The elf looks a bit embarrassed, "hmm... I'm sorry, I didn't want to ill speak of your human parents. I've had a lot of contact with humans since, well, since. I know some of us are as nice as one can be, and I owe my life to a human merchant of Tyr, a former competitor of my parents who helped me after... (sadness once more). No need to brood, tell me more about you!"

I was not raised in an Elf Tribe. My mother left her tribe long before I was born to travel with Rathimon’s Troupe of Entertainers. My mother, Althea Silvermon, was a great Illusionist. She traveled with Rathimon’s Troupe and used her illusions to heighten the effect of many of their acts. I know little about my father. He left the Troupe to seek his fortune else were shortly before or after I was born, depending on whom in the Troupe you asked. My mother didn’t speak on the subject. Whenever I did ask her, she quickly found lessons for me to learn or chores for me to do. From the little I heard from others I found that he was a juggler named Ruthar.

Life in the Troupe was very much like what I would imagine tribe life to be like, only not as strict. For the most part you were responsible for yourself alone. No one really bothered with how I got along, except my
mother. However how you acted was your choice as long as it didn’t injure the Troupe. I worked to learn my mother’s trade and aid in the Troupe’s activities. I didn’t really care for the long hours she had me spend studying the intricate nature of an illusion. Often I would leave the camp where she couldn’t find me and run in the desert. Now that I have learned a bit more I realize I should have taken more time with my studies. Recently I have learned to cast an illusion of a Roc, with shrieks and everything. I am still having a few problems getting it exactly the way I want it. I know that if I had been more diligent in my studies with mother it would come easier for me now. Such is the clarity of hind sight.

I left the Troupe when I was old enough to make my own decisions. I enjoyed the Troupe but could not live in my mother’s shadow. One day I will return to find her. I joined up with some nomads and lived for awhile with them in the desert. Their ways were to my liking. We did things that needed to be done and enjoyed life for it’s simple pleasures. When we traveled to Tyr I stayed. Never before have I seen a city its equal. That is where I met with this company.

With all my history in mind I hope you will forgive my outburst after the dealings with the Tarek. I understand why you would call my combat prowess as anarchy; I am new to it. My first real battle was only a few weeks past in Tyr. When it comes to combat I see where I may be of use and I attack. Also I think we have a different idea as to the role of a leader. To me a leader is one who gives direction, not orders. I hope with more understanding we can continue on as friends.

Rayne choked down her rations, deciding that a hunt is in need for some real nourishment. She seeks out Tak to tell him she would like to join in the hunt with him and Chit if she is needed. Next the Mul seeks out Elric. "Well warlock it would seem we are in need o' some mending. Bear with me a moment and I will see what I can do about that arm o' yers." Taking a seat beside the half-elf Rayne conjures up a vision of Marteu. (using Cell adjustment)

MINDSCAPE

Two ghostly silhouettes stand in the grey nothingness of the mindscape. As they take form Rayne seems to be a mere child and the other is an older looking human. Marteu gives her a look and begins to scold her - "be more careful my little one, look what you've gotten yourself into this time." Shaking his head he gives her a wink and the kindness in his shadowy eyes seems to shine bright to Rayne. The mist about the figures takes on the shape of a warm room with a firepit, blankets and some pillows. A pile of travelling gear is lays haphazardly in the corner. Marteu stitches up Rayne's side and begins to clean her shoulder wound - preparing it to be mended as well. "Wait Marteu, there is another who needs yer care as much as I. This will do fer now." Marteu stops his mending "As you wish little one. I am here when you need me" this is barely audible as the figures melt away.

Opening her eyes, Rayne realises she is smiling. Her side feeling better and her shoulder fairing well in the bandages, she turns her attention to the warlock who is waiting patiently. Touching Elric's wounds gently . . .

MINDSCAPE

The image forms in Rayne's mind again, but this time the old man and the mul child are joined by a half-elf. "tsk, tsk he is as careless as you little one." Marteu states with a smile and begins to mend Elric. Elric look about as Marteu works carefully and quietly. Suddenly Marteu stops. "That is all I can do for now little one. You must rest. I will see you again . . . " With this the figures fade away and Rayne opens her eyes again.

Looking tired Rayne addresses the warlock "That is all I have fer now good Elric. I must rest now until my watch." Not giving him time for a response, she moves closer to the fire to settle down. Finding a good stump to lean against, the mul lays back, stares up at the darkening sky and wraps her tattered cloak about her for warmth against the cooling evening air.

ON TACTICS

Using his spear, Tak’ starts to draw some crude shapes in the ground, a seeming random series of eight circles, "this is how we have make war in the past – and our individual strength has served us well."

Tak’ looks around the group, "We would all do well to know of where each of us has fitted in previous warparties. I am a warrior of the body and the mind. I have brought down prey with my bow, my Will and my spear and daggers. I can be as silent as a Tigone and strike where needed."

Tak’ scuffs over the rough plan with his foot, smoothes over the earth and starts drawing again. This time his design features a small unit of six circles with another two placed out to he right and left forward flanks. "This is a tactic that the halflings often use – especially when the warparty is small, and many are able to strike from range, please note the similarities with our own party," Tak’ adds.

"Those in the pack best suited to combat face to face stand ahead, spaced apart to allow those behind to strike with the bow and the mind. When the enemy closes, those up front intercept, and those behind send
reinforcements when needed. While this is remarkably simple, it has proved very flexible, and works exceptionally well against simple animals – or those not versed in halfling tactics."

The party was tired after another day of travel, but once the cooking was finished, the party still had some things to discuss. Tak was the first to talk, the small warrior describing the ways of his tribal fellows. Because he was no warrior, Mendi said little. He listened to the young halfling with approval, since he had often followed orders from caravan captains and knew that Tak's advice was sound.

'That is very intersting for combat purpose, my friend', the elf interjected, 'but you do not optimize our group's strength with such a disposition of our party. When we march, we should have at least one, and probably two for the better, advanced scouts. You and I are quite adept at furtive maneuvers, and I think we should use that. If we meet any more hostile beings, we should either be able to alert the party in time or to harrass them before Koreth and Rayne meet the bunch of a hostile party. The two last fights could have been better handled with an advanced scout!'

Tak’ nods to Rayne and Koreth, "I would place you two ahead, leaving the remainder of us to use our missile fire or mind attacks before the battle is joined. You need not fear facing a horde by yourself – your only requirement is to stop the first charge for a moment from breaking through to those behind you."

Rayne watches with interest. <the halfling has impressive tactics, but all talents should be used> "I am taught in the way - as Elric knows from me healing. Fighting is what I do mostly, but I wish to strengthen me other talents some. The one who taught me of the way parted company with me many years ago. You are strong in the way Tak and I wish to become a pupil if ye'll teach me."

The halfling continues, "When the enemy closes, Elric, Chit-Zik and myself are capable warriors – we will join Rayne and Koreth if needed. Chit-Zik and myself have fought and hunted well together in the past, and Elric would only add to our ability."

Tak’ turns to the remaining three members of the group, "Mendi, Ptellac and Aryus, while you are certainly brave – your talents are much better utilised when the hot breath of the enemy is upon us – you should strike and aid as you see fit from the rear."

Mendi appears thoughtful, but says nothing. <"I am a better swordsman than he thinks, Mendi *thought*. No need to highlight the fact, however. I'd stick to protect Aryus and the pterran, and help Elric escape alive if possible."> "If I understand you well, you intend to flank foes with Elric's help, with the thri-kreen joining the fray once he has used his wedges... why doesn't he make or buy some more, by the way ? Couldn't you help him shape some with some wood and stone. You also forgot to speak about the use of the Way, my friend. I've seen your skill in the battles... and Aryus's lighting was impressive enough."

"Chit-Zik spoke words of wisdom earlier when he said we should word in smaller units, to better utilize each others strengths and weaknesses. The plan I have sketched above allows for this well – the three layers of the plan have neat compositions. With practice with one another we will function together as if we had truly grown up together – instead of hundreds of leagues apart."

"This is definitely the sort of thing that this group needs," Koreth says, grinning at what Tak has scrawled in the dirt "I suggest drilling nights at camp, perhaps before dinner is prepared. Perhaps mornings would work better...." He looks at his companions, <Reminds me of my days with Crel.... I used to drill every morning, over and over. I hated it, but now I know his reasons....>

Then Tak’ will take Elric and Chit-Zik on some basic drills, getting each other used to the fighting styles of each other. Several basic joint tactics will be sounded out as well. Before Tak’ begins his tale he uses Cell Adjustment to heal Koreth and Chit.

CAMPFIRE TALE

The halfling waits until the fire burns low, and only a shallow pit of embers are left. The hot coals glow angry in the darkness, leaving a dim half-light where shadows and shapes are intermingled – where things
appear both real and not.

Suddenly, Tak’ stands up, grasping his runed spear in his right hand. His small knuckles are white with the tightness of his grip; his voice also betrays his emotion. In a high voice, almost sing-song like Tak’
calls out into the darkness; "To ‘Nak! To ‘Raq! To Children of the Green! To Gaea! Hear this tale and know it is true! Hear this tale and know it is that of Tak’Nak’Raq!"

Rayne reacts quickly to the noise reaching for her weapons, but calms quickly as she realises it is only the halfling who woke her from her slumber by the fire. She listens intently as the little hunter tells his tale.

Mendi watched Tak with curiosity obvious in his eyes.

His dedication trails off into a ululating cry – echoing in the darkness. Tak’ swirls around on the balls of his feet, his long hair whipping wildly, his cry unwavering. Then, as dramatically as it had started, Tak’ stopped. Thrusting his spear into the earth and seating himself Tak’ spoke again – this time not to his ancestors, to Gaea or to his people - Tak’ spoke to his companions.

"Telling a tale among the halflings is not merely repetition of words and ideas," Tak’ explains, "it is ritual and performance; at once both ceremony and entertainment. It sees both our culture preserved, and
enlightened. What I tell you now is the lifestory of Tak’Nak’Raq – what I spoke to my village before leaving to travel Athas. This telling will explain why I now walk with Gaigins pack, and not under the leafy boughs of my homelands."

"Let it begin." Tak’ holds his hands out, palms down, "I came into this world not as Tak’Nak’Raq." With this Tak’ moves his hands in a broad circle, "but as one in an ancient line, and one in an all-encompassing
community."

"I am 23rd Son of Gre’Nak, the founder of the village ‘Nak. I am son of chiefs Fre’Nak and Gee’Nak. I am of clan ‘Raq. I am halfling, one of the children of the Green. Nothing separates from each other, or from
the Green. I am one with all this – one known as Tak’Nak’Raq."

"The village ‘Nak is proud, but not prosperous. Gith from the Stone Razor mountain clan make regular forays into our lands, and Sloth are too common. Yet ‘Nak survives, and for this we are proud." Tak’ draws breath, to allow his voice to carry strongly into the night, and then continues, "I was raised communally, growing up with the other children of the village. I hunted for the village, bringing it food to eat, and safety from predators. Some taught of history and the Way, all the village were their students. Still others weaved, planted, healed, and tended Gaea’s needs. All gave time, blood and effort for the common good."

"Yet our devotion alone was not enough, for Fre’Nak and Gee’Nak fell in a raid by the Stone Razor Gith, and our common focus was lost." Reciting lines as if from a funeral chant Tak’ speaks of his parents death, "I lost those who birthed me, but ‘Nak lost its vision, and the children of the Green lost two parts of the whole."

Shared pain was visible in the elf's eyes. <"We are few and yet most of us have already lost some of the people they held most dear... Tak has lost parents and guidance, I have lost parents and innocence, Koreth has lost friends and peace... "> thought the elf, who cast a covered glance in the noble's direction...

"Leadership among the halflings is usually transferred with tradition and ceremony – but this event left no clear heir apparent. The wisdom to guide for the good of village, clan, race and Gaea is great indeed – and the sons and daughters of Fre’ and Gee’ were few and inexperienced – I one of only three. There was no bickering, only a void. ‘Nak was beginning to founder, so it was decided by the elders to bend tradition and let Gaea provide the needed wisdom."

<I thought you had 22 brothers and sisters, Tak... were they all killed by the Gith?"> Mendi thought.

"Myself, sister Yet’Nak’Raq and brother Che’Nak’Raq were required to undertake a chiefly sojourn – to journey into the outside world – to learn and to grow. When one of us had grown enough, we were to return to ‘Nak and lead. To return prematurely would be to invite disaster; a curse from Gaea and a break in personal honor."

Tak’ concludes the formal part of his story, standing and pulling his spear out of the ground - conducting another ululating cry, this one deep and short. As the final cry dies, replaced by the sounds of the forest nightlife, Tak’ lets out his pent-up breath, a signal of the obvious stress and emotion of his telling.

Tak’ lets out a tired smile, "so I traveled across the Ringing Mountains, to learn. I will serve Gaea as I can, to let hope and knowledge grow within me." Tak rubs his tired eyes with one of his hands, an uncharacteristic break of composure for the usually stoic halfling.

His brow is furrowed at the thought of the duty required of him, the pressure that he awoke everyday to face, "then I shall return to ‘Nak – to do what I must. To bring my village out of danger and into prosperity once more."

Koreth gives Tak a broad smile before he rises from his seat next to the camp fire, "Who shall take the next turn to tell a tale of their past?" He looks at his companions, his cloak stirring about him in the night breeze.

"Who leads your village if the three of you are abroad, Tak? And... well, most halfling I've heard of... you certainly know those weird tales...", the elf waited for an answer.

Expedition Day 8 - Year of the Desert's Fury of the 190th King's Age (Free Year 11)

Forest Trail - Western edge of the Forest Ridge

HUNTING

The sun had not yet risen, but Tak’ was awake, letting the sounds of the jungle at before dusk flow into him. With a deep breath, smelling the damp, rich earth and the faint intermingled scents of a thousand flowers, Tak’ sighed. Soon he would be leaving his forest for a while, and he would experience this again for quite some time.

Finding Chit-Zik pacing around the campsite in barely contained expectation, Tak’ whistled and the Thri-Kreen fell in behind. Tak’ gave Rayne a friendly kick in the ribs, to wake her up. The mul, after seeing Tak’s smile stretched, grabbed her sword and the three strange companions vanished into the undergrowth, seeking sustenance for their companions.

The sounds woke up Mendi, who stood and collected some waterskins. "I'll fetch some water. Perhaps I should come with you on the first part of the hunt. I'm a decent archer, after all."

The forest was busy, but Tak’, again acclimatized again to the sounds filtered out what did not warrant further notice. Many of the creatures scuttling around them were edible, but they were only a mouthful, and difficult to pin down. Noting tracks of a larger, and more promising quarry, Tak’ smiled and indicated to Rayne Chit-Zik the low, curving indentation of a forest constrictors tracks.

"Not very dangerous - to us," Tak’ whispers, his mind at work on how to find this serpent, "still, keep quiet, and when we hunt - do not let its coils grasp you."

The halfling, the ‘kreen and the mul slowly made their way through the forest, occasionally losing the tracks for a while, but after doubling back and persistent searching were able to recover the trail of their quarry.

Quietly rounding a large tree, the two hunters caught sight of their prey - a 20-foot long snake, edging its way towards its daytime lair, a mighty rotting log. There it would be safe from predators - both two-legged and otherwise - until it ventured out at nightfall once again.

"We must hunt now!" Tak' whispers forcefully, dropping his bow and drawing two bone daggers.

Chit instinctively bows low for cover and slips off to the right. Tak begins to circle left in a silent rush toward the serpent. <guess that leave the more direct approach fer me> Rayne smirks to herself and prepares to fight this creature she has never seen before. <don't let it coils grab ye . . . okay where are these coils he speaks of . . .> as the mul looks her prey over the 'kreen jumps from the bush and lands directly in front of the snake before it can reach the safety of the lair. The surprised serpent recoils it's head back then readies itself for a strike as the halfling bursts form the bushes and jumps onto the creature's back, both daggers sinking deeply into each side of the snake's neck before it can strike out a the attacking 'kreen. Two bolts follow Rayne as she bursts forth from the bush bringing her sword down on the beast's tail, severing it cleanly. One arrow sails high but the other strikes the beast through the head. The creature falls dead into the waiting arms of the 'kreen who's mandibles seem to open in what could be considered a smile. As Mendi comes out of the bushes carrying the filled waterskins, Rayne gives him a playful grin "What a way to start the day don't ye think? Nice shooting Elf, but watch me head in the future - I felt a breeze, I belive, and that's too close fer me comfert."

The elf's cristaline laughter answered the Mul gentle irony. "Tak, this country is a marvel, I found water in no time ! I understand your love of those forest... but, said the elf, who was sweating, a rare thing indeed, I
must say this place is moist !"

"You didn't tell us you were coming', said Tak, more than a little surprised to have been followed unnoticed.

"Well, you should know that the game and the water are often close to each other... I followed you because you were tracking game trails, and game trails often lead to water ! Don't you think you could find some herbs or fruits to make the meal more tasty? I've heard that most snakes are insipid, aren't they?"

"I think I'll follow you on your hunts, if you don't mind. There is something in the hunt... a kind of expectation that you never feel when fighting... it seems worth the try!" With those words, the elf went to collect its quarrels. He recovered the first who had landed on a soft spot on the floor of the forest, while the lucky strike in the serpent's head had broken the bonetip of the second quarrel. "I'd rather not run low on quarrels, even if I haven't lost so many of them so far... does anybody know how to make some? With all this wood around us, it would be a shame if we don't make some spare arrows and quarrels before we cross the desert!"

THE RETURN OF HIGH TEMPLAR GAIGIN?

A powerful, haggard howl breaks through the dawn-lit forest, sending flocks of birds fluttering out of their tree-top perches. Through a thicket and around the bole of a giant tree, the bedraggled source of the howl is found. A bipedal figure, covered from head to toe in mingled muck and blood, some old and dried a deep brown, some bright red and freely flowing from numerous unseen sores. Upon closer inspection, the tattered remnants of armor can be made out through the layer of grime. Rent and torn, totally absent in places, baring portions of dark-tanned skin, reddened by foul sores and deep scratches, only some of which are healed. A strong, rank odor, of blood and sweat and something else exudes from the figure. The face seems beastly, with bright colors and flaring swirls scuffed and covered partially in the grime that seems to make up most of this creature.

The pitiable figure leans, half-conscious against the bole of the great tree, screaming between clenched teeth, scratching itself with such voracity that it seems to be trying to flay it's own skin from it's flesh. The thing seems wholly bestial, wholly horrible...except for the eyes, which seem bright and clear and intelligent, though red-shot with mania. Suddenly, the thing raises its head, peering at the people watching it with those stark eyes, deep set in the horrid, bestial face. Suddenly, the creature stops it's frantic scratching and straightens. Slowly, painfully, it comes to stand erect, it's shoulders, large and obviously powerful, even in this weakened state, are thrown back. The beast stands at rigid attention, one hand reaches down slowly and grasps at nothing, as if holding the hilt of a non-existent sword. The other reaches up and grabs the terrifying face, and lifts it off, making a cracking sound as what can now be made out as a wooden mask is lifted free of a dried layer of dirt and congealed blood.

A human face stares out, free of the grime, clear, handsome, stern, and entirely human. A red sore marks one cheek of the man's face, just beneath the left eye. The eyes, staring now from beneath thick dark eyebrows seem to survey the watchers as if surveying ranked soldiers or peasantry, belying a feverish madness. The parched, dry lips crack and bleed as the man begins to speak, his voice deep and cracked, coming from a throat that has not tasted water in days.

"I am Gaigin, of house Mortel, High Templar in the Ranks of King Kalak of Tyr, to whom the Stones and the Sky bow in obedience. By His divine will, you shall obey and give reverence, Slaves!"

The final words come clear of the cracked, dry throatiness of the words, and with them comes a wave of power, of awe and majesty...as if this is a voice that must be obeyed, as if this is a man who must be heard and respected...

The effect passes quickly, as the maddened mind that sent the power forth reverts to it's feverish state. Gaigin coughs violently, sinking against the bole of the tree, falling to his knees in weakness, his torn and dirty fingernails digging into his torn skin, scratching violently. Slowly, Gaigin lets his head fall against the tree in exhaustion, muttering incoherently.

"...noble....tem..plar....slave....guard...free...man...leader...corpse....nooo...not...yet...not.while.I.still.breathe...."

Breathing the final word, the haggard and weak Gaigin finally collapses, eyes closing in total and utter exhaustion.

EARHQUAKE AGAIN?

The companions started out again after cleaning up Gaigin and giving him some food and water. The snake turned out to be real tasty and meat was left over for at least a couple of more days. The heavy load was split with the different members except Rayne and Elric. They got to carry "High Templar Gaigin". They made litter out of wood and vines and put the ex-caravan guard on it. The decease was on its way down or so Tak said and they were actually closer to getting out of the jungle from this side of the forest. Gaigin must have meandered in his delirious state and got himself lost, loosing most of his equipment as well. The halfling hunter said that it all was up to Gaea and she would determine the survival of the warrior.

The warrior would come out his delirious state every once in a while and believe he was a High Templar from Kalak being transported on his regal chair by his slaves. He thought he was wondering around mighty Kalak's garden. "Ho there, slave, get me some more blue berris wine over here." Elric would bow in mockery and hand him a waterskin. "Ho, why is my mistress pulling my regal chair?" Rayne would come over and plant a kiss on the warrior's forehead while telling him some nonsense. "Hey there sonny, when are you going to get your hair cut like your father?" Tak would smile, shrug his shoulders and continue on.

Gaigin would come to senses as well and struggle to recognize his surrounding and ask a few questions. Elric would smile and tell him, "Get back to sleep, you are still very weak." He would add in a mischievous tone, "Come back as High Templar. It is a lot more fun. Shall we, mistress Rayne?" They would pick up the litter and start down the trail again. (DM note: If we follow this trend, we can have a lot of laughs so I am counting on you or anyone else who wants to join.)

The forest trail was winding away and the companions were slowly descending the last part of the trek. They could see the great sand dunes at a distance whenever the green foliage allowed it. The forest seemed to end abruptly and loose itself in the great alluvial wastes. They still had a few hours of walking and Gaigin was becoming heavier by the moment. The warlock seemed to be enjoying himself as the delirious ex-caravan guard would wake up mumble a few incoherent words and dose off back to sleep. The air here was already drier as the hot winds blew across the sands into the dense undergrowth.

As the trip is continued, a sudden noise startles the group. For no discernible reason, countless birds and other winged creatures rise out of the surrounding brush and take to the sky. For a moment, everyone's ears are filled with the noise of rushing wings and hoarse shrieks. Then, an instant later, the ground begins to vibrate as a mighty rumbles builds deep within the earth.

Ptellac kneels down on the ground and starts a loud prayer, yelling at the top of his voice asking for forgiveness. Rayne and Elric cannot hold onto the makeshift stretcher and Gaigin is thrown off towards the ground or the ground rises up to meet the ex-caravan guard. Mendi and Chit are the only ones to somehow remain standing while the rest are thrown to the dirt floor. The shaking lasts only a few moments and a great sound is heard as if the earth itself has been ripped open. It was without doubt the largest quake since the Great one four months ago.

The earth itself tears apart as one might rip the peel a vel fruit. Dust and dirt fly into the air, trees topple around the group. A gaping crevice roughly 300 feet long by 100 feet wide at about 30 feet down is seen only a few yards from where the heroes are. The gaping maw that is the earth lies open like a wound. Steams and ancient vapors rise from the hole and through the clouds the heroes can see their first glimpse at a strange structure. The buildings are odd, seemingly grown rather than constructed. How they were built is unknown for no modern Athasian technique can account for the strange shapes, odd curves and other strange organic shapes of the edifices. There are no sharp corners on these structures, no angles of any kind. Furthermore, every shape is a vibrant, impossible color.

The tremor has caused some damage to the exterior of these structures. A great tear exposes a dark interior of one building, while huge chunks of rock crush a portion of a small sphere. A single trunk-like tube extends from the building at about 15 feet from the floor of the ravine.

OUT OF CHARACTER

HEALTH STATUS

Remember the scale:

Healthy (H) 100% hitpoints remaining

Slightly Wounded (SiW) 75% to 100% hitpoints remaining

Wounded (W) 50% to 75% hitpoints remaining

Seriously Wounded (SeW) 25% to 50% hitpoints remaining

Mortally Wounded (MW) 0% to 25% hitpoints remaining

Ptellac (SiW)

Koreth (SiW)

Rayne (W)

Elric (W)

Chit (SiW)

Ayrus (H)

Mendi (H)

Tak (H)

Gaigin (MW)

Gaigin will recover full hitpoints gradually in 5 days time notwithstanding any magical healing

There are some questions that are left unanswered just because of time constraints. In a three day turn around rate, I cannot expect people to post more than twice. People may take this up later on (depending on the situation) and answer these in a later turn with a little introduction.

Questions, comments, and suggestions please.

L8r,

Fabian