Gaigin sits by the fire, working quietly with his equipment. Already clothed in his newly mended and washed robe, he sets about carefully shaving his head with painstaking care, leaving only the single thick ridge in the center. Putting away his obsidian razor, he pulls out his new knife and begins to work on his new soon to be club.

"Ah, you should use this", said Mendi, giving his obsidian hatchet to Gaigin. "No need to blunt the sharpness on the crude work, use it for the finish!"

An hour of careful carving with the knife and hatchet, a little fire-hardening, and some work with the leather cord and remaining cloth turns out a serviceable weapon. The gnarled club now is now bared of its bark and few bits of rot, and equipped with a leather-wrapped grip and a hoop to hold it to Gaigin's belt. He gets less far with his new spear, managing only to turn the uprooted tree into a wrist-thick, eight foot long pole, which he uses as an awkward walking stick. Tired from the day's tasks, Gaigin takes a long nap and soon falls into a deep slumber.

Rayne moves to where the pterran has been resting all day and offers more healing to her wounded companion. "I think we still need some help to feel better, though this rest is doing wonders fer our spirits, our bodies still groan with protest!" She smiles at the saurian creature as she sits to mend his wounds as well as her own. Once again the two companions have a delightful chat with Marteu while visiting the mindscape.

Feeling exhausted the mul falls into a deep meditation beside her resting saurian friend. Once Rayne awakens, the sun has set so she opens the pouch and brings out the worm so it can stretch and eat and drink in comfort.

Without a second thought, Chit-Zik offers his healing talents, first to Tak, then to Ayrus who, to Chit-Zik, seems to be moving his way into the thri-kreen's clutch. Both hunter and windmage bow their heads and can now fully stretch out their taut muscles.

As the afternoon progresses on, Chit-Zik takes meticulous care of all his remaining weapons, while awaiting the night stories he's come to enjoy. Before the stories do start, however, he approaches Tak.

"This wet air is making it harder for me to breathe every day. How much far is it through this 'forest' of yours?" He looks at Tak with some concern, hoping for the best, but not expecting it after the experiences so far.

The halfling eyes sadden a bit as he responds, "We will leaving it sooner than you think and we will miss it sorely. There is no plentiful bounty for us in the desert nor any water to be had without a fight. Conditions here are deadly but you have a fighting chance." The halflings points west, "Out there…who knows when our next meal will come about."

Elric looked out at his companions, as they busily attended to their personal needs. A small grin found it way to his face as seemed the case most times since he joined with the Pak. Indeed truth be known, he had enjoyed himself more in the last few weeks than he had in most of his young life. To fight and learn amid worthy companions was his life’s choice and he could not have hand picked a better group than fate had lain in his hands. As his eyes return to look at the metal blade, carefully laid across his lap, Elric sighs in frustration. He had gone over the design of the Runes three times now. Each Rune categorized and artfully copied into his research book. However there seemed to be something missing from the design. Lifting the sword from his lap, he carefully lays it down on his folded cloak. Gathering up his research notes, Elric goes through the Runes and Symbols on the sword. First he studies each separately, then together in the combinations as seen on the blade. Again there seems to be something out of alignment. How could it be that the makers of the sword could have the abilities to form such a blade yet in the same breath been foolish enough to foul the design of the Runes?

Elric knew that is he was to solve the puzzle of the blade he must fully place the whole of his intellect upon the problem. His decision made, Elric stands and walks to the center of the camp. "I would ask a boon of the group. I have need to meditate upon the mysteries of Tempest. To do so would place me in little position to defend myself. I would ask that you watch over me as I ponder the workings of the blade, that I do not come to harm. We have traveled far together as a Pak and I trust each of you with my life." With a nod to Mendi and a grin "If not my coin, I may be consumed for only a short time or until the sun sets. In either case I ask that you allow me to complete my meditations. Only when it comes time to leave would I ask that you disturb me. Though I seek the knowledge of the sword with a passion I have little wish to be left behind for it."

"I will stand guard over you Elric." The mul responds and she keeps a vigilant watch over the half-elf throughout the rest of the afternoon.

Elric returns to his area and quickly clears all of his belongings to one side. Slowly removing his ever-present pouches from his waist and chest, Elric carefully places them in his backpack. Removing his tunic and headband, Elric stands in only his breeches and high desert boots. Moving slightly away from his things, the warlock stoops to his knees and begins to trace a four-pointed star into the dirt, each point facing a cardinal direction. Elric moves around the out side star, stopping at each point he turns outward bowing deeply. Standing again at his origin, the southern point of the star, the half-elf gestures arcanely into the air. Speaking a few soft words, Elric steps into the star and sits. Arranging himself cross-legged in the star, he closes his eyes.

When Aryus watches closely, he notices the arcane gestures are in fact a simple exercise to calm the mind and body commonly used in magecraft. The windmage explains to the group, "This is no magic spell or anything unusual, Elric is simply using meditation along with his mage training and his intellect to focus totally on the problem."

Elric’s Mind

When all things become one, the one becomes all. The phrase repeats itself over and over through the darkness. Only the muffled voices of the others break the baritone litany. When all things become one, the one becomes all. The phrase repeats itself over and over through the darkness. The soft breeze floats with moisture on its wings. When all things become one, the one becomes all. The phrase repeats itself over and over through the darkness. When nothing breaks the stillness of the litany, Elric’s mind truly becomes all. Elric brings forth an image of the sword in his mind’s eye.

With phenomenal clarity the logical forces of the Runes trace themselves across the blade. The storm Runes spread a chaotic web down the central line of the blade stretching from the pommel to the tip of the blade. In a new light, Elric sees the pyramid throws its web of control and focus about the central line of the blade. Taking for its dominion the fury of the storm. All of the main forces are controlled and aligned perfectly. Elric turns his mind to the crossbar. Where the crossbar meets the blade the forces of the storm build, but do not flow out along the crossbar. At the tip of the crossbar, Elric sees the Runes for lightning and thunder. The blade shines in his mind with the energy forces of the blade arcing across its surface. The gem sun in the center supplies the power to the storms on the hilt and down the mirrored blade. In turn the pyramid controls the storm. However the lightning and thunder in the crossbar fall outside the pyramids dominion. The link between the lightning and storm is not complete. The answer slowly forms itself in Elric’s mind. If the link was completed the power of the storm would feed the lightning and thunder, releasing the storms ferocious energies. The insight arcs through Elric’s mind, he must complete the link to bring forth the full strength of the sword. In what manner would it manifest? What Rune would complete the link? As the questions cascade through, Elric’s mind his breath quickens in excitement, he is so close. His skin shivers in the moist wind…

Real World

Elric leaps to his feet, arms stretched out wide. "Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!!!! I had the answer within my grasp!!" Stomping out of his carefully drawn star, Elric stumbles his legs numb from the long session of meditation. "My own excitement was my down fall I saw the path to knowledge and could not contain my grasp. Blood and Ashes!!" Kicking the dirt as feeling slowly returns to his physical form, Elric continues his tirade. "Elric you dim witted son of a Kank, your head is as thick as a, as a, You see you can’t even insult yourself in an original manner." Cursing and stomping about, the warlock makes his way to his belongings. Elric’s numb arms fumble with his tunic as he tries unsuccessfully to dress. "Can’t even gather enough focus of will to put on a tunic no wonder your father left, I, I" Elric suddenly drops to the dirt crumpled tunic in hand and stares at the ground.

The group raise their heads wondering what was going on and soon return to their business as they see it is only the half-elf with his new found sword. Ptellac whistled him over, "Come Elric, the erdlu you caught is hot and juicy. Come share your bounty with the rest of us over in the fire pit."

The fresh food that the hunters' brought back inspired more than Aryus' appetite, it also inspired a bit of curiosity. "This is what you call an erdlu? Looks very different from the ones I've had in the northlands." Tak and Chit looked at the half-elf in curiosity, "Different? How so?"

"Hmm, it is hard to describe but definitely noticeable. The least I can say is that the erdlu up there are faster and more dangerous looking, perhaps even bigger. I was never much of a hunter so I cannot say for sure. Anyway, I am just glad that we will all sleep with full bellies tonight." Aryus smiles and congratulates his companions for their good hunting work.

Aryus casts cure light wounds on the two most injured companions so far which seem to Koreth and Mendi. The air cleric breathes his prayers and both companions have their injuries carried away by a soft, warm breeze.

Later that Night

The erdlu meat was good and it filled everyone's bellies to full, as promised. It has been a long time since they have had such a filling meal. Satisfied with the food, Aryus wipes his hands and sips an herbal blend that Tak had made for him from forest leaves. The sweet smelling liquid gave a very calming and soothing effect.

Everyone seemed satisfied and comfortable then, all that waited was the evening's entertainment. It was Aryus' turn to tell the tale of his past and his northland home. Listening intently with interest, Aryus begins his story.

"The land I call home lies to the distant north. There the crimson sun looms over the scorched land with its dark radiance, sucking the life out of every last creature and every last drop of precious water. My birth was not a celebrated event, it was instead shrouded in mystery and clouded by a dark past. I knew not who my parents were for I was abandoned after my birth by my mother who obviously did not like my existence. I could barely remember those days, for I was so young. I was placed in the great desert and left for the land to swallow me alive. However I sit here and speak to you today because I am still alive and the land had not killed me."

The windmage nods to his attentive audience, sighs and pauses for a moment before contuining.

A man rescued me from this harsh desert. His name was Melor, a worshipper of the wind who called a barren island in the Silt Sea his home. For reasons I do not know, he took me into his care and raised me as his own. He taught me the skills I have today, the power to control the winds and to master its powerful magic. For fifteen years I spent on that rocky island, where strong scorching winds blasted the place all day long. When I came of age and was initiated into Melor's order of air, he decided that I should embark on a time of wandering and seek my own destiny.

"Melor set me off with nothing but the knowledge he had taught me and the words, "May gentle winds carry you through your life." I left my island home and flew for days across the great Silt Sea until I reached a great plain of scorched wastelands and barren deserts. These were the great plains of the north, for many hundreds of leagues there was not a sign of life or a drop of water. For a long time I wandered throughout these lands, with no direction or purpose. I felt weak and lost, not another soul in sight, I was lonely. But one day all of this changed. I wandered into a dried oasis and discovered the dying body of a beautiful elven woman there. For the next few days I stayed with her and slowly nourished her back to health. She thanked me with all her heart and promised to repay my kindness. Being one of the few people I've ever encountered in my life, she had fascinated me. I asked her to tell me a story of her past and her face was instantly saddened as she recounted her tale. Her name was Alana, and she was an outcast from her elven tribe. An outcast because she practiced a dangerous form of sorcery, the magic that you and I know today as wizardry." Ayrus points to Elric as he says this last few words.

"I had thought before that the only form of magic in this world was that of the elements and that of the wind. What was this new form of sorcery that was worth dying for? Alana described its mystical effects to me and explained that sorcery has the potential to save the world or destroy it again. As a favor to her, I asked Alana to teach me her dangerous art. I learned well and soon my skill as a preserver matched my devotion to the winds."

"Alana and I traveled many lands in the great north. There were the deep and dark forests, the tall and white capped mountains, a great valley of scalding lava, and a great swamp of ancient groves. There were many ruins in that land too and many nomadic people who recount in their legends of times past. Being ever so curious of the world around me, I loved the travels. Eventually our passion for wandering would take us south to your land, to this land. We came upon the gates of a great city that you southerners call Urik." The companions strain their ears and realize that Urik had been pronounced with a northern accent.

"Before the tall walls of Urik were a group of refugees who claim that they had fled the western mountains after a great earthquake. Alana and I joined this ragtag band and we approached Urik with confidence that we could seek solace within. But the king of Urik had a different idea. A loud of boom of war drums and cries came from the city. Its massive gates opened and out poured an army of well trained soldiers. They didn't give us a second look before a shower of arrows rained down upon us followed by the charge of thunderous kank cavalry. Screams of death and pain came from all around me. I called upon my power of the winds to protect us from the arrows, but my powers were limited. I saved only myself in this great battle, and I stood all alone amidst a field of death. Among the dead was my beloved Alana, who died in this great chaos. The Urikite army then charged across the field to finish their quest of atrocity. With a few survivors of this massacre, I fled on a trade road that headed deeper into the south."

"Our escape eventually took us to the gates of Tyr, the so called free city of this land. Battered and worn out in both spirit and body, I knew not of what to do. I wandered through this city until I met up with all of you, new companions whom I've started a new quest of wandering with."

Aryus ends his story and lets a deep silence sink into the camp.

Gaigin sits staring at the fire, picking at the remains of the feast caught and prepared by the intrepid hunters. Finishing with a sigh and absent-mindedly wiping his hands on his newly-cleaned and mended robe, Gaigin rises and addresses the group.

"Nows the best time to deal with this, as we'll not have many days this peaceful again for sometime, no doubt. After speaking with Mendi earlier today I figured we may as well make it as official as we can. First Mendi, and then Rayne have bolstered our ranks since leaving Tyr, and after yesterdays events I'm sure there's not a one of us who's not thankful for their presence. So, unless anyone can think of any reason why they should not be, I would like to welcome them as full members o' the Pack, and full partners on our mission. Of course, this means I'll be wranglin' with every stripe o' money-grubbin Templar on our return to

Tyr just to get you two a pay-purse," Gaigin grins, "but then, stranglin'Templars is as worthy a hobby as I can think of. Besides, if Ptellac here will agree to regard you two as official members of our Trading envoy on behalf of his people, we should be able to blackmail the Templars into partin' with their silver."

Gaigin sits back down and scratches his newly-shaven scalp idly, waiting for some response.

The saurian gets closer to the firelight and his scales catch an eerie tone with the dancing flames. "I am honored that you should ask me but I have no say in the matter. I was supposed to be merely being escorted by a group of mercenaries. That is how the templars described you. I have shared your camp, fought and bled beside you, and learned a lot from you in our trip. I can no longer agree with the templars that described you all as 'unschooled brutes who would nevertheless get you to your homeland'. Mendi first and then Rayne have proven their worth to the quest and I doubt them not. I think they make a fine addition to the group and I will be proud when I present you all to the village Triumvirate and then to my friends." Ptellac's words hang in the air seeming as the campfire's flames do their best to reach the twin moons only to disappear into thin air. Everyone nods and silently whisper their approval. The whole group turns to sleep as the two guards take their first watch to ensure a safe rest.

Expedition Day 10 - Year of the Desert's Fury of the 190th King's Age (Free Year 11)

Alluvial Sand Wastes - Western Side of the Forest Ridge

The companions woke up and went about their business as usual with a certain heavy mood hanging over their heads. Maybe it was the fact that the vast alluvial wastes waited for them or the fact that the strangely-wonderful living building had been buried. Not all were saddened as could be seen by the kreen. Chit was eager to get going and woke up everyone as soon as the crimson sun shot its first rays through the green canopy overhead.

They ate erdlu leftovers from last night's roast, and had some fleshy fruits that Tak brought back from his early forest trail walk. Some of the city-fellows peeled the fruit as its acrid covering contrasted greatly with its sweet juicy inside. But it was hard work as the hairy peel clung tenaciously to the pulp inside. Tak laughed at them and ate the fruit in big bites only being careful not to swallow the hard pit. What else could be expected from someone who delights in the taste of grubs found in putrid, smelly places?

They made sure they had their fill of water before starting and also filled up their waterskins. Koreth took out two rolled up skins and passed them over to Gaigin; he also gave another to Rayne and the mul now counted two as her own. She excused herself as not having any ceramic pieces to give for the skin but Koreth merely laughed. Everyone now had the added weight of water in addition to splitting up the erdlu meat that would feed them for the next couple of days. No one delighted in the fact that both loads would get lighter as they interned themselves into the desert wastes. An old desert wanderer told Eñric once, "Water is never a weight, it is always a pleasure to walk in the hot desert and have your full water skins slap in tune with your steps."

The lush vegetation slowly gave way to scrubs and the scrubs stubbornly gave way to yellow, gritty sand. The sand was the worst of both worlds, the soft light sand blew about and delighted in choking them while the coarse, gritty sand delighted in skinning them raw wherever flesh touched it. The group made good progress, talking little and walking at a leisurely pace. Everyone that is except Tak; he had to force himself to get into his hunting rhythm and he knew he was holding up the group with his small steps. That fact was well hidden in the forest where his knowledge of the trails gave him an edge; he was even sorely needed back there. Still, now that it was just open space and all they had to do is keep the sun at their back, his small steps were a hindrance that only served to slow them down. Of course, no one said anything about that and the halfling only hoped that his usefulness to the group would not be put to question; he only hurried his small feet to try and keep up with the fast pace of the other long-legged desert travelers.

They stopped briefly for a bite to eat and took their water as they walked. They passed by the noon sun without any unusual situations. There wasn't anyone else to be seen and any attack could be detected with ample time… or so they sought. It was way into the afternoon when Ayrus' cloak fluttered about more than usual that they started to worry. The terrain that had been traversed not only sported sand and gravel but also a few rock outcrops here and there with what looked like entrances. Who knows how many eons ago these natural shelters had been used?

The sand started picking up before they heard the whistling. They looked northward and saw a distressing picture. Gaigin, to whom the dry air was doing wonders for his sickness, took up his leadership role immediately, "Kank-dung, first day in the damned desert and we are hit with a Gith-spawned storm." Mendi looked about and discerned, "'tis not so bad, I think it will pass quickly." Ptellac huddled close to them, "We were also taken by one when we crossed last moon but it wasn't too bad, not as bad as I have heard them described in your tablelands where it will whistle and whine for days on end."

The wind was clearly felt now as scarves fluttered madly about and threatened to ride the winds. The pterran trader screamed his next words, "We took shelter in some rock outcropping and the storm was gone sometime during the night. 'tis almost time to stop anyway." He points to what looks like an entrance to a rather large cave while covering his mouth and eyes with his other scaled hand. "We can't keep walking like this….

Your actions…

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

Ayrus (SiW)

Chit (H)

Elric (H)

Gaigin (W)

Gaigin will recover full hitpoints gradually in 2 days time notwithstanding any magical healing

Koreth (SiW),

Mendi (SiW),

Rayne (H),

Tak (H),

Ptellac (SiW)

GENERAL

There is a new "Water Situation" that I will update same as "Health Status" for as long as we are in a desert environment. This situation assumes that the character has taken his allotment for the day.

When you post, think of the following:

• what you will do right away (i.e. how you handle the storm)
• any precautions on entering the cave if you decide to (before, in the cave, etc.)
• any other actions from this moment until next morning

Next post will detail the following day. Krista let me know if Rayne will tell her story tonight.

WATER SITUATION

COMBAT/SAVING THROW MODIFIERS

Let's try these modifiers and see how they play out. This will be for all humanoids and monsters where the weapon can be considered to "better" hit. It is fairly clear cut but we will adjust when special cases. I don't want to start listing a whole bunch of monster that we may never encounter; if you have any special questions then please let me know. For example, it will not be applied when a mekillot does his trampling damage but it will be applied when a tigone swipes at you.

Saving Throws

The character rolling the save will have and adjustment of -1 for every 3 levels difference with the spell caster. A 5^th level character saving against a 11^th level defiler will have a -2 on his saving throw. It does not work the other way, a 12^th level fighter still saves without any adjustments against a lower level mage (that is already taken into account as his saving throw is easier as the fighter goes up levels).

Combat

If hit with 5 to spare then 50% chance +/- 5% per level difference of scoring double damage.

If hit with 10 to spare then automatic (double damage) and 50% +/- 5% per level difference of scoring triple damage.

Example: If a 7^th level warrior needs an 8 to hit a gith (3^rd level):

If he rolls 8-12 then normal damage.

If he rolls 13-17 then he has 70% chance of scoring double damage (50%+ 4 (7-3) x 5%). He scores normal damage if he doesn't make his % roll.

If he rolls 18-20 then he has 70% chance of scoring double damage (50%+ 4 (7-3) x 5%). He scores double damage if he doesn't make his % roll.

If the gith needs a 13 to hit.

If he rolls 13-17 then normal damage.

If he rolls 18-20 then he has 30% chance of scoring double damage (50%- 4 (3-7) x 5%). He scores normal damage if he doesn't make his % roll.

The gith has no chance to score triple damage.

Questions, comments, and suggestions please.

L8r,

Fabian