Another scorchingly hot day. More sandstorms than one can keep track of. Less water than gold in a thief's targets pouch. As Raznik looks around the dry scenery, he breaths deeply of the hot air, a reminder of when this desert was his home, a time long gone now after years of travel in the wet land of Derevaan. As he walks through the dunes, he is reminded of the harsh lifestyle that one is forced to endure if you wish to call the Burning Sands home. To those few who can, they find that it can be rewarding in mysterious ways.

Such is the case today. As Raznik climbs his way to the top of a particularly large sand dune, he can begin to hear the sounds of hammers on metal, loud, boisterous conversation, and the sound of large herd animals braying. Quickening his pace to a jog, the sand underfoot hindering his progress, he reaches the top to reveal an old sight he hasn't seen in over three years; a genie caravan.

Half a dozen enormous covered wagons float on misty clouds that don't seem to touch the ground and both Djinn and Jann genies litter the campground as well as a few groups of smaller humanoids, some with their own carts; likely travelers seeking refuge with the planar travelers. As Raznik makes his way into the camp, he is greeted with a wineskin and a leg of roast meat of an unidentifiable source though the succulent flavor it releases as he bites into it makes him not care. As is the usual custom with the genies who call this desert home, the Vizier of the Djinn leading this caravan comes to welcome him and share news of other lands and give some in return. The banter back and forth mostly consists of the prices of trade goods and any particular interesting people of note that have passed through lately.

The Vizier does make note of one person however, a sorcerer and slayer of the Efreeti that had terrorized the tribe of the former bandit Jatzee, is here in the camp and is the current excuse for the feast that is being doled out to all those in attendance. The vizier catches sight of the man in question and points him out to Raznik and excuses himself to tend to other matters.

The sorcerer doesn't look like he's a native of the desert though. Wrapped head to toe in black strips of cloth and covered by a black cloak with the hood up even in this heat, it's a miracle the man hadn't already passed from heat stroke. Anyone who lived in the desert for any length of time knew that black clothing was almost as deadly as the poisonous creatures or sandstorms that called the sands their home. Currently, the sorcerer seems to be fending off the inquiries of an eager dark haired man with loose dark red pants, a matching cape over a bare chest, and the bronzed skill of someone who's spent their life growing up in the harsh desert sun.

Holding up his hand to stop the man's questions, the sorcerer lethargically lets the words roll off of his tongue as if half asleep, "Listen, I'm flattered but I'm dead tired, and have had a day that would annoy a stoic monk let alone someone of my demeanor. If you insist on getting your questions in, at least allow me to get some wine and food in me first."
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:38, Sun 08 Apr 2012.

Raznik, content to remain uninvolved for the moment, finds a shaded place within earshot of the pair. Placing his pack down on the sand next to him, he sits and takes a swig from his wineskin and polishes off the roast meat.

Raznik takes a handful of the warm sand and lets it trickle through his fingers and be carried by the light breeze. It is good to be back in the desert of his home. Too many years have been spent in the rain and mud of the north. He looks over at the travellers and wonders about the strange sorcerer. How can he survive the heat covered in that tight black cloth?
This message was last edited by the player at 14:33, Sun 08 Apr 2012.

"Of course.  My tounge has gotten carried away and flaps more than a tattered banner in a sandstorm. However, you must understand I had dedicated many moons to hunting down that Efreeti.  He had eluded me at every turn, using unnatural forces and creatures to slow my hunt.  You however, defeated him and aided in the reclimation of my peoples' homeland.  I am indebted to you and yours.  We have much to discuss, but for now I will honor your request.  Please allow me..."  Solomon turned, his cloak snapping behind him as he moved off to hunt down wine and food with which to gift the man.  Strong wine! he thought with a sly grin and a clentched hand.  Something to loosen his own tounge.

Solomon had a feeling the Efreeti was not the only danger roaming the land.  Glory was to be found, and that glory would be had by Solomon.  Only through glory could he prove himself to the world and his people.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:56, Sun 08 Apr 2012.

Walking over to the nearest shade under a canopy set up next to one of the caravans, Temnir sets his bag down and leans back against the side of the giant wagon, letting out a sigh of relief as his limbs go limp as he settles into the cool shade. Looking about, the sorcerer sees none of the genies that are handing out refreshments though he does see a man sitting not far away with a mostly full wineskin.

Sighing at having to start interactions with yet another person before he can drift off into blissful sleep, he clears his throat and looks towards the man, his usual piercing mismatched eyes, the only thing visible and uncovered in his wraps, probably doesn't help to ease the man into helping him, "I don't suppose I could bother you for a swig of that? My legs seem to have forgotten their purpose in life and that incessant man probably won't be back for a bit."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:52, Sun 08 Apr 2012.

Meanwhile as Solomon set off in his search of social lubricant and food, he happens upon a group of travelers who seem to be quite enjoying theirs. Standing nearby is on of the Jann, standing silently and holding a serving tray with a selection of meats and fruits that are normally foreign to the desert. Sitting in a circle, the three travelers make quite the interesting party. A dwarf clad in holy vestments is hugging his wineskin and cracks an unheard joke as the other two, one of the most muscular women Solomon has ever seen and an interesting woman who, if he is not mistaken, seems to have what looks like a tail, burst out laughing.

"As-Salāmu `Alaykum," Solomon greeted the strangers.  It was a common phrase in the desert, meaning "Peace be with you."  Of all the strangers present the Dwarf most interested Solomon.  He casually glanced at the Dwarf looking for a symbol of his faith.  A leather bracer on Solomon's arm betrayed his own faith in Pelor, the Sun God.

Remembering what he doing he turned to the Jann holding the food.  "Sir, I seek to make a purchase of food and wine.  There was plenty of it around the camp, he simply had to be pointed in the direction of its source.  Solomon planned to ply the black-clothed sorcerer with enough food and drink to make him compliant.  His stories would surely be worth the expenditure of coin.

Seeing the handsome fellow approach, then look over her dwarven companion and not herself just won't do. Not unless the fellow liked men. That would be a pity. One way to find out though.

Felicia shifts her outfit, from more standard explorers garb to something considerably skimpier, but still pure white. She winks at her fellows, then stands and sashays over to the fellow so he can get a good look and comments to him, "Hello. What brings you to our little corner of paradise?"

She watches closely to see if he notices her now. After all, she is very well put together and knows it. If he doesn't notice now, she'll sadly write him off as a man lover.


This message was last edited by the player at 22:38, Sun 08 Apr 2012.

Solomon simply cocked an eye as the woman approached him.  He was torn.  He tried to maintain a certain amount of purity and honor at all times.  He wasn't one to fawn all over a strange woman, especially one from a strange land and possessing a tail.  Still, he was a man...and a straight one at that.  Those with an eye for such a thing would have noticed him stand a little taller, thrust out his bare muscular chest, and all his muscles tensed just enough to show off their definitions.  He was an instictive peacock.

"I am Solomon, and I do believe it is MY corner of paradise you find yourself in; of course, it could hardly be called such without your presence in it." he said with a playful grin.

Pleased that she both had his attention, and that he was reacting as a man who liked females would, Felicia returns his smile and flirts a bit as well, "Flatterer. I bet you say that to all the pretty girls." Felicia offers a hand in greeting. Instead of fingernails, you can see the silvery tips of claws on her fingers. "I'm Felicia Armstrong. Pleased to meet you Solomon."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:58, Sun 08 Apr 2012.

Raznik stands, brushing down his desert robes, and walks over to the strange sorcerer. He takes a final swig from his wineskin and hands it on. "Here, have your fill. I have had more than I am used to, anyway." Returning to his seat, he watches the man in silence for a moment as he drinks.

"I grew up in this desert. We would come across many travellers who did not understand the dangers of the dry heat, but you seem not to be suffering. May I be so bold as to ask you how you keep from overheating in such clothes? Any normal man would be a dry husk."

Solomon let out a deep chuckle.  "Indeed I do, but that doesn't make it any less true," he admitted.  He takes her offerred hand and tries not to flinch at the fact that it had claws.  He kissed the back of it and released it back to her.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Falicia, and I look forward to sharing many nights together," he flirted back.  "And while you tease my desires, I'm afraid they lie elsewhere this evenning."  He looked back towards the Jann, waiting for an answer to his inquiry.  As attractive as the cat woman was, there was someone that attracted his curiousity even more, the black-clad sorcerer.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 00:19, Mon 09 Apr 2012.

Shrugging softly, she studies the dwarf she had been travelling with.  Reaching over her shoulder, and adjusts the sword hilt there, shifting softly.  She runs a hand through her hair as she watches the felinic person, and the new person.  Giving a rustle of heavy chainarmor, she chuckles at 'solomon's display.  stepping over, she reaches out and pokes him in the chest as he puffs up.  Well she was going to but he deflated too quickly, and seemed distracted.  she turns and looks around at the gathered people, before stepping to the side, staring out into the desert.

Temnir chugs down a healthy amount of the wine before responding to its previous owner, "Believe you me, I'm not as comfortable as I look. Last time I was here I had the luxury of a group that could provide magical protection from the heat. I have no luck with that this time." He frowns a bit as he takes a smaller sip this time. "Anyway, if I look better than most men  would out here it's because I've only just arrived not an hour ago." More to himself than Raznik, "Damn them to hell, I knew I should have learned that spell from them..."

This would seem odd to Raznik as he had traveled nearly 4 days to reach this part of the desert and the other side was no less than 2 weeks away.

Soloman's attention turning back to the Janni, it bows its head slightly and a voice rings out softly in the back of Soloman's mind, "That will not be necessary traveler, we are here to provide. Please, take your fill." While it "speaks," it proffers the tray towards the paladin with one hand and motions to a crate behind it, floating on a similar misty cloud of vapor as that of the wagons, that is filled with magically chilled wineskins. "Also, if it pleases you, the Vizier will be holding a toast this evening in honor of our guests. If you can find the time, we would be glad to have you."
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:47, Mon 09 Apr 2012.

Raznik widens his eyes at this response. "It would be extremely wise of you to remove some clothing. You will find the heat becoming much less bearable in a very short time. Also, drink water, not wine, and lots of it." Raznik offers his half-full waterskin from his pack. "I will ask the djinn if they can help."

Raznik stands and approaches the nearest djinni, speaking with it in Auran. The djinni replies and moves to talk to the Vizier. "He will be back shortly," Raznik says as he sits back down. The stranger must have teleported to have arrived here so quickly. He would rather not pry, however. If he wishes to explain, the sorcerer will most likely do so in his own time.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:47, Mon 09 Apr 2012.

Solomon looked at the tougher looking woman as she made her approach.  Before she could say anything, her own thoughts seemed to distract her and she turned to face the desert.  Words from the Janni were heard but not with ears.  Solomon responded by clasping the man firmly on the shoulder in thanks.

"Your people's generosity is most welcomed.  It would be an honor for me to thank our host in person this evenning."  He hooked one arm close to his chest and started filling it with a mixture of meat, bread, cheese, and fruit.  Much of the offerred bounty were things he had never seen before.  He then made his way to the floating crate and retreived two skins of wine with his free hand.  "M'lady," he offerred in parting to Felicia.  He strode with a hurried pace back towards the man in black.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:29, Mon 09 Apr 2012.

As the bronze chested man approaches, Raznik looks to the sorcerer. "I have no desire to intrude. I will leave if you wish."

Turning his attention away from the wineskin and waterskin both to look at the object of Raznik's statement, he mutters something under his breath and looks to the other man and speaks quickly, "Might be best if you stay. Perhaps you can distract him and I can make a getaway. At the very least, maybe you can draw some attention to yourself as well."

The paladin drawing within earshot, Temnir spies the food and wineskins the man is carrying. "Maybe he's useful after all," he thinks to himself before greeting the man halfheartedly, "Welcome back Soloman, man of many questions."

Sighing, she scratched her arm, giving a quick check that all her weapons are at hand and easily readied.  She actually takes her warhammer off her belt for a moment, and hefts it, before tucking it back on her her belt.

Turning away, she rubs her tatoo'd face, and grumbling gently.  She looks at the gathered people and just smiles, a rather 'grimace' of a smile, definitly not making her look prettier. She looks around at the gathered people, and studies the gathered people.  What an unusual gathering.  But then everything was unusual here... nothing that seemed ordinary.  But then again, everything was strange recently.  She was just ready to take it one day at a time, and damned if this wasn't getting rather boring.  Where was the bandits, the wild animals.  AH, not everything could be exciting.  Who knows, maybe that peacock guy could prove an interesting distraction.  Wonder if he had any scars.

Sweating profusely beneath the steel that encased his hard body, Argyle walked along in silence.  The wineskin that he carried was nearly empty and though the cleric could easily fill it again with water, he preferred something a bit stronger.  Seeing the food and wine being freely bandied about, the dwarf began to wonder if he had perhaps died in battle and gone on to Gorrum's feasting hall.

"Funny," he thought to himself wryly, "I always thought it would be a bit cooler."

Glancing occasionally at his traveling companions, Argyle walked along in a heat and alcohol induced stupor.  Before he knew it, the tall, dark, and what human females would consider handsome man was upon them.  With a slightly suppressed belch, he returned the man's glance with a bleary-eyed one.  Keeping quiet as the cat girl flirted rapaciously, Argyle longed for some shade.  When none was forthcoming and the man named Solomon failed miserably at returning Felicia's attempted innuendo, Argyle belched loudly and clomped over to where the two women stood.

"Well, it appears that yer sexual charms are a wee bit off.  Either that or the lad's just not that into you.  I mean, I'd jump all over ya if you were a wee bit shorter and a bit more...beardy."

Finishing his last statement with another belch, the cleric creaked as he swayed slightly in the gentle breeze that wafted through the encampment.

"Questions are free, as are answers, but the knowledge we may gain from each other is invaluable."

Solomon holds out one of the wine skins and makes an offer of the some of the food.  As he does he glances at the other man.  Had these two been talking?  Was this other man able to loosen the sorcerer's tongue?  Solomon's glare was full of curiousity and a little suspicion.  "I'll ask you one more question for now.  When you've had a chance to quench your thirst, fill your belly, and rest your body and mind then I will ask for your story.  For now...what's your name?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:23, Mon 09 Apr 2012.

Steps up behind the cleric and taps him on the head a couple times with her knuckles, chuckling. "Nae nae, be nice" she murmers immitating him. "cannae ye see that he be a man of holy?  Fer all ye know, under his religion he must remain some drearsome virgin or that.." she chuckles.  "Ah mean, fer all of her skills it could be like tryin to bed one of dem fae folk... all glitter an no substance..." she chuckles. "Ah wonder, for what reason we all be gathered here. Surely the spirits have some hand in such actions,for such a heavily armored bunch ta be livin in this same spot at the same time aint normal thing."

Taking the offered wineskin and food from the man, he uses a hand to move his face wraps from their place in order to take a bite while managing to shield his face from prying eyes. Not answering right away, he finishes his mouthful and rests his arms on his knees before looking back to him, "Temnir. And if I do say so, I think a mouth that can't or won't close is something that runs rampant in that tribe. Jatzee himself was quite the chatterbox. And don't worry, I will answer some of your questions after I'm done eating. In the mean time, why don't you bother this charming fellow over here." With that, he uncorks the waterskin Raznik had tossed him and took a swig of it through his wrap before going back to the wine and a piece of the fruit.