The cub slowly backpedals towards its dead mother and cuddles up to her trying in vain to suckle from her. Now that its pelt was seen in its natural state, the cub looked rather scrawny; its ribcage jutted out from underneath him. It nudges close to its mother's face, licking the large beast. The harsh, deadly sun reminds everyone of how cruel Athas is as the small cat lets out a long, lamenting yowl.

The sight of the vultures was sickening. Foul birds who polluted the great air with their appetite for death and carnage. Aryus went around the scene and kicked some of the birds away. He knocked an arrow into his bow and aimed threateningly at those vultures who dared to get close.

The windmage then approached the orphaned cub with caution. The creature definitely needed his help or else it would face an inevitably slow death. "Come here little one, I won't hurt you." Aryus kneels down and looks at the cub, trying to make eye contact. He then takes out his nearly empty waterskin and offers some water to the little cub. The little creature seemed intimidated at first, backing away from the large group of humanoids who have approached it.

"Easy now." Aryus says to his companions, "We need to help this thing, least we leave it here to die. Back up a little, we need to go slow. It has good reason to be scared of us. And keep those bloody vultures away."

Koreth shakes his head, at Ayrus' actions. He picks a few bits of gravel from the sands near his feet. "Things die in the desert everyday," he mutters somberly as he watches the vultures flap about "I just try to make sure I'm not one of them."

"They sure do die everyday, Koreth and I do make sure I am not one of them. But if I can help it, I won't just stand around and let it die. Such is the attitude of those who do not care for this world," the wind mage adds.

Annoyed at Ayrus' keen hearing, Koreth flips another rock at the gathered vultures. <I would have said it louder if I wished a reply.> his rock goes wide of its mark, disappearing into the side of a dune. "Would you do the same if it were a gaj, instead of this cub?" Koreth asks, not turning to face Ayrus "Life is a cruel mistress, she deserts everyone eventually." The question is left unanswered as the vultures squawk theirr complaints.

The noble warrior sifts all the rocks into one of his hands, and then picks out one on the top. The vultures were getting more and more brave as Koreth watched. He flipped a rock at one brave enough to land. A plume of dust rose from its feathers as the rock bounced harmlessly off the scavenger. The disgusting bird took flight almost immediately, arousing the nervousness of its companions.

Koreth laughed to himself, picking another stone from his hand. < I'm out in the middle of nowhere, throwing rocks at vultures. > he thought to himself < What would father think of this? >

Gaigin stands impassively, arms folded across his chest, holding his pole at a slight angle. His face was neutral as he stood back, watching the little creature. As Aryus and others approach the creature, Gaigin sighs. He'd thought as much. He'd seen far too much human suffering to care overmuch for any animal, but he knew others in his party were not so hardened.

"Careful with that thing. It's weak, but there's no tellin' how far its mind powers've awakened." Gaigin warns, knowing he was stating the obvious.

In response to his own warning, Gaigin prepares his favorite defense, forming the image of a massive Caravan Argosy surrounded by heavy bone and wooden plates, and being dragged by massive Mekillots, and, of course, armed with a full contingent of guards. As the fighter eyed the young beast, he got ready to channel his will into his defense at the first sign of some outburst of the little things' strained will.

Rayne looked at the poor creature and felt her heart sink. <poor thing, all alone, doesn't know what to do> As Aryus approached the kitten, Rayne kept her eyes on the vultures who were waiting for their chance to feast. "Can anyone speak to the poor thing? Don't these creatures have psionic powers?" Rayne looks around the group.

Watching Aryus attempt to give the cub water, Rayne sends him a warning, "Careful Aryus, cornered creatures will attack. Maybe we should just toss it some scraps to gain its confidence first?" Rayne offers some of her rations to the wind-mage to toss to the cub.

Heeding Rayne's suggestion, Aryus double thinks his actions. Despite the little creature being a cub, it still had sharp claws and a strong jaw. Aryus backs away from the cub and takes some of the scraps offered by Rayne. He throws them at the creature, hoping for the cub to realize that he has not hostile intent.

"Not a bad idea Rayne, I should be more careful. But I don't want to stay here for too long." Aryus looks up at the vultures circling about and then looks to his waterskin which was emptying quickly. "I'm running out of water, we better move soon before I become vulture food too." The thought of that disgusted Aryus quite a bit.

Feeling the cub is being looked after, the mul's attentions are drawn away by another thought. Looking to the corpse of the mother tagster; <Hmmm... the coat is good for camouflage, wonder how many I could get out of that?> "Gaigin, may I borrow yer knife? If Aryus can get the cub away, I wouldn't mind taking the advantage of obtaining that adult's pelt. I'd like to make a cloak from it - mine's a little tattered. Whoever wants to help me make it can have what's left." Turning to look at Mendi "Might make fer some good trading eh elf?" The mul awaits a response to her proposition.

Gaigin shrugs and pulls his knife from behind his belt, tossing it lightly to Rayne. "Go ahead, but ye'll have to pack it and tan it when we reach Ptellac's village, we can't afford any more delays." Gaigin eyes the small cat warily, "I'd wait til the kit is dealt with before ye start to skin...no telling what it'll do."

Gaigin turns and eyes the vultures, sighing as Koreth tosses stones at them. Few people appreciated vultures, even if they were among the best of creatures on Athas...

Almost as if reading Gaigin's thoughts Tak’ smiles and adds, "at least scavengers only prey on the dead - as opposed to most of humanity which preys on the living."

Gaigin nods. "And more then that. If there be anything like yer "Gaia" concept in the Slave Pits, it's them creatures. Tis a common saying among slaves in the Pit that "Freedom's found in the belly of a Vulture...""

As Gaigin tosses Rayne his knife Elric moves forward towards the cub. "The pelt would surly be worth the trouble, but first let me have a try at calming the cub. It might well attack you to defend it mother as it has been the vultures."

Moving slowly across the sand, Elric focuses on projecting a feeling of calm and acceptance towards the little cub. The little cub immediately goes on the defensive and backs to its mother and emits a low growl. Stopping where he is, Elric drops to his knees and calmly maintains eye contact with the cub. Slowly with small movements as not to alarm the cub, he produces a small cut of the Erdlu meat. Knowing that after such a time in the desert the cubs thirst would probably be more than its hunger, the warlock carefully trickles a small amount of the precious water into his hand. Elric tries to ignore the gasp of his companions at the use of water in such a way. Wasted water in the desert was truly a sin. However Elric hoped this wouldn't be a waste. The cub was without its mother and would surely die without aid. To Elric, it seemed perfectly logical for the small cub to join the Pack. Elric extends his hand toward the cub, one holding water and the other meat. While still looking at the cub, the warlock focuses his thought on companionship to the animal and makes a low purring noise.

Tak’ circles the dead creatures - amazed at the size of the megapede. In the forest predators were generally small in size - or else they would not be able to move amongst the thick undergrowth. The exoskeleton was immense - an interlocking section of thick plates. Combined with its massive pincers - this beast would trouble any in the desert. Truly, only the maternal protective instinct had enable the relatively tiny cat to defeat it.

Treating the vultures as harmless, Tak’ nevertheless took out his bow, his eyes scanning the horizon. Scavengers were not all necessarily harmless. Watching the party cluster around the cub while making sure nothing approaches the grisly scene without being noticed, the wily halfling almost chuckles as dry rations are thrown to the cub. An animal raised on the warm meat of the hunt would hardly wish to eat the dry bead of man.

Elric however, had a much better approach - with meat and water. Tak’ smiled at the half-elf's growing decision-making skills. Although he was somewhat concerned that Elric might be overcome psionically if the distressed cub turned on him. Taking a few steps closer, the halfling ranger stood close by to assist Elric if things turned nasty.

The cub slowly moves forward and laps the water from Elric's palm. Moving towards the other hand, the cub sniffs hungrily. The cub buries his head in Elric's hand and begins to eat. Elric yips in a hurt voice and pulls his hand quickly back though not totally to his side. The cub skittishly jumps back then moving forward sniffs and begins to see wear the food had ended and Elric's hand had begun. Slowly with his other hand Elric rubs the cubs fur in a comforting manor. He leans into the warm pressure of Elric's hand and moves towards Elric's body snuffing for more water. As Elric gently picks up the cub, he truly begins to realize how close to death the cub was. The cub's skin was amazingly loose and it mouth was bleeding around its loose teeth from eating the hard Erdlu meat. Holding the cub close, purring to it softly, Elric walks away from the mothers corpse. A brief wink to Rayne gives her the O.K. to procedure in gathering the pelt.

Smiling at his half-elven friends success, Tak’ walks over, eyeing the cub cradled in Elric’s arms, busy licking water from his hand.

"You had best be careful now with the life you have decided to protect Elric. For that cub is wild - and should be free to do as it wishes," Tak’ adds with a smile, "although it looks at present it wishes to stay with its present company."

Taking on a more serious eye, Tak’ turns his attention to the weakened cub, and says to the warlock "I cannot help mere dehydration and starvation, but sickness and wounds are something I can do something about my friend."

Chit-Zik stares at the scene unfolds, but this one will not going unquestioned. He faces Elric and Rayne trying to care for the creature. "Your motherhood instincts are useless here, or they will be soon."

He approaches, looking at the small cat. "This is a animal, and a hunter. It does not know how to live your life, or react as you do." The thri-kreen thinks about how to word his next statement. "Sometimes thri-kreen are taken as servants by your people. We never react well in the long run. Your people believe you can teach anything with some intelligence how to act, and how to react. You can't teach us and," he glances at the cub. "You can't teach it."

"This creature is like myself because we are born with knowledge. It unfolds as we live. When I hunt, I just know how to do it. When something happens to my pack, I do what I do because countless generations have taught me what do to."

He exhales long and deeply from his thorax. "None of you could take care of this cub, I'm afraid. When you travel, it would panic and tear you apart if you held it. You also don't have enough cla- hands to keep it at bay. You do not think like it, and you do not understand it anymore then it understands you. Should any of you take care of this animal, someone will die."

Mendi asks Tak: "Tak, is that true? Do you think there is no way to tame this cub?"

The small hunter shrugs, "Who can say? I have seen stranger hunting partners in my own jungle land. The kitten is sorely in distress and it is young still, maybe the warlock can somewhat "tame" it, just enough so that it is not dangerous to us.

The mul shrugs at Elric and smiles warmly as the cub is taken away in the warlock's arms. The small cat took eager bites of the erdlu meat and lapped away at the water the warlock was giving it. Now was the time to put to good use the pelt. She changed her mood to one befitting the grim, bloody job ahead of her. She kicks at a couple of vultures that were all ready for the feast as the cub was taken away and asked for help from her companions in keeping them away for some time.

She turns the large cat around not sure of where to cut and decides to slice up the softer underbelly <hopefully someone in Ptellac's village can help me with tanning the pelt so it doesn't rot away>. Spot decided upon, the mul sinks her knife into the large feline...

A loud growl was issued and Elric falls over backwards. One of his arms and neck sported sharp claw marks that were quickly being covered in blood. The small cat had bristled its fur again and was far from the cute kitten that was held in the warlock's arms moments ago. The wild beast quickly approaches Rayne, stops a few yards away from her and a loud hiss is released from its throat.

Rayne suddenly gets up when she heard her companions' warning. She drops her knife, grimaces as if in pain as both hands quickly press on her temples.

MINDSCAPE

The mul is quickly sucked into a vast plain desert not unlike the one she was standing on only that the colors weren't quite right. The sand was shiny jet black while the sky was sort of like greenish in tone. She looked around surprised but her companions were nowhere to be found. She was all alone when she heard a loud hiss from behind her. She turned around and could only bring her hands up as a large cat jumped on top of her. The mul yelled but her voice didn't sound the same as if her yelling came from far away. The large cat swiped its sharp claws which came back bloodied and bit into her thigh. The mul disentangled with the beast and looked at her wounds that were dripping fresh blood...fresh blue blood. No time to wonder at her surrounding, Rayne gathered her wits as she saw the beast silently circle her waiting for another opening to attack. The tagster was not the dead mother as she would have thought since it had the pelt marking of the little kitten. An even yellow-brown coat with distinctly black pointed ears but it was no kitten...this was a full-grown desert predator she faced....

A whip appears in the mul's hand, she cracks it out at the cat before her. Where it strikes, the image of the adult tagster cracks open and falls away, revealing a scared kitten, dehydrated, nearing death, weak and alone. To the frightened kitten, the mul looks very large. Rayne tries to reach out and rationalize with the kitten somewhat - though she knows the attempt is probably futile. "Yer mother's dead. I know what that's like to feel lost and alone. Me father's dead to." She attempts to bring forth a series of images to show the cub of her loss, and the pain she has known. "We are one in the same cub, the pack and I can help ye. Back down."

The feline again turns into a mighty desert predator and leaps at the mul in another attack, but looks about confused as it only grabs the strange colored sand. Her laughter draws the cub's attention skyward as the mul is levitating above with the whip still in one hand and a large tortoise-shell-shield in the other. The feline leaps at the mul but she simply moves higher. The whip has no trouble reaching the cub and it sheds the adult shell and becomes the weak, near death kitten once again as the whip strikes it's body.

In the physical world, Rayne slowly moves from the mother's corpse <damn that pelt would make a good cloak>.

Mendi recoiled in shock as the kitten wildly attacked Rayne, for he had been slowly gathering his will to try to contact the cub, and was taken back by this violent reaction. The trained mind of the elf soon recovered, and processed with an analysis of the situation...

Stunned by the cub's sudden transformation Elric stand bewildered for a moment staring at his shredded arm. Coming quickly back to the situation at hand, Elric sees Rayne grabbing her temples and rushes towards the cub. Knowing the cub was in all likelihood attacking Rayne psionically to protect its mother Elric tries to think of a way to help. Knowing he would be of no use psionically, Elric takes the only action he can think of, he dives onto the cub from behind and wrestles it to the ground. The cub thrashes in Elric's arms, growling and lashing out with deadly claws. Twisting from side to side, the warlock tries to pull his cloak in to help protect against the cub's sharp claws, finally gaining a good handful of the cub's scruff he yanks up hard.

His concentration broken, the cub cannot maintain the psionic battle it was unleashing with the mul. Elric stands in the desert sand his cloak and tunic in shreds. Blood drips from his arm and covers his chest. In his right hand he holds the tagster cub by the scruff. Shaking the cub to disrupt its use of psionics, Elric speaks to the cub in a forced even voice. "NO! We are Pack, you know pack! You know family. Learn we are your chance for life. We are your Pack!"

Moving away from the grisly scene of the mother's corpse, Elric walks into the dunes. Turning at the group's words of doubt in keeping the cub, he speaks above the hot breeze "The cub will be my responsibility. I do not seek this animal as a pet. To do so would be against the nature of our world and my beliefs. It is however my belief that each of us should get a chance to survive in this rotten Hell of a desert. This cub's mother fought to give that chance to this cub. That the cub stayed and protected its mother from the vultures shows it knows the meaning of loyalty to the pack. If there is a life to be forfeit that this cub might have a chance at life, let that life be mine. I give it freely. If the cub recovers its strength and chooses to flee into the desert then that is just as well. However if he chooses to recognize us a pack then I accept him as a companion and the pack gains in strength from the addition."

The problem with the cub momentarily taken care of, Mendi suggest that the companion's use some of the centipede's chitin to make a box in which to carry the cub, and to spare the rest and any other useful material for further use (armor, weapons, etc.). "Concerning the fur, it is probably impossible to recover it: the cub will probably go mad once more... Perhaps you should look for water around: those animals had to drink..."

Gaigin grimaces and shakes his head, shrugging helplessly. Of all the beasts on Athas, his Pack would chose one of the most fearsome of Desert predators as a pet. Not approaching, Gaigin speaks to Elric.

"Fool that I am, I'll not try to stop ye from taking the beast, though no doubt I'll live to regret it. Understand, though, that as far as I'm considered, the thing is yours. Ye feed it, ye keep it out of trouble, it drinks from yer water, it is yer own responsibility. Know also that yer takin' upon yerself the job of raising one of the wildest of wild beasts...fully grown, that thing would make yer brains leak out yer ears from afar before movin' in to rip out yer throat. Its mother took out a beast that would challenge all of us together, and full-grown, that thing could do as much. If it proves too much trouble, it'll either be released or killed...but I'll not let it remain if it proves a danger to the Pack."

Out of breath and loosing strength fast, Elric hurries into the desert away from the smell of the cub's mothers blood. Kneeling in the desert, the warlock grabs the little tagster by the muzzle and looks into its eyes. "There is no one else, little one. Your mother gave her life that you might live. The choice is yours, you must decide. Gently placing the cub in the sand before him, Elric holds his hand out to his side, compassion in his eyes he looks down at the little tagster. The small cat playfully swiped at Elric's hands trying to shake his muzzle loose. All ferocity was quickly subsided and the tagster lets out a lamenting yowl. Elric leaves him be and walks back to the group not wanting to turn around but praying hard that the cub was at its heels. The kitten licks his teeth and playfully runs into the warlock's boots as it tries to catch up with him. The warlock picks him again and shakes the loose sand from his face as he fetches more erdlu meat for his new friend. <Food is not a problem but what will be do about water…> The thought lingers on Elric's mind as the slap of his waterskin tells him that it was not as full as before and all his eyes saw was sand… hot, gritty, yellow sand…everywhere sand.

THAT NIGHT

After another day of forcing himself across the burning sands of the Alluvial Wastes at a rate he is not used to, Tak’ nearly collapsed onto the dune the party had decided to camp on. The advent of dusk meant the sand beneath Tak’s feet was cooling - meaning he no longer had to keep moving to prevent the blisters on his soles from aggravating further.

Seating himself with a sigh, Tak’ found it hard to concentrate on his usual mental exercises - a combination of exhaustion and minor pains stopping him from achieving inner calm. With a frustrated scowl, Tak’ gave up, content instead to sit quietly by the growing fire, wrapped in his blanket, contemplating how far he has traveled from his homeland - and where his travels might take him still.

He thought of ‘Little Kirre’, the leader of the band of streetkids he had befriended in Tyr. Would Little Kirre have done good with the metal coins he had left him with? It made him feel bitter that he had been reduced to giving children the money he treated as evil. Truly, he could appreciate the poor children of that city with their innocence and joy much better than their arrogant rulers who would let them starve.

Gaigin stumbles into the selected campsite, sheltered by a stony outcropping from the sand-laden wind. After a few minutes rest, he and the rest of the Pack finish their chores, and soon all rest around a blazing fire, eating dried erdlu meat and sipping precious water. Gaigin looks worriedly at Tak', who seems the most exhausted of all the party. A halfling is no creature of the desert.

"Tak, I'm thinkin' we may have a problem. We're behind our competitors, with many days of travellin' ahead of us. And more then one challenge on the way, or I'm Kalak's heir... Ye've performed admirably so far, considerin' yer position. But, though yer keeping up well enough, its obvious yer exhausting yerself in the process. Yer frame's just not meant for desert travel, anymore then Chit's is fer yer own jungle. So, if its not beneath the dignity of a Prince, I'm thinkin' we may have to come up with some kind of system for moving faster." Gaigin thinks for a minute, then shrugs. "The only thing I can think of is we carry you. Yer small enough for me to lift without much problem, and if Rayne can haul me own great bulk around like a rag all day, you'll pose no great problem. Chit and Koreth too could probably manage it, and the 'Kreen in particular would serve admirably...what do the rest of you think?"

Chit-Zik nods. "I was considering the same problem. But I can travel faster and further than any of the pack with ease. My suggestion is one I find horrible to conceive, but it is the only hope for the pack."

"I can hunt the other group. I can catch up with them in a day or two, and then delay them, or find some way to stop them. I can go alone, or take a few of the pack who will travel fast with me."

"If not, I would be willing to carry Tak."

Mendi looked the kreen for a long time, obviously torn between conflicting emotions... He thought <I should go... I can run longer that any of them, and nobody would notice me in this desert... but to run alone with a kreen...> He looked at Chit for a while, and then spoke again: "I will run alongside you, kreen. But don't dare put your bloody mandibles too close like this morning or..."

Chit only clicks his mandibles in some sort of incomprehensible response.

The elf was already making plans thinking out loud, "I think we should run at a distance from each other anyway, at the same level, but with at least 200 yard between us. This way, we are more likely to notice any outriders they might have with them <and I will remain unnoticed that way,> thought the elf. "But we should make our objective clear: what do we intend? To harass them from a distance, pining them one after the other? To ambush them at night? But I'm not sure the two of us would suffice against those half-giant guards... If someone else comes with us who will be able to sustain our pace? Elric? Or perhaps Tak, if the kreen...," Mendi looks hesitant... "carries him on his back..."

The elf trader falls into his fast-talk routine and continues, "The kreen is a good hunter, so with luck we will be able to track them, and to know in advance how far away they are. I think the ambush is a good idea, but we need some more details from you, Rayne. Apart from the two half-giant, the "trader" (Mendi's voice is full of scorn) and the man who had himself called 'Master', who else was in this caravan? How many other guards?"

Rayne is about to answer when the trader ignores her open mouth and goes over to the kreen, and looked him straight in the eyes. "Kreen, I will go with you and trust you. If you fail my trust, there will be no second chance. Now, back to the business at hand: I will need some rest before we ambush them, for this incident with the tagster drained part of my Will. And if you don't need any water, I do, so we need to take that into account: running or not, I'll look for some water when night falls, but there is no need for food: I'll rely on dried meat and dried fruits. We go whenever you are ready."

Ptellac stands up seeing Gaigin start to frown, "Stop! Stop Mendi! Stop talking and listen for a second." The saurian calmly smiles, his white teeth catching the moon's light and deliberately starts at the beginning. He motions to Tak first and slightly bows, "My respects to you, great hunter since I owe you my life more than once but Gaigin is right about slowing us down." He nods towards the air cleric and adds, "Ayrus is in trouble with his water but he was just unprepared for the trip. Many more of us will have the same problem including myself and let me explain why. We are crossing straight west to the scrublands that I call my home although my village is much further south. We have these sandy wastes to cope with and then a smaller stretch of stony barrens. Each of these places is not likely to yield any water but the amount of deserts is relatively small. It took my company 2 days to cross the sandy wastes and 1 day to cross the stony barrens more or less. My 2 gallon water skin was enough to keep my thirst sated for 4 days approximately but I won't make if we continue like this."

The pterran points directly west, "At the present rate we have 2 more days of sandy desert and it will take us 2 days to cross the stony barrens." The saurian looks at everyone in turn, "Who has enough water for four more days of desert travel? I believe that we must cross over to the scrublands as fast as we can and then refill our waterskins even if it means that you Tak, have to be carried."

The halfling silently nods and adds, "So be it. If that is what the pack must do to survive then it shall be done. I am sorry to have put your lives on the line such as this. Tell you what, I will jog along side everyone and when I get tired then I will be carried by someone the rest of the way. That way, I can save some face among such long-legged walkers." Everyone chuckles and accepts the hunter's offer.

Ptellac speaks up again, "Wait, I am not finished yet." He looks toward Chit and Mendi. "What is this about you going ahead and trying to take down a party by yourselves. Let me tell you what I think. Such a party poses no problem to my village and will not get past the guards should they venture too close. I don't know how they are going to find the village since I haven't told anyone in Tyr where it is except that it is in the scrublands beyond the Ringing Mountains. The only ones that such a party poses a threat is to our group here and we would be making it worse if we split up and only making their job easier. They have tried to sabotage our trip twice already and I will bet my foot's claw that they are waiting for us somewhere in the scrublands if they made it that far. Besides, where will you go and look for them? We haven't got a clue except that they are somewhere ahead of us and that is a mighty big place."

The saurian then looks towards Gaigin, "I bow to your leadership since you have come to your senses but I must state my voice against the party splitting up at this time."

The ex-caravan guard now turned leader nods to Ptellac, "I be thinkin' there's wisdom in yer words. The decision is that no one splits up at this time. We will discuss this issue again tomorrow if there are any objections." (DM note: Sorry to make the temporary decision but, of course, discussion may re spark again.)

The night's sleep was recomforting to most except for a certain character who kept getting up due to loud yowls and painful wails throughout the night. The small tagster finally huddled up to Elric and cuddled up to sleep tired from the day's ordeal.

Expedition Day 12 - Year of the Desert's Fury of the 190th King's Age (Free Year 11)

Alluvial Sand Wastes - Somewhere in the Hinterlands

The bird's eye view of the situation was strange almost comical to say the least. A series of dots strung out over a long line over a yellow-white canvas. The scouts at spear point never got quite close to each other and it wasn't necessarily that they had orders to remain separate. The elven trader steered well away from the kreen druid each one taking one of the flanks but never quite leaving the rest of the companions out of sight. They would run ahead of the rest trying to fathom what was in store for the group. The elf silent and well camouflaged in his loose clothing and the kreen who's natural chitin blended well in the desert did their job admirably.

The rest of the group remained more or less together. Gaigin, the ex-caravan guard helping himself with his makeshift spear (DM note: Polonious, please describe how Gaigin fitted one of the megapede's appendages onto the stick and what an awesome weapon that makes.). Koreth, the noble warrior with his still large backpack; his bone helmet held back and ready to be worn into battle. The female mul, who everyonce in a while would caress the dark leather bag at her waist. Ayrus went off to one side chatting amiably with the pterran trader. The windmage realized his mistake and promised to get himself another waterskin should they go out into the desert again; as it was, he did not think that his companions would object to his drinking their water but stories had been told of people gone crazy over the precious fluid out in the sandy wastes.

The last two brought up the rear. Tak was jogging this morning and his small frame had sustained the extra work well so far but he knew that he must come to his senses and accept being carried. Rayne had volunteered to take him along first as she had done so with Gaigin a few days back. Elric walked along with a long stick, prodding the rebellious cat after him. The small tagster could keep up well enough until it got tired or distracted. Elric would wait for him until they lagged a bit and then the warlock would pick him up and catch up with the rest of the group.

The sand was particularly loose in this part of the wastes but the ground covered so far was much more than they had covered the previous days. The sun still had not reached its zenith but the air was already stifling hot; it would be another scorcher and would do much harm to their diminishing water supplies. If it was anything like yesterday where even the expert desert travelers had to drink more than their usual amount of lukewarm water, they may have to stop when the sun was strongest.

Mendi had come across some strange continuous mounds on his running and stopped to have a closer look. It seemed like the ground had been disturbed from underneath leaving tracks like those desert worms that he heard some many tales out in the tablelands. Those worms were said to swim underneath the loose sand and be able to swallow a whole erdland in one bite. <Well,> the elf thought to himself, <the tracks are not that big if that is what they are. I will go and tell Tak or Ptellac to see what they make out of it.>

A strange sound caught the elf's attention and he turned around to see its source. The elf remained motionless, sweat drops collecting on his turban, and watched the unfolding scene with terror in his eyes. One of those tracks was being made right in front of his eyes and the sand being displaced bespoke of some rather large animal. The trader waited for the track to pass by in front of him leaving him with plenty of space to run towards his companions. As soon as the opening was left, he made a run for it. Slender legs pumping up and down, the elf ate up the ground but his feet sunk deep into the sand as he ran. Another sand track joined in his direction heading straight for him.

The elf zig-zagged but could not shake his pursuer loose; then he saw it. Mendi screamed as the sand shark emerged from the ground. Short sparse hairs covered its wrinkled pink skin along the entire length of its sausage-shaped body, from broad nose to long rat-like tail. A closer look revealed a blunt, strong head, four powerful shovel-like feet, and a mouth filled with razor-like teeth. Its teeth curved inward and were all of equal length, specially designed for biting off chunks at a time. Its 10-foot long body appeared in a spray of sand and its immense teeth filled jaw opened letting loose a fetid breath. Its forward thrust brought it right on top of the elf who dove desperately to the side. The sand shark missed the elf and continued its thrust. The ground opened up again and swallowed the predator whole with only a pile of sand left to mark the trail.

The elf reached his companions screaming for help with two monsters in hot pursuit. The kreen druid was running towards the group from the opposite direction as four distinct sand trails were doing their very best to try and catch him…

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 (H)

Chit (H)

Elric (H)

Gaigin (H)

Koreth (H)

Mendi (H)

Rayne (H)

Tak (H)

Ptellac (H)

TAGSTER

John (excellent roleplaying BTW) since Elric is taking care of the cat: it has 4 hp, 3 attacks when cornered claw/claw/bite (1/1/1-2) and has the capacity of a 1^st level psionicist. I have broken up his growing stage into 6 equal parts over a 2 year period and the cat is 4 months old (1^st stage complete). I will give you more details later on but don't even think of training him to attack at this moment. It eats and rinks 1/4 gallon of water everyday. It also needs a name…

GENERAL

It's a combat turn so you know the drill. Actions for 2 rounds, please.

WATER SITUATION at the end of the 11th day

Questions, comments, and suggestions please.

L8r,

Fabian