don't mind him," the young apprentice, also a dwarf, says. "His niece is here for a few days, and as usual she is playing pranks and tricks and forces everyone to play hide and seek with her. Doesn't help that she manifests psionics in a really weird and unpretictable way," He points to a bump on is head. "She accidentally threw a pot at me." He doesn't seem annoyed, more amused. "In any case, we checked everything thrice, especially the mining equipment. It's in the boxes and sacks disguised as food delivery. Master Carmin thought it a good idea, lest someone asks questions."

[RandomWombat]

Curiously, Kaathrawk watches the dwarf scurry about for a few seconds. Eventually he forces himself to go inside and help move the supplies and equipment out into the cart. The birdman's lightweight bone structure meant he wasn't ideal for carrying heavy loads, but his extensive martial training helps in that respect. And sitting around while there's things to be done is not in his nature.

[u-b]

Zalcor nods with a smile. "Thank you very much." then looks in general direction of Carmin, adds that "Chindren, so much fun." and makes a mental note.

After moving Zalcor's personal supplies from a pack saddle on a crodlu into the cart, putting the pack saddle there too, and putting a riding saddle on instead for Hanna to ride, Zalcor manifests Psychic*tracking to make sure there are no nieces either in or under the cart and is ready to go.

[Meriss]

Hanna as usual had no extra needs. She believed that preparation was its own reward.

As the group departs, she smiles at Carmin and his apprentice. "Be grateful that she does not follow my Way. Though no one did ever complain of vermin when I was a child."

Hanna looks confused at the slaver's sudden graciousness. But at least he had chosen non prey animals for their journey. A beast of prey would have been ... Complex. "Go"

[Grimtina]

"As it was to be expected, the little girl is hiding in one of the mining supply boxes - no one had thought of checking them as they had already been checked a lot before. She's sound asleep, too, and doesn't even notice when an upset uncle gets her out of there.

Within a few minutes, the cart is on the way, making its way out of the city just as many others. For a long stretch of the road, no one would pay attention to it in any case.

[u-b]

Zalcor rides the cart, enjoying the morning. Choka the crodlu is walking nearby with Zalcor's psycristal riding it. Paka the crodlu is doing whatever Hanna persuades it to do. Once out of the city, Zalcor manifests least version of inertial armor, but leaves the shield at his feet in the cart.

As for how exactly the psycrystal is riding the crodlu, there are at least two options:
1. Either we rule that a crodlu that is trained for riding and knows tricks understands a two dozens words worth of language (and thus is eligible to be telepathically comanded by psycrystal to within this limit; willing relocate crodlu's skillpoints if required).
2. Or, the psycrystal will have it's propulsion deployed.

Ether way, the psicrystal is in a tight pocket that is on the chest of each crodlu's barding. How much is is visible depends on how much psycrystal needs to see the outside word - it's senses are rather peculiar, so maybe being covered by a multiply-pierced piece of leather would be just fine:


Although it has no physical sensory organs, a psicrystal can telepathically sense its environment as well as a creature with normal vision and hearing. Darkness (even supernatural darkness) is irrelevant, as are areas of supernatural silence, though a psicrystal still can’t discern invisible or ethereal beings. A psicrystal’s sighted range is 40 feet.

[RandomWombat]

Eagerly taking to the skies once the group is out of the city, Kaathrawk takes to patrolling and scanning the landscape from high above. In his talons is gripped his lance, the Aarakocra ready to dive upon any threat that makes itself known.

Spot check to scan the area: [roll0]

[Grimtina]

I'm sure the beasts can understand telepathy without really getting that it's different from spoken words

The most part of the day, the journey is rather boring. The travelers on the main road all mind their own business. Towards the evening, as your cart swings around a rock formation diverting the road, there is a commotion and the road ahead is blocked. Several people are shouting curses at someone in their middle, a few of them holding stones. "End him now," someone shouts. "Can't have the likes of them running around."

[u-b]

Zalcor refreshes his inertial armor and psychic*tracking, puts on the shield, then drives closer to the obstacle, until the inixes are within 10 feet or the people notice and meaningfully react, whichever comes first.

[RandomWombat]

Above, Kaathrawk decreases his altitude and circles above the congregation of landdwellers on the road. One of the many troubles with land travel, always so crowded and full of obstacles. No helping it though; he'd just ready up to fall on anyone foolish enough to attack his allies below.

Circling within diving distance of the ground.

[Meriss]

Hanna was approaching the journey with her usual tactics. "Point the beast at the head of the caravan and pray" So far it had been working. Now she sighs as the slaver's power ignites anew. She reaches into her own mind and draws forth her own shield of power. Her other powers could wait until she could assess the situation. Who was prey this time?


OOC: Inertial armor, delaying claws @Grim: Can I spread out my PP for my claws? Like if I spend 1for the 1d4 version can I then spend another 2 PP next round to upgrade to 1d6 or is it a fresh manifestation each time?

[Grimtina]

A group of mostly humans and dwarfs, with a few halflings here and there, have toppled over a cart which had contained pots and pans, woth the owner of the vehicle, a young man who might have just come of age yet, still half buried under it. He tries in vain to protect his head from the sticks and kicks the audience rains down on him. He calls for them to stop, but no one listens. Shouts to hand the sorcerer dift over the crowd, and one large man is starting to stab at the boy with a pitchfork. "We saw what you did," a hysteric old man yells. "Let's burn him right here."

[u-b]

Having no immediate reaction from the group of prospective burners, Zalcor waits patiently while one heavy warcrodlu, with a military riding saddle, but no rider, comes closer to the scene to look at it from directly behind the man with the pitchfork.

"Please burn him right there," - Zalcor points to the side in such a way that the proposed site is away from the road and that man with the pitchfork would find himself face to face with the crodlu if attempted to look in that direction - "if you have a good reason for it. Not on the road, if you would be so kind."

Neither Zalcor nor the crodlu look in any way particularly threatening at the moment.

[RandomWombat]

"Ahndits? Is this ahndits and 'rigands on the road? Cease and desist ididiately, in authority oth the Kurn Temlarate!" the aarakocra above squawks down at the gathered mob in his best authoritative voice (detracted slightly by his vocal quirks), circling lower now and seeing that some sort of violence is taking place on the road. As a Templar of Kurn, he will not allow such unruly conduct on the road to Oronis' city.

Diplomacy to order them to stop: [roll0]

[Meriss]

Hanna shook her head at the others. Too soft from the slaver. Too hard from her cousin.

She rode closer to the mob. As she did, one hand stole away from the reins. There was a sudden pop as the hand transformed into a vicious claw.

"Explain. Now." Hanna waggled her new claw at the road side spectacle.

1 PP on claws. Intimidate: [roll0]

[Grimtina]

The man with the pitchfork turns to pick up on the idea and takes a surprised step back, just when he hears the voice from above. Almost everyone looks up but the target of their attack.

As Hannah shows up, the man with the pitchfork immediately turns defiant again, despite his confusion. "He's been defiling our village green," he tries to explain. "We have plenty of people who saw it, yet he denies it! And he's from Tyr!" he adds, as if that would explain everything.

"Am not," the young man gasps.

The rest of the crowd has stepped back a bit, with a few people pointing at the templar.

[RandomWombat]

The birdman slowly descends to ground level, tossing up his lance and catching it in his hands as he finally lands on his talons. "Dethiled, you say? Show us then. Ith your clains are true, justith will 'e done." Planting the lance upon the ground and holding it on one hand, he uses the other hand to direct attention to the sigil hanging from his neck. Though it bears no symbol, it clearly marks him as a templar.

Since he's closer now, Kaathrawk is also going to cast the Defiler Scent 0-level spell. He can tell if there are defilers within 20 ft., but the spell does not reveal who or how many.

[u-b]

Zalcor lets the templar handle the situation. Legal authority and all that.

[Grimtina]

The crowd nods and mutters to themselves, pointing to a small excuse of a village behind a small rock formation, the houses and hutts buiuld so they would be out of the sun for the large part of the day. A small well sits in the middle, and around it, grass and a few flowers and a middle sized gnarled tree grow, shadowing a few stone chairs. It is clear the people take care of the little they have, with decorations trying to lessen the impact of a poor lifestyle.

A bush on the other side of the tree and the grass around it have died off, the leaves brown and brittle, cauring a pitiful dry rustle in the low desert wind. "Here," one woman shows. "He did something here and it turned dead." She has her hand on her hips and stares daggers at the supposed defiler.

There is a tainted person about.

[RandomWombat]

The birdman scratches the bottom of his beak, a habit he'd picked up from some humans, who liked to scratch at the little bone protrusion below their mouthes. "You, 'oy," taking the supposed wizard by the shoulder, Kaathrawk pulls him aside. "Here. Do not go. All oth you, stand rawck. I an doing inwestigating." He gestures for the boy to stay put and the rest of the people to maintain distance, then does some more templar spellcasting.

Kaathrawk takes the boy beyond the Defiler Scent range of the other villagers and casts it again, with only the boy in range.

[Meriss]

Hanna had slid less than gracefully from the saddle of her crodlu. She followed her cousin closely. She knew if the bird man needed backup she was his best chance.

The feral warrior growled at the dead vegetation. This is not natural.

[Grimtina]

With a confused stare, the boy does as ordered. He indeed detects as tainted. I don't remember if that spell can detect how tainted someone is, if so, it's only faint

[RandomWombat]

I'm not sure if it differentiates a preserver who defiled (but passed their save and merely became tainted) from a true defiler. The spell doesn't detect strength, location, or number of defilers, but doesn't specifically mention tainted spellcasters. I guess that would be up to you as the GM.

"The 'oy has done dethiling, yes," Kaathrawk nods solemnly. He had hoped this was a false alarm and simply a case of poor gardening, but it indeed seems to be a crime most wicked. He takes his spear in both hands and looks the young wizard in the eye, "One chance, 'oy, to exclaim - eng, that is not it - reason your actions. Yes, that is the word. Give reason." There will be punishment either way, but a foolish young wizard defiling by accident may simply require instruction and guidance. Perhaps from one of Oronis' own magi. Something more dangerous will require immediate action.

Diplomacy to get him to tell the truth: [roll0]
Sense Motive to get a hunch on his attitude towards his actions: [roll1]

[Meriss]

Hanna drops into a offensive crouch behind the bird man. This was a crime. Plain and simple. But her own authority was limited.

Let the truth come out and then there would be punishment.


Hanna's going into combat mode just in case.
Initiative [roll0]

[u-b]

Zalcor just waits patiently. Not like this could be helped one little bit.

[Grimtina]

All the boy radiates is confusion and panic. "I din't do anything," he cries out. "I was just packing up my wares, and the large soup pot was broken, and I got all upset because they are hard to make and then my eyes blurred. I think someone played a trick on me because the pot was whole again and I packed up, but then those people screamed and came at me and I thought they had all gone mad and then my cart toppled and.. probably the pot is really broken now and and.. then you showed up. But I don't know any magic, I can't do anything special! My father says I can't even do anything right."

[RandomWombat]

Tapping a talon on the ground in thought, Kaathrawk's lance is still held at the ready in his hands. "Yet the scent of dethilent is a'rout you. 'Tis not so easy to do nagic, I think. Zalcor," without taking his eyes off of the suspect wizard, the Aarakocra addresses one of his psionic companions, "You are well-read. Can a wizard cast with no... s'look? Ah. S'eell'ook? The writing oth the nagic." The birdman struggles to pronounce the word 'spellbook'.

[u-b]

"Oh, but of course! To cast a spell, no book is required. It is rather difficult to prepare a spell with no book, but I heard is manageable. Sniff them everyone for that "defiler scent" and I will check the site to make sure everyone has been covered. I'm afraid, the boy's going to burn. We don't have much use for defilers... oh, or sell him in Kurn. Yes, take him to Carmin and tell Kaathrawk's sending this evil defiler to be put to the worst work there is in the city and be whipped to the bone if he ever attempts something of the sort. I'm not sure this would be worth much, but it would be a young healthy slave, so Carmin is sure to pay some."

Zalkor gets off the cart, then moves around the boy and around the crowd and to defiled site, using Psychic*Tracking ([roll0] vs DC 20 or so). He wants to know if everyone who has recently been at or near the site is still present.

[RandomWombat]

"See, then. Accident unlikely, yes," Kaathrawk states to the young boy. Next he speaks to Hanna, "Searching the 'oy for 'ook, trease? Could 'e anything. Look for odd o'jects. Rest oth you," the templar addresses the other villagers, "I will check one at a tine. 'E sure are no other dethilers. You thirst, trease." He indicates the man who had been most vigorously attacking the boy.

[Meriss]

Hanna relaxes partially out of her crouch at the boys strange story. To her knowledge magic was not something that just happened. Of course if the boy held the Wild Way that might explain something, but this was just unheard of.

She rolls her eyes at the slaver. Terrifying the boy would gain nothing. Slavery in Kurn was nothing like he described.

The warrior nods to her cousin. The birdman would only frighten the boy to death. With a thought she dismisses her ripping claws. "Sneeze and they'll be at your throat. Hold still. Neither one of us wants you to be naked." she addresses the boy.


Search I guess?
[roll0]
Actually we've got time. Taking 20

[Grimtina]

No one else smells defiler, although a few people seem to get mighty nervous instead of agitated now.

The boy, still looking confused, doesn't put up any resistance. He carries an old set of eating tools, tinder box, some clothes and a blanket in a backpack and a water pouch and damaged crystal knife at his belt. There is an old book in his pocket, which appears to be half-read and marked with a dried leaf. It's named "Poems of a By-gone Time" by someone named Woolash Makanzie.

[RandomWombat]

"No other dethilers," Kaathrawk confirms with relief. At the very least there will be no need for further hassle. Turning his attention back to the boy, he approaches Hanna. He never did learn to read, but their companion Zalcor was adept at the skill. What he did know was that spellbooks were rarely truly books. He also knew that some magical items powered by defiling magic could be just as destructive as the magic itself. Though figuring out what the magic items themselves do is not his forte. Leaving the book to those more capable on the subject, he takes the crystal knife and examines it under the gaze of a Detect Magic spell.

Spellcraft to identify the school of magic if a magic item is present: [roll0]
Otherwise it just detects magic items and the strength of their aura.

[Meriss]

Hanna looks confused by the boy's belongings. Nothing that she wouldn't expect on any other traveler. The ... book was ... unexpected. Especially if the villagers were correct. Tyrians were not well known for their love of the written word. In fact hadn't the former sorcerer king of Tyr, the ... tyr-ant banned any form of writing?

This boy needed to be in Kurn. Sooner rather than later.

Of course the one time I break my pattern and make a combat monster the campaign starts with a non combat challenge.

[Grimtina]

The boy has, by now, calmed down a little because the villagers keep their distance. "You are not going to destroy it!" he begs, pointing at the book. "It's all that's left from my family."

The knife has a strong magic aura

[RandomWombat]

"What oth this?" Kaathrawk held up the knife for the boy to see, wanting an explanation of where he got it. The thing was very obviously magical; the boy may have accidentally triggered an effect from it. An effect derived from defiling magic. Perhaps he was no spellcaster after all.

[Grimtina]

"That's all I have left of my uncle," the boy says in a sad voice. "He died last year of some fever. I know I should rather sell it and have some money for a change but I can't bring myself to do that."

[RandomWombat]

Kaathrawk turns the dagger over in his hands and examines it from different angles. "This is nagical. Strong one, yes. Was near when it hat-end?" The templar gestured at the patch of defiled ground. "Nay hath triggered in accident. Will still need to 'ring you to Kurn. Thornal inrestigating. Test thuncting oth dagger." He glances over to his companions, "We hath ro'te, thor to secure his hands?"

[u-b]

Zalcor sighs. Just as it might be expected - when one starts to investigate too much, one risks learning too much. And now we have a problem of getting the guy north without a nice and simple pretext.

"Are you going to send him along with these men? Sure, I have some rope. Or, if you want me to deliver the boy, no rope is required."

[RandomWombat]

Looking up into the sky, Kaathrawk gets an idea - one that won't waste too much of their time doubling back. "I will thly out, thind ratrol. They cone here, take 'oy to city." Taking to the air without further ado, the birdman flies back along the road towards Kurn to locate a guard patrol.

Spot check: [roll0]