Penny followed Alice and Crimwall into the nomad camp. Though she did her utmost best to keep a keen eye out while the professor spoke to the leaders, she was soon quite bewildered. Everything was so hectic, so foreign, and so hot, that she was soon out of her element when it came detection and deduction. What did sand on one's robe signify here? In the end, all she could do was smile at the girl touching the lace on her dress and hope that Crimwall indeed knew what he was doing.

He certainly sounded confident. 'A day or two?' Penny exclaimed in surprise and consternation. She didn't like the delay; it was too long, too easy for an enemy agent to set up a trap. 'Did they say why?'

'We do not have gifts to give them in exchange.' Penny had packed light, after all, only what she needed and could carry on her person through the portal. Well, she might have a souvenir spoon she could part with...


OOC:
Keeping alert at the camp: Spot 12, Sense Motive 17

And on the journey: Spot 22, Listen 28

Ride 8, poor Penny's in for a bumpy ride. :(

Alice tried to console Penny, ”These are a proud people, and tradition rules their lives. We are a chance for feasting and celebrating. You are correct, they will not expect us to reciprocate. Penny, this is important, do not say you like something they have, they are required to give it to you. You can agree that something is beautiful or such, but be careful not to express personal interest.” She turned to the Arab man who seemed most in charge and asked him in French, ”Do you speak French?” She switched to Italian, ”Or perhaps Italian?”

08:40, Today: Mary-Alice Reussoe Conner rolled 23 using 1d20+4.  Listen Check.
08:40, Today: Mary-Alice Reussoe Conner rolled 20 using 1d20+7.  Spot Check.
08:39, Today: Mary-Alice Reussoe Conner rolled 10 using 1d20+8.  RIde Check.

'Yes, of course.' Penny agreed. 'As proud and tradition-bound as the English, I'd wager. It is just time we can ill-afford right now. Too much may go wrong while we wait here.' she explained worriedly. She quieted and smiled pleasantly when Alice then spoke to the Arab man. Two days!

ooc: Disclaimer! I'm sorry if I get some of the cultural stuff wonky. I did a bit of research but not as much as I liked because I realized it was taking up all my posting time! hahaha!

The Arab man, Adhid is his name, looks surprised at Alice's forthrightness and after a moment of hesitation, gives a nod, responding in French, though it is thickly accented and a bit hard to understand. Some French, yes. Many of us here have some knowledge of it. My wife is better at it than me, he adds with a smile.

As the day passes, it is clear that the culture is quite different from your own. You're used to being second place as women already, but this is something else entirely. The women are usually separated from the men, doing much of the caring for the goats and sheep and interacting little overall with them. Children run underfoot, playing and helping when their mothers can get their attention. You are given coffee, strong and mixed with cardamom and quite thoroughly splendid. Ian, Peter, and Crimwall are taken to the men's tents, Ian giving a lingering look back at you all as though he wished he could stay. He doesn't like Peter and you get the sense he's far more comfortable with the rest of you than Crimwall. Meanwhile you are left to the women's tent, Emma looking displeased that you'll be sitting on the grown, grumbling about her old bones, but she manages to plop down on the thick rugs after some effort. Adhid's wife, Tasmara, informs you that there will be a sheep slaughtered for a feast that night in your honor. Her French is actually surprisingly good for those who understand it. Emma knows a bit but Lily is completely in the dark and looking displeased about it, always asking anyone she can what you are talking about.

While feasting preparations are underway you are given clothes more appropriate for the heat. Loose black robes that are surprisingly beautiful and do much to air out your poor hot bodies. Emma in particular looks delighted with how much better it feels, but the poor fool was wearing a corset and stays the whole time, always fashionable even in the desert.

Riding the camels goes poorly for both of you. Penny falls off three times and Alice twice. Lily laughs and laughs, not falling at all of course. Her Native ways seem to serve her well here. Emma though, can't even seem to get on the blasted thing, and her red sweaty face huffs and puffs obscenities you are grateful no one can understand.

The feast that night is exquisite. You never knew food could taste so layered and complex! Spices you would never have thought to use are intermingled in the meat, along with many you've never tasted. The men get first go at the sheep, then the women. Across the way Ian gives an apologetic look as he gets his meat, clearly not liking the inequality and feeling guilty about it. Peter makes a face at the taste, not liking it obviously, though having at least the sense to hide his disgust when his host inquires how he likes it.

That night as you lay in your tents, the sounds of the camels and goats making it difficult to sleep, you both hear whispers from several yards off. A man and a woman. Should you poke your heads out to look, you'll see to your horror Peter and a young woman sneaking off together, hand in hand...

Alice poked her head out the tent and realized at once what was occurring. There was no need for subtlety here. She called out loudly, “Peter I swear to the Lord Almighty if you don’t get back in your tent ALONE, I’ll open up your skull and leave your damned body for the coyotes, you hear me!?”

Through the day, Penny naturally spent her time with the other women, gamely helping with the animals and chores with a pluck and willingness the others might not have expected of the fussy noblewoman. It just about made up for her lack of skill. But of course, as a girl, she had done whatever she could to escape Father and the grim Darkmoor house, and the only way to do that was to go out into the moors and the farms, taking refuge with washerwomen and farmer's wives, even if it was just to do chores for a few hours. They'd been the only women she had to look up to and learn from. So, here and now, she learned all she could from Tasmara and the other Arab women, and tried her best not to sound patronising.

*

That night, Penny was trying to sleep off her delicious repast, and hoping the spicy foreign food wouldn't upset her stomach too much, when she heard the startling cry. Instantly, she sat bolt upright, her first thought being to fear they were under attack by demons or other monsters – a natural instinct for a Hunter – until she realised it was something much more mundane.

Penny dashed to the tent flap, peering out to see and warning 'Alice! Quietly! We must preserve the young lady's honour. Not risk shaming her in front of the whole tribe.'

She pulled on yet another robe and marched out, slippers sinking into the warm sand, saying in French 'It's appropriate here for you two to have a chaperone. Let us wake Emma or the young lady's father to accompany.' While the suffragist might rail against sexist and patriarchal attitudes, they were awfully useful at times.

Peter jumps at the sound of Alice's words, glaring so angrily you can feel it even in the dark. The woman, at mention of her father from Penny, immediately runs back towards the tents before anyone can notice the commotion, and you can't help but feel relief that she at least has that much sense. Peter comes storming up to you both, looking more than a little surly. In spite of his temper though, he has the wits to keep his voice down, speaking through gritted teeth.

You wanna keep your trap shut Alice? These aren't the types of people to take fraternizing lightly. And I wasn't going to do anything, just chatting with a pretty woman, no harm in that! I'd say you'd be better off minding your own business and keeping your nose out of mine. And if you think I'm afraid of you, you've got another thing coming. He adds warningly. His anger doesn't seem to be towards Penny, who was a bit more...diplomatic in her censure, but you can tell he simply doesn't like Alice, but then her usual threats have a way of putting people off.

Meanwhile in the tent behind you, Lily and Emma don't even stir. They are sleeping soundly so hopefully no one else in camp is aware of what happened. You're just glad you put a stop to it before it could become something else. For, no matter his assertions, you have a feeling talking was not his intentions towards the pretty young woman.

Alice glared for a moment, but her anger was raised now. She had warned this man, and he had ignored her. She moved up to him and QuickDraw jammed her pistol in his gut, just below his belt line. He might have been mad but she was now furious and she didn’t give a damn who heard her. ”YOU LYING LITTLE SON OF A BITCH!” She put her other pistol under his chin and thumbed both hammers. Then her voice went the opposite way, so quiet and calm it was somehow more intimidating than the shouting. ”I will not tolerate this behavior. You are a grown man, act like one, or I will kill you. I’m from Texas, we prefer frounteer justice. We don’t need you, and if you think you are indescpincale you are mistaken.”

10:10, Today: Mary-Alice Reussoe Conner rolled 18 using 1d20+7.  Intimidate.
This is no idle threat, this is more like a last warning. He might bluster a big game but I’ll put money on Alice’s gun hand, and the desert to take care of any evidence that might get left behind.

Alice kept her voice down but her anger is up, ”So either keep that little thing in your trousers or choose where I’ll shoot, head or other head.”

Infuriatingly, he does not react. At. All. He merely looks at you with his pretty blue eyes and they turn cold. Victoria must not realize how rabid you really are. You'd risk these people's hospitality, our cover, the very mission itself, just to put me in my place? You are reckless and selfish if you can't put your anger aside. The lady and I had business together. It was HER choice, she's a grown woman and I would not have done anything that she would not have wanted, that you can believe. He says firmly. And you do believe that much. He continues, face calm but in that same cool, displeased tone. I will put my passions aside but you need to do the same before you get us all killed. You may be good with those guns but you're no hunter if you can't make sacrifices, even if it's just your own fury. Oh, and if you think I'm afraid of you, I'm not. You know nothing about me. Absolutely. Nothing. With that he turns and walks away, completely unconcerned. By now several Bedouin have scrambled from their tents, coming to see what the commotion is about.

ooc: Sorry, he's actually a really formidable character when it comes to combat. He's got a few layers to him you don't know about ;P

Alice, undaunted, hissed at him as he walked off, ”Anytime you want to try me you know where to find me.” She turned to the Bedouin, and putting on her best calm face, sliding her weapons into their holsters she held up her hands and spoke in French, ”Please, please sir’s and ma’dames, there is no need for you to leave your tents. This was a personal matter between me and my...companion. I assure you none of your people are in harm’s way. Please please return to your tents.”

'Alice!' Penny hissed in alarm as the other woman escalated matters irreparably by drawing her pistol. A thousand fears raced through her head: that this feud would cost them the tribe's hospitality, their aid, and the mission; that it would end in bloodshed; that the mission would fail; that Belial would win. Both Peter and Alice alike were proving to be as much a liability as they were an asset. Those bloody Americans! In the end, Penny could not get a chance to interject as the argument ran its course and Peter departed; she had a few words herself to say, but perforce left them unsaid as the Bedouin emerged.

While Alice tried to play down the matter, Penny just looked mortified and hoped it stuck. She really needed to talk to Alice about her profound lack of tact.

It takes a bit but the Bedouins do calm down, still looking curious and uncertain, but they are not the type to pry, no doubt it is seen as impolite. When Alice returns to the tent, Lily gives her a knowing look and simply says, Peter. Had to be Peter. Emma, however, looks just as uncertain as Penny and exchanges worried glances with her. Normally the type to speak her mind, she's grown tactful over Alice these days. Perhaps she's had the woman's gun thrust in her face enough times to keep her quiet.

Fortunately the rest of the night passes peacefully enough. Morning comes, hot as ever and the rest of the day passes abominably slow. You try your hands again at learning the camel and it's a tad better this time but not much. Ian asks about the altercation the night before, wanting to know what the fuss is about. Should you choose to indulge him he reacts similarly to Lily, just grunting, Peter. with a growl. As for the man himself, Peter ignores all of you. He's clearly not happy to be here and, after all the acid he's had to take from Alice lately, he's looking quite surly himself. Crimwall also looks a touch uncertain, noticing everyone's moods and trying his best to lighten them, both for you and your hosts. Fortunately his enthusiasm is appreciated by the Bedouin and they are put to rights easily enough, even if Peter glowers and sulks the whole day through.

Much of the day is spent with the women, same as before. You are fed incredibly well and the women ask you a thousand questions in French, which drives Lily mad. She doesn't speak a word of it and seems to be aggravated to forever ask who said what. You also note the young woman from the night before, also sitting in the women's circle, embroidering a shawl and watching you carefully with a hint of worry. No doubt she fears her little escapade with Peter will be made public information and anytime one of you speaks she stiffens in dread.

Blessedly, you have only that night left before you can depart in the morning. It can't come soon enough for most of you. Much as you enjoy the people, watching everything you say is wearing, not to mention the separation of genders. You hardly get to see the menfolk. What little you do see of Ian he looks tired and obviously lonely. Crimwall is a whole different animal from the usually peppy hunter, and of course Peter is Peter, there isn't much to be had in his company. Add to that, that the poor Scot doesn't speak French either, he's very isolated indeed.

ooc: Ok, let me know if you have any plans the rest of your time here. I'm going to move you along to when you leave.

Alice will translate for Lily and Ian whenever possible. When she has a moment to herself she goes to Emma. ”M’Lady, I’ve heard that women of your sort can...well affect a man so that...” she whispers,  She went on, ”I was thinking that if you did this to Peter, he might not be so much trouble from here on out in this particular adventure and I can breath a bit easier.”

OH PLEASE say yes....

Whenever she could get a chance, Penny asked the Bedouin all she could about the area and particularly about Qumran, so that she might be well-prepared for the hunt for the Key of Solomon. She also learned their legends and lore, and especially the monsters that lurked in the desert, such as ghūl, qarînah, and djinn (the last when Ian was not in earshot), both for general knowledge as a hunter and to become aware of specific threats in the area. Unlike in England and America, where Penny would paint herself as merely having a faddish interest in fanciful stories of the occult and legends, these nomad people, like the Indians she'd met earlier, held their legends much more closely, believed them to be true, and still took proper precautions, all things westerners would dismiss as simple superstition.

OOC: 15:18, Today: Penny Dreadful rolled 27 using 1d20+9.  gather information.

On the last night, Penny looked up from her cross-stitch, surprised to see Alice approach Emma. Fearful of another conflict, she began to listen in, and surprised again to hear Alice, of all people, beg a favour from Emma. That Alice was now willing to work with the witch was welcome enough news that Penny didn't immediately intervene to quash the idea. She wanted to know what was possible before she argued against it.

Emma listens to Alice's request with a split second of confusion, then as she realizes what is being implied, she startles you by laughing. A lot. Oh! Oh can you imagine how useful that would be!? she chortles. Oh I love it! Good heavens, what a wonderful idea! she wipes her eyes. Of course if I knew how to do that I could've kept my Richard away far better whenever he pawed at me in the night. she shakes her head. You know, I did know of a witch once, an Irish fellow, very good looking too. He had a way of putting one out of commission when he wished. He'd just look at a person and clap and then they...well they had related problems if you get my meaning, she arches her brow pointedly. Never did learn that one, but I hear it's a nasty thing to pester someone with. But I think I could find a few methods to be helpful to you when it comes to Peter. If you can get me his shoes I can do a little trick. Lets me track him wherever he goes. He won't be able to sneak off and make trouble without me knowing where he is.

Alice was very disappointed to hear that Emma couldn’t do the...thing...but she made another offer. ”Hmm...I’ll have to figure out how to do that.” She turned to Lilly, ”Whatta ya say? Wanna steal a shoe?”

While Penny had not heard all that Alice said to Emma, and would likely be blushingly bewildered if she had, she had to interject at this juncture. 'I pray you reconsider this. We have only one more night with these people, it would behove us not to disturb the peace with another nocturnal argument. Besides, Yasmin is suitably spooked, Peter is chastised, and Ian shall be watching him like a hawk.' she pointed out, Yasmin being the young lady with Peter last night. While others might make harsher judgements, Penny was open-minded and had seen the future, so she just thought her to be young and foolish, perhaps lonely among her tribe and easily wooed. She could not fault her. 'And we must still work with Peter for the rest of the mission. Angering him will drive a wedge between us and threaten the mission. He may be a reckless cad, but he has done nothing criminally wrong, nothing that deserves some curse upon him.' Penny, meanwhile, was old before her years, and far too sensible, level-headed, and indeed dull for mischief-making.

Alice cocked her head at Penny, ”Tell me Lady Dreadful, have you ever heard the term Stick in the Mud? Because you are one.” Then she grinned and used her finger to push her hat up on her head. ”That girl,” she pointed at Yasmin, ”Is way to young to make such a decision. You might be open minded but her people ain’t. Here she would have been horsewhipped, probably to death, for seducing him while he would have walked away scottfree. Fact is we don’t need him, he is a liability at best. I ain’t dropped him and left for the coyotes yet but I got him in m’sights. One more of his bullshit schemes and I’ll drill a hole in his damned head. I ain’t sure yet which one, though.”

Then she looked at Yasmin and spoke in French, ”Girl, I ain’t the bad guy here. That fool who tried to sweettalk his way under your skirt is, and you’re too young to understand that. Much as I dislike it, I ain’t tellin your folks on you, but you gotta have a better head on your shoulders. I mean really, going all doe-eyed over some loser like him, please, he ain’t even got two nickels to rub together.”

'That's not what I said—!' Penny started, irritation writ across her face at the aspersions and the idea she would condone this sort of thing. She was about to explain further, but Alice had already turned to speak to poor Yasmin. Huffing, fuming, Penny returned to her cross-stitch, trying to sew a neat little X in the aida cloth. But she'd missed the hole and put the needle partway into the next square. Muttering a curse, she tried to unpick it.

Lily looks delighted by the chance to steal a shoe, no doubt relishing the idea of doing anything but she's cut short by Penny and Alice's exchange, watching the pair carefully as though unsure which side is better. Instead she falls silent while Emma plops down next to Penny, noting her cross stitch sympathetically and making pleasant conversation as though to distract her from her irritation. It's funny how much the woman has found her place in your little group. Naturally you don't trust her, but she's come a long way from when you first met and she's clearly growing more comfortable.

Meanwhile Yasmin listens to Alice's advice with wide eyes, still looking around to be sure no one is eavesdropping. At last she speaks, in very broken french. He promised me nothing. Just...him. One night. I was foolish. Forgive me. she blushes deeply. Then she adds quietly, Don't tell my husband. Considering you didn't know she was married, it's a struggle to control your surprise.

The rest of that day passes uneventfully. Even Peter seems to behave himself, though he looks as bored as the rest of you feel. Crimwall seems loathe to leave and Lily has to tell him firmly not to finagle another day here on the sly. He claims he would never but his expression of disappointment outs his intentions. Lily repeats herself with a face that could stop a mountain lion in its tracks. In the end you receive several offers of riders to come with you to Qumran but after glancing at the menacing Indian, Crimwall politely declines. Tomorrow. You will have freedom tomorrow. No more stewed goat, no more endless pestering from the children or gossipy women, no more gender segregation, something you're sure Ian will be grateful to see the back of, and no more worrying about Peter. Ah. Morning can't come soon enough.

ooc: Ok, I'm going to move things along soon so feel free to finish up here. I'll be moving you along to Qumran next so please roll spot/searches and such so I'll have them ready when the time comes. Then we'll see how hard it is to find the scrolls. Also, roll rides too please so I know what kind of a trip you had. You can add a +1 from all the practice you've been doing. :)

Penny continued much as she had before, conversing and helping with chores, cross-stitching in spare hours, and making notes on what she'd learned from the Bedouin, about the djinn and other monsters of the desert. She wondered if they had their own hunters, of a sort, who might know the true lore of such things. But she knew well it was difficult enough finding a fellow hunter, who perforce did not wish to be found. She could only hope they would have no need whilst they were here.


OOC: I don't have much to add or do at this point.
Spot 24, Listen 28, Search 25, Ride 12

Sorry swamped at work and holidays
09:42, Today: Mary-Alice Reussoe Conner rolled 22 using 1d20+7.  spot.
09:42, Today: Mary-Alice Reussoe Conner rolled 16 using 1d20+9.  Ride.

The rest of the journey goes by smoothly enough, though Penny still has some difficulties with camel riding. At least she doesn't fall though, and after a few pointers from Lily she manages to figure out some coping mechanisms.

Peter is surly and quiet the entire time, shooting glares at Alice when her back is turned. His seething dislike for the woman is obvious but he gives her no reason to go after him so that's something at least.

The Bedouin provided you with plenty of food and water as well as more desert appropriate clothes, therefore you are far more comfortable than you were starting out. Eventually you reach your destination, a dusty excavation site that looks more like rubble and rock formations than anything else. There are a few half unearthed stone walls and stairs that lead nowhere, but mostly it is unremarkable. You are a bit surprised. All this way? All this way for a few stairs and a wall or two? There are clear markings and tools from excavations but you seem to have missed them thankfully. The last thing you need is to try to explain yourselves to a bunch of dusty archeologists. You search high and low and find absolutely nothing. Emma is most put out, even now handling the heat poorly. She is drenched in sweat and red faced and flushed. Mostly she sits under a parasol and fans herself. Lily isn't much happier but she handles herself better. Peter and Ian both search with silent, determined faces and Crimwall just looks delighted to be there, exclaiming over every rock, every sign of civilization. It is both endearing and exhausting.

An entire day you search. You find an occasional hieroglyph here and there, which Crimwall eagerly translates, but nothing seems to bear any significance. With the heat and the dust, it's easy to get snippy and it's difficult to keep tempers in check. Then something happens. Penny spots movement quite a ways off on the limestone cliffs. A lone figure, moving slightly from time to time but mostly stationary. You have no reason to believe it, but you feel like they are watching you. They are so far away you can barely make out they are human, but the form, the movement, reveals that much is true. Should you start to get closer, Penny hears it. Whistling. Not just any whistling, but some sort of jaunty tune you do not recognize.

ooc: Climb checks if you're inclined to do anything about it :)

Alice volunteered, ”I’ll go up and have a look-see.” She grinned at Crimwell, even favoring him with a wink before going to try and climb the wall. First she gave it a long look to try and pick out the best route, then she carefully picked her way up, taking her time with it.

Taking 20 on climb for an 21

For long hours under the blazing sun she searched, but Penny remained resolute and thorough. She knew the trail was millennia-old, that they had only an ancient scrap of parchment to tell them the Key had once, however long ago, been somewhere in this parts. She knew this site had already been excavated, several times, that she would have as much luck searching the collections of the European archaeologists. But there was something more than research, investigation, and deduction at play. There was faith, hope, and desperate need to find something they could use against Belial. She prayed to God for some sign. The Key had to be here!

Then she saw it, the figure atop the cliffs, watching them, creeping along. And whistling. There was something worrying about that, not the tune, but the act. Something she'd heard from the Bedouin, maybe? Still puzzling what it all meant, Penny reacted when Alice volunteered to climb up, quickly dashing in front to stop her. 'Wait!'


OOC: Something about a whistling monster comes to mind, but I can't remember what or where. (Maybe because I used one that did in another game, but I wouldn't expect it here.)
21:11, Today: Penny Dreadful rolled 28 using 1d20+10. Knowledge: Arcana.