Nomadic
hospitality
3/15/10,121 - Broken Lands
Frustrated & unsure of the intentions of the herders intentions Kilite starts to backs away, as he does so however an older nomad afoot makes his way through the high grass & shouts to his pensive countryman not to be so ready to kill any one who farts less than a cow.
In haltering tongues pleasantries are exchanged & the elder, Hakan Elcharka, offers a meal for news of the false world beyond the steppes & a chance to trade trinkets. Joining the herders train the evening stop is soon called & very soon numerous tents are erected & the smell of a hundred fires fed on dried cow shit drifts across the camp. Water is provided for the groups mounts & a tent is set aside for their use, the four marvel at its simplicity yet it contains they could need, a separate sleeping area on a raised dais, a low table, rugs & cushions & a plentiful supply of fresh fruit to quench their pallet. There is some reluctance concerning Gunter, eventually however it to is made comfortable & picketed for the night.
Sitting around the fragrant fires that evening the group are welcomed as honoured guests & offered drink & food, Kilite accepts a flat bowl of a piquant brew & after several minutes of trying not to die is advised that he has now drunk the tribes most precious gift, a distillate of cows spit & milk. He is also told that not only is it a powerful drink it also makes an excellent anaesthetic.
The entertainment is interesting but talk of trade is kept at bay until the honey-laden dumplings at the meals end are consumed, even then however Hakan feigns disinterest. Illyra takes a hand in relaxing the mood of those around the fire by liberal distribution of her precious supply of Wolfsbane, which renders those who partake into fits of giggles.
Eventually a deal is struck & the clan exchange two small lightweight but sturdy wagons for the larger heavy wagon & four of their hornbull team. Again the milky brew is drunk to settle the deal & Illyra exchanges a finely wrought silver torc for a sizable skein of the milky liquid as well as several days worth of salt dried strips of beef to her belongings.
To a word of caution from Tharla, Molin wanders away from the main fire & despite the language barrier makes several new friends particularly when he manages to assist one chap by deftly reseating the blade of a fine skinning knife which was broken.
With slightly dazed expressions the four emerge the following morning, 4/15/10,121, Hakan greets them cordially, he inspects the cattle & makes his selection. The friends newly acquired wagons have raised sides with a water proofed skin roof, which can be drawn back to allow for cooking & cleaning. The wagons also have small stoves on a stone heart stone, sleeping pallets & spare wheel.
As the herders slowly move away Illyra argues for Brev, her town of birth, wishing to seek out a mage or priest who can regrow her missing limb, the others somewhat unsure of allowing the pursuers to regain their trail suggest that surely Kest-I-Mond, most powerful sorcerer that he is, could assist in this matter.
With this in mind Illyra is persuaded & they alter their course, again cross the line of the Quincunx & drop South of Brev. Molin continues to put his falcon to good use & four strange but small but fat & hairy piggish type creatures are soon gutted & ready for the pot. Striking camp later that day the air is distinctly colder & a biting wind is driving out of the West. The high grass of the plains is soon left behind & a sulphurous odour permeates the air. As darkness settles the distant lights of Brev can be seen on the horizon, a second glow can faintly be seen towards Samadum but slowly it dawns on the four that it is moving & is above the horizon, for several of them it is their first sighting of the infamous sky city. Sat around their meagre fire an attempt is made to identify the flask, which they carry at such apparent risk, the pot itself radiates a healthy dose of protective magic however Erimmes barely registers a trace. Again Erimmes is quizzed about the legendry city of Athalau but little new knowledge is forthcoming, Tharla does note that, if such a thing is possible, Erimmes seemed somewhat more substantial than that last time he was questioned.
During the night the party are awoken by a low rumble & vibration in the dirt, but nothing can be seen.
Sunrise brings yet more frozen winds & a light covering of snow.
Kilite, poring over their map & directions given, sits back & confidently suggests that they are within only half a days journey of Kest-I-Mond's tower, with this in mind they push on wishing to rid of the burden of the flask & looking forward to collecting their hard earned silver.
As midday passes a structure can be seen in the distance off to right, Molin unable to wait urges Gunther to the gallop, leaving the wagons to follow. Approaching & circling the compound wall Molin gets an uneasy feeling, particularly when he can see the stout wooden gates through which they must enter are shattered. Not waiting for the others, weapon drawn, Molin pads through the gate taking in the scene around him, the compound is in disarray, half starved pigs & goats run towards him hoping to be fed & watered, as the others ride into the yard there is a realisation that no warm welcome awaits.