Your path now veers nearly due West from the battlefield.  After a quarter mile your ears recognize the sound of hoof-beats closing on you.  A group of four riders approaches, "Asshuri" Marcian swears in a low but audible curse.  They wear scale hauberks and high canonical helmets.  These are elite mounted warriors, each city-state of Shem maintains such a group.

Tiberio recognizes the ease at which they seat their mounts.

You are still in open ground, roughly half a mile from the victorious army when the asshuri reach you.  They circle, stern eyes looking you over...though they seem drawn to Syssiah's bare form more than they should.

Each finally stops around you, as if to match points of the compass, while the man facing Marcian, Tiberio and Sarajen speaks,   The speaker points to Syssiah.  His tone appears stern, almost angry.

Marcian does not flinch in his reply,

The Khorajan in disguise speaks with passion but his body's only animation is the quick, short movements of his hands to add emphasis to his words,


 the asshuri asks.

, a hand waves toward Marduke, Niamh and Chang. 

The lead asshuri eases his mount closer to Syssiah.  It seems to be an effort to keep his eyes level with hers.  Frowning he takes her chin firmly, turning her face to better regard it.  Syssiah stares back into hungry eyes before the grip is released and those eyes fall once more in admiration.

Turning back to Marcian the leader of this band of asshuri calls,

Marcian shakes his head no.  The asshuri and he begin to argue.  After another minute the asshuri leader spits in disgust, motions his head to his men and the four turn to ride back to the main body.

When they are out of earshot Marcian shares with all, "Your plan worked, they did not question our motives to search for our Captain's killer though likely in no small part thanks to the distraction this one provided." he nods to Syssiah.

"Yet now was are further imperiled.  The leader of those asshuri was Ramsin of Akbitana and he desires Syssiah most highly.  When I told him we needed her, that we believed she was Neferet and displaying her so was what had lured Niam, Chang and Marduke  close so that we captured you, he would not relent.  He knew Neferet was Stygian and recognized Syssiah was not the princess.  This may be for the best as I could not have explained why I had not taken a captive noble to our commanders."

"Instead Ramsin tried to buy her from me.  He offered a small fortune by the end and was angered I would not relent.  I feared he might draw his blade, I tried to stall him, agreed to sell her once we marched back to Akbitana.  But I fear he will not wait.  He argued that using her so only put her life in danger and he would see her safely back to his household."

Your new situation explained, Marcian watches the retreating forms that will likely bring trouble all too soon.

At this distance, although anyone can make out that you are there they cannot easily see what you are doing or tell much about you.  You have ample options how to proceed.
 At least for now the army of Shem believes you are one of their own.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:24, Sun 19 Jan 2020.

Marduke says in his native tongue, knowing at least one would understand him,

Tiberio nods in gratitude that the conversation was handled well. Then did he look over to the Zamoran and wondered which was the stronger ploy, her assets or the words.

Then did the Aquilonian furrow his brow in thought as he considered what lay ahead.


"Marcian, what lays to the West? Why would a Prince be headed that way? Is there a stronghold? Mercenaries he could hire?"

"We will have to rely on their over-confidence and lack of understanding of our situation to correct things if he chooses to act before we are clear of here," Niamh replied, spitting the loose gag out of her mouth.

She nodded toward Marduke. "He's asking that we keep his pick close should trouble present itself. Having seen what he can do, I strongly encourage doing so," she said to the larger group. She glanced at the man who had her weapons, making sure he understood her needs, as well.

"Whatever we do, we need to continue away from here. If it is toward this prince of yours, so be it, but we must keep moving," she finished. Her hope was that this Shemite commander, Ramsin, be so enthralled with Syssiah that he might keep the larger force away to ensure limited challeges to his potential spoils.

Chang Jun continued with the group, he tensed ready for a fight when the other soldiers showed up. And watched impassively as they left. He was fairly sure they would eventually have to deal with the man, but hopefully they would be farther from the army when that came about.

The Khorajan soldier shakes his head in answer to Tiberio's question, "What hope had we, beset as we were, to reach any fortification in this desolate land?  If my prince had allies other than the treacherous King Ulam-Khala of Akbitana they are unknown to me.  As the horns to scatter sounded my unit and those left near me did so.  I assumed Prince Satabus did likewise.  From the well dressed corpses we pass it appears his delegation did follow."

"Then we must make a choice," Sarajen speaks up in Kothic as he looks back over his shoulder at the shrinking asshuri, "Ahorse we could not likely out ride the asshuri.  With 5 on foot we have little hope of reaching even the low hills there before Ramsin and his ilk surround us once more.  We must separate if there is to be any hope of locating Prince Satabus and finding sanctuary."

"Hear me," he straightens in his saddle, "Dressed as we are in their garb, I and these soldiers of Khoraja have already passed as members of the Shemite forces once, and we can do so again.  We three shall walk back to the army as its members and delay or deceive Ramsin as to your path should he ride after you.  Meanwhile you seven, for Marcian should accompany you to speak to his prince on our behalf, can double-up on the four horses and make all haste to follow the trail of Prince Satabus' caravan."

The old man climbs off his mare, offering the bridle to any of the pretend prisoners.  He looks to the group and smiles, "Do not fear, we will travel with either the Akbitana or Shumir forces until nightfall, then slip away in the dark.  It will be child's play to follow the path the army has left; we can meet at the old well were first we came upon the tracks of the army of Khoraja.  Else we will return to Khoraja itself and find you at the prince's palace."

Marcian's pair of countrymen look to him for guidance but he can only frown and nod his agreement.  They do not question, only add, "As this one says, child's play to slip past these Shemite pigs in the dark.  Have no fear."

Lest any can propose a better plan it appears another of your rebellion will walk a different path now.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:11, Wed 22 Jan 2020.

To Sarajen.

"Do you know how many days you must travel to Khoraja? How much water you need carry?
The scrutiny you will face if anything here had raised even a little suspicion?

If you have answers to these questions, then be at peace, we will see you again and hear the tale of your travels between as many cups as it takes to hear it all."

Tiberio will dismount to shake Sarajen's arm in the way warriors do.

Then will the Hyperborean move to examine the horses and make them ready for double riders, matching the strongest with the heaviest of their lot, pairs being taken into consideration.

Working swiftly, wanting as little time wasted, so the journey can resume.

Niamh grew a little frustrated with Syssiah and her...eagerness to play the slave. She slipped her hands out of the false bond and pulled that gag from the other woman's mouth. "Please, princess, this goes too far," she said, worried at the actions of the dark and pretty woman. She clearly was not used to seeing women behave this way.

When the Khorajan men came up with a plan, she seemed to approve, but recognized the potential sacrifice involved. Her opinion of the men rose substantially in her eyes. "Please be careful. We hope to see you soon and safe," she offered, her expression genuine and full of gratitude.

Niamh looked hard at the Zamoran woman. "Of that I have no doubt," she replied, having seen her throw herself on one of the soldiers earlier. She was no shrinking violet and clearly had more than enough heart to kill.

It was this other side of Syssiah had seen that Niamh was trying to reconcile. "When I put the gag back in place, it will be loose. It is imperative that you can speak if it becomes necessary," she said, giving the woman a tight-lipped smile, trying to meet her apparent needs with the needs of the group.

Seeing what passes between the two women, the course of action has to be made clear.
Kothic is halting, but the intent is clear.

"The time for ruse, over now. We ride as able fastest.  We need best speed, no bondage, two riders per horse, speed is our best ally, now that the three depart.

Horses drink, we drink, we start."

The words likely are more diplomatic and flow easier in a different tongue, Kothic made words more harsh.

Marduke breaks his fetters with ease. In Kothic he says  The mighty muscles bunch and release as he works out the kinks from prolonged 'bondage'.

Chang Jun was concerned about Sarajen's departure and intended mission, "Be careful old man. With the Gods favor we will see you again."

A small snort of a laugh escaped Chang Jun's lips "Marduke, at least your choices are consistent."

Marduke climbs into the saddle behind the winsome wench, and his hard-muscled chest presses her back. His ease with the horse says he is no stranger to the beasts. He snags his pick from Sarajen before the old man leaves and gives him a tribal sign of respect. The scholar was braver than most city-folk, and not overfed like so many of them. He sheathes his weapon across his back and wraps his strong arms around Syssiah as he holds the reins.

Niamh gathers her kit and spoils and gives Sarajen a quiet farewell. "Thank you, old man. Be safe and come back to us or find a home," she said, gripping his arm.

She could not help the small smile and nervous laugh escape her lips as she watched Marduke essentially claim the Zamoran princess. "A man who knows what he wants," she said, still unsure how to take Syssiah's behavior.

She looked to the Chang Jun and Tiberio, letting them decide with whom she would share.

Hearing the words of the Pict, Tiberio turns.

"With our four, Marcian and I can take lead as single riders, lighter and quicker, we are better to meet any needs."

Not expecting any counter offer, he vaults into his saddle and motions for Marcian to leave the Pict to the unarmed, unshielded man.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:21, Sun 26 Jan 2020.

As heal is put to shank the riders urge their mounts to top speed away from Sarajen and the Khorajan's in disguise.  The trio turn and begin the jog back to the massing army of the Shemitish city-states.  There is little time for further thought of their fate.

Bent low, knees held tight to your mounts, you follow the ruts thanks to Marduke's keen eyes and note the occasional group of corpses stiffened in death, and odd dropped item such as water barrels, a shattered chest of garmets of good quality, or other miscellaneous personal items.

For over two miles you maintain the trial at a furious pace, crossing stream beds, entering the low hills.  The armies of Ulam-Khala and Akbitana are out of view when a woman's angry shout echos loudly ahead.  You have no clear sight of the speaker nor what the words may have been thanks to the hammering of the hooves beneath you.  It is difficult to gauge how close she may be but you suspect no more than 200 yards.

Ambush? Warning?

Looking around at what could provide cover, both for attackers, for defense. Why here?

The shedding of weight for speed, understandable. Why backtrack? Water? Food? Some danger to riders ahead?

If the wagon had broken it would follow that it would be behind, those inside would continue towards the falling sun.

Were they to stop, that would provide easier targets for archers or spears.

Tiberio slowed his horse to a stop, signaled Marcian to do the same.

Once at a stop he slung his shield to his arm and waited for Marcian to call out.

"A woman!," she shouted just over the sound of the beating hooves. "Not far, perhaps your princess," she said, looking to Marcian.

She started taking in the terrain more closely as they slowed, all of it still so alien to her. She missed her forested mountains, the bleak desert land wore at her.

"Be careful revealing our presence. I do not think that shout was for us," she said as they slowed.

Marduke leaves the saddle and is instantly on alert. He identifies the source of the sound and creeps forward to investigate as he readies weapon and shield.

22:17, Today: Marduke the Red rolled 9 using 3d6 with rolls of 5,1,3.  Stealth 12-.

22:17, Today: Marduke the Red rolled 5 using 3d6 with rolls of 1,2,2.  Perception 13-.

As Niamh slowed the mount they shared Chang Jun slid off the side and cautiously moved forward along the opposite side of the trail from Marduke. Watching for any sign of an attempted ambush.

08:32, Today: Chang Jun rolled 13 using 3d6 with rolls of 5,6,2.  Peception 11-.