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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Walking Dad" data-source="post: 5084735" data-attributes="member: 59043">[sblock=@GM]You remember: The air was thick with the smell of burning caravan. The enormous house-sized wagon had met its end in the deep desert, and wood, leather, dead bodies, and anything else not valuable enough to carry away now joined together in a crackling bonfire. Athas's coppery sun, slipping behind the western horizon, tinted the roiling column of smoke bloody red.Their brightly colored cloaks and shirts and loose, blousy pants of the victorios elves flapped gaily as they spun and danced in the flickering light, and their voices rose in laughter and song.You got just away with the things you had on your body when the elves attacked. Wandering nearly aimless (you know a carvan outpost near here, but it is owned by another merchant house, but perhaps...) with some other guards (who somehow gave you not little credit for the disaster), you spotted some other shapes.Before you could say anything, Raluk called: "Hey, you, come over here!" They wear leather armor and carrying some weapons, and... water. They somehow have gotten some water![/sblock]The former guards consist of two muls, three humans and (perhaps, it's sometimes hard to tell) one half-elf. They wear either leather or bone armor, and carry different slashing weapons. One has a bow.</blockquote>