Early the next morning the remaining Black Shields ride off, carrying messages for both elders and family members of the Prairie Thunder and Sky Watcher clan. There was little ceremony in their leaving, with Bamled embracing his brother before they vanished in a cloud of ash and dust.

The rest of the day is spent with fixing equipment, looking after mounts, gathering gear, resting and doing whatever else needed to be done.

The previous evening Tarnessh completed the cleaning of various bits and bobs, Ohanzee shakes the Shakes and also over night manages to attune Yado's odd fetish.

Both Tarnessh and Amara decide to try attuning their crystals, a ritual that takes up the whole next day.

Anytime someone walks through the first floor of the Tower, they find that there is more and more furniture and bits and bobs appearing. Carpets, a stuffed mud shark hanging from the ceiling, shelves filled with jars etc etc, far more than could have feasibly fitted in the luggage that Indigo Hue had brought.

The Wizard is distracted, slightly grumpy and looks to be glad that the nomads are leaving.

And on the roof two statues can be seen peering over the parapet. Unmoving.


Just after dawn, on another clear day, finds the Wandering Rangers amongst their mounts, tying straps, adding spare water skins and sharing quick witted banter.

As usual Mordy is barking excitedly, Manul cats are hissing, Taya is munching on something horrible looking and far above a hawk circles keeping watch....

As is his habit, Hoskar is to be found checking his kit and filling an absurd number of waterskins just-in-case. So we're by a river now, but who knows? His sad-looking cat is burrowed under a hide on the pack rhino; the light seeming to hurt her eyes today. Not going near that stuff again. Wow.

Lightly-armed for travel , he nonetheless spends spare moments polishing up the new plate equipment Tarnessh fire-scoured; casting gratefully-beaming looks at his comrade. You made that look so easy, but I bet it was knackering. I really am grateful.

Time for the high road with the wind in our faces?

Salen, calling Mordy to his side, moves his Bison out and begins moving northwards

"Aye Hoskar, round 'em up, move 'em on....Time to find Kinope. Let's keep to the higher ground, be safer this way."

In reply to Hoskar Feather (msg # 217):

"Ah no problem, Hoskar. Honestly it was just what I needed to get my mind off of the shit we had to do that day. Now I'm glad to get out of this tower and back in the open plains." Tarnessh replied, mounted on Grumpfy "Hopefully we won't get pulled into any craziness on the way, but that doesn't seem to be our fate so far."

Henal checks over his gear making sure everything is ready. Looking fresh after having slept before taking a watch he jumps up onto the back of Whiteblaze and settles into his place in the formation of riders.

Yes, take the high road who wants to be cleaning mud off themselves every night. I'm glad to be away from that tower, the things lurking there are not something to face without more strength than we had last night.

Rikki settles at the front of the saddle cloth looking ahead at where the bison and rhino are walking while Henal checks all his weapons are clean and ready.

Melock checks his gear to make sure stuff he needs is close at hand. Amara, do you want to be with me while we travel?"
He mounts up and waits to leave.
Taya curls up in her smelly saddle bag, planning to sleep the day away.

When he awakes Ohanzee feels a little more resilient than he did when he fell asleep, perhaps because of a good night’s sleep, perhaps because Hoskar’s potion had done the job and rid him of the Shakes, perhaps because he had managed to attune Yado’s fetish, or perhaps because of all of these together.

After rising and breaking his fast with the others he sees to his mount as the Black Shields see to theirs preparing to depart, wishing them good hunting and a safe journey as they go.

Then he gathers a waterskin, a digging stick and a his pouch of tamarisk seeds taking sixteen of the twenty eight seeds gifted to him by the wise and ancient spirit.

He then rides out away from the tower towards the river, in the direction that the fire raged and he goes about planting the seeds in the freshly scorched ground and on each one pouring some water to help the germination.

Eight he plants in a large circle and eight in a large square and in each case ensures that there will be enough room between them as they grow. As he works he says an impromptu prayer over each seed.

Grow little tamarisk
In the fire cleared ground
Dig deep with your roots
Reach high with your crown.
Child of Aksuwhetu
May your life be long
Growing here still
After I’m dead and gone.




With the wizard and his slave being left behind in the tower Ohanzee has no need any more to remain in the middle of the marching order. He decides then to ride alongside Hoskar as he is interested in the place with stone tents that the Condor brave spent so long in. ”What’s it like in that place Pavis then, the one your mother still lives in?”

“What manner of beings live there under unable to ride away from the Lunar oppressors?”

"Stupid foreigners that don't know any better, I'd assume." Tarnessh cut in, then realized who he was talking to, "Except for you and yours, of course!." He added quickly. While he rode he looked for good smooth rocks that he could use to replenish his sling-pouch in case they ran into trouble. T
This message was last edited by the player at 17:16, Tue 10 Feb 2015.

Hoskar beams at Ohanzee's arrival, gladdened by his company and his choice to join him. Then he bites his lip at the question, brow creased in thought.

Pausing only to give an overstated bow to Tarnessh At your service he grins they call me two-foot in there because they reckon I've one foot either side the wall. Half of me thanks you for the pretty compliment. he turns back to try and answer Ohanzee; babbling out his memories.

That's actually quite difficult to answer: I don't know what it's like not knowing about it - been there so long, seen so many places really.

What was strange to me getting back out here was the simplicity of life. No need for guards to stop people picking pockets or mugging people in alleys. No nasty drunk fights, just good-humoured ones. Honour, I suppose, or at least community. The city's lots of little pockets of people like Corflu was; only bigger and older and harder.

Inside the wall, it's guards and stink and crowds and work and noise and beggars, and no weapon-fighting or you'll be in the halite mines.

But it's good too - exotic foods for a start. If we're ever there, remind me to find you some Zola Fel fermented salt fish: eye-wateringly good, it is. Had a barrel of the stuff till Krakka hijacked our rhinos. And then there's the bisonburgers. Ohh, the bisonburgers. Chewy, but great; and Bob likes a friendly nomad or two around - stops newcomers who know no better he glances playfully back towards Tarnessh thinking he doesn't use the peaceful cut.

There's deals to be done and fortunes to be made, like being able to trade instantly all the way from the Rocklands to the Paps. Good weapons, more metal than we'll see in the wastes in years. Strange visitors from far away too; although I never saw one quite as odd as Indigo Hue. Never a dull moment. And then there's the Rubble next door. Looming place, full of Uz and dangerous mysteries.

He shrugs.

I don't think I really understand what to tell you. So far I've not really said much about the people, have I? What sort of thing do you want to know?

"It makes no difference to me whom I or you ride with, Melock. So long as you are quiet, silent would be my preference and Taya stays in her home." Amara responded as she climbed up on Thunderfoot. She listened to Hoskar talk about Pavis with warmth in his voice, wondering why anyone would want to live in such a place.

"My, your in fine spirits this morning Red" He chuckles, "For you, I will still my tongue while we ride together. Taya will stay in her home, as long as Bright Treasure is in the sky." Good job the wastes are Taya's home, so there's no chance of her breaking my word.

"Well, how do people live there? They all stay in one place, and I assume that they can't all fish like in Corflu, so how do they get food?" Tarnessh asked.

"Warn her explicitly, Melock. If she eats anything that is mine. Her life is forfeit." Amara warned. "I care not for excuses or explanations, only results. So long as she does that I will leave her alone."

Amara prepared to depart, placing all of her weapons in the places where she could easily access them. She massaged her neck trying to ease the stiffness due to her sleeping in an awkward position the previous night.

"So... what exactly is the attraction to living only in one place? Does it not get very boring?" Amara asked curious. "We only spent a short time in Corflu and I thought it was rather...drab. Even the Priestess didn't want to be there."

"I can hear you" She replies sleepily, "Just so I'm sure what you mean, if I eat anything that belongs to you and you alone, you will kill me. So if its something the group owns, I'm safe." She thinks briefly, then sounding more awake and with a hint of mischievousness in her voice, "So who owns the ostrich?"

<Aqua>"It is perhaps more correct to say that if you eat anything that I need, I will kill you personally. I can only assume if you eat something belonging to all of us, we will all kill you."</Blue> Amara paused looking at the saddlebag "And the ostrich is still mine for the time being. When the time is right it will be sacrificed to help the Big pecker clan or the Ostrich peoples."

Ohanzee listens with interest to all that Hoskar has to say, but when he speaks of the rubble, or perhaps of the Uz, then he seems to be even more interested "Uz you say? Have you even seen any, me any even?"
This message was lightly edited by the player at 21:38, Tue 10 Feb 2015.

"So basically, what your saying is, to make sure I don't accidentally give you an excuse to kill me, I need to check with you before I eat anything?" she giggles, "Ok"

Amara leaned closer to the saddlebag "Now that is wisdom from the ages. Anything Melock gives you directly you can eat. Otherwise...you might be throwing caution to the winds and be spending only a little time with us."

Melock goes to open his mouth, then thinks better of it and just shrugs.

Hoskar looks nonplussed at the barrage of questions he's getting, flushing slightly at the level of attention his words have engendered, then smiles once again.

Ask me for the history of the Sartar kings and the exports of all the Shepelkirt's satrapies while you're about it he grins good-humouredly.

Okay. I'll try. Just remember: I was keeping my head down in there - don't know it all - and... he looks nervously round you know I didn't really belong anywhere before the Rangers, don't you? Why do you think Condor called to me?

Can't say why all of them like the city. Not sure all of them do. I liked it because if you don't really fit you'll rub along so long as you can work and tell a joke and buy your round with the rest. So many different people they don't care as much who you were sometimes. Not round the old bit of town anyway. Liked the excitement too. Arguments and chases and odd services. He leers suggestively Ulerians for starters; not all of them licensed. There's this broad called Goneera for one: lives close by the death temple and she can apparently... his voice tails off as his cheeks go red ...not that that was my thing he adds in visible embarrasment. Out here you can go for days seeing no-one unless you're in a group you know; in there it's talk with new people all the time. He winks. Why do you think it's so hard to shut me up sometimes?

How do they live? Well, they do grow things and the river is generous to them; but mainly it's trade - think how a tribe's redsmith lives. Doesn't tend the herd, doesn't raid much. Sells his skill and gets fed. Oh, and they have salt and metal to trade. While we're setting mounts to trees and thanking spirits for salt and survival they're hauling the stuff out of the earth in big chunks.

I guess it's what you're used to. Wherever I go people seem to think their own way is the only one. Think it was one of Gronya's relatives that got called "my way or the highway".

He pauses for breath, looking around to see if he's boring people. Uz and the rubble, you say Ohanzee? I'll have to get my thoughts straight on that one. Give me a bit and I'll have a story for you there.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:23, Wed 11 Feb 2015.

After a little while deep in thought, eyes turned skywards as he tries to bring his memories into order, Hoskar looks around his comrades.

Right. Settle in, folks. There's quite a bit to tell you about here.


It begins soon after I roll up in the city, shaken and nervous after that bad battle and fleeing north to escape the bastard Sables' mop-up. I am rather a wreck then, waking in the night seeing Jondar's face with that arrow in it and such. Becx has been out two nights straight, but one morning she is back and not saying much about her doings. She is wearing the expression of someone on the edge of a big thing – smug and kind of worried all at once. To this day I have no idea what she gets in trade, but she does say she is off again to see a man in the Rubble about a deal and wants everyone – me too – to bring a crate when sent for. Worryingly, she adds to me that if no word comes by Godsday I should get my two feet out of here to the wastes with Kor and as much portable property as can be shifted pronto.

Believe me, I am mighty edgy the next day; not wanting to lose my other parent so soon; and get a real kick when a message comes in before sunup the morning after telling us to be by the river quick. That is my first time face to face with an Uz. Well, an Enlo anyway – one of the stunted ones. Can't believe it, but the Lunars have got those little buggers enforcing curfews now, and they're a crafty bunch although this one seems nothing special. No fangs and his body is twisted a bit. But he's haughty and no mistake, like he's too grand to be taking messages for some salt-shifting Issaries type. All puffed up and wanting to be away while it's dark, he shoves me the note saying "this is for you, boy" then turns his back and is off like a rat into a sewer.

As you can guess, all this is top beans to me: mother safe, river trip, and a sight of the insides of the old walls. I am hopping up and down to be gone while the hired staff laugh at me when they think I don't see it and mutter about danger. It is quite a trudge round through the gate to the river, and wanting to keep things quiet we aren't leaving by the river gate either; but when we get to the jetty I see why Becx wants me there for manpower: there's this great big box in a boat ready to go and I am not looking forward so much to unshipping it later on.

A few rivermen are on board to guide the boat and push us off, and I think someone waves a permit before we're off. Largely, the current can just take you down in that direction, but rowing helps. It is eerie floating through those walls into the old city: the sheer size of them you'll not believe unless you see. Reckon all of us standing on one another's shoulders wouldn't reach the top and they're thick to match. What's worse, when you're past them and in it's like you're trapped there in a different world with no way back against the flow.

To be honest, I am not seeing much detail for most of the trip. The idea is not to attract attention in there unless you desire to win the runner-up prize in a missile fight, so I don't stand up and take in the view. To the right at first we could see the hill where they graze zebra, but everyone knows about that. And then we go under a bridge.

I think the riverfolk throw some sort of toll onto the bank for a guard, but I am just staring up like my jaw stops working. Built like the walls, those bridges: looking like one piece of stone shaped by centuried charms into an arch. Vast. And high. If the rumours about why they say Zola Fel is the river of cradles are accounting for their height...well...I would not like to be meeting the parents.

After that, we all hunker down and watch for trouble – the men tell me it's a bad area – but I pray to Issaries for peace and either he hears or we get lucky and it is quiet. One thing I do see, though, is an opening on the left. Room for a big boat to go in with walls set back from the river, but I am not wanting to go in there if I can help it: the water is darker than is wholesome, or so it strikes me. I enquire later and am told there's a complex in there – some experiment or other from before the old city falls. It gives me the shivers back then, and I'm not sure I'd like it much now.

So there I am, totally creeped out and staring so hard at the left bank for trouble that I miss the rest of the view till it's starting to go dark and we're going under the last bridge. I must have been losing it with the tension by then, for I think I see a man with leaves looking down at us and spend some time checking I'm awake because it just all keeps getting stranger. Past the bridge, the right bank is green as far as you can see and the left is troll ruins: old buildings with new junk. The lads are getting less twitchy now – they say we're less likely to be jumped by bandits here – but I am well relieved when we pass through the walls again and are out; and still happier to see Ram there on the bank with a couple of sturdy fellows I know mother hires when there's hefty lifting to be done.

I am not going to bore you with how we heaved that crate out of the boat – hard work doesn't entertain. One fool almost had Ram's eye out, and my little heal charm came in handy once we'd convinced him the man wouldn't look prettier with a horn up his arse. Took three goes of healing – he's still got the scar.

It gets interesting again when we've lugged things up to where the wall on our left gets ruinous. Can't imagine what it takes to knock it down like that, but it reminds me of that place we camped before we attacked the shaman at the Finger Holes: giant masonry scattered by some massive force. That was before you joined us, Ohanzee – remind me and I'll show you when we get back there. Anyway, there is Becx waiting for us with altogether too many Uz for my liking in the starlit darkness. Big fellows with fangs either side of their jaws and snouts rather than noses, plus a gaggle of the little ones running round having what sounds like orders barked at them although I don't understand any of it.

The word I am getting along the way is to keep back, stay quiet and speak Trade if I have to as they don't like not to understand. Oh, and if any of them says something is his, don't touch it with any body part I want to keep. Thanks to this, I am not putting myself forward for conversation but keep quiet and play nervously with a black stone I found while fleeing the battle. Nothing special, but someone had carved an open circle into it.

Do not be letting anyone con you into thinking the Uz aren't organized: one word from the bigger of the two standing with Becx and the rest are jumping to it. That crate is off the rhino and into the hands of the biggest four of anything two-legged I've ever seen before you can say winking and Becx has a pouch in her hands from one of the little ones who is surprisingly well dressed. Flunky perhaps.

I am taking all this in, turning the stone over in my hand, when the other big Uz that was by Becx is standing right by me. He moves like oiled velvet – I hear not a thing till he is on top of me, all fangs and unreadable expression and me only just coming up to his chest wondering if I'm on the menu.

"You give me that, I give you this" he is saying in passable Trade. He is pointing at my stone with one hand and holding some sort of chinking pouch in the other, and I am not about to argue. "Deal", I quaver and hold out the stone; which he takes from me surprisingly gently. I remember the touch of his hand is as rough as dry old leather, but I am not thinking of much apart from not running at the time. He plonks the purse in my other hand, and is gone; and when my vision clears from panic and I look up there is not an Uz to be seen anywhere.

I still have no idea if he 'tyried me or not: that stone could have been anything from a worthless carving to the tear of his god and I'd not care. For all I know, he is taking it for a snack. Not that I mind either way – I am still alive to talk of it and that's what matters.

I don't recall much about the trip back. We just went outside the wall and I was dog-tired, but I do remember Becx is grinning like Melock's familiar there after a hearty meal and is pleased with me. She is shaking too, though – when I greet her after the deal, I can feel it through her hands.

The pouch? I still have that. Quite a lot of troll coins in there. Could use them in my sling, but I keep them as curiosities. Want to see?

This message was last edited by the player at 13:34, Thu 12 Feb 2015.

Ohanzee listens to the tale with some interest, though when Hoskar mentions that his mount needed healing his curiosity is piqued a little more and he becomes obviously engrossed at the talk of the Uz and trollkin.

Once Hoskar finishes he replies to the question ”Yes, I’d like to look at their coin.” He also asks ”You mentioned a healing charm that you used on your beast? If you still have it then maybe you might think about trading with another since you have the healing matrix from the Wyvern too. That way all the eggs are not being carried in the one hand too.”

In reply to Ohanzee Shappa (msg # 237):

Oh. Sorry to disappoint on the charm, but that's one I know not one in an object. Mother pretty much insisted on it before I went anywhere alone. Not sure father was keen though - not Waha's way to have men running around healing things really. Much less powerful than the armlet, mind you.

He rummages about for the pouch on his saddle and pulls out a misshapen lump of lead with a vague outline of an Uz's head on it to show Ohanzee. Believe it or not, that's an Uz coin. I've still got quite a few - you can have it if you'd like.

”Oh don’t worry, I’m not disappointed, I just thought that if you did have a charm then someone else might use it.” He grins ”Not me, I’m used to being healed rather than doing the healing!”

He looks at the lumps of lead in the pouch ”Thanks. What are they worth? I wonder if they can be turned into anything else.”

Hoskar grins again. I'm not being too generous with you here. One of these - "bolgs" I think they are - is worth less than a clack as far as I know. Issaries knows what they're worth to the Uz: never tried trading with them. Still, it's an interesting little thing all by itself.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:28, Thu 12 Feb 2015.