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[DnD 4E] Dark Sun: Desert Flight (Group 2 Game Thread)
Denada
Registered User regular
Registered User regular
Desert Flight
Stories of the Rear-Section Travelers
--- ---
You've just booked passage with Desert Flight, one of Hae's infamous caravans. Hae may be an old mul, but being old in a business like his is a good indication that he knows what he's doing. Although you all have different reasons for it, you and 70 other people are about to leave Balic for the recently freed city of Tyr. There will be adventure once you get there, no doubt about that, but getting there is an adventure all its own. Travelling across the Tyr region is never safe. Travelling in groups makes it a little better, but being in a caravan brings a whole new set of problems to make up for the ones it solves.
But that's Athas. Lots of choices, none of them good.
--- ---
The PCs:Stories of the Rear-Section Travelers
--- ---
You've just booked passage with Desert Flight, one of Hae's infamous caravans. Hae may be an old mul, but being old in a business like his is a good indication that he knows what he's doing. Although you all have different reasons for it, you and 70 other people are about to leave Balic for the recently freed city of Tyr. There will be adventure once you get there, no doubt about that, but getting there is an adventure all its own. Travelling across the Tyr region is never safe. Travelling in groups makes it a little better, but being in a caravan brings a whole new set of problems to make up for the ones it solves.
But that's Athas. Lots of choices, none of them good.
--- ---
Ghires N'Qazi, Mul Fighter - played by milk ducks
Ichtaca, Half-Elf Psion - played by skarsol
Keothi, Half-Giant Warlock - played by Maledicte
Zahra Leto, Human Rogue - played by Gideon
This is the game thread for the second group of 4 PCs. The game thread for the first group can be found here.
A few reminders for the players:
-We are using the optional Reckless Breakage rule from the Dark Sun Campaign Setting.
-Ammo is important. I will be keeping track.
-Encumbrance and carrying space are important. You will not be able to stick a suit of leather armor in your belt pouch.
-Rolls will be made on Orokos or Invisible Castle.
-OOC text should be placed in Slate Gray color.
A note for any spectators:
-There is a discussion thread for the game here. Feel free to talk with me, the players, and each other about the game there. Thoughts? Theories? Notice an error that no one else caught? Go ahead and chime in.
D&D/d20 Discussion Thread | Bread Space | One Eldritch Summer | I Want to Save the World but I'm Just a Level 1 Skeleton
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Balic – 12th of Breeze
--
It's the twelfth day of Breeze, just after dawn. You were supposed to leave yesterday, but a problem with one of the mekillot drivers has left Hae, the caravan's operator, late in leaving and short on good will. Fortunately, the delay has given you time to make your final arrangements and find your place in the caravan. You and several others are positioned in the rear section of the caravan. Most of the heavy wagons are in the forward and middle sections, so you have the pleasure of being with the majority of the crodlus and other small pack animals. Depending on how you look at it, pulling duty as rear guard doesn't make the unglamorous position any better.
As you get yourselves situated and pull your mounts in line, you can hear Hae give a fifteen minute warning from the head of the caravan. Most of the other people around you are similarly occupied with their own preparations.
While a nomadic-looking human tends to his crodlu with the kind of gentle confidence that only comes from a life around such creatures, a nearby dwarf curses loudly as his inix nearly throws him into the back legs of the last mekillot in the column. A flash of light bursts from his fist as he pounds it into the ground, at which he promptly calms down and takes measures to become much less conspicuous. Further ahead in the caravan, you can make out a thri-kreen taking stock of the passengers and making marks on a sheet of parchment as she quietly walks along the wagons and beasts of burden.
You have 15 minutes until the caravan leaves. Make your introductions, do anything else you'd like to do, then we're off.
He watched the other members of the caravan, and pulled his filter mask up over the bridge of his nose. Some men might have taken offense at being placed near the rear of the caravan, to keep the company of crodlus and other foul-smelling beasts, but Ghires knew better: the further back he sat, the fewer knives would be at his back.
Ghires quietly adjusted the leather strappings of his armour, anxious to leave Balic behind him.
Keothi inwardly smiled at the disgruntled expressions on those around him. They must be upset about being placed in the back of the caravan, he mused. Being positioned in the least desirable place allows a man the most freedom; no one wants to pay attention to the things in life that are not desirable. To think of this as a disadvantage is so… typical .
After surveying the scene, he decided that no one was settled enough to strike up a conversation, so Keothi adjusted his pack and fell into a comfortable stance. The quicker I get to Tyr, he thought, the quicker I can fulfill this mission.
Others are rushing to check their packs, their mounts, their supplies and gear. Zahra, however, is still. Already in her camouflage, she goes unnoticed by most of the travellers. She feels no desire to rush or to check her pack; it was ready yesterday, when the caravan was scheduled to depart, and is ready now. Indeed, all other desires are subsumed in the thought of the journey's end and the goal that it promises. With, as yet, no information about that goal, Zahra is free to daydream rather than strategize.
She is started from thoughts of books and fire by a sharp flash off to her left. A dwarf is glancing around surreptitiously, guilt and self-recrimination easily read on his face.
Zahra is well aware that supranormal powers can be achieved by means other than that which fascinates her: the arcane. Rather than grasping and warping the world's weave, some draw power from living objects (mere reflections of pattern on the weave) and some --many-- train the talents of the mind. But that reaction can mean only one thing: A fellow student of the arts of true power. Lost in her daydream, Zahra did not really see the flash, but she tries to recall what she might know about its source.
Zahra slowly stands up, walking not towards the dwarf but aiming past him. Looking around, she tries to see if anyone else has noticed his angry outburst.
Arcana: 1d20 + 9 → [2,9] = (11)
Perception: 1d20 + 7 → [16,7] = (23)
Your attention is quickly brought back to the caravan as you hear Hae's voice booming from the forward section. "Form up!" Hae yells, "Crew to their positions! Passengers in their columns! We're moving in five minutes!"
Seeing that Prok is situated, she grabs her staff and makes a small tour of the back of the caravan. She walks up to the nomadic human tending his animal and tries to engage him in conversation, "Looks like a fine crodlu you've got there. Reminds me a lot of the one I rode to get to Balic. Shame I couldnt keep him but there's no real call to have a mount when you're working in the Praetorium. I hope this new one turns out to be as good! Have you had him long?"
His eyes followed the Mul as he passed, but his gaze was interrupted by a nagging impulse to check on the dwarf from earlier.
He turned and noticed that the dwarf had definitely garnered the kind of attention he'd hoped to avoid. But that wasn't the only thing Keothi saw. In his periphery the image of a small, female, dark-haired human grabbed at his consciousness. Giving her his full attention, he sees her slowly making her way towards the unfolding scene. Instinctively, Keothi stood fast in his station. Remain unnoticed.
However, her interest in the scenario piqued his curiosity. Maybe this caravan will lead me to some answers before I even get to Tyr, he thought. In any case, he decided to fall in line behind the Mul. He'd have plenty of time to investigate once the caravan moves out.
"Most of my life," he says, absently petting his crodlu's neck. "He has been a good friend to me. But that is as much my trade as it is my choice. I raise them. It's not as glamorous as the Praetorium, but it's honest work, and it has kept my family well." He extends his hand to you. "Inxet," he says. "And you are?"
With a chuckle, Keothi nodded towards the small human woman and responded "I'm not sure who noticed him more; the praetor, or his female admirer. Both pretty sure ways to kill a dwarf, I'd wager."
Keothi stepped around the side of the Mul and said "My name's Keothi. You've got a keen eye. Wasn't sure who else noticed his lack of control."
"Well met, then, Keothi," replied the mul, reaching out to shake the half-giant's massive hand. "Ghires."
"A pleasure. What drives you to the land of Tyr?"
He raised his eyes toward the sun, then back out across the waste. "But if half of what I've heard come outta Tyr's true; that Kalak's dead? That the people there are strong an' brave enough to fell a God-King?"
Ghires grinned a black kind of grin. "Well, that I'll 'ave to see to believe."
"You?"
"I work as a messenger for Villa Nauripides, most specifically Zaethus. Zaethus has some business ties to Rhey Khal, who was in Tyr when the city was freed. I am to check to make sure that business with Khal is still flourshing under the fall of Kalak, and to bring back word to Zaethus about the state of affairs in Tyr. I am also anxious to see what kind of ... activity befits a newly freed land."
When a chorus of shouts from up ahead signalled the caravan's imminent departure, the old mul pulled up the tawny hood of his cloak and adjusted his filter mask once more. "We're to be off, then," he declared, casting a narrowed stare back toward the City of Sails.
"Finally."
Outside Balic - 12th of Breeze
The dwarf that a few of you have been watching breathes a sigh of relief as another horn call breaks through the din of noise near the gate. As the massive mekillots lift up their bodies and begin trudging forward, the rest of the caravan quickly falls into step. The smell of dirt, spices, cargo, and animal musk slowly gives way to the smell of fields and farm land. The road stretches ahead of you as Balic fades away behind you, and the smell of farms and crops is burned away by the hot air of the desert, giving you the sense that your journey has truly started.
You were told before departing that your next stop is Fort Glamis, two days away. You'll have a chance to stock up on any supplies you didn't purchase in Balic then, as well as an opportunity to sell off anything you don't want to take with you.
The rear guard has your section of the caravan well watched, even though the risk of danger this close to Balic is minimal. For now, all you need to do is keep walking.
I'd like a Perception, Endurance, and Nature check from each of you.
Endurance Check: 1d20+3 20
Nature Check
Nature Check: 1d20+2 17
Perception Check
Perception Check: 1d20 7
Endurance Check: 27 *
Nature Check: 16
* Includes +1 item bonus against environmental dangers. If, by some chance, you're not testing against the heat or something, it's 26.
She memorises the dwarf's face, though, just in case.
Perception: 1d20 + 7 → [17,7] = (24)
Endurance: 1d20 + 2 → [3,2] = (5)
Nature: 1d20 + 2 → [3,2] = (5)
Zahra loses one healing surge.
As the sun begins its slow descent, you hear word that camp will be made late. Hae is looking to make up for the lost day of travel by pushing harder in these first few days of relative safety. Perception (Ghires, Ichtaca, Zahra): Although not the sort of thing you're looking for, you can't help but notice that the wind is particularly hot for the time of day. Something about it feels off. Nature (Ghires, Keothi): The hot wind indicates one thing and one thing only: a sandstorm is approaching.
Before he has a chance to respond, a mul from further up the line yells "Sandstorm!" to what looks like a half giant near him. "Oh dear, the last time a caravan I was on got caught in a sandstorm I was riding in a wagon and we just waited it out. Do you think I should try and set up my tent?" she asks Inxet.
"Ghires! Help me corral the women, children, and elderly behind the wagons! We need to set up a strong front! This one feels...formidable!"
With that, Keothi pulled up his filter mask around the bridge of his expansive face. Instinctively, Keothi began shepherding groups of people behind the wagons, and instructing herders to calm their flocks.
"Dammit. This is not the best way to stay under the radar..." he brooded. While he didn't resent the weak for their stature, he certainly didn't appreciate the role of protector. Not when he had a mission to accomplish.
"Snap out of your sullenness, Keothi! You wouldn't be here without help!" whispered an inner voice he knew all too well. "You are correct, holiness. You always are." Keothi inwardly answered, as he made his way towards a flock appearing to be tended by a human and a chatty half-elf.
The guards and other staff spring into action at his command, rushing to direct passengers and other crew behind some of the larger wagons. Meanwhile, other guards begin scaling the sides of the wagons, pulling down heavy tarps that look more like turtle shells than sheets of fabric.
The wind picks up quickly as the caravan frantically prepares for the storm. The horizon begins to darken as the sand and wind approaches, its roar steadily growing louder.
Athletics and/or Dungeoneering checks from anyone that wants to help with the preparations. Arcana, Nature, Perception, or Religion checks (if you're of the primal sort) to further investigate the storm. Pick one or the other (help or investigate), as there won't be time to do both, or neither if you just want to find somewhere to hide.
"Another hand, especially MY hand, could do nothing but help, right?" He mumbles. Without a second thought, Keothi moves in closer to the wagons, anxious to help in anyway possible.
It took a couple of moments for Zahra to register the suddden hustle and panic around her, and trace it back to a Mul's cry from a few moments ago.
Sandstorm?... Shit.
Quick and sure, she pulls up her filter mask. But her delay still means that it's all Zahra can do to vault a cart and find shelter behind a sturdy-looking wagon. She peers out, scanning the horizon for something. But her nocturnal studies seem very far away.
Nature: 1d20 + 2 → [9,2] = (11)
Perception: 1d20 + 7 → [11,7] = (18)
The sky is growing darker now with the approaching storm. Although it's difficult to judge the size of something so massive, you would be surprised if the wall of wind and sand was less than a mile high, and the low rumble of the storm is rapidly ascending to a thunderous roar. Perception (Zahra): It's difficult to make out, but you're sure you see black spots mixed in with the roiling sand.
--
Everyone: As the storm grows closer and closer, what little preparations time allows are completed. With the animals secured and the tarps drawn over the caravan, there's nothing more to do than wait.
You don't have to wait for long.
But it's not a wave of stinging sand that comes first. The first thing you experience is a high-pitched whine, followed quickly by an explosion of sand and rock near one of the wagons. That explosion is followed quickly by another, then another, then another. Before you even realize what’s happening, shards of obsidian, some the size of a fist, others the size of a half-giant, are crashing down all around you. Chaos erupts around the caravan as the shards tear through the tarps, crash into the wagons, and crush people and animals.
Within a matter of seconds, half of the rear section is obliterated. And then the sand hits.
Give me an Athletics OR Acrobatics check, and an Endurance OR Nature check.
Endurance: 1d20+2 4