Amara nodded pleased that the Queen allowed her such leeway. She nudged her toe against Thunderfoot's flank, urging her rhino to approach the oasis.

The Rangers congregate at the campsite just as darkness falls. There they find Tarosh and one of the oasis folk, a dark haired woman who is introduced as Kinamasi.

Guards are set and those Rangers wanting to find Whispers and Greeshar head over towards the oasis with High Llamas carrying empty water skins.

As they draw close the air becomes heavy, thick with the smell of sulphur and the buzz of insects. Dark shadows separate from the trees, revealing them to be armed Morokanth.

"Declare your business" comes the unfriendly greeting.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:08, Wed 02 Dec 2015.

Since the quest to marry the River and the Earth Ohanzee has not felt quite as at home in the Darkness as he used to, though he is determined to push himself remain connected if in a lesser way to the element After all, what use is a Raven shaman who cannot interact with spirits and creatures of Darkness!

So it is that he refuses the torch as he rides towards the oasis proper, instead relying on the sure-footedness of his mount and a slow speed. He is not surprised by the shadow separating from the Darkness about but disappointed in himself for not spotting the guards earlier.

At the challenge he answers "We are from the Wandering Rangers returned for our quest to rid the hills of the Chaos Harpy menace."

"Our business is with Broken Claw."

Having polished up and donned his finest metal armour by way of imposing costume, Hoskar composes himself to a bland yet solemn countenance they'll probably ask about Dark Claw - best be ready - can't shirk that responsibility as he walks beside the party heading for Hoofcrack; looking quizzically at some of his comrades - Amara for one - as he does so until light no longer permits and he must focus on following those with better night vision.

Carrying the shield that is the symbol of the Earth Knight's authority; sword sheathed and as a concession to diplomacy only the trader's staff in his good right hand, he nods appreciatively as Ohanzee takes the lead; remaining silent for the moment yet ready to speak words of conciliation should things turn sour.

"The Rangers eh?.....Broken Claw?.....Right yer are. Stay here, I'll be back in a moment."

The Morokanth vanishes back into the undergrowth, his half dozen comrades watching the Rangers carefully. Tough warriors these, bearing the marks of Waha and Darkness. Two have thumbs and carry large bronze axes, the rest spears, clubs and slings.

Familiars report of bound spirits and an awakened Gern somewhere in the bushes beyond.

These quite obviously were not the same young braves that the Rangers bested in the brawl earlier. These were most likely the males who were away with the khan, which of course means that it is likely that the khan has returned and that could be the herald of trouble given the bad blood between Two Thumbs and some of the Rangers.

As they wait Ohanzee asks "Malia still enraged since her whooping by the little guys?"

Ohanzee's question gets no reply from the Morokanths.

The air, not only muggy, feels tense to say the least.

Having bitter memories of certain Morokanth, Salen stands glaring coldly at those guards here. Most of his weapons are sheathed or tucked into his belt but he does carry a couple of javelins in his hand, either for show or protection, or both.

Tarosh quickly agrees to visit the Morokanth, leaving Kinamasi to help cook for the ones who stay behind. He carries a burning torch in his left hand, while his great axe is in his other hand, resting on his right shoulder. When they meet the welcoming guards, he remains quiet but alert, scanning the darkness for any threats.

After a ten minute wait the guard is back

"You can come in, follow me" and he leads the way into the oasis down a narrow path with thick vegetation on either side. The other Morokanths follow behind.

"Why don't we just send a message?" suggests Tarnessh before anyone follows.

Ohanzee shrugs "It'll be fine Tarnessh... Though someone could send a message back via their familiar to let them know we've been invited in." he adds feeling the coldness in the air amplified by the coldness of their would be hosts.

He urges Pete's High Llama on thankful for the extra height.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:08, Wed 02 Dec 2015.

With a composed smile on his face, Hoskar looks serene; as though out for a walk in the calm of a friendly camp for no better purpose than stretching his legs.

Glancing around to ensure their guides will overhear, but not raising his voice specially, he remarks C'mon. We are the messengers. It would never do to keep our friends' shaman waiting, would it now? Not for such good news, anyway.

Still vocalising the message to Four-Paws let's show we have nothing to hide here he adds Hey, cat. Pass it round we'll be a while: we're invited in.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:23, Wed 02 Dec 2015.

Amara shook her head as she walked forward, her shoulders high. "We are the wandering rangers. Do not be timid. Even should Zakeen have returned, Whispers has aided his tribe. If he's so poor a host as to deny us rest and our friends then when he needs our assistance in the future, he and all of his tribe shall wither into the sand."

The path winds this way and that, opening every now and again into large open spaces before narrowing once more.

It's when in the large, often swamp filled areas, that the Rangers see that there is a large group of heavily armed warriors trailing them on either side.

Of the Oasis folk there is no sign.

Amara sighed heavily, preparing to fight. "If it's a fight you are wanting, it's a fight you will have. Enough nonsense. Tell us what's going on and where my brother and the Seza are!" she shouted towards the morokanth.

Those Morokanth that Amara can see ignore her, or in one or two cases stop and stare.

Older braves, battle hardened and on home turf.

Still moving placidly along, Hoskar merely smiles and shakes his head.

If they wanted a fight, we'd be wondering what hit us by now he opines breezily to no-one in particular what with us being outnumbered here and everything. Maybe it's not much of a welcome after us putting a stop to their gern getting snatched from the sky, not to mention us mushing the local crop of pumpkin-headed chaos, but I'll take it.

All to soon the Rangers find themselves within the familiar central area of the Oasis, with its stinking mud, weed choked water and ruined adobe buildings.

The glow of several fire pits lends a sinister light to the area, the wood burnt down so only the glowing coals remain.

Deep shadows shift as if alive, moving out of the way as the braves are shepherded towards a collection of open sided tents, where a number of Morokanth recline, the sound of bubbling water drowning out any conversation that might be taking place there.

One by one the Rangers' torches are magically extinguished and as the last one goes out a strong voice greets the human arrivals

"Well, well well. Tada's little children...."

A chorus of rough grunts, Morokanth laughter follows and then the noise of heavy bodies shifting.

"You've some balls coming here."
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:09, Wed 02 Dec 2015.

Amara stepped forward "I think you know I have more balls than all of you. Now...why don't you explain what's happened and why things are as they are? Where are Greeshar and Whispers? Did they help your community?"

Hearing Amara step forward, Kobal steps forward as well, and speaks in the direction of the morokanth (or whatever it was that spoke).  In the darkness, and outnumbered, he strangely feels no fear.

"We are here also to speak to Broken Claw.  We have completed the task that was set for us, when the Black Mud clan asked for aid from the Earth."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:16, Thu 03 Dec 2015.

Ohanzee sits astride the High Llama, the many waterskins hung behind him on the beast and gazes about using the vantage point to try to spot other fires away from where they now stand.

He ventures no more comments as the other two seem to have covered all the points, all apart from collecting water for the beasts back at the rocks.

And as he sits there his mind thoughts come unbidden to his mind, a certain randomness to his thoughts that he should learn to control.

Still smiling blandly, Hoskar raises an eyebrow at the sound of the interlocutor's voice; but only the tightening of his fist round the grip of the earth knight's shield betrays any change in mood; and even then, only to the Rangers close beside him.

He inclines his head low in respectful greeting to whoever-it-is; offering a greeting.

We may not be natural friends, lord, yet hope we have given service to your tribe here. A lovable old rogue of a travelling companion of mine once said to never pass up a chance to make life easier, and for us this is one of those moments. If I recognise your voice aright, I think you might have heard him say that too. Like a father he was to me, for a time he reminisces; eyes seeming to go misty at the thought.

Anyway, you seem to have the drop on us here, but you did ask us in and I know Broken Claw will want to hear how things went. What now?

When his torch goes out, Tarosh drops it and looks around in the darkness. if they attack, we're dead, though we won't be the only ones As he listens to the others, he realises that some of the other rangers seem to know who is taking to them, which given their tone of voice isn't a good thing.

A cold rage surges through Salen as soon as he hears the voice. His lips turn to a snarl as he speaks.

"Whereas you have no balls at all. Do you...Zakeen the Murderer."