Clumps of trees stood out from the plains and some of these had quite some girth on them reminding Gaigin of his slaving days when he performed duties on a logging caravan near the city-state of Raam. They neared one of these oasis from the sun for a short rest when Tak found some large, clawed tracts. The group quickly decided against spending anytime near those trees and sweated some more under the red sun. According to the pterran lizard, they should only be three days away from his village…

Gaigin raised a hand to shade his eyes from the sun as he peered ahead. Three days til Lost Scale, according to Ptellac's estimate, and for once things were going easy. The Pack was well fed and healthy, not to mention clean and freshly watered, and things had settled down into a steady routine. The travel here wasn't as hard as some crossings he'd made before, and if danger still lurked everywhere, it was no more prevalent here as back across the mountains.

With then end in sight, Gaigin spent most of the daily march refining his knowledge of the Pterran tongue. He'd managed to get the throaty 'r' sounds down, but still had problems with some of the more obscure enunciations. Much of the day's march was spent walking at the front of the group, practicing the language with Ptellac's other student, Mendi. Marching hard to keep pace with the lanky, long-limbed elf, Gaigin worked his tongue around the difficult phrases of the tongue, not really surprised to learn that the elf had picked the Pterran language up faster than he, though Mendi's vocabulary had a Trader's bent.

The elven peddler was more than glad when the warrior came to his side with the proposal of practicing the hard tongue of the Pterrans. With bright eyes - the elf was dreaming about the future trades and barters at their friend's village.

"Well, that's always the trick: you begin with what you need most, or like most, to speak about. Then things come easy..." Mendi launched a covered glance towards the noble warrior, who was sweating all the more profusely since he carried his new shield. "I'm sure Koreth would learn much on a pillow..."

Koreth looked over quizzically at the elf's strange comment, his brow wrinkling for a moment. A smile burst across his face and he roared with laughter, realizing what the elf must have meant by the comment.

"Aye, your right elf," Koreth grinned "but I like my women to be soft, not scaly." He gave the elf a conspiratory wink, chuckling at Mendi's reaction.

Still smelling of aprig remains, Elric walks along with the group. Staring out towards the herd animals he contemplates the actions of his young companion Whisper. The tagster cub was growing daily, in body at
least. Though while his body grew, he was not learning the desert as he would have had he lived among a tagster pride. In some cases Whisper's natural instincts would shine through, like with the zhacals. However that wasn't always a good thing. The time had come to begin the cub's training in earnest.

Rayne spends the day traveling comfortably with her companions. <free is a good feelin'> As the day lingered on, the mul fell into step with the halfling and discussed the lessons of the mind that they had not had much time to engage in as of late. Rayne also mentions to Elric her idea of training the cub in the mindscape.

Like the crimson sun, the day was bright and hot just like any other day on Athas. The winds were hot but gentle, the weeds and dry shrubs rattled and hissed as the light breeze ran through them. However this day was not like any other during this journey for it was quiet and peaceful and the fact that they had found a nice water pond. "The spirits of the wind are kind to us." Aryus says more to himself than to others. "We seem to have been blessed with tranquillity as of late. I just hope it is not the calm before the roar of a Tyr storm." For most of the rest of the day, Aryus trudged on through the plains lost deep in his own thoughts. The windmage fell into a trance like meditation as he thought and dreamed of floating and flying.

CAMP

The group had made camp early tonight as they found a decent spot not far off the path. The sun was golden red on the western horizon, ready to plunge the world into darkness. As the rest of his companions prepared for camp and built a fire, Aryus laid down his equipment. As he put down his bow and
arrows, a thought suddenly occurred to the windmage "Archery?". It was an important skill for an air cleric and for any traveler in the wilderness, yet Aryus realized that his skill in this deadly art was not nearly as effective as he wanted it to be. "Perhaps it's time I practiced a little. Time that I should work on using the air to guide my arrows."

Picking up his bow again and grabbing a dozen or so obsidian tipped arrows, Aryus walks to the edge of the encampment. He spots a desert cactus about fifty feet away and loads an arrow to his bow. Picking a spot on his target, Aryus carefully aims his bow. As he releases the arrow, Aryus quickly blows into it giving it a blessing of air. The missile pierces the cactus slightly off of its mark but makes a deadly impact anyway; the arrow was lodged more than halfway in the plant. Aryus grins, "Not as good as I had hoped, but not a bad start either. More work wouldn't hurt." Aryus continues to practice with his bow until the call for dinner rang out from his companions. Even when the sun had set and it was nearly pitch dark, Aryus relied on his infravision to find his target. Danger does not pick day or night to attack, thus an effective archer must be ready at all times.

Sitting cross-legged near the campfire, Gaigin cursed and grumbled as he futilely tried to patch the crumbling remains of the robe he had purchased in Tyr. What had begun as a loose fitting gray robe had become a mottled beggar's rag, unfit for the lowliest slave in Urik's Obsidian Pits. Finally giving up, Gaigin cast the rag aside for the moment and turned his attention elsewhere. The big fighter laid out the various hides and plates first of all, then set out the remains of his other equipment, his mask and club, spear and ax. Beginning with the shark-hides, Gaigin began to clean and care for his equipment. Gaigin scraped the hides clear of accumulated dirt and scoured them with gritty sand before carefully folding and tying them for transport. The scrab-plates were likewise cleaned and polished with sand and carefully retied and put away. Gaigin's few weapons were next, and he set about carefully examining each one for flaws. His club was first, and the warrior eyed the thing with distaste. The hardwood branch had dried out quickly in the hot desert sun, and its color had changed. Gaigin recognized the mottled purplish stain that seemed to cover half the length of the gnarled club as being Scrab ichor that had somehow soaked into the unfinished wood and left a permanent stain. The resulting color was unattractive, but the weapon would still serve it's function, so Gaigin polished it with sand and set it aside. He then shaved some splinters of the length of his spear and frowned as he re-examined his new ax. The flaw wasn't too horrendous, but it still made the weapon undependable against armored opponents. Gaigin had seen a flawed blade cost its user his life before, and hoped he would not be forced to rely on the ax anytime soon.

Placing his equipment carefully aside, Gaigin leaned against a large boulder and sighed, staring into the flickering flames of the fire and waiting for sleep to take him.

Mendi spent some time at mending his leather armor. Though the breastplate had suffered less that the warrior's armors, it had avoided him some really nasty wounds. Abruptly, Mendi cursed in a loud voice, for his bone needle had just broke, and the piercing part had sunk in his left thumb... a pearl of blood appeared on the elf's finger. Mendi scowled evilly, extracted the thorn, and then resumed his work, while grumbling about under his breath.

Koreth rises up from the fire after engulfing his share of dinner. He strides over to his pack, and picking up the strange shield. He gazed at its surface, the dragon now squatted on what appeared to be a large boulder with its wings outspread. He shook his head.

<Pah! Magic, who understands it anyways?> he strapped the shield onto his arm and drew his sword. The weight of the new shield had become comfortable after the mock battles he had engaged in with Rayne. He stepped into an offensive stance and practiced several different attacks with both his sword and shield. An illusionary foe before him, he took out the frustrations of life. He was half-tempted to pretend it was Elric, but his animosity for the half-elf was fading.

SOMEWHAT LATER:

The noble warrior retired from his one sided battle, sheathing his thick bone blade and setting his shield up against his pack. He dug the familiar red blanket out from his pack, laying it out next to his belongings. He wiped the sweat off of his brow and sat down upon it. The chill of the desert night was fast approaching, the cool wind feeling good against his sweaty skin. Koreth crossed his legs and set his hands upon his knees. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes.

With his anger at Elric fading, the noble warrior found it much easier to concentrate on the few mental exercises he had picked up. He let himself feel the power of his will, content to listen to it's whispers. The hush of the desert and soft conversation of his companions faded out of his mind slowly, only to be replaced with the sound of his own thoughts and a sense of calm. His breath steadied, coming in even intervals much like his teacher of the way had instructed him.

He could call up barriers with which to hide behind, fortify his flesh with the way, or place himself in a deep sleep of healing; but Tak's lessons on how to affect another with the way seemed like a maze of strange logic. It felt so natural for Koreth to use the way to affect himself, but he could not make the connection to extend his will to touch others. The noble warrior sat in the near stillness of his mind, letting his thoughts wander about randomly. The answer was out there, so tantalizingly close. It was if all he had to do was reach out, and there it would be....

At camp that night, the mul practices what Tak and she discussed. After a while Elric joins the mul in the mindscape and they try to contact the cub and coax it there for some lessons.

MINDSCAPE:
As the cub comes bounding playfully towards its friends, Rayne brings the image of the cub's mother to mind once more. The cub is distracted once again, as the mother it once knew moves to sit beside the mul. Elric brings to mind the image of the canines they encountered a few days back. The cub hunches, all its fur on end, but looks to its mother before moving. Using the cue, Rayne takes the mother through stalking (stocking? Never seen a tagster with socks on J ) movements, and follows the pack of dogs after they kill the pig. Picking up on a straggler, the cat attacks and the cub is quick to follow. Beginning to feel drained after the lessons, Rayne leaves Elric and the cub and slips off to an Oasis for a chat with Marteu as she meditates to regain her reserves.

As the mul relaxes by the fire, listening to the light conversation around her, she looks over the sand-shark hide that she has gathered, as well as the chitin she gathered from the queen scrab. <should make good armor . . . if I knew how to make it> Approaching Mendi, the mul clears her throat and has a seat beside the elf. "I was wonderin' if ye could help me when we get to the village. I would like to get armor made from the chitin and hide I gathered, but I do not know the art of negotiation. I have plenty to share with ye if ye can help me get a good deal!" the ex-slave almost holds her breath as she waits for the elf's response. Mendi's eyes light up at the prospect of making yet another deal, "Glad to help you but you'll have to tell me what I can get for my troubles. What can you share with me?" The small talk dies down as the embers do when some sort of an arrangement is reached.

After her chat with the elf is through, Rayne leans back comfortably against her pack of materials for her future new armor, brings for the worm for some fresh air, and slips into a restful slumber until her turn for watch.

Expedition Day 18 - Year of the Desert's Fury of the 190th King's Age (Free Year 11)

Scrublands - Somewhere in the Hinterlands

MORNING

Morning activities had come and gone in what looked to be another peaceful day. The party had taken up the road trying to shield themselves from the merciless sun. Mendi and Gaigin still traveled out in front a few hundred feet leading the group, which more or less kept together. Elric strayed while he tried to keep the tagster cub in line and interested in keeping up with the group. The cub was small and tired quite often which was when the warlock grabbed the animal and slung it over its shoulder and carried it for a while.

They had come upon another small waterhole that had its own interesting denizens...fowl. And as they soon found out, edible and quite tasty fowl. Although not on their plans, the lunch break was longer than usual and they ate roasted bird under the promise to Gaigin that they would march a little longer into the night than usual to make up for the lost time.

It was at this time when the first surprise appeared. It rode a long, white snake or so it seemed. The snake sported a good 3 or 4 feet in diameter and over 100 feet in length with sand colored carapace becoming softer and whiter towards its underbelly. The beast opened its mouth and a maw filled with sharp teeth was seen punctuated with upper and lower fangs more than 6 inches in size. The beast's large pupil-less, black eyes gave way to what appeared large horns. As amazed as what this seemed, the rider was what caught everyone's attention.

They had been around Ptellac long enough to recognize a pterran riding on top of a neat, leather harness. The pterran grabbed the reins of his mount with one hand while the other hand held a polearm aloft and ready for battle. The scout was wearing leather vest and a strange headpiece made out of the horns of the snake. The snake swiftly lifts its head, where the rider sits, and stands at about 50 feet with its mouth wide-open. The sun glints off the bone polearm and the snake's teeth as the pterran speaks.

The voice issued forth is a combination of throaty growls and raspy 'Rs' which reminds the party of your saurian friend. "Identify yourselves! Who are you and what business do you have with the mighty pterran nation of the Hinterlands." When Gaigin and Mendi step to the front to try and catch whatever it is he said, Koreth interrupts them by putting a hand on Gaigin's shoulders. "You better put those lessons to good use, we have company." As silently as the first snake rider appeared, three more slither forward and outflank the party. One of the worms makes an accidental (?) dive for the party but the rider pulls him back just as the teeth filled maw snaps a mere distance away from Tak. You can see that this rider in particular is having a hell of a time trying to put the snake under control. He kicks at it and knocks it on the head with a small club strapped to his wrist while the snake shakes trying to throw the rider off its head.

The leader again addresses the group, this time in broken common, "Who be you? What want with big pterran people of Hinterland?"

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

Gaigin (H)

Koreth (H)

Ayrus (H)

Tak (H)

Rayne (H)

Mendi (H)

Elric (H)

Whisper (H)

GENERAL

OK, please give me actions and questions in character that you will make to this fellow. I will try and answer with short turn before the recap.

Questions, comments, and suggestions please.

L8r,

Fabian