Your journeys have brought you in sight of the Block, that dreadful and magnificent symbol of the triumph over the devil and at the same time a grim reminder of the ever present need for vigilance against the dangers of chaos, always seeking new paths to invade and distort the world.
To the south you see the Block, towering over the plains of Prax. Traveling solemnly toward it, your mount seeming to share your anticipation, you see a lonely tree. At its base you can just make out a small wigwam.
 
You also see a number of other mounted, and in one case, on all fours, figures.

Mabwe stops and stares in awe and more than a little trepidation at The Block as he pictures in his mind's eye the marsh that he has been taught surrounds it, a marsh filled with foul beasts of Chaos.

He is thankful for Forntiss' teachings, for without her teachings the visions would have been harder to bear. He does though feel fortified in his soul, feels stronger, as though he has experienced more in one vision than she taught in a year.

Mabwe snorts loudly sending his snout out straight with the pressure of air and shakes away the feelings, turning his gaze instead to the tree and the tent beneath it. He starts forward again his gaze remaining mostly on the tent, but wandering occasionally to the other arrivals.

As they come into earshot he rises to his hind legs and walks upright, his massive size now evident. He raises an open paw to the strangers "It is strange find lone wanderers from the great tribes converge on one place at the same time."

Norajia fidgets with her necklace as she adujusts Her sable's pace to match the nearby Morocanth's stride. It blows through it's lips shortly after the Morocanth's snort.

Norajia waves to him with a small head-bob, "Strange company perhaps, but not so strange as the dreams that lead me hither. My goddess desires peace with all and any, and I urge all and any to follow her lead. If it seems the gods wish to speak, our first task is to listen. Let us make our introductions when we find out if those who raised the wigwam can tell us more"

Tauri stood in his saddle and looked across at the othrrs who approached the wigwam.  He raised his right hand to shade his eyes from Yelms glare.  "It seems Odina we are not the only ones to be called." he spoke to the shaggy black bison he rode.  He gave the big beast a nudge forward and slowly approached his shield was slung and his lance in his left hand as a sign of peaceful intentions.  As he got closer he raised his hand in greetings.

"Fair winds, it seems unlikely the five tribes are called together on a whim.  It seems we have been chosen for some task.

The Block.  Site of great victory.

Lemak spurs his silver-grey high llama forward.  Seeing the large bison and rider, he sits straighter, chest out, the impression of his size helped by the heavy scale armour over his torso and plate mail protection on his limbs.  Both his lance and two handed dagger-axe are strapped to the sides of his animal, but within easy reach if necessary.

The mount seems to notice too, either taking its master's lead, or from the presence of other nomad beasts.  Its neck straightens and its ears lay back.  Lemak trusts in his high llama to gain a step on the other travelers toward the wigwam.



To the morokanth he throws his voice, "This is the land of the Great Bull.  Not so strange to see us make our way here."  For emphasis, he nods towards the Block, with its camp of cultists at the base.  "Strange to see a sole healer travelling these lands though."



Turning to the saber rider, he says "You are either very lucky or very foolish.  Or both.  And you talk of introductions, but make none yourself."

Norajia's sable maintains its pace as she looks the converging aepycamelus and rider up and down. Her mouth opens and closes but she makes no reply, perhaps sighing. Her posture relaxes noticeably though, and she gestures towards the tree and wigwam.

Mabwe nods and returns the greeting of the Bison rider, but snorts loudly at the words of the High Llama brave. He responds slowly "That the Bull plunged his heart into the Devil here does not change the fact that this is Waha's land."

"And I said it is strange to see lone travellers of the five great tribes here, not that it is strange to see one lone follower of the Bull here."

"If you do not know how many that is hold up one of your hands, it is one for each of the digits you see."

He snorts again But maybe I have it wrong. It is unusual to see four lone members of different tribes heading for the tent here and a follower of The Bull heading off for the camp at the Block."

Norajia rests her forehead on the knuckles of both hands for a moment, reigning her sable in gently to interpose it between the courses of the morocanth and high-llama.

Thangar rides up to the group. To themself they say "I didn't realize there would be others"
Then, raising their voice to be heard, "What brings you all to this spot?"

Lemak bristles at the morokanth's words, but can't think of a good response.  Using words anyway.  Silently, he's glad the sable rider has come between them.  He restricts himself to just, "All honour Waha, the son of the Storm Bull."  He spurs his high llama ahead again.



At the sound of a new voice, Lemak reigns in his mount and looks back.  At least this gives him an opportunity to regain the moral high ground.  To think, it is a Storm Bull warrior who remembers his manners!  "I am Lemak of the Silver Fleece clan.  I am here at the call of the Great Desert Wind himself!"

Norajjia nods to the latest arrival and listens to Lemak's introduction.

"Greetings Lemak, I am Norajia of the Unwilling Flatterers clan. The White Goddess sends me here. It is good to know that we approach the site of the Bull's triumph in company with one of his own"

"I am Tuari of the Snow bison clan, mighty Orlanth Khan of the Storm called out to me in my dreams.  I saw this place and that wigwam, I it will hope contain the answers we all seek to why we are called.  Tuari said introducing himself to the group.

"I am Mabwe of the Dark Water clan. I was given a vision by the Great Spirit Waha, the same visions that you were all given by the Great Spirits that you worship."

"My shaman told me to seek the shaman here, Shollak."

<OOC: feel free to continue introductions etc.>

Approaching the tree, you see a small leather wigwam next to it and under the shade of its branches.

A campfire surrounded by stones is heating a bronze pot, and several kabobs with skewered local game (you think probably hare and prairie dog) protrude from the fire. 

Standing outside the tent you see a young man and a young woman. Both appear to be Praxians. Neither appears to be a slave but both have the permanent marks of a slave collar on their necks.  
The young woman and man address you, their heads tilted slightly to the side and speaking in stilted blank tones, the woman speaking first, and alternating their phrases. It's a little unsettling:

"Greetings travelers-"
"and welcome to the-"
"wigwam of master Shollak-"
 "Sees Far. He has-"
"been expecting you-"
"for some time although he-"
"knew not the day or the-"
"season. He bids you-"
"to make yourselves comfortable in his-"
"humble campsite and take your-"
"rest from the trials of-"
"the plains. If you-"
"require anything the-"
"master offers it to you. He-"
"only asks that you remain and do-"
"not disturb him until he-"
"emerges from his tent."

They both let out a gasp and slump their shoulders when they finish.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:38, Tue 12 May 2020.

Lemak frowns slightly but tries not to let it show.  I wonder why I saw no wigwam in my dreams...

He turns to the impala rider in expectation.



Strange indeed, but shamans are always strange.  Possessed?

Lemak dismounts and looks to see if there's any shade under the tree for his high llama.  Retrieving his dagger axe, he holds it in a non-threatening position, head down, and walks up to the campfire, taking one of the skewers he thinks is of hare.

Tuari rode Odina over to the tree and settled the big black bison down. He gathered his things and moved to take a seat at the fire.  He wears a scale hauberk a trophy from a raid into thr west, a broadsword across his back and a heavy mace on his right hip.  He stood nearly seven feet tall, broad shoulders and thickly hewed arms.  He smiled warmly at everyone but the healer and deliberately kept a distance from her.

He took on of the skewered meat sticks and began to chew enthusiastically.

Noriajia unloads her sable and sets it to graze. Her tack is peculiar, mostly platted and woven hair and wool. She strolls over to examine the two Praxian welcomers for a minute, observing them closely and putting her ear to their chests.

She gets some cheese out of her bags and joins those at the fire.  She wiggles an eyebrow at Tuari's reserve and stays the other side of the fire from him. "Have you seen rain?' she asks between mouthfuls, looking from one rider to another.

Mabwe approaches the two to have a closer look, intrigued by them and their shared speech muttering to himself as he does so <small>"Strange, as though they share one spirit the way they shared the speaking."

Then he asks them "Are there any plant to eat, tubers, succulent roots, melons, seeds, anything like that?" and he watches their reaction closely.

Lemak and Tuari, while the meat is not fancy it is much more tender than the smoked jerky in your saddlebags and hits the spot after your long travels.

Noticing Norajia and Mabwe, the young man apologetically scurries about, gathering up some cooked taproots and other vegetables from the chaparral and serves them to you in a wooden bowl, which he holds out to you tentatively.

Norajia thanks the young man and raises her bowl to Mabwe in salutation "May it benefit you" she says and smiles. After the young man has moved away she says "These two appear to me used to being controlled. It seems a lot of trouble to go to. "

As the wait continues, she gets a lyre from her bags and practises a song

"By serpent, by serpent, by far bank adjacent"
"Swabs Varaneena her long legs albescent"
"Swathe Varaneena those long legs albescent"
"Long legs albescent, blue eyes liquescent"
"Long legs albescent, blue eyes liquescent"
"T’wards Varaneena swim grey geese conversant"


"T’wards Varaneena swim grey geese conversant "
"Geese be dispersant, your cursing quiescent"
"Geese be dispersant, your cursing quiescent"
"Our Khan’s convalescent, he’ll wake incandescent"
"Khan’s convalescent and wakes incandescent"
"Khan viridescent, Khanina rubescent."


"Why Varaneena at night were you absent?"
"With whom were you absent? of whom staying silent?"
"Where Varaneena art wandering transient?"
"I walked down the serpent in talk found consentient"
"I walked down the serpent, that stalks my consentient"
"Self-same consentient, long obsolescent"


"By serpent, by serpent, by far bank adjacent"
"Swabs Varaneena her long legs albescent"

Like most sable riders Norajia has dark hair and eyes, and although the song is in Praxian and Varaneeena is a Praxian name, blue eyes would be unusual among the major tribes. Her vocal range goes higher than might be expected of somebody measuring six foot two inches and approaching two hundred pounds.

"No, no rain recently where my clan has been.  Unless you mean the rain of sand in Fire Season," says Lemak with a crooked smile.

He reaches for another meat skewer.  More for me, since it appears at least two of the group are vegetarian.  Not that he was waiting for others before taking a second one.

He looks back at Norajia and says "I meant what I said back there - when we were approaching this place.  You're lucky.  There's been a scorpion man lurking in this area, killing travelers."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:10, Fri 15 May 2020.

Mabwe listens to the song, half interested, but his concentration obviously more so on the couple and the surrounding camp. When she finishes he says "We use the little we have, it is how Waha taught us to survive. And when you are blind there is only so much that the spirits can see for you, you must use the eyes of the living in some ways for some things."

As he chews on one of the offered taproots he glances about the camp again, though this time with a more analysing eye.

Thangar dismounts their impala and rolls up their sleeves, looking hungrily at the skewered meat before them. They choose a spot on the ground (facing toward the entrance to the wigwam and the pair who appear to be controlled) and sit cross-legged.
They examine the skewers and choose one.

One thing you notice as you settle in around the campfire is that, going out about a couple hundred meters in all directions from the tree, the foliage is oddly highly diverse, and your mounts are capable of finding their preferred grasses for grazing—not something you’ve observed elsewhere.

The young woman says, apologetically, “Please take your rest, travelers, I think we will not see the master until the morrow.”

As Yelm is nearing the Gates of Dusk, and the shadows of the western mountains grow ever larger, you see one more figure approaching from the east. As it comes closer, you see it is a well armed man awkwardly riding a zebra.

Norajia nods as if she'd expected as much and returns a full smile


Norajia chuckles, "I met a man who would have died of snakebite. Lucky for two of us it wasn't the other way around. It sounds like you dealt with the scum then, alone too?" She looks at Lemak with renewed interest perhaps checking for fresh scars and bruises. She picks up his discarded skewer and pokes amongst the ashes of the fire with it determinedly. "I won't say I wasn't... concerned, one knot from the Marsh, alone; but three nights the same dream... I left before dawn." She shrugs, still playing with the ashes.

"I wish I had," says Lemak with a tinge of regret, "but I only heard of the Chaos scum from a party of my brothers.  You had all best be careful.  And let me know if you see any track or sign of it."  He watches the approaching zebra rider.

Following Lemak's gaze Norajia sticks the sewer in the ground and straightens up, hands on hips, observing the new arrival. After a few moments she cups one hand to her mouth and hails them in a surprisingly loud yell.

"AHOY THE SURVIVORS! You don't see a rhino out there do you?"

Beside the hearth she has scratched the pale residue into the shape of an undeniably male aepycamelus. A sort of crude sand-painting (in all senses).

Mabwe stares at the approaching rider and then comments thoughtfully "Either he's Oho-Wahano or he's hurt judging by the way he rides."

The zebra moves jerkily and the man seems to have difficulty controlling it. He doesn't seem to hear your calls to him.
As he comes closer, into your encampment, his mount doesn't slow down as much as he seems to want it to.
Finally at rest, a little beyond the tree, he attempts to smoothly dismount but the animal takes a few steps while he is trying to free himself from the saddle.
"You did that on purpose! When I find that merchant who sold you to me, you worthless..."
He aims a kick at the beast's rump, but it steps out of the way.
The solider and his mount stand glaring at each other.
You notice that he is well armed in well kept gear, a bronze muscle cuirass, full helm with Fire/Sky and Truth runes and an impressive yellow plume, as well as bronze greaves and vambraces. He carries a large shield, also bearing the same runes, and a spear is slung over his shoulder.
He's not small, but is smaller than the rest of your group of huge Praxians.

Tuari grunts rising to stand next to Lemak "Dirt farmer" he sneered under his breath.  "What do you want here Sun domer, are you lost?"

Mabwe laughs aloud at the antics of the outsider and his zebra, a sound very similar to the braying of a donkey, but with an element of snorting to it.

After a moment or two this subsides and he awaits the man's response to Tuari.

Norajia frowns and bites her lip but remains silent.

Trying to regather his composure, and seeming to notice you for the first time, he adjusts his breastplate.
“Eh? Oh, ha ha! No not lost my friend.
Ahem.
Vorrik Brighthelm at your service.”
He makes an exaggerated bow.
Looking you all over, he continues, “I have been sent with a message from the Godtime to this very place. Perhaps we shall have an adventure together eh?”

Norajia's brow smoothes as her eyes widen. She's now biting both lips.

Mabwe rises to his hind legs showing his full height for the first time as he addresses the outsider "I don't think you rode that beast from Godtime to here. Is the message for us or for the shaman here?"

"And what do you mean from Godtime? What Great Spirit sent you?"

Vorrik takes an involuntary step backwards when confronted by the hulking Morokanth.
Looking from face to face for some sign of support (and finding little) he hesitates and then says, 
"Oh, I believe I see your confusion. That striped devil over there-"
He shoots a look of pure hatred at the zebra, which is peacefully chewing at the prairie grass.
"That striped devil is not my normal mount, no, I only recently obtained it because I was assured that riding it would be the same as riding a uh... a umm... I was assured that it would be a familiar animal for me to ride, and of course would help me fit in well here.
Clearly that brute still needs to learn some respect, eh?
Now the message I received-- Why it was for my humble self.
And as for what spirit sent me?" 
(he seems to be regaining some confidence)
"Why only the greatest god of all!

'Very Son of the very sun,
Thy splendor fills the heavens
When the blessed sun is set, 
You remain, thou Unfailing Light
Yay, Still you are there 
Shining ever on.
You push back the darkness
Laughing at it, as at all your foes,
the shadows flee in despair
At the glory of your might'

There are a few more verses as well, if you're interested."

With a sigh Norajia moves forward stopping midway between the sundomer and the Wahanos with her back to the wigwam..

"Then it seems Vorrik Brighthelm has the same reason for being here as the rest of us" She looks af the Praxians and then back to Vorrik.
"I am Norajia, sent by the White Lady. Our host is indisposed until tomorrow but has left kebabs by the fire. Why don't I settle your zebra in while you eat something before they are all gone". She ends with the practised tone of a mother insisting her brood mind their hearth manners in front of guests.

"There are roots and greens if meat is taboo for you" she add as an afterthought

Unless Vorrik objects to her offer, she approaches the zebra and brings it over to unload it nearer the fire before staking it to graze near her sable

"NO!"  Lemak's interjection is immediate.



He takes this as a prompt to take another skewer.  Clearly this joke of a wetlander is not supposed to be here.  Or sharing the food prepared for them.  He's a bit more wary now, though.  He keeps his weapon pointing down, but his arm and grip loose, should this foreigner try anything.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:37, Sun 17 May 2020.

Thangar sighs, frustrated that this "Vorrik" seems to be joining the host, but trying to be hospitable nonetheless, tosses a skewer in his general direction.

They walk over to Norajia and ask "How can you welcome this horse-rider?"

"Most meat is good, thank you!"

He makes no objection to you caring for his zebra, which nuzzles you gratefully.



"Er... perhaps later then!" If he notices Lemak's wariness, he doesn't show it.


Vorrik catches the skewer, smiles gratefully, and plops down a little distance from the fire, not too close to Mabwe, or Lemak, or Tuari.


<OOC: It's night time, please let me know if you want to set a guard. The young man and woman do not seem to be worried about danger and lie down in front of the entrance of the wigwam. I'll plan to post the initial meeting with the Shaman in about 24 hours or so>

"NO!"  Lemak's interjection is again immediate.

Norajia purses her lips in displeasure



Her attention seems to be more on assessing the condition of the zebra as she begins to answer.

"Is it I who appears in his dreams?" She breaks off to look to look down her nose at Thangar, "You can argue with the Great Spirits if you like Impala, I shall wait for the shaman to tell me what he thinks they intend."

She goes back to soothing and unloading the Zebra, not being an Eiritha initiate she is a little slow at it, but it is obvious that she loves herd beasts as much as the next woman. _{"At least the little outlander remembers to give us his name"} She grumbles in an undertone, that may not carry to those at the fire

Tuari looked across at the Impala rider as he settled back down near the fire "Impala, you have not given your name are you an outlaw?"

Mabwe smiles, a facial expression that is lost on any but Morokanth, and back on all fours he wanders closer to the outside and sits back on his haunches "So you are a follower of the weakened Sky Light."

"Interesting poem though wrong of course, Darkness was always there and will always be there, the first and the last. When Light comes then Darkness may pull back, but only grows the sharper where it gathers."

He snorts, the gust of air from his snout strong and 'accidentally' in the direction of the man's skewered meat "Prefer gern myself. You might have heard it called herdman, though some say human." and his smile returns.

"So you had a vision of this place? What did your Great Spirit show you, anything else?"

Mabwe is unconcerned about keeping watch, content to rely upon the spirits of this shaman to at the least alert them, and perhaps keep anything away anyway.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:50, Sun 17 May 2020.

If Lemak notices Norijia's displeasure, he doesn't show it.  He continues eating.

He does however give a ghost of a smile at the morokanth's comments to the outsider.



And he listens intently to Vorrik's answer to these questions.

[OOC: Lemak doesn't try to organise a rotation of guards.  But he'll try to stay up longer than normal and get up earlier than normal.  Mainly cos (i) he doesn't trust the wetlander, and he'll definitely sleep only after Vorrik, and (ii) he wants to guard a bit against the scorpion man turning up, and if possible gain glory in defeating Chaos.]
This message was last edited by the player at 02:09, Mon 18 May 2020.

Vorrik looks from Mabwe to Lemak and back, but makes no further answer.



<OOC: Anything but a fumble on a CON vs 5 roll and you can manage your sleep as you like>

Lemak's ghost of a smile flattens to a flat line while he munches away, watching the newcomer, and not bothering to hide this.  I'm definitely not sleeping til I know this one is asleep.



[OOC: 11:47, Today: Lemak rolled 6 using 1d100.  CON x 5 check.
Special success!  :P  ]
This message was last edited by the player at 03:49, Mon 18 May 2020.

Having put up her tent and checked on the sable and zebra, Noragia returns to the camp fire and looks from one to another of the vision questers who seem to be in the midst of a Praxian standoff. She rolls her eyes and retires to her bed.

<OOC with the Scorpion man Lemak spoke of in mind, she may sleep fitfully. and if she does wake in the night she will get-up and stand outside to listen for a few minutes before trying to go back to sleep>

Tuari finished his meal and rose to see to Ondari before bringing the big bison back closer to the fire he settled the big beast down the quietly sat putting his back against the beasts side and settling in for the night.

<OOC: feel free to continue introductions etc. and that will just be backdated>


As Yelm emerges from the Gates of Dawn, Lemak, having experienced an excellent sleep, awakens first and well rested.

You see some stirring around the entrance of the teepee. The two attendants bring some refreshment to a small figure that has crawled from its entrance. The fire is still going strong and a series of new skewers are roasting over it, smelling deliciously of local fowl. There are also a variety of skewered vegetables, some of which are not indigenous to Prax.

Seated in front of the tent you see an old man, he looks older than any human you have ever seen. He appears to be a member of the impala tribe, although his head is not shaved, nor does it look like his hair or beard has been cut in many years. The two attendants kneel on either side of him, braiding his hair and beard which he seems to tolerate as he drinks thirstily from a clay jug.

Lemak sees to his high llama, brushing its coat down and pulling out any debris caught by the winds.

While he eyes the skewers and feels his stomach's call, he waits while the shaman takes his drink.  Lemak stands a respectful distance from the man and gives a bow of acknowledgment before sitting in front of him and waiting for Shollak to finish before speaking.

"Wise One, I am Lemak of the Silver Fleece Clan.  I am here at the bidding of the Storm Bull.  The Great Desert Wind commanded me to ride to this tree, but I am told that you have been waiting for me," he motions around, "and these others too."

Norajia scans the horizon for any late arrivals and then checks on the sable and brings it over to to introduce it to the tethered zebra. She re-examines the zebra in the morning light. Unfastening it, she swings up and tests it out bareback at a walk and a trot, to see if it has any ailments or peculiarities. She gives both mounts a cursory brush down and returns to the campfire.


When she sees Lemak go and sit by the shaman she joins him, also bowing before sitting on Lemak's left hand side.

She bows again ,seated, when he mentions 'others' but stays quiet

"Draw closer, draw closer, yes, yes" he says, indicating the ground in front of him.
As you draw near, his head turns toward you.
As the sun catches his face you notice that he has no eyes.

He swats the grooming hands of his attendants away "Karith, Salla, leave me alone and bring some breakfast to our guests."
The two young attendants scurry to once again offer you the wooden kebabs.
<OOC: I assume everybody draws near, let me know if not>
"Please sit. Sit.
So this is interesting, what a strange group you are. All of you so BIG.
I am Shollak, called Sees Far. You are known to Shollak, for he has had vision of your coming. Shollak does not like to keep a guest waiting, but he had a bit of a struggle. Shollak would have given this to you when you arrived, but this one, she is stubborn. Yes, you are. YES YOU ARE.”
 Shollak rummages around the blankets he is sitting on and produces a faded yellow object, about 18 inches/46 cm in length. It appears to be a humanoid humerus that has been sharpened on one end. It has been carved extensively with runes and other symbols (perhaps partial runes or strange, combined runes) that are less familiar to you. In addition precious metals and semi precious stones have been hammered into it in seemingly haphazard fashion, and a few bands of what you suspect is iron reinforcing the bone around some of its deeper cracks.

<OOC: You'll probably need to right click on the link, the pictures aren't always embedding for me>



This message was last edited by the player at 00:02, Wed 20 May 2020.

Seeing the depressions where eyes should be in the shaman's head, Lemak can't help but glance at the two helpers.



He takes the kebab gratefully and starts to eat, looking back again at Shollak.



Lemak regards the bone with a mixture of interest but also wariness.  The temptation to reach out and take the bone and examine it is strong, but concern about 'a struggle' and how 'she is stubborn' win out and he limits himself to just gazing upon the item.

Between mouthfuls of kebab, he asks "Wise One, why are we here?"  Particularly the foreigner...  "What is this baton?  And who is 'she'?"

[OOC: Gargle, FYI the second link image embeds for me, but not the first link]
This message was last edited by the player at 03:39, Wed 20 May 2020.

Norajia leans forward as she takes in Master Shollak's physiognomy

Norajia silently gestures that she would prefer the root soup again



Norajia also examines the artefact only from a distance, a worried look crosses he face as she does so. She looks around to see where the other visitors are sitting and whether they have any strong reactions to the shaman and his baton.


<OOC: Like Lemak I see the second img tag in post but not the first (both are the same image)> - I'm using Safari on a mac and iPad at the moment

Tuari sat on the otherside of Lemak, a blind shaman talking to the spirits whilst unusual didnt seem all that strange to him.  Shamans had a tendancy towards being odd.

He sat silently listening then when no one made to take the strange bone on impulse he stretched an arm out hesitated just above ut then picked it up.

Chewing on a rather tasty root, one of the foreign ones he took to try out Mabwe asks "Gern or human?" But then adds "Was She, the spirit, tied to the thing or just some other task that kept you from us Master Shollak?"

And almost as an afterthought "And do you know what we re meant to do with it?"

The bone feels natural in your hand, it is lightweight and feels lifeless to you.

Shollak laughs, “Oh ho ho, interesting! A bison rider, well that makes sense, and she knows her business I suppose. I think she likes you”
She can not help you though if you do not feed her. Can not or will not. We can feed her for now, though. Salla, feed her, you nincompoop!”

Salla, the young female attendant, dutifully produces a flint knife which she draws across her palm. A pale line appears on her hand which rapidly fills with blood. She allows a few drops to fall onto the bone-
-which suddenly springs to life, twisting in Tuari’s grip and forcefully pointing to the north.

“Oh,” says Shollak. "Not the swamp. Not the river. Not the big dirty city. Somewhere else."

“Ah so many questions for a tired old man.
I only know what I know, and perhaps not even that."

"This has been in my keeping since I was a young boy. But it is much, much older. Now it must leave me.”
He sighs. "It belonged, or belongs, or will belong, to a great warrior. Not a gern, ha ha. She rode a llama. She is stubborn but she will guide you to where you need to go.

"She does get hungry though, hee hee, you look like you have a lot of blood though, Tuari."

A strong breeze blows from the west, whipping the embers of the fire.

“I have seen a vision. Our enemies extending their power, a coming Great Abomination. I do not know that it can be stopped.
Chaos would grow, replacing life with emptiness and destruction. Already the Red Soldiers are here, yes? But what they plan will make them unstoppable...
Maybe you can help stop it. Maybe you can not. She thinks you can.
She promises she can lead you where you must go.
With this. With this, see?” he indicates the general directions of the bone with a shaking finger.

Tuari looked at the bone in his hand, he moved his hand to see if it pointed consistently in the one direction.  "Orlanth gave me a vision, it sounds like the spirits have shared their fears with you." he offers his other hand to Salla, "Cut it I will feed her.  I would know who she is." once the deed is done he places his own bloody hand upon the bone.

Norajia's eyebrows jump as the bone spirit bucks in Tuari's hands. She turns her head to look in the direction it indicates.

"Just yesterday I warned someone never to go to Winter Ruins." she says "Is that where she sends us? I suppose we won't know until we get closer. She observes the others' reactions, particularly the Sundomer's.

Should we know her name Master Shollak?" she looks back towards the Shaman.

Lemak looks on with fascination at the bone in Tuari's hand.  A high llama rider?  Part of him wishes he had taken up the fetish himself.  Part of him is uncertain of its bloodthirst.

While he listens to see if Tuari can discover the name of this high llama rider, and if she tells Tuari more, Lemak looks at the shaman and those around him, saying "In the dream that the Great Bull showed me, it was Earth Season, and the Red Moon attacked, and great flaming boulders fell upon the Earth with great destruction."

Narajia's attenton snaps back to Lemak

"I think I have had this dream" she says "It was earth season, I had returned to my family's Ger, but they all looked some years older than they should. There were loud whistling noises, then crashes like a landslide, then our tent was filled with fire - and then I saw this tree by the block and Chalana Arroy was telling me to go."

"In my vision, I was riding my trusty impala off to hunt creatures of chaos when Waha commanded I simply "Go." My name is Thangar, by the way.

"The skies turned red from the North West in my dream. There was a crackling of energy in the air and my blood ran cold, but my shaman acted as though nothing was wrong."

"Then the skies were filled with flaming rocks that fell to the earth and brought ruin, flames taking the grass and filling the plains with darkness."

"Then the eyes of Waha over this tent beneath the tree and The Block in the background and my head was filled with his one word, GO!"

Interesting.  This must be important indeed if a number of gods have sent their own followers with similar visions.  Lemak's heart swells with pride at being chosen.

He turns to look at Vorrik...

No matter how you hold the bone, the sharp tip always points in the same direction. If you try to shift it, it increases in strength. It is as if it is tethered to a long taut rope that originates some ways to the north.
You notice that the tug of the bone is greatly lessening after a few moments.



The girl looks back to Shollak, who makes no sign.
Turning to Tuari, she then hesitantly takes your huge left hand and winces as she draws the knife across it.

As you put your wound against the bone you notice that the blood is rapidly absorbed.
The intensity of the pull on the bone is again great as it leaps in your grip and points to the north. Again it fades after a few moments and returns to lifeless bone.



Vorrik is standing a bit outside of the circle of Praxians, his head tilted back and murmuring a psalm about Yelmalio.



Shollak speaks again, his voice raspy and he appears exhausted, his words harder to make out and slurred as he goes on:
“Follow her and she will lead you. How far I do not know. She will not avoid danger, that is not like her, for now as in life she has no fear.
Whatever she shows you, bring back here, to this tree, and give it to the one you see. Not to me though. Not to…”

He falls to the side and is silent.

Karrith, the male attendant, holds his hands up apologetically and wordlessly mouths the words “he is okay”.

Norajia crosses to kneel beside the old Shaman and takes one of his small hands between hers, leaning close to him for a moment. She nods to Karrith with a smile, and wiping her eyes, returns to the Praxians "As the young man says, he is alright. Give me a minute to strike my tent and I am ready" she says.

It takes more than a minute before she emerges from the tent in more trail-stained clothing than she was wearing the previous day and packs up her gear to load back on the sable.

Mabwe looks at the collapsed shaman and at Norajia "Really? I thought his time has come now that he has passed her on after so long waiting."

Narajia tilts he head with a thin lipped smile. "As you heard, someone else will be here whe...if, we return. You know more of shamans than I. He lives, however"

Lemak turns to look at the Sky worshipper.  Oh no...

He starts as the shaman collapses, but is reassured by Karrith's words.

Following Norijia's lead, he packs up his gear, straps it to his high llama and mounts the beast, ready to depart.  While he waits for Tuari, in particular, who wields the bone, he looks down at the two attendants and says, "Will you tell my brothers and sisters," he nods towards the Block, "of the vision that we have shared?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:19, Fri 22 May 2020.

Tuari sat a little longer looking at the bone in his hand before tucking it safely away.  As he rose to his feet he asked the two attendants "Do you know her name? If you do I would like to know.

The two attendants gently drag Shollak back into the wigwam.
You notice they now interact with you much more naturally and without the strange interdependence.



Salla says earnestly, “The brave Uroxi patrol here often, for even this far from the Block one may sometimes chance upon a piece of Truestone. We will tell them of your quest, if not the specifics of your path. Be careful and may the ancestors guide you.”

Karrith comes to Norajia.
“Please take this, I saw a glimpse that a time might come that you will have use for it.”
He hands you a strange seed pod of a tree.
https://i.imgur.com/FOXEcOS.png " data-lightbox="images-msg-73">https://i.imgur.com/FOXEcOS.png " alt=''>






Salla says “Her name may mean something to you? She was called Varantas the Swift, she was a great warrior and rune lord early in this age.  she gave no quarter to chaos and one time killed three broos with one javelin. I don’t think she was a vampire, but she does require blood to awaken her back into the world. There are other stories about her that Shollak would know. I am sorry I don’t know more.”

Vorrik loads up his Zebra, the uncooperative beast eventually under his control, and he clumsily climbs into the saddle.
"Well, off we go, eh?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:57, Sat 23 May 2020.

After an hour or more riding north towards Caravan Alley the Dead Place, Norajia begins to hum a tune which soon firms up into a martial air familiar to many in the Wastes and Plains. She begins to sing.

"Our trail, it's true, brings hardships cruel and gruesome
Cheer up trooper! raise your eyes
Bullwind blowing, stretches out our banner
As our Khan commands the skies-
Berserkers, push! push! push!
Our lives we leave behind us
To hold the line on Chaos
Farewell, the bullhorn calls
Berserkers… Advance"


<OOC The tune resembles this one https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyq7ZZQe8kU (You'll have to imagine it without the orchestra and in a higher register)>

Tuari had snorted at the Sundomer as he leapt astride Odina with practiced ease.  Once the group had all mounted up he moved off north.  He remained wary of the others but set a pace the Mabwe could easily match.  After a few hours he stopped and cut himself again letting Varantas drink and check they were still on the right path.

Cresting a small hill, Tuari again feeds the bone.
<OOC: sorry this is a little icky, do you make the slice over the old healing injury? Same hand?other hand?>

From the altitude of the hill and your higher position on the back of Odina, you get a superior view of the direction the bone is pointing, as it once again jerks to life. Following the direction it points, you see it is poised toward Tada’s High Tumulus, visible but hazy on the horizon.
You understand that along the same general path lies the Moonbroth Oasis—the site of the disastrous Lunar invasion--and the western boundary of the Dead Place.
Day’s Rest is a bit off the path to the west.

As you consider this,  you see a riderless sable. From its gear Norajia recognizes it to be from Roneer’s clan, a clan that has not allied with the Lunar Empire. Its saddle has beast and fertility runes engraved in it.
“Where’s the rider, I wonder” muses Vorrik.

You also see a couple kilometers in the distance a half dozen circling shapes in the air, a little off the left from your path.

Tuari points towards the circling birds, "Probably over there, Norajia it's your tribe do we look or ride on?" he asked "Anyone have long sight spell?" he added looking at Vorrick wondering.

Norajia's graze flicks between the sable, the birds, Varantas' course, the sun, Vorric, Tuari and Lemak as she answers.

"Bear in mind, while I think this through, that my heart wants to divert in case this woman is still alive. You see where Varantas wants to go, and the Gods tell us to help her, do we see something she doesn't? One of the sites she points us toward is where Inire the Red rules the Sable tribe from Moonbroth." She screws her mouth up and sniffs before continuing. "Claims to rule it, claims to be Paps Khan under Egajia Chewer of Flesh's armistice with the Lunars." She nods to Mabwe. "This sable is from the clan of Roneer the Hue, he does not engage with the Lunars, they say he has not been North of the Eiritha Hills while they have been here. They say he is somewhere near the Paps."

"Why is this woman here alone? Well I suppose it is just her sable now alone, we may find more if we go to have a look. Is a member of Roneer's clan between Roneer's haunts and where we a going relevant to why we are going? I cannot tell. Perhaps Lemak can tell us if Broos have been at the sable. I would say that if we search there is a chance that we may learn something that will help us at Moonbroth, or getting around it if we have to. There is a certainty of delay. The owner of this sable should not be opposed to Varantas's goals at least. I think on balance I would like to investigate, but it is not Chalana's way to make these decisions, you others must decide, and I shall follow."

Vorrik stands up in his saddle. He murmurs in a language that you think is firespeech, touching the fire-sky rune in his bronze vambrace and his eyes flicker with golden light.

"Ugh, I can see a pile of round things being pecked at reluctantly by vultures. No survivors I'd say, and no other sables or other mounts in that area."   

"How. Big. Are the 'round things'. Compared to the vultures?" Norajia asks, closing her eyes and tracing a harmony rune on her chest.

Vorrik pulls his helmet back and squints a bit more

"Eh, lessee here... ehrm.... oh dear gods!"

"What vision did you see, outlander, that brought you to this tree and wigwam?" Lemak calls to Vorrik, as they prepare to leave, following Tuari's lead.




Lemak looks to Norajia curiously, but with a smile on his face.  He takes up the song after the first verse.

Brave souls, these are, each and every warrior,
At the charge with horns held high.
We attain our comradeship of glory,
Glory bought in blood and lives-
Berserkers, push! push! push!
Our lives we leave behind us
To hold the line on Chaos
Farewell, the bullhorn calls
Berserkers… Advance


At the end of this verse, he calls out to the sable rider with a laugh, "How does healer know a Storm Bull song?"

[OOC: credit to Norajia for the words to the song.]



"I will have to get closer to see or sense the signs of Chaos," Lemak says.  He pulls on his reigns to turn his high llama towards the distant sable...



...but stops at Vorrik's words.  "What is it?  What do you see?!"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:14, Mon 25 May 2020.

"My people, we value our independence. In that way we are much alike, eh Lemak? We are proud, not like those Pavisites who are happy to be part of a foreign empire so long as they can keep robbing honest travelers. Now it's true enough that my people may fight for a satrap here or there, when the money is right, but we are the ones who choose to do it.
My vision though, um, Well It was not pleasant, the Sun Dome, the Lunars, something about a uh a bat, and of course that old tree back there.
And now we're boon companions!"



Gathering his composure, Vorrik states:
"Er... say a bunch of llama riders came upon some enemies and were to cut off their heads... you know just to give them the old what for... would they just leave the heads there? I mean wouldn't the head be the trophy?"

Mabwe was considering telling the outsider's beast to walk on whilst he stood atop it, but decided against it when he heard what was seen. "Can you tell whether there are women and children amongst the victims?"

"Women and children would be taken as slaves by all Waha's people. Few would take the men as slaves, difficult to master. Morokanth would take them all, we know secrets taught by the Great Spirit that others were not, or forgot. We have ways."

Norajia smiles and bites her lips silently rocking backwards and forwards, deliberately not looking at Lemak




"Hrff! ...I have a brother, Lemak" she says "Guess where his friends come on No Wound Day. Not many sables used to follow the Bull, but times are changing. And, whatever people say about them, Stormbulls do not let fear get the better of them. It is a good song for that, and I suppose that is what brought it to mind."







Norajia opens her eyes again and looks off into the distance, perhaps trying to remember something.

Lemak can't help but acknowledge what the wetlander says.  Fair enough.  And it does seem he at least had a vision of the tree.



And now you've spoiled it.  He looks away and starts to ride off after Tuari.




The high llama brave lets out a full laugh and gives a nod of approval.  Nice.  This healer isn't so bad.  For a sable rider.




"I wonder if this was the work of that scorpionman my brothers and sisters mentioned," Lemak says drawing his lance from the side of his mount.  He rides towards the sable first, and then as he passes by it, he changes direction to head to the mound of heads, all the time scanning the land for movement.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:47, Tue 26 May 2020.

Vorrik looks at Mabwe with a frown and, catching the Morokanth's gaze, looks away suddenly.



Riding up to the pile of objects, the vultures scatter. They don't seem to be too disappointed to be driven off from this pitiful meal. You are correct that the objects are human heads and they may have been deliberately placed into a pile, although the agitation of the carrion birds has somewhat unsettled it. Scanning the area you think the wind must blown hard over the wastes, dispersing any sign of tracks.

Norajia looks expectantly from the departing Strombull to the rest of the party and back a few times before rolling her eyes and kicking her mount towards the riderless sable. "'Not my way' my ass!" she mutters.
"Come on, Honey, let's see if we can find your mistress..." She takes its reins "hmm, There is blood on this sable's saddle, can any of you track its path properly? maybe the rider was thrown after the ambush."
Keeping the sable twenty yards back from the pile of heads, Noragia starts checking its saddle bags for any clues about its owners

As he approaches the sable, Lemak stiffens a moment.  He looks back at the others and loudly hisses "Chaos!".



Nearer the heads, though, he frowns.  Hmm, no Chaos here...  Well, as Kesa the Horn taught, 'If in doubt, assume there's Chaos!'  He looks back at the riderless sable.  Maybe that means... the scorpionman then headed towards the direction we're coming from...?



He notices Norajia checking the saddle bags and turns his mount around.  "Be careful!  What if the scorpionman bore disease spirits of Mallia?!"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:59, Thu 28 May 2020.

Puffing a bit from rushing to catch up with the others Mabwe moves to the sable grumbling "Rushing off without a thought for those walking."

Then he looks at the beast over more closely than he was given a chance before.

The sable falls in line with Norajia's sable.
As Norajia and Mabwe inspect the saddle you see a circular green slimy film, about the size of a man's hand.
There are 15 heads. It is difficult to be certain but you suspect there are at least male and female and that they range quite a bit in size. It might be hard to say much more without inspecting them more hands-on.
You don't see much in the way of a trail or anything in the immediate area that shows that a struggle took place here.

Noragia slows up as she approaches the sable inspecting its accoutrements before taking the reins


"Sorry, Mabwe" Noragia grins at him doing her best to wrinkle her nose (though this is insignificant by morocanth standards)


"Watch out for that icky stuff, I think it's venom or some other sort of poison. Let's hope that's the Chaos Lemak felt."


Noragia grins again and says "Teach your Grandmother to spin wool, Lemak. It's not my first round-up you know."

Looking at the pile of heads, she says "There used to be a story when I was little, Old Kopsiclaw; he was supposed to take away peoples' bodies and leave the head behind. But maybe it was just a tale to keep us near camp. Whatever it is, if a dozen sables couldn't hold it off I don't want to hang around here. Let me see if I can get this saddle off without splashing goo all over us, and perhaps Lemak can tell if the Chaos is there or in the animal."

"First I'll cremate... what's left," Lemak says, nodding towards the remains.  "They deserve that at least."  He dismounts to shoo off the vultures and deal with the heads.

Tuari shakes his head at the pile of skulls remaining sklent as the healer and chaos fighter take charge.  Hearing Noraijia's tale he spoke up "We called him Elder Leadclaw, I thought it was just a story too." he then stood up in the sadle and looked around the area for anywhere something could hide.

Lemak skillfully identifies some flammable brush and kindling and, despite the strong fire season winds, successfully gets a fire blazing.

You give the bodies heads a proper send off to the spirit world. Vorrik removes his helmet solemnly.
"Should someone say a few words, do you suppose?" he asks, looking at Norajia.

If you like, you can also burn the saddle. Lemak perceives that the chaos taint is entirely on the saddle and that the sable is just a normal beast (although you can never be too sure). The green venom doesn't appear to have soaked through or touched the animal's skin.
The sable will accompany you if you let it, otherwise you think  it will probably still follow at a distance.

Investigating the area, Tuari sees a few spots in the scrub that could conceal an ambusher but finds nothing. The birds are chirping and all seems to be normal.

Norajia nods. "Mmm... I suppose they should." She says, looking at Thangar and Mabwe

"I won't say no to another pair of horns. With five daughters to send out, any sable is more than welcome, especially a riding one" Norajia says "We'd better tether it separately for a few nights on the off chance there's anything untoward. I didn't sense any disease spirit in it, but better safe than sorry.

Mabwe follows Norajia's gaze to Thangar and after a moment of silence makes a snort, perhaps the equivalent of a human clearing their throat. "Waha welcome the souls of those men here to your tent, Eiritha welcome the souls of the women to your herd, Storm Bull avenge your followers for their death by Chaos and Daka Fal find a way for those souls of those too young to have found their own way."

"Great Spirits accept their souls as we free them from their bod... <snort> from their heads."

Norajia nods gratefully to Mabwe, and she traces a death rune flanked by two lines for harmony in air in the direction of the pyre. "...and may the Great Herd treat you kindly" She adds in an undertone.

Vorrik stands, nodding. Then a little too soon after the eulogy he says, "Well, I don't know about you all, but I'm starving. Maybe we should move on a bit before taking our midday meal, hmm?"

"A good idea outlander" Mabwe says "Perhaps there is hope for you yet."

Then turning to Norajia he says "As far as I'm concerned you can look after the sable, but if time turn hard and needs be then it'll provide sustenance for all before it is a dowry gift."

Thangar, who has been silently and somewhat nervously riding along, speaks up. "I was sung a song about Ol' Leadclaw as a child to keep me and the other children in line. If you hadn't mentioned the scorpion man earlier, I'd have forgotten it completely. But I do remember, "He’ll take your soul and leave your head."

Norajia shrugs.

Later, on the trail, riding beside Vorrik, she says "You speak excellent Praxian, for a ground-grubber". Although not phrased as a question, her sideways look suggests that she finds the observation intriguing.

Lemak adds his own words to the eulogy.  "Storm Bull grant that we have the opportunity to take revenge on your behalf."

As the party rides on, he scans the surroundings with greater scrutiny than normal.  He says to the others, "As I was burning the heads, I noticed that one had a cracked skull, as if caused by a sling bullet.  I don't know of this Leadclaw, but it looks like we need to beware not only his claw, but also his bullets."

"Oh, do you really think so?" he asks with a wide grin. "The accent isn't too much? Well, we spend a fair amount of time in the wastes. And you may find this hard to believe but I was once quite enamored of a Praxian maiden, 'fleas and all' as they say (no offense), who paid occasionally visits to Pavis, as did I. It was a relationship that couldn't work out though."
He sighs.


After heading north for a couple of kilometers, you notice a short distance to the northwest (in the direction of Kero Fin rather than Tada's High Tumulus, your last heading from the bone) a stand of trees.

Norajia's lower lip rises and she pauses for a moment before replying.
"It is sad when the simple things in life are made complicated" she says.

She shields her eyes looking towards the trees. "Is that Day's Rest over there?" she says, "Maybe, with this threat around, it would be wise to camp where there are more eyes to keep watch and more Wahanos to impede Chaos"

<OOC: you think you're only about half way to Day's Rest. I'll try to upload a more detailed map later today>

Tuari nods agreeing with Norajia "That sounds like a wise choice, it will also get us fresh water depending which clans are there of course.  We can test the direction to travel from there."  he raised his hand to block the sun and gazed across towards the trees.

Please let me know if you want to take another reading off the bone, make for Day's Rest, investigate the trees, or something else.



This is about 10 km top to bottom.
Not sure what "Moonbrooth" is!

"Day's Rest sounds good for the night, but it's a ways off. We'll pass close by the stand of trees so perhaps it'd be good to rest in the shade."

"We should be cautious though, a good place to hide out I expect."

Lemak nods in agreement with the morokanth.  "Camp at Day's Rest but stop at those trees for a rest.  And if the scorpion man is there, all the better.  We can take it out, and prevent it fouling the trees."  He pulls on the reins to turn his high llama to the left.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:56, Thu 04 June 2020.

Tuari considered using the bone but decided against it, he would do so again once they had discovered what was at the strange trees. "I agree, the trees here in Prax... is unusual we should see what is there."

Norajia hums the "Far away" song fitfully as she indicates to her sables that they can follow the lead beasts towards the trees.

As you continue toward the stand of trees, you see that they are growing on either side of a section of sunken path, perhaps a collapsed section of the mostly invisible, fertile roads left by the chariot wheels of the great god Ronance.
 It’s about 100 meters across and 600 meters long. The banks are crumbled but fairly steep and about 2m tall. The section runs generally west by southwest toward east by northeast.
A number of small trees are concentrated along its banks, which you suspect serves as an excellent watering hole for the local wildlife, at least during the other seasons. Even now there is some standing water mixed with the thick mud. There are no animals present now, however, not even birds… Your mounts do not seem eager to climb down the banks, and Vorrik is struggling some with his zebra. You can easily ride around it. If you ride down into the sunken section it will require a riding roll (or a climb roll for Mabwe).
Thangar, Norajia and Lemak all notice what look like a large number of crisscrossing tracks.
The tracks look like they could belong to a giant beetle, and they continue out of site around a bend in the path.

Mabwe looks from the tracks to the others "Lots of them, too many for me to read properly. What's the difference between giant beetle and big scorpionman tracks?"

"I don't know why there's no wildlife at all, not when there's water here. I don't like it, but it's Waha's way to sort it. You sense anything Lemak?"

OOC: Is the path/tracks around the edge at the top, or down below?

"It's a well known fact that the sables like what I like" Norajia says "And, we don't like this"

The tracks are noticeable down in the little ravine, only where it's wet. You don't see much in the dry grasses around the lip of the sunken stretch.

Lemak nudges his high llama towards the trees on the closer bank, his lance equipped and pointing forwards, scanning for any movement.  As he approaches the trees, he regards the pool of water to check for signs that it's drinkable - animals tracks or vegetation near the water's edge.

From the successful tracking of Lemak, Thangar and Norajia, which they point out to the rest of the party, you think there has recently been some animal activity and that the water is probably not poisonous. It's hard to tell if the big arthropod tracks are more or less recent than those of the small canine and lizard tracks.
None of you is so sure about the giant beetle part, you think the tracks could belong to something else.
Closer inspection suggests that the tracks occasionally disappear at the bank, as if something was navigating in and out of the little ravine.
Vorrik's zebra shifts uneasily as he tugs on its reigns. He is at a rare loss for words.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:04, Mon 08 June 2020.

Norajia seems uncomfortable and cranes her neck left and right trying to look all around her while she waits for the others to decide how to proceed

"I sense something strange," says Lemak.  "It does not feel like the presence of Chaos, but... maybe Chaos has passed through here..." he tails off uncertainly.  "Let's refresh and then move on, but do not let down your guard."  He replaces his lance with his dagger-axe - better for combat at close range - and nudges his high llama toward the water to drink.

Lemak guides Lobber, the huge camelid, into the shallow ravine, which it descends easily with its long legs.
<OOC: I assume the rest of the party follows? Please let me know if otherwise>
Vorrik successfully manages to get this longsuffering zebra to follow.

Tuari waits until the rest of the group have gone forward before joining in at the rear of the group.

Norajia follows the warriors into the gully.
"SHHH!"
She interjects, head cocked on one side, "I hear something, off to the left, guzzling, slavering, like boars feeding."

"I hear it" Mabwe says, but as he responds he turns his back on that direction to face completely the other way "but whatever it is, it is still as it eats. I am more concerned about the skittering noise approaching us from that way" and he points to their right, roughly northeast.

Norajia sidles her sable up to Vorric's zebra, and takes it's bridle talking soothingly to it. "Do you fight on foot or in the saddle Vorric?" she asks. "Now might be time to prepare"

In reply to Norajia (msg # 125):

Vorrik climbs out of his saddle and gratefully hands its reigns to Norajia. He readies his spear looking to the left and right.

Mabwe unships the shield that he has been carrying on his back and readies it "It was about 50 strides away I judge and heading this way."

"If things get nasty then someone keep an eye open behind in case the sounds draw the eater from its feast."

Please let me know if you want to dismount or shift your position.
Right now I have left to right Lemak, Mabwe, Norajia, Vorrik, Thangar, Tuari.
Everyone can now hear the skittering sounds.

Lemak stays mounted on Lobber, spurring the animal across to the trees on the other side, then turns his high llama to face east, so that he prepare for what skitters towards them, but also keep the western approach in the corner of his sight, in case whatever is eating in that direction decides to move towards them.

Shield ready Mabwe moves into the middle of the gorge to better see the thing approach relying on others to warn if the eater comes from behind.

Norajia will remain mounted, and will try to keep any riderless beasts from fleeing. She will watch for movement from the West (eating) direction but also keep checking for any incapacitating injuries that require her intervention. She would have to leave the spare beasts in order to extricate and treat casualties.

Tuari turned to face the skittering noise, lowering his lance he prepared to spur forward to engage at a charge.

You suddenly see the source of the skittering sound: rounding an outpouching of the bank, the joints in its carapace making an odd creaking as they slide over each other, is a scorpion man.
The lower half of its body is like that of a scorpion, but without the head and claws, and much, much larger. Its upper body is that of a malformed humanoid, although it is also covered in shiny exoskeleton. You notice that it's carrying a wicked looking club and has 3 javelins protruding from a filthy satchel on its back.
Seeing you, it stops abruptly about 20 meters away.

Here's what I have for the current distribution of characters:

Seeing the scorpion man, Lemak raises his dagger-axe into attack stance, as he kicks Lobber forward at speed to swing at the enemy.  "Storm Bull, aid my cause!" he roars, sending his spirit to course through his body, lending the strength of a bull.
[OOC: Lemak casts the Rune spell Impede Chaos on himself.]
This message was last edited by the player at 00:42, Fri 19 June 2020.

Mabwe concentrates on one of the tattoos on his chest to focus his soul as he mutters an incantation and points towards the scorpionman.

"Orlanth grant me your shield!" Tuari cries out before spurring Ondari forward lowering his lance we will attempt to stab the beast.

OOC: Cast Shield I on himself, charge with the lance keeping the scorpionman on his shielded side.

COMBAT round 1
Strike rank 1
The scorpion man lets out a loud shriek.
Tuari calls down the power of Orlanth and faint blue lightning crackles over his body, granting divine protection.
Lemak invokes the power of Storm Bull,  a rushing wind distorts the air around him in the shape of a winged bull before dissipating and leaving behind a shimmer that covers the llama rider’s body.
Tuari and Lemak drive their mounts at the creature.
>OOC closing will take 7 SRs<

Strike Rank 8
On Mabwe’s command, translucent tendrils of darkness spring from the earth and encircle the creature, slowing its movements.

>OOC: on SR10, Tuari will strike with his lance and on SR11 Lemak will attack and Scorpion man will swing his club. Please roll attacks and parries just in case ;) , I can roll if you don't have a chance in the next day.<

In reply to Gargle (msg # 138):

<OOC also maybe go ahead and roll damage and hit location just in case, to speed things up>

Lemak draws back his dagger-axe as Lobber approaches the scorpionman, timing his swing at the Choas creature as his high llama reaches the right distance.

Norajia pales at the sound of the scorpionman's cry, and listens for any change in the sounds from the west

Strike rank 10
Tuari drives his bison forward and attacks with his lance. The lance narrowly misses the scorpion man, passing over its left shoulder.
Scorpion man is slowed by Mabwe’s spell and attacks with his club at SR11 and with his tail on SR12.
Strike rank 11 Lemak attacks with his dagger axe. The scorpion man attempts to twist its body out of the way but only partially succeeds, bringing its tail in the way of the blow. Lemak’s savage swing of the dagger axe easily hacks through the creature’s tail, the severed stinger still wriggling on the ground. Blueish slime surges from the injured stalk but the creature is still alive.
The enraged scorpion man swings at Lemak with its club, aiming at his abdomen. While hampered Lemak's rune spell, it neverthless manages to deliver its blow on target. Lemak reverses the dagger axe and blocks the blow, his weapon none the worse for wear.

Strike rank 12
Norajia sees a second scorpion man appears from the southwest, he appears to be (at least in part) responsible for the eating sounds. It has a young baboon draped over its shoulder and has gore dripping from its mouth down the front of its chest. It carries a large hide shield and a spear.

Mabwe! Vorric! Behind you! Norajia shouts, as she marshals the spare beasts out of the way of the morocanth and outlander's route to the new enemy.

<OOC the above diagram makes it look like the scorpion men are huge, they actually would be right at home in your party in terms of size>

With a roar of success, Lemak presses his attack, swinging at the Chaos monster's head, and ignoring the sounds behind him.

Mabwe spins on his hooves and seeing the second scorpionman approaching prepares to meet it. He tries to cast a spell to enhance his claws, but finds it hard to concentrate with the surprise appearance of the enemy.

Tuari stabs once again at the creature missing once more with a curse he tosses the lance aside and draws his broadsword.

Combat round 2!
SR 1
Tuari jabs at the skittering scorpion man, his lance again going wide of the target. Casting it aside he draws his special broadsword.

SR 2 Thangar concentrates on the tattoos on their arm and casts protection on Mabwe, who instantly feels slightly insulated from harm. 

SR 5
Lemak attacks the skittering scorpion man with his dagger axe. He misses the dodgy creature.

SR 6
The eating scorpion man attacks Vorrik with his club, lashing out at his legs. Vorrik attempts to parry with his spear and successfully blocks the blow, but the strength of the scorpion man pushes its club past the spear, plinking off Vorrik's greaves.

SR 7
Mabwe attacks the eating scorpion man with his claws.  While he has excellent form, the scorpion man scoots out of the way to dodge the blow. 
The eating scorpion man attacks Vorrik with its stinger. The wicked tail lashes forward but misses over his left shoulder.

SR 12 
The discarded spear out of the way, Tuari's broadsword is drawn.

<OOC: so my interpretation of the rules (and from what I glean from the rune fixes) is that, unless splitting attacks, characters only get one melee attack per round. This case is interesting to me because Tuari had plenty of strike ranks to attack, ready a second weapon, and attack again of SR 11 or 12, but this seems to be disallowed. I'll carry over those rolls into round 3 though>

<OOC: this ends the second round, I'll post round 3 tomorrow, please let me know if you want to do anything different and/or make the rolls you want to>

Combat Round 3

SR 5
Lemak attacks the skittering scorpion man with his dagger axe. The long weapon strikes the creature’s right foreleg, penetrating its exoskeleton, the leg is still attached but badly injured.

Tuari slashes at the skittering scorpion man with his broadsword. The creature tries to bring its club up to deflect the blow but in its magically slowed state is unable. Tuari's broadsword slashes into the creature’s right forearm and blue blood rushes out, it bellows in pain but is still living.

SR 6
The non-slowed scorpion man bellows, blood spraying out of its mouth, and brings its club down at Mabwe. Mabwe brings his shield up deftly intercepting the blow.
Vorrik thrusts his spear at the eating scorpion man. The creature attempts to parry but is unable to stop the thrust, which hits it in the chest drawing blood.

SR 7
Mabwe slashes at the eating scorpion man with his right claw but misses.

The eating scorpion man attacks Vorrik with its stinger, which swings wild.
<OOC Almost got to roll on the fumble table>

At the east end of the melee, the skittering scorpion man attacks Lemak with its club.
Lemak attempts to turn the dagger-axe into defensive position but is unable to deflect the club, which makes contact but bounces off the vambrace of Lemak’s left arm.

<OOC That's the end of round 3, please let me know if you do anything different, otherwise I assume you'll keep hacking and parrying as necessary. Feel free to make rolls and I'll try to post the next round in the next 24 hours or so>

Mabwe continues to press his attack.

Raising his broadsword high above his head Tuari brought it down upon the foul chaos beast.



16:07, Today: Tuari rolled 7 using 1d8+1+1d6.  Damage.
16:07, Today: Tuari rolled 4 using 1d20.  Location.
16:06, Today: Tuari rolled 21 using 1d100.  Broadsword attack <95 Ride <80.

Round 4!

SR 5
The scorpion man that was the source of the skittering noises is unwell, with a severed tail, badly damaged arm and maimed foreleg. It rocks back and forth a bit, sickly bluish blood flowing from its wounds.
Raising his broadsword high above his head Tuari brings it down upon the foul chaos beast. It somehow with its damaged arm swings its club around and blocks the blow.

Lemak swings his dagger axe in a wide arc at the creature but fails to connect.

SR 6
On the west side of the ravine, Vorrik thrusts his spear at the scorpion man who blocks the weapon with a twist of its club. Vorrik’s spear makes a sickening cracking sound from the impact and a small crack appears in the shaft.

SR 7
Mabwe strikes ferociously with his claws. The scorpion man tries to zig out of the way but Mabwe connects with its tail, cracking through the exoskeleton.  The deadly stinger is not severed but falls limp behind the beast, useless for the time being.

Blinded by the pain, it swings its club wildly.

On the other side of the field, the skittering scorpion man swings its club at Lemak but is hampered by Storm Bull’s blessing, its swing missing narrowly. You notice that apart from being slowed by Mabwe’s spell, the creature’s upper body teeters dramatically. The blood gushing from its arm, its tail and its leg has slowed and the creature collapses. It seems to still be gasping for the time being.

Round 4!

SR 5
The scorpion man that was the source of the skittering noises is unwell, with a severed tail, badly damaged arm and maimed foreleg. It rocks back and forth a bit, sickly bluish blood flowing from its wounds.
Raising his broadsword high above his head Tuari brings it down upon the foul chaos beast. It somehow with its damaged arm swings its club around and blocks the blow.

Lemak swings his dagger axe in a wide arc at the creature but fails to connect.

SR 6
On the west side of the ravine, Vorrik thrusts his spear at the scorpion man who blocks the weapon with a twist of its club. Vorrik’s spear makes a sickening cracking sound from the impact and a small crack appears in the shaft.

SR 7
Mabwe strikes ferociously with his claws. The scorpion man tries to zig out of the way but Mabwe connects with its tail, cracking through the exoskeleton.  The deadly stinger is not severed but falls limp behind the beast, useless for the time being.

Blinded by the pain, it swings its club wildly.

On the other side of the field, the skittering scorpion man swings its club at Lemak but is hampered by Storm Bull’s blessing, its swing missing narrowly. You notice that apart from being slowed by Mabwe’s spell, the creature’s upper body teeters dramatically. The blood gushing from its arm, its tail and its leg has slowed and the creature collapses. It seems to still be gasping for the time being.

Mabwe finds it difficult to repeat his success.

Tuari continues to rain down blows against the scorpionman.

Emboldened by the fact he is yet unscathed, Lemak knows that Storm Bull blesses him in this fight against Chaos.  With another primal roar born of hate, he swings again to cleave the monster, bringing down his weapon with all his might.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:12, Sat 27 June 2020.

ROUND 5!

SR 5
Tuari and Lemak simultaneously deliver savage blows to the downed scorpion man; Tuari’s sword penetrating the natural armor in its chest and Lemak’s dagger axe completely severing its right arm. It was close to death before, now there is no question.
The spawn of chaos has been destroyed!


SR 6
Vorrik hoping for glory drives his spear at the remaining scorpion man but it blocks his spear.

SR 7
Mabwe claws at the scorpion man but doesn’t make contact.
The scorpion man, enraged at Mabwe for hurting its tail, swings its club at Mabwe striking his chest. The club is magically repelled, barely saving Mabwe from injury.

Mabwe, angered himself by letting the thing breach his defences brings his claw around in a brutal slash at the scorpionman's head!
This message was last edited by the player at 06:51, Sun 28 June 2020.

ROUND 6

SR 1-12 Lemak and Tuari, surveying the wreckage of the eastern scorpion man, turn their mounts and gallop toward the west side of the ravine.

SR 6
Vorrik lunges forward with his spear but the scorpion man deftly dodges out of the way.
The scorpion man overreaches with its club in a vicious sweep at Mabwe, missing to the side and striking the hard packed earth.

SR7
Mabwe seeing an opportunity lashes out with his claw. The scorpion man tries to block the talon but is too slow. Mabwe slashes through the creature’s natural armor and deep into its head, spraying blood and goo on the floor of the ravine.
The creature suddenly becomes suddenly motionless, then teeters to the side, collapsing in a crumpled heap.

The second chaos abomination has been destroyed!

"Not even a scratch for me to kiss better?" Norajia laughs anxiously"Perhaps the White Lady has sent me along for some other reason. Not that I'd have wished any harm to come to any of you! Oh dear, shut up Norajia."
She blushes and fiddles with the necklace that wears, staring fixedly at Modesty's mane.
"I can tell you if there is disease in any of their effects at least... Is there anything you'd like me to look at?"

MAbwe wipes his claws on the earth to remove the gore as he says to Norajia "I suspect that anything valuable that they have stolen is in their packs. I know you lot sometimes take the stingers of these things to make antidotes, something you can do? Or perhaps someone at the oasis?"

He moves towards the area the eating sounds came from "Not much chance, but maybe there is a survivor."

Norajia brightens at the thought of something constructive to do "Yes, yes!" she says clapping her hands instinctively.
"These would be very useful, I shall draw the venom, it is not without risk of course, but I have done it before. Once."

Sliding off her mount she reaches into her healer's kit for a gourd which seems to have been turned into a flask. Starting with the dismembered stinger, she positions the flask and works her stone knife into the carapace below the sting. A few pumps of her arm produces a modest stream of disappointingly bland watery liquid with a tinge of blue from the incision.
"Ha!" she says, carefully taking the flask across to the semi attached stinger.
She repeats the process, somewhat less deliberately but producing a greater volume of venom. "Hmm." Carefully, she ties the stopper onto to the gourd/flask. "This should be enough for several antidotes." she says.

<OOC 20:11, Today: Norajia rolled 4 using 2d3 with rolls of 1,3.  vial's worth.
19:42, Today: Norajia rolled 27 using 1d100.  Treat Poison Eating stinger (65).
19:41, Today: Norajia rolled 10 using 1d100.  Treat Poison Skittering stinger (65) >

Norajia masterfully collects several doses of venom from the two tails.

Back in the direction from which you heard the eating sounds, there is a pile of fur and bones, which you recognize as belonging to another baboon. You also find 220 L in coins that have been split into two rough piles. One has 8 gold wheels, and the other has 60 silver Lunars.

You begin to notice the chirping of crickets. A blackbird caws nearby, and nature seems to be returning to the small ravine.

Lemak is disappointed he didn't get the chance to join the combat against the second scorpion man.  Seeing its demise, he turns once more and back in the direction of the scorpion man he fought, to check if any others are present.  Not finding any, he returns to the party, giving praise to the Storm Bull.

Tuari gives Norajia his sword and says "White Lady, can you purify my blade less the spirits of chaos and disease have tainted it.  I will go and recover my lance as well."  rides back and recovers his lance and returns to Norajia for the cleansing ritual.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:40, Thu 02 July 2020.

While the blood from the scorpion man is foul, Norajia does not detect disease spirits. Normal cleaning appears adequate.

"There is no disease on your weapons Tuari" Norjia says "In fact, I do not detect any diseases on these scorpion-men, though it is wisest not to touch them with the tolerance for venom that their constitution allows"

We all know that Broos are the most likely of the Chaos herd to carry disease, and we all think that we know enough not to pick up things that they have befouled. You would be surprised though, how often a gleam of treasure makes us forget our caution at the vital moment. It is almost like a curse. It takes a week to drive diseases out of an object once they are there, and it cannot be moved in that time. Fortunately it is more difficult for the disease to get from a creature to an object than from an object to a creature

"Tuari nods "Thank you Norajia of the White, praise Chalana Arroy for her protection.  Do we continue the search or move on?" he indicates first the ravine and then points in the direction of there planned next stop.  "Or should we bury the Baboons and send them to Grandfather Baboon?"

Norajia grins. "I'm more of an off-white lady Tuari" she says. "I'm not that good with the magic, and I don't have all my skill badges yet." She looks to Mabwe about the treatment of the Baboon dead.

Mabwe notices Norajia's look and snorts saying "What do I know of baboons and their rites?!"

Still, it is not a good way for anything to go and if there is a chance that he can allow the spirit of the unfortunates on to whatever fate awaits them then he feels like he should try at least.

He thins a moment and then clears his throat and draws his knife. "No idea if this will work, but" he shrugs. Drawing the blade he takes what remains of the poor creatures and draws the blade across them in a recognizable pattern singing as he does so.

"Grandfather Baboon
Father of baboons
Here my call
Come here soon.

This land is harsh
Not all survive
Come gather the souls
Of these who have died.

Grandfather Baboon
Father of baboons
Here my call
Come here soon.

I worship Waha
But now honour you
Any spirit of this land
That can do what you do.

Grandfather Baboon
Father of baboons
Here my call
Come here soon.

To the Earth
We'll inter them
Until to a new life
You can birth them.

Grandfather Baboon
Father of baboons
Here my call
Come here soon."

As he sings he scratches a hole into the earth with his powerful claws before laying the two corpses, parent and child perhaps, into the ground and covering them over.

After a respectful pause, Noragia gives Mabwe a hug. She doesn't find anything to say, but appears to be moved.

Looking about the area, and searching with his senses for further Chaos, Lemak finally says, "We should cremate the young baboon to send its spirit forth.  This is the way.  The scorpion men we should burn where they lay, so they don't foul the wastes further.  And as a warning to others of their kind."

Mabwe shakes his head at Lemak's words "No. Baboons have a strong affinity with the Earth. Let it rest where I have buried it."

"As for the scorpionmen, if you can find enough scrub to burn them then good. Otherwise the vultures and the hyena's will deal with them, they have the stomachs for it."

You are able to find plenty of scrub in the area which you prop under the carcasses of the scorpion men.
Starting slowly the fire engulfs the chaos abominations, sending acrid smoke billowing. The carcasses hiss and pop. They are reduced to ash and the small ravine is purged.
The sun is getting lower in the sky.
You think you can reach Days Rest an hour or two after nightfall if you make some haste.

"Fair enough," says Lemak, deferring to the (assistant) shaman's greater knowledge of these things.  And of baboons.

He squints at the dying Sun.  After the scorpion man carcasses have been set alight, he makes a show of walking to Lobber, saying to the others over his shoulder, "If we press, we can get to Days Rest tonight..."

Ok, I think there's enough of a quorum to move forward.

You arrive at Day's Rest, a large oasis. 

If you wish to rest here for a week, you can make any experience or POW checks from the story so far.

Though tired from their almost continuous march and fight the previous day Mabwe cannot rest for they have arrived on Waha's holy day.

The morokanth tries to find suitable followers to worship with and spends the day in ceremonies.

Once it is decided that the party are remaining in Days Rest for the week's holy days, Noragia will look for an Eirtha initiate to get all the beasts blessed on High Holy Day. She will mention that the Zebra is ridden by Vorric Brighthelm in case his Pavis Nomad old flame happens to be in town...
If the boys need any help on Waha's day even just to mind the camp while they go and do their thing she will assist.
She will look for the local healing house and see if they can use her help and ask about the holy day coming up and where the ceremony is going to be.

She will also look for any local musicians that might be prepared to let her jam with them in whatever spare time is left.

So a few things happening here:

-Norajia successfully locates both a healer and a priestess of Eiritha

-There is a small Lunar garrison in the oasis. You sense that the oasis dwellers are pretty apolitical and are not interested in making any waves. They have a good thing going and don't want it to get messed up

-A group of unicorn riders passed through last week and left an impression on the community. They were inquiring about a golden haired, missing member of their clan named Teshana

-Mabwe finds only a few lay members of Waha's cult, they are all human and seem a little suspicious, but agree that Mabwe should lead the worship service


<OOC reminder: You get a +10 to worship rolls for every magic point (after the first two) you sacrifice.>

Norajia will see if she can buy any suitable offerings (sweet-grass, or some more standard fodder of Eiritha, wine or incense for Chalana Arroy). If none is available she will use some of her spice-root supplies.

<OC we get +20% for a seasonal holy day and +5% fro a small (rabbit / wine) sized sacrifice.
However if no shrine is present we will have to cast the Sanctify rune spell in order to have a space to perform the worship.
Ritual can help with the sanity spell and also (separately) with the worship roll>

Gathering his 'herd' of laymembers about him Mabwe begins the ritual to channel their soul offerings to Waha and strengthen him so that he can preserve them and their way of life.

Dancing in the chosen area and singing his songs of worship he begins the ritual to first generate a link between this word and the world of the great spirit. His dancing performance leaves a lot to be desired, perhaps because his is not exactly built for it. His singing is far better though and his connection to the spirit world becomes quite clear to everyone as the boundaries between the worlds shimmer and a bubble of their world enters the spirit world.

All about them they can see through the shimmering veil around their bubble the spirits of the great beasts and men who roamed this land. Some, attracted by the appearance even pass through the barrier to commune with the souls of the still living.

In reply to Mabwe (msg # 182):

Much better than:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=irqgUoeep1I

Norajia attends the Eiritha High holy day as a lay member and passes on an offering to have the group's mounts blessed.

Despite spending half an hour in ritual preparation at the end of the week and offering a small sacrifice, she fails to open a connection to participate in the great spirit's mysteries on her seasonal holy day. A limited amount of divine favour is made available, but Norajia decides she will be less self conscious about embarking on apparently excessive ritual in future.

19:40, Today: Norajia rolled 2 using 1d3.  Runepoints replenished.
19:37, Today: Norajia rolled 94 using 1d100.  Worship C.A. half hr Rit. Small offr, Seas HD 35+55.

Lemak argues against staying a week at the oasis, remembering his dream and the fear he held of impending peril to his clan and family.  But it seems he is outvoted.  And given that it seems there have been others given similar commands by their own gods, he decides to stay with the group rather than press forward alone.

He joins Mabwe's worship of the Khan of Khans, honoured son of the Great Bull, joining the singing and dancing.

And a few days later, he participates in the high holy day events for Eiritha as well, wife of the Great Bull.  Well, as much as males have roles in the worship.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:41, Thu 16 July 2020.

Hi guys, sorry for the radio silence, had some significant drains on my energy IRL. So you stay at Day's Rest for 10 days and leave on Clay Day of Stasis Week?



The situation at Days Rest is largely uneventful.* Vorrik spends most of the time sitting by the water and talking to some ibises. He also gets his damaged spear replaced.Your mounts are suitably blessed.
Do you wish to give the bone another feeding or follow the last known heading?

*<OOC: incidentally there's a GenCon game called "Trouble at Day's Rest" that your humble GM will be playing in. So I'll know more about the canonical features of this oasis after you leave it!>

Mabwe is ready to hit the trail again, happy with the success of his leadership of the Waha worship, with the way it showed the humans the prowess of Morokanth.

Gorath after a weeks rest is ready to get moving again, each day he had fed the bone anxious to get moving but knowing that the group needed time for their various deities.

A few items as you pack up and head out from Day's Rest-

A small caravan arrives from Pimper's block, they reported coming across a pile of severed human heads about 20 km northwest.

While the Lunar soldiers mostly stay in their garrison, being waited on by the oasis dwellers, you notice a few of them looking at you funny during your stay. It's unusual for them to see a "cosmopolitan" group of Praxians gathered from the great tribes and you think they are probably at least mildly curious. 

Tuari, you notice it is taking a little more blood to activate the bone of Varantas. Not a lot, but you don't like the trend... While you are no stranger to injuries in your rough life on the plains of Prax, you wonder if the wounds will start to add up if the bone's thirst continues to grow.

The bone is pointing north by north east in the general direction of Tada's High Tumulus, the great burial mound of the Praxian hero Tada. The oasis of Moonbroth, the site of a major battle in the Lunar conquest of Prax, lies along that general direction as well.

Later that day, Vorrik has a chance to speak to Tuari about the bone.

"Perhaps it needs more blood because our target is farther away. If we close the distance, would we notice a difference?"

The normally cheerful warrior frowns slightly in regret. "I wish I had thought at the time to dip the bone in the Scorpion Man's blood. Would that have recharged its seeking ability?"

Seeing the larger man's surprised expression, he grins at Tuari. "I'm not just a pretty face, you know. And not just a warrior. I'm also a Sundome Templar, and used to making such theological experiments."

"Or she might have hated drinking Chaos blood, I know I would!" Mabwe says before adding to Tuari "Perhaps she has a taste for you now, can't get enough of you by the time we get where ever it is we are going."

As your group starts its journey out of the comfortable oasis on stasis on Clayday of Stasis week, you notice that the Lunar troops in the local garrison appear to be in a high state of alert, performing an increased number of drills, scrubbing their armor (or compelling local oasis dwellers to do this work), sharpening their weapons, and tidying the barracks. They send small scouting parties into the east, more frequently than you think would be necessary.

You travel a day's ride along the route indicated by the increasingly thirsty Bone, the desert winds blowing hot out of the east.
Danger finds you not this day.
As majestic Yelm dips behind the distant Skyreach Mountains, you find a protected niche in the chaparral that looks suitable for setting up camp.

Vorrik, Lemak, Tuari and Norajia all think you are about the same distance southeast of Pimpers Block and northeast of Hender's ruins.
You post a watch for the night... 

Lemak frowns at overhearing Vorrik and is about to respond, but Mabwe chips in first.  This Sun Domer was gradually growing on me, and then he says something like using tainted blood...



"I'll take first watch," Lemak offers, combing down Lobber after the day's ride.  He finds comfortable spot that provides shelter and also allows him to stand/sit sentry watching the approaches to their camp.

In his mind, he regrets they could not head north-west in search of the Chaos monster, but a personal calling from the Storm Bull must take precedence.  He pulls his blanket around himself for warmth and holds his dagger axe loosely in his hands, maintaining his watch.

Norajia  croons a song as she unpacks her camping gear with an occasional glance off towards the Western mountains

Well my brother was big, and my brother was bold
And it was Pimper's Block where my brother was sold
For a barrel of beans and a thimble of gold
To a dame with no name that I ever was told

She was shifty and sly with a look in her eye
And she took him in hand as he waved us goodbye
It was plain that she came from beyond Hendrikei
From the cut of her dress and the strut of her thigh

We imagined he'd run 'fore the season was done
But the reason he stayed was a feasible one
She'd accumulate plate quick as foraging dung
From the taverns of Jansholm to the pubs of Dwarf Run

The I saw them one day at Orani's Mistake
And I started to say how he ought to escape
But he winked as she slinked and he laughed in my face
And it stinked to be linked to my brother's disgrace

Mabwe drops his pack to the floor, shakes and stretches before sitting back on his haunches "We are used to the darkness. I will watch during the darkest part of the night if someone will wake me."

The night goes by without incident (unless you heard otherwise from me).

Vorrik did see a bright red glow in the north during his watch, it came and went in the matter of a few minutes.

Mabwe seems even more quiet than normal, but if asked he just says "Just a bad dream. Nothing to do with our quest." He eats his portion of fodder to break his fast and tries to fill his time as the others see to their mounts by seeing if he can't firkle out anything useful around their campsite, but they have likely trampled any plants r useful signs.

Midday during the second day of travel out of Day's Rest, Lemak and Norajia are the first to hear a dreadful braying sound dead ahead.

Clearing a small mound in the plains, you see a glyptodon (SIZ ~ 40) rumbling in your direction. You can tell it is in distress.
There is something or someone riding on its back, that comes into better focus as the creature lopes closer. 

  

Mabwe moves to put himself in the path of the stricken beast ushering words to try to calm it. It's no herd-man, but it is a beast, so he tries the same calming tone he uses for them. "Hush now, let's stop and get that thing off of you."


As he moves he is knows how to try to get the thing, a giant tick by the looks of it, off of the poor creature by casting distraction on it.

Violence is always solves a lot of problems.  Lemak rides up, dagger axe in guard position, in case either the parasite or the glyptodon might attack.  Channeling his spirit, he focuses on disrupting the rider.

Norajia smiles at the reactions of two of her new friends.

Raising her arm she also focuses her spirit on the approaching duo. She tilts her head to one side extending her first and fourth fingers and makes and eerie buzzing-whistling sound, rocking her hand from the wrist.

Vorrik is busy trying to calm the damned zebra. Why can't these nomads allow a decent Templar to ride a decent horse? He is good enough with a lance to pop that creature right off the poor beast's back, but no way under the sun this striped jitterbox he is riding would make that possible.

He makes ready his smaller, one-handed spear, and is prepared to jump down and ground its butt, ready for a charge, if needed.

Mabwe's calming voice and posture puts the poor glyptodon into a more controllable state.
As it rumbles past him, his Distraction spell descends on the tick, which turns its attention to Mabwe and leaps at him!

<OOC: Distraction is such an interesting spell, puts a giant target on the caster>

The large mammal succumbs to Norajia's sleep spell and crumples to the ground. 

A small bulge appears beneath the tick's exoskeleton with a sickening crackling sound as Lemak's disruption spell takes effect. It writhes in pain but then moves forward to engage with Mabwe.

Lemak gets within reach of the tick.<

Vorrik dismounts and is in readiness with his spear.

You see a few more ticks coming into view...

Norajia's smile turns to a frown as she sees the other giant ticks approaching.

She redirects her arm trying to repeat her party trick on the nearest one, but in the stress of the moment she can't control her magic.

She directs her sable Modesty closer to the felled Glyptodont

The foul smell of the tick removes doubt.  "Chaos!" roars Lemak.  He slides off Lobber, gives it a quick push to move away, then advances on the Chaos creature, swinging his dagger-axe down to crack it open.
[OOC: Sorry, I forgot Lemak's speech colour was Coral in some recent posts.]
This message was last edited by the player at 01:54, Fri 21 Aug 2020.

Mabwe is prepared for the bite, knowing the thing will be concentrating on him. He tries to claw it and lashes out at any bite that comes his way.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:20, Fri 21 Aug 2020.

Tuari lowered his lance and charged Odina towards the leftmost tick his intention to spear the beast and then have the big bison trample over the top.

Ooc
20:12, Today: Tuari rolled 27 using 1d10+1+6d6. Lance Damage
20:08, Today: Tuari rolled 17 using 1d20.  Location.
20:08, Today: Tuari rolled 53 using 1d100.  Lance Attack 75%.

Lemak brings his dagger axe down onto the already disrupted giant tick. The savage weapon splits the foul creature nearly in half.


Mabwe goes into a defensive squat for the blow that never arrives, as Lemak's dagger axe smashes into the tick.

Tuari gallops his bison into the path of the northmost tick, bracing his lance and transmitting the power of Odina into the blow. The tick is unable to evade and is skewered to death, followed by its remains being trampled into the earth.

Thangar fires an arrow at the southmost tick (#6), but it keeps lumbering toward Vorrik, the arrow sticking from its carapace.

Tick 3 engages with Mabwe.
Tick 4 and 5 engage with Lemak.
Tick 6 engages with Vorrik. 

Mabwe stands his ground ready for the incoming tick, ready to parry the bite he expects that it will try and ready to dig his claws into the disgusting creature.

With a roar of victory, Lemak lifts the head of his weapon up into the air again, sticky with the tick's ichor.  A savage grin at Mabwe, then he turns to the oncoming ticks, ready to swing the dagger-axe outwards onto the top of the first to come within range.

Norajia moves behind Lemak and Mabwe ready to try to use her healing magic on whoever gets injured.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:01, Fri 21 Aug 2020.

Tuari reins Odina round to his right and lines up on on of the ticks attacking Lemak with a shout "Hiyip!"


OOC:
06:32, Today: Tuari rolled 32 using 2d10+2+6d6.  Special Lance Damage.
06:31, Today: Tuari rolled 3 using 1d20.  Hit Location.
06:22, Today: Tuari rolled 11 using 1d100.  Lance attack.

<OOC: Yay! Rpol.net is back! Couldn't get on before>


The remaining ticks attack. Lemak swings his dagger-axe at SR 5, it bounces off the turf next to the tick.Vorrik jabs his spear on SR 6 at tick 6. The vicious blow penetrates its exoskeleton and vile blood pours out, somehow it still clings to life.

<OOC: lots happening in SR 8>

Tuari reels about and makes another charge, closing in SR 1-5 and striking the foul chaos creature, killing it instantly. It is stuck about a third of the way up his lance and won't be easily removed. 

<OOC 10:27, Today: Gargle rolled 73 using 1d100.  tick 5 fumble roll.10:26, Today: Gargle rolled 79 using 1d100.  tick 6 on Vorrik.10:26, Today: Gargle rolled 100 using 1d100.  tick 5 on Lemak.10:26, Today: Gargle rolled 55 using 1d100.  tick 4 on Lemak. those are unlucky ticks>

The ticks lunge forward with their sickening mouthparts dripping with slime, but all fail to connect with their targets. 

Mabwe bashes tick 4 both during its failed attack and again with a savage uppercut, sending it tumbling where it lands dead on its back, 8 hairy legs quivering.


At the end of the round there are two ticks left. 

Shaking her head at the lack of success of her magic Norajia awaits the dispatch of the last couple of giant ticks.

<OOC looks like there were migrating to new servers https://rpol.net/display.cgi?gi=1&ti=51&date=1535621437>

By the way, one thing you notice about tick #5; it has been shimmering and confusing to look at, distorting the light around it.

Perhaps that contributed to Lemak failing to tag it yet with his dagger-axe.

Somehow during its failed attack, it has stopped shimmering although it still looks aggressive. 

Mabwe turns to assist with the tick next to Lemak, unless the Storm Bull follower sticks it with the axe before he can help, in which case he heads for the stricken glyptodon to check it over.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:12, Tue 25 Aug 2020.

If Norajia sees Mabwe moving to inspect the glyptodont then she will join him, and assess its injuries.

Tuari drops his lance and pulls out the heavy mace at his side as he pushes Odina to trample the nearedt tick before he can hit the furthest tick attacking Vorrick.

OOC
10:27, Today: Tuari rolled 6 using 1d20.  Mace hit location.
10:27, Today: Tuari rolled 10 using 1d8+2+1d6.  Mace damage.
10:26, Today: Tuari rolled 68 using 1d100.  Mace attack.
10:25, Today: Tuari rolled 20 using 1d20.  Hit location Trample.
10:25, Today: Tuari rolled 22 using 6d6.  Trample Damage.
10:25, Today: Tuari rolled 19 using 1d100.  Trample .

Lemak exhales in relief.  His swing down had left an opening, but luckily the tick had not seized the opportunity presented.  He swings again, but this time with a horizontal sweep, hoping to cleave the tick and swat it aside at the same time.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:25, Tue 25 Aug 2020.

SR  5 Lemak delivers a killing horizontal swipe into the cephalothorax of the tick, cracking it open.
Ichor gushes out of the wound.
Tuari's bison clomps over the remains grinding them into the turf.

SR 6 Vorrik thrusts at the remaining giant tick, which is badly ailing. His spear penetrates deeply enough into its shell to deliver the killing blow, and the final chaotic tick has been defeated.

Norajia and Mabwe inspect the magically anesthetized glyptodon.
Norajia's inspection reveals that the tick apparently did break the skin of the large shelled mammal but that it is not showing any signs of disease. It is crumpled on the ground in an awkward fashion.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:57, Tue 25 Aug 2020.

Norajia turns to hail the others "Beware of the ticks, they carry disease!" However she seems confident that the gylptodont is OK, despite it lying awkwardly. She looks at its dimensions and at Mabwe's and tries to put its head in a more comfortable position.

Mabwe concentrates on the area of the puncture mark trying t work out the best way t treat it but with little luck. Finally he says to Norajia "Can you see to its wound?"

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.