THE HEROES MEET

Gaigin stands amidst the crowd of people in the hall, absent-mindedly wiping the sweat from his brow with one and, his other clutching a twelve foot pole that rests on one shoulder, it's tip covered in a linen wrap. Heavily muscled and deeply tanned, standing an inch over 6 feet, he strikes an imposing figure in the sweltering heat. His head is bare save for a single ridge of black hair down its center, a loose fitting gray robe covers his frame. A pack and a canvas-wrapped bundle are strapped to his back, partially concealed by a broad, rust-red cloak. A hardwood club hangs from his broad leather belt, and a fat copper ring pierces his left ear lobe.

His eyes dart from face to face, judging and considering the group of people about him. Coming to a decision, he raises his hand in greetings.

"'Scuse my interuptin all yer thoughts, but I've got a propsition. I am Gaigin, formerly of the Merchant Guard of House Stel, and currently unemployed. I hope to change that, if these tight bastards put a decent wage in that "healthy purse" they were talking of back in the square. By your all being here, I assume you mean to do the same? Well, the way I sees it, none of us alone stands much chance of getting hired. If I had my way, I'd gather a group of Lads I knew in the Guard to make this trip, men I'd willingly turn my back to. Unfortunately, by the time I'd done found them, the job would've gone to some other bastard. That leaves one option, far as I can figure. Now you don't trust me, and I certainly don't trust any of you, but rather then none of us getting the job, we may as well go together. If we don't not a one of us'll get hired. They may hire the group of us, though, and a shared purse is better'n no purse at all..."

Gaigin pauses in his speech, waiting for someone to answer.

A small figure, which could be mistaken for a child at first glance remains still among the departing masses. Looking closer however, you note that Tak’Nak’Raq is no human child.

A halfling, one of the ‘forest cannibals’, or ‘ageless children’ as they are known here in Tyr stands before you, a contemplative look on his face. Slight in build, weighing less than sixty pounds you would estimate, and reaching only a few inches past three feet, he is not the sort to draw admirers for his physique.

His small wiry body is clad in rough studded leather armor on his legs and chest, and his exposed skin in criss-crossed and covered with tattoos, depicting strange shapes, colors and stylized pictures of animals and people. His hair is a long black mane, shaggy and bulky, hanging down behind his back to waist-level, out of proportion with his small frame. It is marked by a narrow white streak which starts at his forehead and serves to part his hair down the middle.

Carrying in his hand a short spear, a shortbow on his back, and two elaborately carved bone daggers, more artificial teeth than blades, hang from his belt. All that could possibly encumber him is a small sack, slung over his back. Tak’Nak’Raq is a hunter, and a traveler. He carries what he needs, and leaves all else by the wayside.

Tak’ watches those who remain in the crowd, giving them a gaze which somehow seems more than merely cursory. When Gaigin has finished speaking he raises his open palm to him, in a gesture of friendship, and then raises his voice.

"Honor to you family and clan Gaigin, you speak word as a wiseman," Tak’ inclines his head in respect.

"I have lived as the tall-folk do with the tribe of Tyr. I have seen, and I have learnt. I have no need for purses or shards of ceramic pottery that you tall-folk seem to be drawn to. But I will travel and discover for the tribe of Tyr. To help them feed their young, to help them trade with the birds that have no feathers"

Tak’ stamps his spear-butt into the ground, "I can travel, and I can hunt. I can guide any through the Crescent forests, to the lands Tyr seeks beyond. Gaigin I will travel with you as tribebrother if you will have me."

Tak'Nak'Raq's mention of hunting grabs Chit-Zik's attention immediately. The 7 or so foot tall Thri-Kreen heads right in amongst the pack that seems to be gathering. Taking no interest in anything Gaigin mentioned of money, he anxiously asks, "If I can hunt, I'll join. I can heal, too." He listens a bit more and tried to understand what exactly is going, having trouble with not-prey conversation.

Finally, he leans his thin exoskeleton forward and begins to talk, having little difficulty speaking even common when he discusses this subject matter. "You mean new hunting grounds? I've hunted like that once." His eyes, large black things, actually glaze over. "My pack went over a ridge in the stony barrens by jumping. Their were all sorts of prey there...

Baazrag, Cylops, Crodlu..." His words become forced. "Dune reaper..." He then becomes silent and watches the rest of the group.

Zik has two Gythka's strapped to his back, and four chatkcha's in various places on his leather strapping, which also carries a backpack. He wears a small stone carving of a root twisted in soil on a small string around his neck. He looks much like any other thri-kreen though, if a bit scrawny. He mostly looks back and forth among the group, seemingly nervous in unfamiliar surroundings.

The halfling jumps in and adds in excitement, "The hunt. Where the eternal dance of hunter and hunted, predator and prey is acted out in its beauty and simplicity. You too know the joy of working as one with tribebrothers and tribesisters, with all working towards the hunt, all risking for the whole?" Tak' looks anxious to hear the 'kreens answer, relieved that someone in Tyr has appreciation of a rite close to his heart and home.

"Where we go, we face Sloth, Spider, Kirre. You helpful hunting other bugs." Tak' says with a smile. "We shall hunt together, and become thereby kinsmen Chit-Zik."

The kreen is not slow to answer, "Yes. You, too know how it feels to smell your prey, and to know it as it knows itself, it seems. The hunt is the greatest moment of existance, when all you have and all you are decides between the life and death of you and your prey. Yes, I know it well. I look forward to hunting with you." The Kreen looks the halfling over. "Your people and mine seem to have more in common then anythIng could have guessed."

Standing along with the others is a large well muscled human male, a confidence radiating from an almost arrogant posture that betrays his noble ancestry and warrior skills. He has short, well groomed dark brown hair with lighter brownish red highlights underneath. His eyes are a pale blue, and he is well tanned with smooth skin bearing very few scars.

His frame is wrapped in a light brown cloak that shows little in the way of wear as a dusty wind stirs up around him, partially covering his impressive physique. Under his cloak he wears a pair of dark brownish red leather breeches that fit tightly to him, and also a blood red tunic that hangs well. His feet are covered by a pair of soft leather boots, and a bone bastard sword hangs in an elaborate scabbard at his side.

He turns his large smile upon Gaigin, his hands upon his hips "I am Koreth. I agree that we have a much better chance as a group and I do admit that I would like to share in that purse. I am a skilled warrior with bastard sword, spear, shield and wrist razors. I have spent the last two years living at an outpost of House Harek, where I learned not only to survive and find my way in the desert, but to bargain and to speak the tongue of the dwarven people."

His gaze sweeps across those assembled, catching their features with his piercing gaze. He smiles, his noble manners serving him well as he catches your eye. "I will take up this journey with all of you, if you wish to make use of my skill." Koreth assures you, almost certain that the offer will not go unaccepted. His gaze returns to Gaigin and the nameless forest cannibal who had already stepped forward, his eyes seeming to judge him.

Tak' adds, "Honor to your clan Koreth. Your bearing indicates one who stands tall." Tak' inclines his head, in as much the same fashion he ackowledged Gaigin.

Koreth bows politely. "I shall enjoy traveling with you friend," he says, a smile upon his lips and a friendly tone to his voice.

The halfling meets Koreths judgmental gaze with one of a similar nature. Nobleman and Tribal warrior, for a moment their gaze locks, then Tak' breaks off, looking as if he suddenly remembered something.

Speaking with some hesitation, the small warrior begins, "My customs are not yours, and whilst a name is a precious thing, not to be given lightly, you have trusted me with yours."

"I am Tak'Nak'Raq!" he says, his chin high and defiant, stating what is more a ritual than greeting. "The 23rd son of Gre'Nak, and the first of Hich'Nak Fru'Ka . As I stand here before you, so does the entire clan of 'Rak." Tak' kneels on the ground, but keeps his eyes forward.

Koreth stands impassively through the naming ritual, watching it but at the same time watching the other people assembled. Who would be next to step forward to join this strange group? He waits....

After a while, the halfling stands, and finishes the ages old Halfling naming ritual, "Names are shared, Koreth, Gaigin and Chit-Zik; and as so we also share our burdens. Honor to your clans."

Gaigin turns to look at Tak, Koreth, and Chit-Zik each in turn, considering. At last he sighs, "Aye, I suppose we'll do for a start, though I could wish we had one with us proficient in The Way. Gith's Blood! Where we're going, I'd even take along a witch! Still, we won't lack for food for a start..."

The halfling warriors states, "One who hunts with only a bow, will find himself prey up close. One who hunts with only a spear, will miss many an opportunity to eat. Within the hunts of ‘Nak, I am both a hunter of the mind as well as the body."

Smiling mainly to himself, remembering lessons learned, "I have studied with the village wiseman, and have control over my will."

Gaigin nods in satisfaction and glances at both the Halfling and Thri-kreen "I'd like to make clear afore we start that I'll not eat anything that talks, I know a few habits common to your people. But if you can curb your hunting to animals, we'll be set."

Chit-Zik replies to Gaigin's comment about his diet in the most simple manner he can. "We don't either."

The halfling is prompt to answer, "I know of your customs. If it can be helped, he will feast only on the prey of the wilderness, and not the two-legs."

Gaigin peers at Koreth. "You, lad. You look a right Nobleman if e'er I seen one. I have no problems with the Nobles, as long as you work like the rest of us you'll be an asset. Assuming, of course, you can really use that Great Knife you've got strapped t'yer back there..." Gaigin gestures at the Bastard Sword.

Koreth's face twitches slightly in annoyance as Gaigin questions his skills, "Trust me friend," Koreth's face breaks into a wicked grin "I will do my part in this journey."

Gaigin goes back to idly scratching his beard, glancing about. "I suggest we wait a while, see if anyone more shows up...we're set with guides and hunters and desert travelers, but we've no one to actually write the bloody map. I can read and write, and no how to follow a map, but I'd rather someone better then I did the drawing of it. I say we wait a while longer." Gaigin pauses a moment before turning to the Halfling and Thri-Kreen "By the by, and no offence meant here, but we're the two of you serious about not wanting a share of the purse? Just wondering, mind...you're still entitled if you wish."

Tak' replies, "I should ask yourself a similar question: Are you sure you will work for coin, and not something greater? You place yourself in servitude, an act of dependency paralleled only by outright slaver." Sighing to himself, trying to come to grips with new ways, Tak’ continues, "No, I will not take any of the coin. I would however like to see the streetchildren I have been staying with fed. That is all I ask of Tyr."

The kreen answers Gaigin, "What would I need a share of the purse for? I come to hunt." The mantis warrior spends most of his time simply watching the others, trying to understand how they function and relating that to his own culture.

Gaigin shrugs. "Well, We can always give your share to those children you speak of. Chit-Zik's as well, if he doesn't want it. I don't like taking a share of money that should go to someone else is all, so you take yours and give it away or whatever you wish. I wouldn't give it to the Templars to dole out, the lot of it'll likely as not wind up in their own pockets. As for placing myself in servitude...well, as you say, that's a step up from being a slave, which means it's a step up for me. I'll work for a greater purpose when I find a purpose greater then my own survival. It seems we have little in common, friend. Still, shouldn't stop us from working well together."

A tall heavily built half-elf steps forward into the group. His dark tan cloak stirs slightly in the light breeze. He wears a light tan tunic with slightly darker breeches and knee high boots. He wears his clothing and equipment in the style of the desert nomads. He has shoulder length black hair which is pulled back neatly by a rune carved headband, revealing his upswept ears. His piercing green eyes scan the area as you watch him. You see the hilts of two thin short swords at his waist and the end off a long bow over his right shoulder. Numerous pouches are arrayed around his waist and across his chest. "Greetings to you all", glancing at Gaigin "I have been watching you here. It seems you have the beginnings here of a good group. Though I am fresh outta witches, if you’ll take a warlock then I’m would gladly take on with you and yours."

The half-elf steps back into an easy, well-balanced stance. "I am Elric Silvermoon, I have traveled most recently with the nomads of the desert. I give you my name though no power over me save what I give in companionship. I can wield these swords or spell if need be to accomplish our goal. Above these things which will of no doubt be a benefit, I can draw the map." Elric gives a grin, then chuckles. "Oh and I will be needing a share of the purse."

Gaigin turns to the Warlock: "Pleased to have 'ya along. If you can write the map then that's a load off my mind."

Gaigin wipes the sweat from his brow, and sighs. "Well, seems we're almost set. We have a map maker and spell caster, a couple hunters, one who can heal, and one who knows the Way, and we have a couple of experienced Desert travelers who can fight well enough to deal with most threats. I think we should wait a while longer, then make our "Grand Entrance," so to speak."

Gaigin pulls out his large water skin, popping it open and taking a long sip. He then passes it along to anyone who's thirsty. Gaigin turns to Koreth, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. He proceeds to ask him something, in fluent Dwarven.

A tall and thin half-elf draped in a heavy cerulean cloak stands in the background, watching the crowd intently. His blue eyes catch the gathering throng of Tyrian beggars all hoping to make a quick ceramic bit. Those same sad teary sapphires stare unmovingly as the templar reads the wishes of the council; and they continue their unmoving gaze without a single blink as the crowd dissipates and a new group forms in their place. A small halfling, a muscular human, a tall thri-kreen, a nobleman, and a nomad half-elf, all standing there discussing with each other. Their faces lit with smiles, their hearts happy at the meeting of new companions.

Aryus does not share their bliss. Two months have not healed the wounds of a lost friend to the savages of the Athasian society. For those two long months, his sad heart has acted like a heavy anchor to the free spirit of a wind mage.

A light breeze sails across the Tyrian streets. Aryus' cloak, catches the message of his patron element and dance in the air in response. His dark blond hair also catches the breeze, their long strands fling about madly. Aryus closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. All things must be put aside for now. He must seek a time of wandering and solitude. He must travel to the highest peaks of Athas and seek a divine truth from the spirits of wind. He must...

A laughter from the group before him draws the half-elf back to reality. Companionship. What an interesting thought. All his life, Aryus has only known solitude. He has only ever spoken to two other beings, one of them far to the north in his childhood home, the other...dead.

Taking an uneasy step forward towards the group, Aryus is unsure of how to present himself. When the confidence finally returns to him, he walks up to the group and takes a close inspection at its diverse members. They in turn fix their eyes on him, a stranger and newcomer.

"My name is Aryus." He introduces himself, unsure of complicated social etiquette. His tone is like the eye of a Tyr storm, calm and smooth. Perhaps with the power to tame the wildest wind, if he had only spoken more.

Tak’ solemnly waits while Aryus delivers his name, giving full respect the half-elf, as he has done so for all party member before him. Tak’ inclines his head and delivers his response; "Your calling suits you Aryus, both lofty, of this world and with enormous potential. Honour to your clan."

"I overhead, your conversation. Apparently you wish to head west to the Ringing Mountains?" Aryus pause for a long moment before continuing, "I can be a guide to you. I will bless you with the most favorable winds so that your journey maybe a smooth one."

Looking at Tak' and Chit-Zik, he offers a weak smile. "I may also blow the scent of sweet prey to your hungry nostrils."

Tak’ smiles and chuckles, his teeth glinting in the light of day, "A boon your joining us is, Aryus. For the wind can be cruel and unforgiving within the mountains, and a changing in breeze direction can spoil a hunt."

Returning his eyes to the rest of the group, "I don't ask for wealth, only your protection so that I may reach the high peaks of the Ringing Mountains.In return you have my services and my gratitude...and the favor of the winds."

Tak’ eyes Aryus intently, then speaks slowly, as if unsure if his word need voicing, "The Ringing Mountains are a harsh place to travel to, not only does Gia lash the unprepared with her forces of wind, rain and snow, but the predators are many. If your need is great, and is for a cause greater than the self I would be happy to guide along the halfing trails. They do not travel to the top, but make at least the early part of the journey easier." Tak’ turns both his empty palms upward, and awaits Aryus’ response.

The halfling then addresses the group, "For a group to travel far, numbers are not an asset. We possess among us talent enough to both survive and prosper in the wilderness." Inclining his head to Gaigin he continues, "Gaigin, as our founder and present chief, will you present us to the wisemen of Tyr, for their blessing of our journey?"

Gaigin responds , "Aye, we should go soon. Glad to have you along, Aryas. I've crossed this land many times in the last eight years, but I've never been up the paths through the mountains, and any help would be welcome."

Elric scan the group, nodding his head slightly, "Now this is a fine group of diversity. We shall do well in any journey we set our minds too. It will be a pleasure to gain honor in the company of such as you."

Turning to face Gaigin, Elric bow shortly from the waist "I accept you as our leader as it seems you have of natural inclination stepped into that position until such time we disband or, and no offense, you prove unworthy."

The kreen breaks his silence and adds, "The pack is formed, a leader is chosen, I agree with Elric. We should get going. First pack to arrive gets the best hunting."

Gaigin cracks his knuckles loudly and straps his water skin across his back again.

"Though I'd hardly call the Templars here 'Wisemen.' I know a thing or two about Templars, luckily, and if Koreth can bargain for us we should be able to avoid being cheated. Well then Tak, Chit-Zik, Koreth, Elric, and Aryas...lets get started."

Almost as an after thought, Gaigin reaches up and pulls the cover from the tip of his pole, revealing a long, serrated bone spear head. Below the head, a sharp hook protrudes at an angle. Gaigin examines the spear head, nods, and props the 12 foot spear up against his shoulder.

"Can't have the Templars thinking they're hiring some clueless ErdluHerder." he mutters softly.

With a grin, Gaigin heads off towards where the Templar is hiring...walking with a long, purposeful stride.

Elric unsheathes both his bone short swords, examining each he replaces them. He then squeezes a number of his many pouches to insure their fullness. Pulling his cloak back in place he looks towards the rest of the group, "It seems I'm ready, lets see what those Templars means by heavy purse." With that he follows Gaigin towards the Templar area.

Koreth interrupts before his new companions leave, "I have to make a few brief preparations before I leave Tyr. I will meet up with all of you before we bargain with the templars." He glances about, making sure there are no objections.

Tak responds, "Whilst preparing tools and method are essential to a successful hunt, there is haste needed now. For this venture the Tyrian wisemen want us to undertake requires us to act quickly, to secure their blessing. While as master of you own destiny you control where you tread, it may be for the betterment of the group to stay together until these details are sorted out."

Looking round at his companions' gear, Tak' continues with a frown, "Certainly it appears as though many of us will need to take some time to prepare for our long journey. Crossing the sandy wastes, the Ringing Mountains, the Crescent Forests and Gia knows what after that is not for those of weak character."

Koreth rethinks his action and silently agrees with the wise halfling; he will have plenty of time to pick up the rest of his gear. Koreth heads over with the rest of the group.

AFTER THE TEMPLAR

The sun was almost at its high point when the companions make a move towards the templars. Your thirst is temporarily quenched as you take a long sip from the water skin offered to you by Gaigin; most of you have started to sweat freely under your clothes. Everyone was so busy with their new acquaintances that you had forgotten to keep an eye on the half-elf templar. You walk in the general direction of where the half-elf templar was last seen and soon spot the two half-giant guards sticking out from the crowd. The whelps and poor leave the templar alone as soon as it is clear to them that no bits are to be gained; not before a couple are knocked unconscious by the guards. One of the guards seems to enjoy applying unnecessary violence in his work; his latest victim was an old man sprawled on the floor with blood dripping from his nose.

You speed up your pace and catch up to the templar when he is about to get into his chariot drawn by two black kanks. The large insects jitter nervously when they hear the guards come. One of the brutes takes up a spear from the cart and prods the kank under its shell, "No, don't ye be jittering at me, ye dumb bug. I be needing a new set of armor if ye know what me means." The other guards laughs mercylessly as he jumps out the kank's way when the insect tries to bite him. Both kanks are visibly apprehensive as their antennas flail about madly; their eyesight is somewhat hindered by a cover on the side of their eyes allowing them to only look ahead. The kank settle down as it realizes that the half-giant is out of reach of his mandibles, a high pitched wailing is issued from its mouth. The half.elf templar screams at the guards, "Stop that, you can't have your fun with them, not now!"

Gaigin steps up to the half-elf templar and states, "We are interested in your prop'stion, my friends and I. What do we do to get started?"

The templar gets up in his cart while the two half-giant flank him. He looks all of you over from his viewpoint and smirks. "No, I don't think so. Are you deaf or just plain stupid? I said present yourselves to the Council of Advisers. Do I look like like a council to you? Does this look like the council hall?" The two half-giant laugh half-heartedly when they see that they are outnumbered and you don't look like whelps or street-beggars. Still, the brutes grasp their huge stone clubs tighter, corded muscle standing out in their thick forearms. The tension could be felt all around and the silent seemed to invite violence; the injured kank let out its long wailing again breaking the absolute quiet.

Before anyone can answer, a templar with his two guards come over drawn by the group of people surrounding the kank drawn chariot. The dwarven templar, short sword in hand, contrasts greatly with his two very tall companions. He greets the half-elf and adds, "Having trouble with the foreigners, are you?" The half-elf answers, "Hardly any, get ye up here and we'll go to the palace." The half-elf templar addresses Gaigin once again, "I wouldn't even bother with the job, I have already recommended a group to the High Templar in the Council who will do the hiring and they were very generous with their money."

He motions for his half-giant guard who smacks the kanks to take off. The two templars are surrounded by 4 half-giant guards besides the charriot as the kanks start to pull the chariot over, leather harnesses creaking and a trail of dust is left by the bone wheels.

The sun is more than stinging at this time of the day when you see the dwarven templar stop the chariot a few feet ahead. He looks over to Koreth and his gaze lingers on his engraved scabbard. He yells out to him, "You there lad, you look the civilized of the lot." He sneers at the halfling and the kreen. "You know how we work here and you will need a recommendation to go up to the council hall, if you make it worth my while maybe we can strike a deal…"

Your actions.

OOC: GENERAL INFO

Both Gaigin and Koreth know their way around the city.

You are about 2 miles from the Council Hall.

You may walk through the poor part of the city or the merchant's quarter to get there.

You are in the Shadow Square which is in the central west part of the city, the council is on the South side and Koreth's estate is in the north part outside of the city.