Norajia confidently tries to lever the fractured bits of carapace back into place wit the tip of her bone knife but she slips and nicks a vein below the glyptodont's armour, freeing it from its magical slumbers.

She says a bad word and then tries to correct her mistake with her spirit magic but for the third time in a few minutes she is unable to direct her energies properly. She goes pale and stomps off to cool down, visible shaken.

<OOC if anybody wants to make an insight (human) roll they can tell this would be a very bad time to approach her
23:08, Today: Norajia rolled 61 using 1d100.  Cast Spirit-magic (Healing4).
23:05, Today: Norajia rolled 3 using 1d3.  Damage (to glyptodont) from fumbled first aid.
23:00, Today: Norajia rolled 100 using 1d100.  First Aid (glyptodont).>

In reply to Norajia (msg # 223):

The hapless beast lets out a horrid croaking sound as it awakens; it rolls to its feet, taking off with surprising quickness due north.

Fortunately none of the party is along its trajectory!

The party is out of danger for the moment.

OOC: What does Mabwe know of humans...

Mabwe snorts and grumbles "With healing hands like that I'll take the Storm Bull's gentle touch!" and he starts of in the direction that they were heading.

"Leave them to the vultures and the hyenas, not enough brush around here to burn them properly and I don't want to drag diseased things about.

He does stop and dig his hands into the earth to rub off the ichor of the one he dispatched.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:36, Thu 27 Aug 2020.

Proceeding along the route pointed out by the bone of Varantas, you clear a small hill and come to an abrupt change of environment.

Stretching out before you is a vast area of desolation. The sparse sickly grasses of the prairie seem positively lush compared to the area before you, where not one plant is growing: The Dead Place.

Drained of its magic eons ago, when Eiritha drained the power of the land to aid her lover Storm Bull in his battle against the Devil.

The air is still and the sunlight distorted into a mirage off the sterile plain as you scan across the barren expanse. Your mounts come to an uneasy halt as you contemplate your next move. It is the mid afternoon.

<OOC: the red arrow is the direction indicated by the bone>

Norajia bites her lip as Vantaras's direction is indicated and her brow wrinkles, but when after a while no one has spoken, she says
"Well, it might still mean going through to Pairing Stone or the Dwarf Knoll..."

Mabwe snorts and replies "We could go around if you feel uncomfortable about the crossing it."

Norajia looks at Mabwe from under her eyebrows.
"I'd just rather it not be that first place it points towards." she says.
She shivers

Tuari looks at the bone, the blood drawn had been steadily increasing each time he had used it, this time though it had seemed to cross a threshold.  He drew upon the matrix he had to restore himself.

OOC: cast heal 1

"Norajiea, the pull on my blood grows stronger as Varantas needs more each time, I can bear it but incase I fall you should know."  he looks out at the Dead place "I don't like it but I think we need to go directly across the Dead Place."

Norajia mosies over to look at Tuari's healed cut and Varantas's bone.
"If the toll of using the bone keeps increasing then ultimately it will become unsurvivable. Perhaps we should use it less often, or see if having another person sacrifice to it brings the severity of the effect back down. I don't know how to advise you but this worries me. It may mean that Varantas is more powerfully connected to the middle world for the moment which could be good for us. That is more in Mabwe's line of work.

I agree it seems the only sensible course is to follow the track it shows. We could check again as we pass that place ahead that I no longer care to name now that we have come this close to it. I wonder though if we might be following something that is moving. It seems we have started moving a bit more East of North  than when we set out - or maybe it is just me"

Lemak gives a whoop of strength, having smashed the tick aside.  He then cleans his dagger-axe where he can against the hard land.



He's about to suggest burning the remains of the ticks, but looking about, has to agree with the morokanth that there's not much fuel to do so.





"We push on, as the bone to shows," says Lemak.  "We've no time to lose.  The gods have called on this mission.  And it sounds like this bone it taking its toll on you."



"An interesting point.  If our goal is moving, then we can't be too sparing with use of the bone in case we keep moving in the wrong direction."  He looks at Tuari.  "Do you think Varantas would accept it if the pass the bone around, to speak you all the burden?"

Tuari pauses for a moment, scratching at the stubble on his chin My thanks Lemak but for now she is my burden to bear, if it becomes to great then we shall see what happens.  Besides I have much to give."  he smiles as he pats himself on the chest.

Lemak nods.  "Fair enough."  It's rare for him to come across a human taller than himself, and Tuari not only is taller (particularly when sitting on his bison), but brawnier as well.

<OOC: OK, it sounds like you are following the bone into the Dead Place...?
I will post about that in the next day or so>

Lemak (showing great skill), Thangar and Tuari navigate their uncertain mounts across the interface.

Norajia has trouble with her sable, the beast seems unhappy at the instruction to go into the unforgiving waste, but its devotion to its master enables it to enter.

Mabwe of course enters on his own feet.

As soon as you enter the Dead Place, you feel the air is surprisingly cold, in spite of the Fire Season sun.

There's something that feels wrong about this place that you can't put your finger on, you feel your senses are somehow dulled.

Vorrik's zebra is unwilling to enter.

"Crap!" Noragia says as she tries to urge Modesty across the interface. "Crap,crap,crap,crap,crap,crap,crap,crap,crap..." she continues, looking around, and dismounting to get her cloak out of her baggage.

Mabwe snorts, his breath coming like a cloud from his nostrils in this coldness, and he backtracks to try to help the outsider with his mount, but is unable to coax it in either.

Finally he says "We can butcher it. Meat will last in the coldness of the Deadplace."

<OOC: Since Vorrik's player hasn't logged on in a couple weeks, I'll give them until tomorrow to make a response before filling in...>

" I forgot all about it!]

The rescued sable that has been riding along side of Norajia seems to prefer entering the Dead Place with the party and Modesty to being left abandoned in the chaparral again.

Lemak makes a sign of warding against evil, and mutters a prayer for the strength of the Bull in this Place.



"Hmm," says Lemak, casting an appraising eye at Vorrik and the zebra, then at the spare sable.  "Let's see if the sable will bear Vorrik, and if the zebra - without an outlander on it - will enter if it's tethered to one of our other beasts.  If not, then we can butcher it."
This message was last edited by the player at 09:09, Sat 05 Sept 2020.

Vorrik again attempts to spur the zebra into the badlands, but there is insufficient trust between mount and rider. He slowly climbs off the zebra and passes the reins to Mabwe.
He collects his bedroll and some personal effects from the beast.
At Lemak's suggestion he looks a bit longingly at the extra sable, but you think he'll need some assistance with the beast.
"Yes, well, uh you lot have the, uh, what is it called? 'Serene stab'?"

Lemak looks back at Vorrik, remaining where he is seated on Lobber.  He's looking forward to an amusing scene...

Noragia looks downcast at the suggestion of butchering the zebra and fiddles with her necklace but doesn't raise any philosophical objections.
Sighing she approaches the new sable and bows from the neck.
"Sable of Roneer the Hue's clan. I ask you to consider bearing this outlander whom the gods have selected to help us do a service for the Plains of Eiritha and the Covenant of Waha. I shall try to explain to him how moondeer are ridden. Please be patient for the mother's sake"
She adjusts the baggage and saddle and leads the sable over to the Sun-domer.
"O Sable, this is Vorrick Brightlem who requires passage through the Dead Place in the service of the gods of Prax. O Vorrick, this daughter of Eiritha whom I suggest you call Lucky, requires protection from Chaos and guidance to good pasture, in accordance with tradition. Rider assume your mount, mount accept your rider. You'll find the set-back saddle unusual I expect, but do not lean toward her horns. "
Noragia releases Lucky's reins and steps back to see what happens

"Mabwe, we should try to tie the zebra to Ondari's saddle and then see if it will come along. It does seem a waste to kill it here if we can use it later."

Mabwe follows Lemak's gaze, wondering what he is so amused about. "We should take care in there. There are Ghost Places throughout Prax and The Wastes and I dare say sufficient suffering occurred there to create one or more."

As Norajia leads the sable over to Vorrik, it seems to respond well to him.
He gingerly climbs into its odd, narrow saddle and it appears that it will let him ride it into the inhospitable wastes.
It still prefers to stay close to Modesty, so if figuring out a marching order becomes necessary Norajia and Vorrik will need to be together.
Vorrik remarks "Well, I guess we save the "Merciful Murder" of that striped devil for another day. Pity."
The zebra will allow itself to be led by Tuari, but seems to want to be as far from Vorrik as possible.
Perhaps Norajia's comforting words and/or the memory of how you all handled the scorpionmen and ticks on the plains makes the hapless beast hedge its bets to come along.
The party at last united heads into the wastes.

<OOC: please let me know if you take any additional precautions or do anything notable as you follow the last vector of the Bone>
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:22, Mon 07 Sept 2020.

Lemak purses his lips in disappointment.  No chance to chuckle before entering the Dead Place.  He reins in Lobber to head into the desolation after Tuari.



"Aye," Lemak replies.  "I've never entered the Dead Place before, but I've heard of it in my clan.  May the Great Desert Wind guide us."  He checks bindings for his lance and dagger-axe.  Secure against his high llama's side, but ready to pull out at any sign of danger.