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Al-Qarin: Into the Desert (3-1-24)
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<blockquote data-quote="EternalNewbie" data-source="post: 5435699" data-attributes="member: 6489"><p>Khalid jerked awake. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but after the events of the last two days he was physically and mentally exhausted. Forcing the confusion from his mind, he glanced around for the sound of the noise that roused him when Gorak's head appeared through the entrance. Gripping the edge of the portal, he hauled himself up and pulled in the rope.</p><p></p><p>Azarek, leaning back against the boundary of the dimension, pushed his helm up from over his eyes with his finger. “So who wuz they?” he rasped.</p><p></p><p>“Nomads,” Gorak grunted. “From the far north, judging by their dress.”</p><p></p><p>“They gonna be a problem?” Azarek asked.</p><p></p><p>“Not fer us. Looks like they're setting up for some sort of ritual. There's maybe thirty of 'em. They had guards posted, so I didn't risk getting close. Whatever they're doing, they're serious about it.” Azarek grunted and, not seeing the need for further discussion, pulled up his bedroll and promptly went to sleep.</p><p></p><p>They broke camp late after Gorak had thoroughly scouted the area. Khalid was more than a little relieved when he returned to report that the nomads had moved on. Out of idle curiosity, they ventured past the site of the abandoned camp, which wasn't hard to find. A large patch of grass, about fifteen feet across had been burned away. Embers were still glowing amid the piles of ash and charred wood. The purpose of the fire became immediately apparent as Azarek sifted through the debris with the toe of his boot, uncovering a bit of charred bone.</p><p></p><p>“Funeral pyre,” he rasped.</p><p></p><p>“Wonder why they came this far south?” Gorak rumbled.</p><p></p><p>“Ah, yes, well, I doubt we'll ever know,” Khalid replied. Out of habit, Shayla muttered a few words under her breath and dragged her fingers across her eyes.</p><p></p><p>“Whut ave we 'ere,” Azarek rasped, bending down and brushing aside some of the ash. “Well now, whoever he wuz, I don't figure he's gonna get much use out of this no more.”</p><p></p><p>“Wait a minute,” Shayla cautioned, just as Azarek pulled free a long hand and a half sword from the remnants of the pyre.</p><p></p><p>“Gah!” Azarek cursed, flinging the blade aside. “Bloody hell, that just ain't right.” His normal pallor seemed a shade lighter.</p><p></p><p>“I tried to warn you,” Shayla said. “That thing is magical.”</p><p></p><p>“I don't give a good gods damn what it is,” he growled. “But I sure as shyte know why they burned it with him.”</p><p></p><p>Khalid took the opportunity to study the weapon, being careful not to touch it. The blade was unremarkable, save that it seemed completely untouched by its recent immolation. Well over three feet long, it bore no signs of use, and looked razor sharp. The hilt however, was more then a little disturbing. It appeared to be carved from a single piece of bone, whether human or animal. Khalid couldn't tell. Etched into it were humanoid figures, bearing expressions of indescribable agony and suffering.</p><p></p><p>“It could be powerful,” Shayla continued.</p><p></p><p>“I don't care,” Azarek rasped. “That thing don't like me and I don't like it.” He paused to wipe his hand on his cloak. “ I ain't touching it again.”</p><p></p><p>Although more than a little curious, Khalid couldn't help but agree. “Ah, yes, it could be quite, yes, quite dangerous. And if Azarek has no interest in it, the weapon itself would do the rest of us little good.” </p><p></p><p>“I'm good with that,” Gorak grunted. “We don't need another distraction.”</p><p></p><p>Somewhat uncharacteristically, Shayla let the matter drop without another word and they resumed travelling. Several uneventful days passed, and the terrain gradually became a little less bleak as they headed southwest. Khalid took advantage of the relative calm to complete his analysis of several unusual items they had acquired upon their travels. Crushing the black pearl with the hilt of his knife, he began to chant, sprinkling the dust in the air. The powder began to sparkle and glow, drawn toward the magic emanating from the items in front of him. Slowly, the magical weaves were revealed in a detail that far surpassed that of a simple detection spell. He studied them closely, his mind working to unravel the mystery of their function. After several long hours, he leaned back against the boundary of the pocket dimension with a satisfied sigh.</p><p></p><p>Looking up to find the others staring at him curiously, he gestured at the equipment in front of him and began to explain. “Ah, yes, having recently acquired the final component of one of my more useful, yes, useful divinations, I have unlocked the secrets of several things we have taken from our vanquished foes.” He pointed at the dagger they had acquired from the gnoll assassin sent after them by Malakai, who had met his end in the snowy reaches of the mountain pass. “The dagger, although it appears to be metal, is something else entirely. Hilt and blade are a single, yes, single piece which I suspect was carved from the fang of some giant creature, perhaps a serpent or spider. The magic has made it harder, yes, harder than steel.”</p><p></p><p>“Not too shabby,” Azarek rasped.</p><p></p><p>“Ah, yes, indeed,” Khalid said. “But that is not all. The magic also has also preserves and rejuvenates a venom gland contained within the hilt. When the command word is spoken, the blade will inject a deadly toxin into your opponent.”</p><p></p><p>“The Dwerro war hammer,” he continued. “Is a particularly powerful item. Ah, although I have little knowledge of these things, I judge it to be of unparallelled craftsmanship.” He glanced at Azarek, who nodded. “The magic bears the burden of its weight for the wielder, making it feel extraordinarily light, while still delivering punishing blows. Ah, although I do not have a scale, I suspect it is at least twice as heavy as an ordinary hammer, but feels like it weighs half as much. And if that were not sufficient, when a command word is spoken, the hammer becomes infused with magic, delivering a concussion blast upon contact, sufficient to render most creatures senseless.”</p><p></p><p>“Nice,” Gorak grunted. “Yer damn lucky that little basterd din't clip you with it back at Caer Morag.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes, quite,” Khalid agreed.</p><p></p><p>“What about the stuff we took off that boy?” Shayla asked quietly.</p><p></p><p>“Ah, most unusual items, both of them.” Khalid replied. “Although I have no idea where he would have acquired them out here, I find it hard to believe he possessed the ability to craft them.” He lifted up the staff, balancing it easily in the palm of his hand. “The staff is the means by which the boy controlled the birds. A murder of ravens has been bound to it, allowing the wielder to summon them at will. In addition, it grants the bearer minor prescience in combat, flashes of insight which aid in parrying blows.”</p><p></p><p>“And of course,” he continued. “I have saved the best for last, yes quite. The cloak has only a single function. Once every twenty-four hours, for as long as an hour, it will transform its wearer into a raven and back again.”</p><p></p><p>“Useful,” Gorak grunted. “Now who gets what?”</p><p></p><p>“The hammer is of little use to any of us save Azarek,” Khalid replied, and seeing no objection from Shayla or Gorak, passed it over to him.</p><p></p><p>“I'll take that staff,” Gorak rumbled. “It ain't no cudgel, but it'll free up my hands for casting. Khalid passed it over to him.</p><p></p><p>“Ah, as both Gorak and I possess the means to fly, the Shayla should take the cloak. It's power will provide a potent means of defense and escape, yes quite.” He passed it over to her, and she pulled it around her shoulders, fastening the golden clasp at the neck. The jet black feathers seemed to make her pale complexion almost luminous in the dim light.</p><p></p><p>“The dagger is yours then,” Gorak grunted to Khalid.</p><p></p><p>Khalid shrugged. “Ah, since I place the odds of poisoning any foe I attempt to use it on roughly equal to the odds of poisoning myself with it, I think Azarek should take that as well. He slid the blade into its sheath and passed it over to him, hilt first.</p><p></p><p>Their ill gotten gains divided, they turned in for the night. Some hours later, a sound that haunted Khalid's nightmares shocked him awake. Half asleep, he fumbled around frantically, until his fingers closed on the worn leather cover of his spellbook, still tucked within the rucksack beneath his head. Gorak lay still beside him, and without having to look, Azarek's rumbling snore indicated he was still asleep. Rolling over he looked around for the source of the rustling paper that had disturbed his slumber. Sitting some distance away from them was Shayla, knees drawn up to her chest, holding a book in her hands. Fairly certain that it wasn't one of his, he squinted in the dim light, trying to make out what she was reading. Then it dawned on him. Shayla had kept the boy sorcerer's diary, although to what end, he wasn't sure. Sensing his scrutiny, Shayla glanced up and met his gaze, holding it for an instant before returning to her reading. Bothered without really knowing why, Khalid closed his eyes and tried to fall back to sleep but it was a long time in coming. When Gorak roused him with the toe of his boot, he felt as though he'd barely slept at all.</p><p></p><p>The following days passed in a blur of travel. They rode hard from dawn until dusk, climbing into Khalid's shelter long enough to sleep before setting out again. A smudge of green to the west gradually swelled until it filled the horizon, growing in size until individual trees were evident. Gorak's assessment proved unpleasantly true; unlike the pruned glades to the south, this was a proper forest, filled with ancient gnarled trees packed close together and thick, unyielding undergrowth that hampered their travel. Less then an hour after they passed the first stunted tree, they were forced south by the dense brush, to seek out the road running north from Caer Morag. That night, they set up their camp, as it were, on a small rise overlooking the road.</p><p></p><p>The next morning dawned clear and bright, and even though it was only early morning, Khalid could tell it was going to be unpleasantly warm. Mounting up, they rode down into the shallow valley, picking the road and heading north. Soon the sun was visible only as shafts of light filtering down through the branches above and they were enveloped in the cool gloom of the forest. All around them were the sounds of the forest. The inhabitants of the woods were seemingly unconcerned with their presence, but still Khalid couldn't help but feel something sinister lurked behind every bole and branch, watching and waiting.</p><p></p><p>Gorak, choosing a more suitable form, dropped to all fours and loped off into the trees, disappearing from sight. Although some attempt had been made to clear back the trees from the road in the not too distant past, the forest it seemed, was winning the battle, closing in around the road. Khalid sighed and huddled deeper into his robes.</p><p></p><p>“What is it?” Shayla asked.</p><p></p><p>“Ah, I do not care for this place,” Khalid muttered. “I prefer my trees pressed, bound and covered with ink. Yes, quite.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, I can't imagine the Dwerro like it any better than you do. I don't see them having too many skilled woodsman among their ranks, so I bet we don't have to worry about them in here.”</p><p></p><p>“Ah, yes, small comfort I should think.”</p><p></p><p>Despite Khalid's unease, they were not disturbed by any denizens of the forest during their first day on the road. Consulting the map over dinner, they estimated it would take at least three more days travel to reach village marked upon the map at the centre of the woods, and possibly two more days to put the forest behind them after that.</p><p></p><p>It was late on the second day on the road, when Gorak bounded from the trees and shifted from his lupine form.</p><p></p><p>“That can't be good,” Shayla muttered.</p><p></p><p>“Never is,” Azarek rasped.</p><p></p><p>“Better get yer game face on,” Gorak growled. “I spotted a coupla bodies on the road up ahead, near what I'm guessing is a bunkhouse for folks travelling through the woods.”</p><p></p><p>“Recent?” Shayla asked.</p><p></p><p>“I din't get close enough to tell,” Gorak replied.</p><p></p><p>Belting on his shield, Azarek unstrapped the Dwerro war hammer from his saddle and laid it across his knees. Nudging his horse forward, he took up the lead with Khalid and Shayla trailing behind. Gorak, drifting into the trees, paced them while staying out of sight.</p><p></p><p>Even though the brush had been cleared away from the road, the thick trees limited visibility to a few dozen feet ahead. Khalid fiddled nervously with the spell components at his waist, anticipating any manner of foe lurking in the cool shadows of the forest. He strained his ears for any sound of an ambush, but the sounds of the woods betrayed nothing unusual. After a few tense minutes, they rode into a large clearing around wooden building.</p><p></p><p>The trees here had been cut back fifty feet in all directions around the single room structure. Old stumps poked up through the long grass, and like the rest of the road, it seemed as though no one had been maintaining it recently. The log building seemed well constructed, with a stout door and shuttered windows, although the roof over one corner sagged ominously.</p><p></p><p>It was immediately apparent that some sort of struggle had taken place here. The grass around the side of the building was blackened, radiating out from a point near the corner closest to them. Four bodies lay on the ground in the centre of the circle. Inspecting them from a distance revealed little to Khalid, so badly damaged were the corpses. They were obviously humanoid, five or six feet tall, but that was all he could discern from the edge of the clearing.</p><p></p><p>Scanning the trees warily, Azarek hefted the war hammer and urged his mount forward with his knees. Khalid and Shayla edged apart a little, watching him from the tree line. Azarek continued down the road until he was in the centre of the glade and then stopped, waiting. After a few moments, Gorak stepped out of the trees across from them “Looks clear,” he growled.</p><p></p><p>Breathing a sigh of relief, Khalid rode up to join Azarek, who hung his shield on his saddlehorn and dismounted. Muttering a few arcane words, Khalid checked the area for arcane weaves, but found nothing out of the ordinary. He clambered off his horse and moved closer to the bodies.</p><p></p><p>Gorak walked over beside Azarek. “Pretty good ambush,” he rumbled.</p><p></p><p>“Ayuh,” Azarek grunted.</p><p></p><p>“Ah, how can you tell?” Khalid asked.</p><p></p><p>“Weapons are still sheathed,” Gorak growled. “It was over before they knew what hit 'em.”</p><p></p><p>“Fire?” Khalid asked, surveying the scene.</p><p></p><p>“I don't think so,” Shayla replied, kneeling down and pulling up a handful of sod. “This grass isn't burned, it's...” she paused, a frown creasing her features, “dried up is the best I can figure.”</p><p></p><p>Gorak grunted in agreement from where he was inspecting the fallen. “The bodies ain't burned neither. They're mummified. Like they been out in the desert for a month. The metal is fine, but their clothes are the same.”</p><p></p><p>“You think that's off,” Azarek rasped. “Lookit this.” He reached over and grabbed the corner of the sagging cabin. Without even trying, he tore free a fist sized chunk of wood from one of the beams. Closing his fist, it crumbled into dust at his touch.</p><p></p><p>With a growl, Gorak voiced the question that they were all thinking. “So whut in the nine hells happened here?”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="EternalNewbie, post: 5435699, member: 6489"] Khalid jerked awake. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but after the events of the last two days he was physically and mentally exhausted. Forcing the confusion from his mind, he glanced around for the sound of the noise that roused him when Gorak's head appeared through the entrance. Gripping the edge of the portal, he hauled himself up and pulled in the rope. Azarek, leaning back against the boundary of the dimension, pushed his helm up from over his eyes with his finger. “So who wuz they?” he rasped. “Nomads,” Gorak grunted. “From the far north, judging by their dress.” “They gonna be a problem?” Azarek asked. “Not fer us. Looks like they're setting up for some sort of ritual. There's maybe thirty of 'em. They had guards posted, so I didn't risk getting close. Whatever they're doing, they're serious about it.” Azarek grunted and, not seeing the need for further discussion, pulled up his bedroll and promptly went to sleep. They broke camp late after Gorak had thoroughly scouted the area. Khalid was more than a little relieved when he returned to report that the nomads had moved on. Out of idle curiosity, they ventured past the site of the abandoned camp, which wasn't hard to find. A large patch of grass, about fifteen feet across had been burned away. Embers were still glowing amid the piles of ash and charred wood. The purpose of the fire became immediately apparent as Azarek sifted through the debris with the toe of his boot, uncovering a bit of charred bone. “Funeral pyre,” he rasped. “Wonder why they came this far south?” Gorak rumbled. “Ah, yes, well, I doubt we'll ever know,” Khalid replied. Out of habit, Shayla muttered a few words under her breath and dragged her fingers across her eyes. “Whut ave we 'ere,” Azarek rasped, bending down and brushing aside some of the ash. “Well now, whoever he wuz, I don't figure he's gonna get much use out of this no more.” “Wait a minute,” Shayla cautioned, just as Azarek pulled free a long hand and a half sword from the remnants of the pyre. “Gah!” Azarek cursed, flinging the blade aside. “Bloody hell, that just ain't right.” His normal pallor seemed a shade lighter. “I tried to warn you,” Shayla said. “That thing is magical.” “I don't give a good gods damn what it is,” he growled. “But I sure as shyte know why they burned it with him.” Khalid took the opportunity to study the weapon, being careful not to touch it. The blade was unremarkable, save that it seemed completely untouched by its recent immolation. Well over three feet long, it bore no signs of use, and looked razor sharp. The hilt however, was more then a little disturbing. It appeared to be carved from a single piece of bone, whether human or animal. Khalid couldn't tell. Etched into it were humanoid figures, bearing expressions of indescribable agony and suffering. “It could be powerful,” Shayla continued. “I don't care,” Azarek rasped. “That thing don't like me and I don't like it.” He paused to wipe his hand on his cloak. “ I ain't touching it again.” Although more than a little curious, Khalid couldn't help but agree. “Ah, yes, it could be quite, yes, quite dangerous. And if Azarek has no interest in it, the weapon itself would do the rest of us little good.” “I'm good with that,” Gorak grunted. “We don't need another distraction.” Somewhat uncharacteristically, Shayla let the matter drop without another word and they resumed travelling. Several uneventful days passed, and the terrain gradually became a little less bleak as they headed southwest. Khalid took advantage of the relative calm to complete his analysis of several unusual items they had acquired upon their travels. Crushing the black pearl with the hilt of his knife, he began to chant, sprinkling the dust in the air. The powder began to sparkle and glow, drawn toward the magic emanating from the items in front of him. Slowly, the magical weaves were revealed in a detail that far surpassed that of a simple detection spell. He studied them closely, his mind working to unravel the mystery of their function. After several long hours, he leaned back against the boundary of the pocket dimension with a satisfied sigh. Looking up to find the others staring at him curiously, he gestured at the equipment in front of him and began to explain. “Ah, yes, having recently acquired the final component of one of my more useful, yes, useful divinations, I have unlocked the secrets of several things we have taken from our vanquished foes.” He pointed at the dagger they had acquired from the gnoll assassin sent after them by Malakai, who had met his end in the snowy reaches of the mountain pass. “The dagger, although it appears to be metal, is something else entirely. Hilt and blade are a single, yes, single piece which I suspect was carved from the fang of some giant creature, perhaps a serpent or spider. The magic has made it harder, yes, harder than steel.” “Not too shabby,” Azarek rasped. “Ah, yes, indeed,” Khalid said. “But that is not all. The magic also has also preserves and rejuvenates a venom gland contained within the hilt. When the command word is spoken, the blade will inject a deadly toxin into your opponent.” “The Dwerro war hammer,” he continued. “Is a particularly powerful item. Ah, although I have little knowledge of these things, I judge it to be of unparallelled craftsmanship.” He glanced at Azarek, who nodded. “The magic bears the burden of its weight for the wielder, making it feel extraordinarily light, while still delivering punishing blows. Ah, although I do not have a scale, I suspect it is at least twice as heavy as an ordinary hammer, but feels like it weighs half as much. And if that were not sufficient, when a command word is spoken, the hammer becomes infused with magic, delivering a concussion blast upon contact, sufficient to render most creatures senseless.” “Nice,” Gorak grunted. “Yer damn lucky that little basterd din't clip you with it back at Caer Morag.” “Yes, quite,” Khalid agreed. “What about the stuff we took off that boy?” Shayla asked quietly. “Ah, most unusual items, both of them.” Khalid replied. “Although I have no idea where he would have acquired them out here, I find it hard to believe he possessed the ability to craft them.” He lifted up the staff, balancing it easily in the palm of his hand. “The staff is the means by which the boy controlled the birds. A murder of ravens has been bound to it, allowing the wielder to summon them at will. In addition, it grants the bearer minor prescience in combat, flashes of insight which aid in parrying blows.” “And of course,” he continued. “I have saved the best for last, yes quite. The cloak has only a single function. Once every twenty-four hours, for as long as an hour, it will transform its wearer into a raven and back again.” “Useful,” Gorak grunted. “Now who gets what?” “The hammer is of little use to any of us save Azarek,” Khalid replied, and seeing no objection from Shayla or Gorak, passed it over to him. “I'll take that staff,” Gorak rumbled. “It ain't no cudgel, but it'll free up my hands for casting. Khalid passed it over to him. “Ah, as both Gorak and I possess the means to fly, the Shayla should take the cloak. It's power will provide a potent means of defense and escape, yes quite.” He passed it over to her, and she pulled it around her shoulders, fastening the golden clasp at the neck. The jet black feathers seemed to make her pale complexion almost luminous in the dim light. “The dagger is yours then,” Gorak grunted to Khalid. Khalid shrugged. “Ah, since I place the odds of poisoning any foe I attempt to use it on roughly equal to the odds of poisoning myself with it, I think Azarek should take that as well. He slid the blade into its sheath and passed it over to him, hilt first. Their ill gotten gains divided, they turned in for the night. Some hours later, a sound that haunted Khalid's nightmares shocked him awake. Half asleep, he fumbled around frantically, until his fingers closed on the worn leather cover of his spellbook, still tucked within the rucksack beneath his head. Gorak lay still beside him, and without having to look, Azarek's rumbling snore indicated he was still asleep. Rolling over he looked around for the source of the rustling paper that had disturbed his slumber. Sitting some distance away from them was Shayla, knees drawn up to her chest, holding a book in her hands. Fairly certain that it wasn't one of his, he squinted in the dim light, trying to make out what she was reading. Then it dawned on him. Shayla had kept the boy sorcerer's diary, although to what end, he wasn't sure. Sensing his scrutiny, Shayla glanced up and met his gaze, holding it for an instant before returning to her reading. Bothered without really knowing why, Khalid closed his eyes and tried to fall back to sleep but it was a long time in coming. When Gorak roused him with the toe of his boot, he felt as though he'd barely slept at all. The following days passed in a blur of travel. They rode hard from dawn until dusk, climbing into Khalid's shelter long enough to sleep before setting out again. A smudge of green to the west gradually swelled until it filled the horizon, growing in size until individual trees were evident. Gorak's assessment proved unpleasantly true; unlike the pruned glades to the south, this was a proper forest, filled with ancient gnarled trees packed close together and thick, unyielding undergrowth that hampered their travel. Less then an hour after they passed the first stunted tree, they were forced south by the dense brush, to seek out the road running north from Caer Morag. That night, they set up their camp, as it were, on a small rise overlooking the road. The next morning dawned clear and bright, and even though it was only early morning, Khalid could tell it was going to be unpleasantly warm. Mounting up, they rode down into the shallow valley, picking the road and heading north. Soon the sun was visible only as shafts of light filtering down through the branches above and they were enveloped in the cool gloom of the forest. All around them were the sounds of the forest. The inhabitants of the woods were seemingly unconcerned with their presence, but still Khalid couldn't help but feel something sinister lurked behind every bole and branch, watching and waiting. Gorak, choosing a more suitable form, dropped to all fours and loped off into the trees, disappearing from sight. Although some attempt had been made to clear back the trees from the road in the not too distant past, the forest it seemed, was winning the battle, closing in around the road. Khalid sighed and huddled deeper into his robes. “What is it?” Shayla asked. “Ah, I do not care for this place,” Khalid muttered. “I prefer my trees pressed, bound and covered with ink. Yes, quite.” “Well, I can't imagine the Dwerro like it any better than you do. I don't see them having too many skilled woodsman among their ranks, so I bet we don't have to worry about them in here.” “Ah, yes, small comfort I should think.” Despite Khalid's unease, they were not disturbed by any denizens of the forest during their first day on the road. Consulting the map over dinner, they estimated it would take at least three more days travel to reach village marked upon the map at the centre of the woods, and possibly two more days to put the forest behind them after that. It was late on the second day on the road, when Gorak bounded from the trees and shifted from his lupine form. “That can't be good,” Shayla muttered. “Never is,” Azarek rasped. “Better get yer game face on,” Gorak growled. “I spotted a coupla bodies on the road up ahead, near what I'm guessing is a bunkhouse for folks travelling through the woods.” “Recent?” Shayla asked. “I din't get close enough to tell,” Gorak replied. Belting on his shield, Azarek unstrapped the Dwerro war hammer from his saddle and laid it across his knees. Nudging his horse forward, he took up the lead with Khalid and Shayla trailing behind. Gorak, drifting into the trees, paced them while staying out of sight. Even though the brush had been cleared away from the road, the thick trees limited visibility to a few dozen feet ahead. Khalid fiddled nervously with the spell components at his waist, anticipating any manner of foe lurking in the cool shadows of the forest. He strained his ears for any sound of an ambush, but the sounds of the woods betrayed nothing unusual. After a few tense minutes, they rode into a large clearing around wooden building. The trees here had been cut back fifty feet in all directions around the single room structure. Old stumps poked up through the long grass, and like the rest of the road, it seemed as though no one had been maintaining it recently. The log building seemed well constructed, with a stout door and shuttered windows, although the roof over one corner sagged ominously. It was immediately apparent that some sort of struggle had taken place here. The grass around the side of the building was blackened, radiating out from a point near the corner closest to them. Four bodies lay on the ground in the centre of the circle. Inspecting them from a distance revealed little to Khalid, so badly damaged were the corpses. They were obviously humanoid, five or six feet tall, but that was all he could discern from the edge of the clearing. Scanning the trees warily, Azarek hefted the war hammer and urged his mount forward with his knees. Khalid and Shayla edged apart a little, watching him from the tree line. Azarek continued down the road until he was in the centre of the glade and then stopped, waiting. After a few moments, Gorak stepped out of the trees across from them “Looks clear,” he growled. Breathing a sigh of relief, Khalid rode up to join Azarek, who hung his shield on his saddlehorn and dismounted. Muttering a few arcane words, Khalid checked the area for arcane weaves, but found nothing out of the ordinary. He clambered off his horse and moved closer to the bodies. Gorak walked over beside Azarek. “Pretty good ambush,” he rumbled. “Ayuh,” Azarek grunted. “Ah, how can you tell?” Khalid asked. “Weapons are still sheathed,” Gorak growled. “It was over before they knew what hit 'em.” “Fire?” Khalid asked, surveying the scene. “I don't think so,” Shayla replied, kneeling down and pulling up a handful of sod. “This grass isn't burned, it's...” she paused, a frown creasing her features, “dried up is the best I can figure.” Gorak grunted in agreement from where he was inspecting the fallen. “The bodies ain't burned neither. They're mummified. Like they been out in the desert for a month. The metal is fine, but their clothes are the same.” “You think that's off,” Azarek rasped. “Lookit this.” He reached over and grabbed the corner of the sagging cabin. Without even trying, he tore free a fist sized chunk of wood from one of the beams. Closing his fist, it crumbled into dust at his touch. With a growl, Gorak voiced the question that they were all thinking. “So whut in the nine hells happened here?” [/QUOTE]
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Al-Qarin: Into the Desert (3-1-24)
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