Dawn, Freezeday, Stasis week, Earth Season.

It's cold and everyone is sluggish, finding it hard to move. Not an auspicious day to travel at all. Only Ohanzee and Dark Claw seem to be happy to be up and about. The sky is overcast and what rays of light that break through are weak and barely warm.

As she packs the remains of her breakfast away Amara holds her hand up to examine it. All she's missing now are the last sections of her fingers and thumb, which should fully grow by the end of the week. Time had flown since the deals and promises made within the foreign temple, when moon magic had washed over her savaged stump....

Whispers had already departed last night with Greeshar as her bodyguard. Oaths had been made by the shaman Broken Claw, saying that he would not let her come to harm whilst as his guest.

The party had enough water to get them to the mountains where there should be water flowing in one of the permanent serpents that filled the massive gorge that split the Sandstorm Hills in two.

Now all that was left was to sort out the order of riding and begin the dangerous quest to rid the area of the diseased Harpies...
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:03, Tue 11 Aug 2015.

"I suggest we hit the uplands as soon as possible" growls Dark Claw, already armed and armoured. He points some five kilometres to the East where the land rises in a vast plateau, at who's heart stands the imposing Hills.

At it's southern tip can be seen the massive lone outcrop, all that remains of an ancient chaos beast killed by Storm Bull and turned into stone.

"I actually agree. The longer we wait, the higher the chance that the harpies can spot us. This is their territory, after all." Tarnessh said.

Eschewing metal body armour for the moment, clad in wyvern hauberk that'll give the Morokanth something to think about - us wyvern-killing, Hoskar has spent his usual time fussing sround Ram; checking his feet and hide for injury and ensuring arms, weapons and that disease cure are ready to hand.

As he presses his forehead to the rhino's horn before mounting, smiling at the apparently-sleeping Four Paws already installed in the comfiest spot to be found for riding, he murmurs his usual litanies to his father and his god: where once there was a garden, we ride to restoration. Issaries watch our path this day for harmony over chaos.

Not yet atop the rhino, he nods agreement to Dark Claw. Works for me: rhinos don't climb well, so the easier the way up the better.

Kobal finishes his breakfast, checks that all the bindings on Black Hoof are secure, and that Haaro is well nestled on the animal's back.

He ties a knotted rope around Black Hoof's black hoof.  "Great Khan guide the Beasts, Great Khan inform the Men, Great Khan ward off Death".

Waiting until the others are ready, he sets off towards the direction Dark Claw pointed.  "I hope you can keep up," he says, face impassive, as he rides past the morokanth.

Shivering from the chill on thr air, he gets himself ready and, after checking and readying Carross, he gets a bit of meat and gives it to the bad tempered, gray cat that he's decided to call Hisser. He follows Kobal, "I'll take the opposite side to you as we travel."

About to mount, Hoskar takes a step back...then turns to the Morokanth. I usually go up front to scout: position of danger and so on. Fancy being the first to kill some chaos today with me?

Whatever the answer, he mounts up to get to the fore and scan ahead; muttering a cantrip for vision.

"Mountains. I like the mountains."

Without so much as even a leer at Dark Claw the Condor brave Salen moves out in front, but some distance from Hoskar, the two forming the 'scouting horns' of the Wandering Rangers. He too powered up his Farsee, and scanned the horizon and skies for trouble.

Urging his rhino forward Ohanzee rides out to the left of the group with no more words to say.

It's not long before the Rangers have reached the start of the uplands, a steep but gradual rise through dangerous looking piles of boulders and steep sided ravines. It's as they search for a route up that Hoskar and Salen cry out a warning that nomads are approaching about a kilometre away, appearing out of the rough boulder filled ground.

Impalas and a fair sized group.

With the use of their improved vision the Condor braves see three riders break off and head in the direction of the Rangers.

Three Rhino Riders!

"Rhino riders heading this way," shouts Salen, giving the rest of the Rangers notice. "Looks like some of them and a host of Impalas. Those people seem to get everywhere, almost like they were scattered to the Four Corners of the World, eh Hoskar?"

Amara nudged Thunderfoot, urging her mount to head back towards the front of the main body of the group. She was curious to see which tribe it might be.