Helping to guide Sathras to the heat of the blazing fire Califax smiled.

Thats not a concern for this night.  What is, is that we need to be comfortable and rest well.  Once we've cooked you should be able to lie in the fire.  But not with the blanket, or we won't have it tomorrow night for you.

In reply to Califax (msg #54):

Once camp is made, Dii gets the blanket, bedroll, and her cloak from her gear bag and makes herself a makeshift sleeping area near the fire. She keeps her armor on, having spent numerous nights sleep in it in the past. She sets her weapons near her "happenstance cot" in an orderly fashion. She sits down and begins to stretch out and massage her legs for a bit. Then she gets a few strips of dried meat from her bag and eats slowly, attempting to enjoy her meal. She inwardly hopes that tomorrows travel will yield more possibilities to attain food and/or water while Scouting. But for now, it is unfruitful to worry about.

"Perhaps now would be a good time for one of your orders fables, Aaban. Have you a tale interwoven with hidden wisdom for us this night?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:33, Mon 28 Mar 2011.

Once they stopped to make camp for the night, Murron took care of his mount first.  He brushed it down throughly, and then checked its hooves for small pebbles or stones.  Finally, he watered and feed his mount.  Satisfied that his batra had been cared for properly, he relaxed a bit and when to relax by the fire.

After seeing his friend so cold, Murron quickly pulls out his blanket and puts it around Sathras' shoulders as he says, "here, this should help."

Aaban blinks away his reverie, looks up at Dii Ahnah.  "The Orders of Aa do not deal in fables and untruths, but we do have histories and allegories."  He looks thoughtful for a moment, then continues.  "Here is one my father told me when I was but a small boy. 

"A pilgrim, traveling alone, came upon another group of ten foolish Zandir who were on their way through the desert.  As he came upon them, the group was all in an uproar, and each of them seemed to be trying to count, all at once.  As the pilgrim approached, he asked, 'What is the problem causing all of this upset?'  To which the leader of the band answered, 'We have lost one of our number!  We set out as ten, and now only are nine!' 

"The pilgrim quickly noted that there were ten in the group, and asked, 'How is it you find only nine of you?'  To which, the leader of the band, pointing in turn at each other member of the band, counted, 'one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.'

"The pilgrim looked at the rest of the foolish band, and asked, 'Are the rest of you in agreement with this?'  Each member then, in turn, counted all the other members of their band, coming out with nine every time.  He then said to them, 'I know a way to find your missing companion, but you must do exactly as I say.'  They all immediately and eagerly agreed. 

"'Now,' said the pilgrim, 'gather all the dung from your mounts and form it into a great circle.'  This they did, becoming horribly befouled and smelly in the process.  'Next,' he said, 'all of you must sit around the circle, facing one another.'  They all did so.  'And finally,' the pilgrim said, 'you must each press your face into the circle firmly enough to make an impression.'  There was some hesitation, but the band's leader urged them on 'We must do whatever it takes to find our missing companion!' 

"They did so, each coming up with his face spattered and dripping in dung. 'There,' said the pilgrim to the band's leader, 'count the impressions in the circle.'  The leader did so, quickly coming to ten.  'Sir, how can we thank you?!' he cried.  The pilgrim simply shook his head, smiled, and moved on."

"That is the tale," Aaban sits back.  "I hope our little band will not come to it."  In the flickering light of the fire, it is hard to see, but his usual stern expression may have been overtaken with the smallest of smiles.

Throughout the travels, the care of the animals and camp set up, and even the story, the gaze of the Ariane is distant.  Her expression is calm and thoughtful.  After a few moments, she blinks and looks around the circle, then up at the sky.  The shadow of a smile almost pulls at her lips and she lays back.  Her voice rising quietly in song.

((If you want to know what she's singing, I'll type it out.  Otherwise, she's just singing to sing.))

Califax grins at the parable, tilting his head to listen as Shadow started to sing.

See, just goes to show that it is a wise man that thinks of himself as well as his companions.

Novo takes time--as he does most nights--to set up a couple of his arcane, meteorological devices, mumbling to himself rather animatedly as he does so. It's like hearing one half of a long conversation.

At a remove from the fire, he plants a thin, knee-high wooden pole into the ground. Atop is a length of metal tube, which coils around the pole and terminates into a round glass vial, etched with arcane and metrical markings. He cups one hand around the top of the tube and blows across the opening, almost flautist-like in his approach. There is a brief glimmer of blue sparks, which fades within the length of Novo's breath.

About a minute later, after making sure the device is working properly, Novo withdraws a simple metal tube from a belt pouch. Bound to this tube with wire is a glass vial. Within the vial is a milky liquid, light red in color. He holds the tube by the base, leaving the vial free. He stares intently at the liquid, which, over the course of a few seconds, turns from light red...to lavender...to pale blue...then to a deeper blue. "Yes, quite cold."

He wanders back to the fire, announcing on his way, answering a question that no one asked: "The very thing that makes the desert hot during the day is what makes it cold at night. Lack of moisture. My humidifactor--" --he points back towards the device--"--will bear out tonight's true metric in the morning. And we may even have a swallow of water in the collector for the trouble. But I doubt it."

He holds a carved bone smoking pipe to his lips, which he lights with a flame extended from the tip of his forefinger. There is a micro-explosion--and a small shower of green stars falls from the bowl. He puffs contentedly, whilst listening to the Aamanian's story.

"Aa be praised..." There is the slightest subconscious trace of contempt in his words.


(OOC: Post 900!)
This message was last edited by the player at 19:05, Mon 28 Mar 2011.

T'Vala chuckles and nods knowingly at Aaban's parable. Fortunately he does not get the feeling that will happen to this group. He makes sure he is well-bundled and takes up his hurlant, sitting down at the fringe of the camp, calling back to the others around the fire; "I will take first watch, perhaps pairs would work well for the watch through the night. Decide amongst yourselves who will take first watch with me then the rest can settle in for some sleep after deciding how to divide the remaining watches."

In reply to T'Vala (msg #61):

After seeing Novos display, Dii decides to grab her meadhorn and walk over to the "humidifactor". Without getting so close to it as to cause Novo any major alarm she takes a moment to position the meadhorn in the sand at near the humidifactors base, with the mouth toward the sky. With a smile she says to Novo "Maybe your scientific device will spill over into my primitive water-catcher..." She gets up and begins to saunter back to her "bunk", but stops again about 5 yards away. Without turning around she says "And before your lightning brain begins "power-pondering", I meant that literally." With that she continues her languorous walk back to her sleeping area.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:34, Tue 29 Mar 2011.

Shadow stands and moves out into the area away from the fire.  So she is directly across from where T'Vala sits.  She nods to him and then begins walking widdershins in a slow and large circle.  Her attention is turned out, into the darkness around them.

Ha! Ha!, Murron thinks to himself with derision while listening to Aaban's tale, dung on your face is funny unless you've lived with it everyday and can't wash the stink off you or your belongings.

Murron stands up and throws the continents of his mug into the fire, and wipes his mug out with his shirt.

He clips his mug back onto his belt, and then says, "I'll stand first watch with you T'Vala, if no one objects."

Novo puffs on his pipe, deep in thought.

Power-ponderings? What, by Arystotel's eyes, does she mean? I mentate at my current load constantly. How can any one pondering be more powerful then the rest? Oh, Skies above, if I'd just been born a Sindaran!

Water-catcher? Silly girl--there's not enough moisture within the hectare to fill my vial let alone spill over into hers! Perhaps she's making a joke...

I wonder how Scamandros is doing.

Where's my wine?

Perhaps I could petition the Cabal to petition the Lyceum to change the herb in my pipe.

This sand is smooth. Millennia of constant wind erosion. It's beautiful.

Wind chill temperature = 35.74 + 0.6215T - 35.75V (**0.16) + 0.4275TV(**0.16)


"I can take the watch closest the Dawn, with whomever wishes to join me. The transition from deepest dark to Day's birth is a profound threshold."

In reply to Novoptolomeo (msg #65):

"Since I will be scouting ahead by day, I'm alleviating myself from nightwatch duties. If anyone would like to dispute this they may attempt to dissuade me. But do so from over there." Dii points to an area off the road about 50 feet away. It's hard to gather the ratio of truth to jest in her statement, even though it appears rife with both...

She stops her circle and she moves to where Murron is and she bows to him.

"Please, feel free then," she tells him.  "I will take whatever everyone else wishes me to take.  Morning or mid-night would work well for me."

Califax shrugs and stretched out on his sleeping mat and blanket, folding his arms behind his head.

Not arguing with that desission Dii, someone prod me awake for the mignight watches.  I've stood enough of them to not worry too much about it.

It was a matter of less than a minute before his eyes closed and a light snoaring came from him.

Sathras waits until Shadow has returned from her walking. "Sathras wonder why you take late watch. Can Shadow see in night? Sathras not always see very well, dark or light."

"Yes my friend, I can indeed see in the dark," she replies.  "It is not an issue for me.  The sun, the moons, the stars, or nothing at all.  I can see clearly in almost any situation.  Most individuals have difficulty seeing at dawn and dusk.  If needed I can take the time of the rising suns."

She still stands, her back to the fire, and looks out over the landscape.

In reply to Shadow Seeking the Light (msg #70):

Shortly after making her statement, Dii bundles into her nest of sleep gear and outer garments. Within moments she is blissfully unaware of her physical surroundings.

"I will take morning watch. I rise before the suns every day."

People split up into watches as decided and those not on watch take their rest. The evening is very cold and everyone bundles up as best as they can. The night goes by uneventfully and the new day dawns over the desert. The early tasks remain to be divided; cooking breakfast, breaking down the campsite, keeping watch on the desert. Even early in the morning the temperature starts climbing noticably.

OOC: If there is any conversation or details people want to do in the morning while preparing to move on feel free to do so, otherwise I will move the day along...

As the day breaks, Sathras lethargically crawls to the first bit of direct sunslight he can reach and...



...simply sits and soaks up the sunslight, letting it warm his cold-blooded anatomy so that he can enjoy the day.

In reply to Sathras the Bold (msg #74):


Upon hearing movement from some of the others shortly after dawn breaks, Dii wakes and gets up, stretches out a bit, and grabs her bow and begins running off as others are organizing their belongings and preparing for breakfast.

Aaban will take whatever watch is necessary to be filled, without complaint or voicing preference.

Upon waking in the morning, he will check on gear, and his aht-ra steed.  Seeing Sathras warming in the sun, he will nod to him and greet him.  "Good morning, Sathras, Aa's blessings upon you this day." 

"Aa make suns shine? Sathras needs heat. Sathras will be up and moving soon. Old master used to make Sathras carry hot rocks to water in morning. Hot rocks warm Sathras fast." He lifts a handful of red desert sand and lets it sift through his scaled-fingers. "Metal in sand heat quickly, too."

Aaban nods, almost smiles, "Indeed, Sathras, Aa makes the suns shine.  Aa makes the wind blow, the rivers run.  Take your time, and warm yourself.  I believe it will be a busy day."