Camel Hide Satchel anyone...?

I swear I am going to turn this overstuffed walking leather-bag into a toad! We had barely set out from Kalmarane for Kapesh when a dark shadow crossed our path!

Well, we’d gone far enough that the thriving city was a mere speck in the distance, so, a good day’s ride. This shadow spooked the camels, mine heading for home at a good gallop, taking me a good city block before digging in her hooves and refusing to budge! No amount of cajoling nor tugging on the strong hemp reins would budge the blighter!

I guess I can’t blame him – her? As I tugged on the reins, my backside to the party, which were a long way off, I heard a roar that sent shivers along my spine and froze Puitho, (the name I have newly-dubbed THIS camel!) Twirling around my face contorted in a mix of horror and admiration, gasping as I watched the magnificent dark-blue dragon pull from the earth itself, the rumble quivering the sand beneath my feet.

Fear for my husband and our party who were face to face with this roaring hulking beast at my friends, had my fingers knitting the fireball and guiding it’s tiny light behind the beast’s neck before it had cleared the sand. I turned before it exploded, knowing its flight would be exact; I pressed my hands upon my hips. “Now listen here, Puitho, you will move that rump of yours or you will be a wonderful snack for the hungry, flying myth.” It was going to be a battle of the wills. I turned and watched the beast smash my husband, and well, no, that was not happening!

I sent a blinding electrical bolt, the lightning white-hot and, of course, with the distance so great, the dreaded horror has time to leap to the side three times!

With Connie and Kiril both gasping for life, we finally cowed this marvel enough to send it scurrying away, but not before we got some parting shots in. With the dragon gone, no destroyed, we'd be looking over our shoulders for a while, still it was easier to kick Puitho’s rump into gear and I soon re-joined everyone.

The merchant was so pleased that we survived; he offers us choice pickings from the wares he cannot carry now that one of the camels has been sacrificed. He refused to accept no as an answer so I thanked him profusely for the finely hand-knotted silk prayer rug that would grace our modern washroom, the tiles of which were cold on bare feet early in the morning.

Two full-days and a night passed without incident. As we neared the oasis mid-day which was to be our first true resting spot, the stench of death was strong. Sending both Blaze and Al’s cheetah out to bring us back information after Kiril spied many dead forms and a small glint in the hills, we waited their intel.

They brought back news that was grim. Uncountable dead Gnolls being scavenged by the pecking order of the desert; the cheetah brings back a bloody hand, and, after praising the beast, Al hands a shaft of green stone he pries from the severed hand, to me. A few minutes of study and I smile, handing it back to him, “It’s a wand of Lesser Restoration. The key word is etched into the jade, on the side. I think there’s about fourteen or fifteen uses remaining.”

Through the cheetah we get the impression there are live Gnolls hiding in the hills.

Deciding to torch the decaying bodies, we drag them to a makeshift pyre and Kiril uses his oil and flint to set the decomposing Gnolls alight. We are still choosing our places to bed for the night when this giant ugly worm like creature pounces from the ground, rising like a million galaxies above us, catching Connie off guard and ripping into Kiril.

Tired flies out the window as our adrenaline kicks in and we fight firing deadly spells and slicing and dicing until we are a rag-tag group, barely breathing; the beast screams a mournful bail and is sucked back into the ground a fireball filling its mouth exploding its head in a gory display of raining hamburger from the slaughter house.

Blood dripping from deep wounds mixing with the salty rivers of sweat liberally coating our skin, washing the sand and grabbing more we gasp. Gulping great lungfuls of hot desert air we lean on tired and sore limbs, raising water skeins to our lips, swallowing the elixir of The God.

A sudden noise alerts our attention and turning, we see a number of Gnolls bearing down on us. “Oh, for the love of…” Connie exclaims. “Okay, healing! Quickly!” she mutters.

My first thought is the merchant. Is he safe?

My second is Kiril. Is he able to fight? Has he been healed?

My third thought is, “Oh carp! Have we been set up?”

My fourth thought brings a wide smile to my face. Al can frizzle these chaps with that wonderful lightning of his...

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Deadly Butterflies...

It seemed a good idea at the time. While everyone was heading toward the fire, I was concerned that it had been set as a ruse. Tugging my husband’s hand we swiftly hurried to the opposite side of the city, my proposal was that while the town was fighting the fire, someone or something could sneak in the unguarded gates and cause mischief.

And, it appears I was correct as we hustled along we soon saw two large shadowy figures slip around a corner and, by the time we reached the corner, they were about halfway along the street peering into windows and looking the buildings in this sector up and down inquisitively.

We also noted they were Gnolls sitting atop those hyena-dog-like things they rode. Annoyed at being awoken while enjoying a particularly happy-dream, with these creatures as the probable culprits did not endear them to me – in fact, quite the opposite.

I tapped my husband’s shoulder and he grinned, stepping aside as my hands began their delicate pattern the energy flowing into them as I spoke the words aloud, “A piece of this; a bit of that; pierce your hides; kersplat!”

Astonishing the interlopers a golden beam streaks toward them. Before they can comprehend the fireball explodes against them, the force hurling one Gnoll off his hyena-steed and bashing his body against the stone wall, silencing his howl forever.

The other screeching as the flames licked his hide.

Kiril then wrought his magic as his blade found vulnerable spots and made good use of this knowledge.

They attempt to fight back, wimpy creatures that they are, and I wove my fingers again flinging them forth, overwhelming the creatures with four purple glitter-sparkly butterfly (mental picture courtesy THE gawd of Legacy, Devon…) beams flashing toward them. Before they can comprehend the illusion shatters against them, the force hurling one Gnoll off his hyena-steed and bashing his body against the stone wall, silencing his howl forever.

The other shrieking as the missiles find their target despite the incredibly swift leap to the left. I couldn’t help the giggle that erupted briefly from my lips; the whole two or three seconds seeming surreal. 

My husband then swiftly put blade to one, and we struggled with them for mere seconds before dispatching them. Breathing deeply, then wishing I hadn’t, the stench of these unwashed creatures utterly putrid, I suggested searching the bodies before removing them to an area where I could burn their carcasses.

Kiril, my beloved stood guard, lest any more creep out from the shadows while I emptied their pouches, discovering useful items as well as a folded chunk of skin.

It tugged at my curious nature and I opened the soft leathery type material. It only took one glance to have my heart stop. “Kiril! Come, we have to get home, now!” I grabbed his arm, shoving the drawing under his nose briefly as I practically dragged him toward our lovely home. I don’t think he got a good look at it before I crushed it in my hand shoving it in my pocket. “It’s a crude drawing of our house! Someone is looking for us or our home, and I don’t think they’re making a social visit.”

We reached our block as Connie and Al returned, covered in soot. Explaining quickly, they assisted us in doing a systematic search of our home and the grounds, finding nothing. I was still too concerned and suggested we move into our large meeting quarters until this was sorted.

In the morning the captain of the guard paid a social call. I took offense at his patronizing attitude. Well, he tried really hard to keep it a social call, and we offered coffee, a new bean we discovered soaking in a vat of pure water. After many experiments, the only thing it seemed good for was roasting, grinding and mixing with spice before filtering boiling water over and allowing it to steep for a good long time, producing a flavourful brew. He seemed pleasantly surprised and enjoyed a large mug of the blackish liquid infused with honey and thick goat’s cream. For Alma, my husband, Connie, and, yes, even our new friend Al’s sake, I pushed my dislike aside.

After he left, Kiril, Connie and Al went to see the merchant who was seeking guards for his trip to Kapesh.

Oh how excited I am! I remember the immense metropolis fondly and fearfully. It was massive, but vibrant! Colourful, noisy, smelly and fast-paced. Vastly different than our experiences for the past few years. I looked forward to visiting the bazaar in the upper half, and maybe, just maybe I’d have time to visit the Magic College!

My mind totally readying for this trip, I returned to our house and began to pack, emptying the dust from the last adventures, refilling wine skeins and the such. Making sure to visit the bank to withdraw some funds to have as free a pocket as needed in the big city! Oh, how I hope the journey is pleasant I think, filling the copper tub Kiril and a few artisans hammered out. The ingenious plumbing system, drawing the water through pipes until warm before flowing freely into the tub still amazed me…

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Good riddance...

So we finally have left the House of the Beast behind us. Good riddance. And besides having the pleasure of seeing four Gnolls fleeing in fear

from us as we departed, we were also able to find three more escaped slaves and escorted them back to our town.

I did have another encounter with a magnificent Giant Eagle. It seemed aware of the cleansing of the place and even shared some fresh fish as a thank you. For my part, I am thrilled if this makes it safer for the young nestlings of these incredible, noble, and intelligent creatures.

The six day journey back was uneventful, something I am grateful for. We have had quite enough adventure for awhile. I must say, I was quite surprised at the changes to Kelmarane during our relatively short time away. The town had continued to grow in prodigious leaps. Indeed, we were no longer the Captains of the Guard. Almah says it is because we are better suited as operatives that can travel at a moments notice to handle problems outside of the city. I hope that that is all it is. Without our services, and the blood we have shed, not even to mention companions that have fallen along the way, this wouldn't be a town of civilized folk, but still a hive for banditry.

Almah is also quite interested in the Scroll. Perhaps too much so. I would hope that this isn't the case. Spring, my beloved Spring, was able to with the use of more of her Arcane sorcery, decipher that the Scroll is actually a map. But to where is still somewhat of a mystery, and as to what it would lead one to is also an unknown. But Almah also says she knows someone in Katapesh that has studied lore about this item, and will write a letter of introduction for us if we wish to delve into its secrets more fully. It appears that we do so wish it...

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