Dark Sun: The Path that Free Men Tread

[gantherogue]

There it is, Altaruk. After spending what felt like countless days in the desert, travelling along the Nibenese and Great Road, you finally made it. Your feet drag along the ground, creating dancing wisps of dust carried away by the hot mid day sun. As you divvy up the last of the water from the Silver Spring, you take in the sight of Altaruk rising above the rocky dunes.Unpleasantly, it wasn't far too different from Raam, in a structural sense. The pentagonal walls were built and cradled within the rocky mountains, forming intimidating entrance and choke point. The walls bear no decoration, surprising, considering the legendary arrogance of the merchant houses that sponsor this relatively young settlement.Ramparts stretch across the top, figures march back and fort, their form obscured by distance and the heat radiating from desert.

As you get closer, the standing guard of the merchant city come into view. Five guards, stand in a semi circle in front of the large stone gate. They consist of three humans in the middle, two Mul at the sides, their skin is bronzed from the harsh unyielding sun; their demeanor is confident and stalwart, as if nothing could pass them. Their confidence however, is nowhere near misplaced as you spy the swiveling motion of two ballistas, topping the watch towers to the left and right of the thick stone gate. You continue forward, you come under the shadow (and thankfully the shade) of the seeming impenetrable structure, and invariably under the gazes of the guard and their weaponry.

One of the humans step forward, he sports a bone shield, spear and a hide outfit, garishly marked and dyed in the colors of House Wavier, marking him out as a superior of sorts. His face hardens, twisting with suspicion as he spies your party steadily covering the last bit of ground, and he calls out:


"Who goes there? What business do you have in Altaruk, the bountiful and fruit lands of the most benevolent House Waiver, Rees and Tombaldor?"


What do you do?

Map of Altaruk, provided by a generous elf of Silver Spring

[Saint Jimmy]

You see a tall, muscular, and fierce-looking Mul dressed in a strange armor made of supple, olive-green scales step forward, his pale skin contrasting with the bright red of the numerous scars he had received that had never healed. In a low, deep voice, he says,

"My name is Rikus. Although I cannot speak for my companions, I fled the pit of desolation known as Raam, seeking shelter from the cruelty of the sun, my master, and of the arena."

His words and the marks of a cast-off bone collar on his neck clearly mark him as a slave, and by his scars the bloodstained weapons he carries, it's not hard to see that he was a gladiator.
Rikus spits at the name Raam, and looks back at his companions expectantly, looking tired, as though speaking so much had drained him.

[PCScipio]

Jamilah eyed the the guards. She was a young woman of average height, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. She wore long, light robes in the style of the nomads of the Great Alluvial Sand Wastes. Her appearance did not suggest her noble heritage, although a keen observer might have recognized the speech paterns of the Raam upper class. "I am Jamilah," she said. "We would like to buy supplies and rest from our journey."

[KreenWarrior]

Ka'tho is there, a dark greenish thri-kreen, his chitin dull and his movements and posture showing just slightly the strain of the long flight and the desert's hardships. Still, he is standing with the self-confidence of a predator among prey, an evolutionary gift of assurance that is only somewhat dimmed by years of enslavement, the loss of his clutch, and the knowledge that the prey have learned to fight back. Marks from the slave-collar have been worn into his chitin as well, but the trip across the desert and the chance to run freely have invigorated his spirit as much as they have drained his body. I am called Ka'Tho by your kind. Shelter, water and food."

[Gospel Noctis]

"Asteron." Replied the massive creature standing among the rest of the desert-weary vagabonds. Shrouded in a worn, sand-colored traveling cloak, his figure cut a startlingly intimidating figure. Standing over a full foot taller than his current companions, the wicked pair of bloodstained horns and bestial snout poking forth from his cloaks hood clear indications of the true nature of the individual before them.

"As my companions have said, we've come seeking food, water, and shelter from the wastes."

[Bluydee]

Alexen watched the rest of his companions introduce themselves with a passive look. He was a tall man, with tanned skin and long auburn hair speckled with sand and dirt, standing with a proud bearing unfitting with the dirtied cloak that covered his body. A modest sword crafted of bone hung at his side, it's once-clean edge eroded with use. A tired sigh escaped from his lips, listening to the way his compatriots stated their intentions. With the circumstances at hand, he doubted the soundness of introducing yourself as a slave, especially to the guard they faced.

The guard annoyed him. Whether it was his tone or his allegiance to nobility was unknown. Still, in moments like these it didn't hurt to hide your disgust. Stepping forward, Alexen raised his hands in a peaceful manner, his gaze steady and firm.

"As would I. My name is Alexen. My companions and I mean no harm. We simply seek shelter and refuge from the heat after our weary travels."

[gantherogue]

Spoiler: Rikus

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As you declare your intentions and history, baring your painful past for all to see; you a subtle change in the Mul guards demeanor. Hairless brows raise ever so slightly above their green eyes. And then you really see it, it was quick, almost imperceptible, but it was there... smiles, no, smirks. It seems you've made an impression amongst your brethren

The seemingly higher ranked guard however, seems less than impressed. His shoulders shift lazily, his eyes glazing over as he inspects you.

"How bold..." he drolls, a sneer creeping across his face.

"What did you do Mule? Sneak out while they were reading their scriptures?" He snorts at his own witticism. Before he turns his attention to the rest of your party, he gives one final comment

"You best keep all that to yourself Mule" he intones in a low voice as he passes by to get a better view of the rest of the newcomers "others in Altaruk are not as scrupulous as I."

Spoiler: Ka'tho and Asteron

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As he steps around to observe the rest of the party, the guards steps falter, the two monstrous figures coming into his focus. His eyes flicker between the Kreen and the Beastman, his tongue darting out every so often, licking his lips nervously. Upon hearing their intentions, he nods quickly and turns with barely veiled relief to the remaining humans of the group.

Spoiler: Alexen and Jamilah

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The guard superiors gaze finally rests upon the final two members of the rag tag group. His demeanor visibly calms, as if he didn't look at the more... exotic individuals... they didn't exist. He listens once more, not a single sign of disrepect or attitude, it seems he's been cowed.

And...And we welcome all those who bring peaceful business to Alturak." his statement coming out like a script read by a flustered actor. He straightens up, holding out his hand

"The fee for entering Altaruk is one gold bit per traveler..." He leans in, lowering his voice to a whisper directed at the human pair.

However, I ask that an additional gold bit be given to cover any... Damages incurred by your... large companion. And to fund containment if you cannot control him.

With varying degrees of annoyance, disgust and outright anger you pay the guard for entrance to Altaruk. The other guards shout, and start to wave their hands to unseen figures behind the massive walls. A large metallic clunk is heard, followed by a steady series of clinks as the gate mechanisms swung the stone gates outward. As the gates open wide, the sounds and smells of Altaruk drift out assailing your senses. Vehement bartering and chattering can be heard,while various perfumes and the smell of food frying accompanies them. You waste no time hurrying through, eager to experience comfort after a long and excruciating journey.

Your excitement is somewhat curbed as you pass the threshold, the sounds of the market and the scent of sustenance is muffled and dulled by the stables and the Wavieran Warehouse. You gag, the stench of Crodlu waste and foul smoking plants of the warehouse workers threatening to shut down your olfactory functions for good.Wiping the stinging tears out of your eyes, you take stock of your surroundings. You see the aforementioned warehouse workers (not slaves surprisingly), sitting amongst empty boxes, puffing away at poorly whittled bone pipes. A various number of slaves work, some cutting grain, others feeding the grain to the tired and onrey looking Crodlu, others mucking out their stalls. You take note of one of the slaves, calming a fussy Crodlu. A purple corona of light faintly glows around his head as he grabs the Crodlu's reigns. The light glows brighter as he begins to stroke it on it's cheek, the beast calming almost instantaneously; it begins blankly chewing on the feed offered to it.



You continue walking through, hoping to make it to better smelling and restful parts of the city. As you pass one more thing catches your attention. A short portly dwarf is seen arguing with a guard, his face is read and beading with sweat, seemingly caused by his incessant bouncing and stomping. His finely jeweled and colored robes were stained under the pits of his arms, bangles on his ankles and wrists jingle with every hop.

"IS THE REWARD NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU LAZY ROUSTABOUTS? the dwarf screams, spit flecking and dribbling onto his bountiful chins.

"I REFUSE TO GO ANY HIGHER, DON'T YOU REALIZE WHO YOU ARE TALK-"

The guard cuts him off, obviously she has been dealing with him for quite some time and has resigned to her current lot in life.

"I'm sorry, sir while your reward is more than generous, we can't spare the manpower right now; with the search for the Veiled Alli-" her calm but exasperated explanation is cut off in turn by the dwarf.

WELL IF YOU'RE NOT WILLING TO TAKE 100 GOLD BITS. I'M SURE SOMEONE WILL! he gives one last fume, and tantrum fueled stomp, performing a heel turn unfitting for one of his girth.

"GOOD DAY TO YOU MADAM". he spits and storms back towards the warehouse.

[Saint Jimmy]

The words the guard spoke made Rikus's blood boil, but instead of informing him how it felt to literally run for days with Templars chasing after you because of the blood of your master that coats your weapon, Rikus just said
"something like that."

Later
Rikus's face quickly looks up from the unassuming downward position it was in at the mention of the money.
He couldn't help but think the words
"That's more money then I have ever had in my life..."


after shooting a quick look to his companions to let them know his intentions, he walks over to the dwarf and says
"One of those people would be me. What's the job?"

OOC:if they agree he includes the others in that statement if they wish.

[PCScipio]

Jamilah held her breath to avoid the olfactory onslaught issuing forth from the stables; she hurried quicly past. Having spent a year and a half in the desert before returning to Raam, she liked this aspect of city life even less than before. She observed the exchange between the dwarf and the city guardswoman with interest. "One hundred gold would come in handy right about now," she remarked to her companions in a low voice. She followed Rikus as he went to talk to the dwarf.

[KreenWarrior]

Ka'Tho makes a chittering sound of amused acceptance. Freedom meant freedom to starve, it was true, and in the cities and among humans, money was how you ate if you were free. He nodded slightly in approval.

[Gospel Noctis]

Giving a light snort of contention at the guards words the minotaur peacefully relinquished his payment to the crass human before him before following the rest of the rag tag group of former slaves into the city ahead. The fetid scent of Crodlu droppings playing havoc upon the acute senses of the massive beastman did little to endear him to the new surroundings he had found himself in, though the promise of food, shelter, and more importantly water was still more than sufficient a reason to endure such unpleasantness. At least for now...

The enraged tirade of dwarven man towards one of the guards drew his attention just as easily as any of the others. A noble, he assumed, taking note of the fine jewels and robes adorning the dwarfs fattened person. Asteron sneered, disgust and repulsion churning in his gut. How typical of these so called 'nobles', screaming and demanding service from those they deemed lesser; tossing around the promise of their ill gotten coin to force those around them to bend a knee. How he despised the sorry lot of them.

Yet, just as Jamilah reasoned such coin could truly go a long ways, especially for those in such a position as theirs. Swallowing his distaste for the worthless swine that he would likely soon be running errands for, he too made his way forward.

[Bluydee]

Alexen sniffed in disgust, and not simply from the crude stables.
He could recall the days when a hundred gold pieces was a drop in the bucket for someone like him, yet now it was more than he carried through all his possessions. Regardless, beggars couldn't be choosers, and his position at the moment was certainly a beggar. Following suite, he joined the rest of his companions against the dwarven noble.

Spoiler: OOC

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If it's Dark Sun shouldn't it be ceramic pieces?

[gantherogue]

Spoiler: OOC

Show

According to the book they are often referred to as "bits", ceramic currency that is painted and marked with different colors (ie, gold, silver, bronze) and symbols to prevent counterfeit.

Also, heads up, my post is gonna be a bit late today due my work schedule being a bit screwy.

[gantherogue]

The dwarf stomps in corpulent fury, seemingly ready to take his stunted rage on anything and anyone.A slave is the first victim, receiving a vicious sandeled foot to the hamstring, toppling him over a fence and into a pack of Crodlu. The screeching and screaming did not give the dwarf any pause as he continued down the path nothing seemed to stop or quell his fae mood until...

"One of those people would be me. What's the job?"

"OUT OF MY WAY YOU DISGUSTING HALF-"

his bellow cuts short, his facing falling into thoughtful neutrality, as if Rikus' words just now managed to penetrate his thick flabby mind. In an instant, the red coloration in his face drains, postures shifts into one spying the last jug of water in the market, and his foul sneer morphs into a smile so sickeningly sweet, it would make the most decadent noble connoisseurs swear off honey for good. And worst of all, it gets only more so, as he spies Ka'tho and Asteron.

"oh my. Oh My!" he exclaims, shifting and hopping between the Mull, Threen and Minotaur, his practiced gaze taking in every detail of the hardened warriors. This continues on for several moments, until he spies Jamilah and Alexen watching with mixed expressions. His eyes, like those of a child gifted his first waterskin, focus on them; stepping forward, he gives an ingratiating bow and with a voice dripping with flattery and oil he panders:

"My lady and most humble sellsword! Would these happen to be your slaves? And if they so happen to be, might I say they are the most exotic and superb specimens this merchant has ever laid eyes on! If you would be so kind, I would be honored to rent, and if possible, buy them off of you, for a task worthy of their stature and physique! He chortles, jingling a coin pouch, seemingly done with his professional grovelling.

"Although," he adds under his breath In the future I would keep them on a tighter leash..."

[PCScipio]

Jamilah eyed the dwarf with disdain. I'm probably going to regret inquiring any further, she thought to herself. "These are my friends, not slaves," she replied coldly. Then, in a businesslike manner: "You were speaking of a reward a moment ago. May I ask what is involved?"

[Gospel Noctis]

White-hot indignant rage rushed though Asterons veins. This weak, arrogant piece of filth dared to have the audacity to treat the minotaur and his fellow Free Men like they were mere pieces of meat, nothing but property meant to be examined at traded at a whim? The heavy thrum of barbaric anger cried out for swift bloody action, urging him to draw his blade and cleave the little noble in two. It was long practiced restraint and understanding of their current situation that stayed his hand. The group of former slaves were in a new city, ignorant to the lay of the lands, surrounded by potential enemies, and lacking the supplies necessary to make it out in the wastes were they to escape the retribution of Altarukian law.

No, it would be a foolish move to strike the noble down now, and while he certainly wasn't 'smart', he was no fool. Swallowing his pride and quelling any violent impulses Asteron chose to hold his tongue for now, to let his companions inquire further. With any luck, the dwarf would get right down to business and provoke his ire no further.

[Saint Jimmy]

The insult didn't do much to Rikus, he had been called much, much worse before. What really disgusted him was the manner that the fat dwarf went from hate to pandering. The kind of man who did that had obviously never knew pain, suffering, and probably not even thirst! That made him weak and unable to stand not getting his way, something that Rikus filed away for future use. No one knew that, however, because he only stood there by the Crodlu stables, showing no emotion, except for a smirk at the dwarf's face when his friend set the flabby man straight.

[KreenWarrior]

Ka'Tho does not dignify the dwarf's insult with a response. Instead, he simply ***** his heads and flexes his mandibles in the thr-kreen equivalent of a snarling grimace and waits for Jamilah to clarify matters.

[Bluydee]

Alexen looked at the dwarf with narrowed eyes. To lack such dignity outraged his well-grown sensibilities. Even more so, the way the noble intoned his "request" annoyed him, like a child coddling a beaten dog. Regardless, he could garner enough of his comrades' temperaments to know just how poorly the man's words would go down with them. He raised a hand, as if to say wait before you chop his head off.

"We're more of a matched set, really, and if you have a job it involves all of us."

[gantherogue]

The dwarf's smile falters, if only for a moment, his eyes flickering awkwardly back and forth..

"Ah... friends... I-I see."

As quickly as the crack in his facade came, it fades, leaving behind that infuriating expression of entitled expectancy and false camaraderie.

"Of course, of course! Any one who does business with Rhotan Vor is a friend! He bows again, turning afterwards heading west under the overhang of the gateway. He calls out:

"This however, is not the place to discuss business! Come, I know a lovely place down the road, they make the most succulent Dakka!"



You manage to follow just before he waddles out of sight and around the corner. As you walk, the foul surroundings of the Stables disappear,giving way to the hustle and bustle of the Arena Square.



All manner of the citizenry of Altaruk congregate here. Nobles and their assorted hanger ons go about placing bets, copious amounts of money going into all too eager hands. Trainers bellow, waving flags proclaiming their allegiance and education in the ways of murder, offering training and tutelage to those who hunger coin, glory, and blood. Stalls and stoves, filled to the brim with cheap and filling food, their scent promising either a satisfying meal or a night spent hurling in the alleyways. The arena itself is massive, especially for a "trading outpost", the familiar sounds of combat and frenzied cheering can be heard over the ambient clamor. This was however largely ignored by Rohtan, who maneuvers through the chaos with practiced ease, with you following the substantial wake left behind.

Once again, the crowd thins out revealing a courtyard like layout with a quartet of establishments therein. Squawks of various creature are heard from the building to the northwest, large cages line the front in various states of disarray and destruction. Sickly sweet perfume wafts through the air, carried on raucous laughter and sultry giggles from the Southwest building, tempting sinners from all walks of life though it's doors. Once again, these normally... distracting diversions are ignored by Rohtan, who stops in front of ratty looking sandstone building with a sign reading: The Blind Whore

"Come in, come in! Don't be shy! he quips, motioning you one by one through the door. The interior of the lodge is simple, square stone chairs and tables laid out with minimal fuss and decoration; which was surprising considering that the place could make due with some touching up, noting the large cracks and fissures in the wall and floor. A flight of stairs lies to the north. To the east of the room there is a bar, an elven woman stands behind it, mixing herself a drink with some of the dull brown and amber liquids from the various bottles stacked on the shelves. She gives a nod to your group,and a soft "hello sir" to Rohtan. No one else seems to be here.

"And a fine afternoon to you Har'la! Would you be kind enough to prepare some Dakka for these fine folk? Oh, and some of your lovely Baazrag Kebabs as well!" The elf woman nods, lazily moving through the kitchen entry way and out of sight. Rohtan motions for you to sit, and as you do so he begins to pull out several scrolls from the sleeve of his robe, along with a small quill.

"Now," His voice falling into a professional cadence "About that job."

"You see, a few days ago a rather valuable and expensive shipment went missing. My scryers say that it was about five miles from here, give or take a few. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, however, the sand storms in the is area have been picking up recently. Not only do this sand storms ravage everything in sight and bring along a few nasty creatures along with them; the locale believe that they bring bad luck. As if. But even with all these events conspiring against me, I cannot let that shipment be devoured by the desert, I won't allow it! This is where you come in, I want you to find that caravan, and bring it's shipment back to me."

His flow is interrupted by the elven woman putting several plates down, half carrying colorful kebab with fried Baazrag meat and the other carrying a sort of paste smelling of nuts and fruits.


"Ah, thank you Har'la. he continues, taking a bite out of a kebab, or popping a bit of Dakka every so often, his lips smacking wetly.

"And of course, you won't being going in unprepared. While I am quite aware you can handle yourselves, I would not be able to get a return in my investment if you all died from a little sun.So, in addition to the one hundred gold bits in payment, I will give you 20 gold bits to resupply yourselves and sponsorship, from yours truly, for free accommodations here at the lodge to rest before your journey."

He licks his fingers, and looks you in the eye:

"Are there any other questions? And if not, do we have a deal?"

[Saint Jimmy]

Hearing the words, Rikus's face contorted thoughtful as he absentmindedly ate one of the kebabs. It was quite honestly one of the best things he had eaten, however, that wasn't really saying much. After finishing, he looks up and asks,


"When we were out in the desert, we did not fall prey to these sandstorms. How does one survive them?"

After hearing the words "free accommodations" Rikus nodded his head, and picked up several more kebabs with a rare grin.

[PCScipio]

Jamilah considered the dwarf's words. She didn't trust him at all; she needed to find out more information. "Can you tell me a bit about the shipment?", she asked. "Is it something living that would be harmed by the sandstorm or savage beasts?" She paused, then added, "Is there anything illegal involved? I want to understand what sort of risk we might be exposed to, other than the obvious ones already mentioned."

[Bluydee]

Alexen sat back, his eyes darting around the establishment with a look of distaste. Even after so long he supposed he could never get used to the conditions of the low class, however low he may be. Still, it was a step-up from the arenas, and the words "free accomodations" was all he needed to hear, as he began to dig in to the kebabs in a manner his instructors would chastise him for if they saw him now.

"Good stuff," he said, in the midst of scarfing down a kebab. He turned to Rhotan, looking him in the eyes. "Who knows about this shipment? It went missing for a reason, right? If it's as expensive and important as you say then someone must want as much as you do."

[Gospel Noctis]

Picking up a kebab or two for himself, the horn headed barbarian considered the job offered by the portly noble. All in all it seemed like an easy enough job, after all, 5 miles wasn't that far out into the desert. But if it were so easy, why had no one else yet attempted to claim the prize? The dwarf claimed superstition, that the people of the city thought it bad luck, but surely if that was all there was to it some sellsword would have taken up this contract regardless. This definitely warranted further questioning.

"You mentioned creatures. What sort of beasts do the sandstorms around here bring with them?" He asks, tearing into one of the kebabs brought before him, savoring the first real real he'd had in several days.

[gantherogue]

Spoiler: Ka'tho

Show

Ka'tho nods along with rest the group, these were essential questions. If they didn't drain every ounce of information from this shifty merchant, it could mean the end of everything they've accomplished. Until then however, he would learn what he could, and enjoy the sizzling succulent meat set before him.

Spoiler: Rikus

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"That's the strangest thing!" he exclaims, his tone taking on an exasperated quality "These sandstorms are highly localized, almost pin point! They only strike wanderers and caravans out in the desert, then leave as soon as they appear! If you ask me..." he adds, conspiratorially whispering to the group "It sounds like sorcery to me..."


"And to answer your other question"Rothan states as he leans back, his eye drifting up to the ceiling, his lip pursed in thought. there are several ways one can avoid these sandstorms. Most caravans simply circle their wagons forming a sort of makeshift barrier, with all the mounts and supplies gathered within. Others simply pray that some rocks or outcroppings are nearby to shield them, though that isn't the case most of the time. The most strange way I've seen are dune traders with their "shells".He starts waving his hand, as if trying to conjure an appropriate explanation out of thin air.

"They're like... large woven baskets that you wear on your back. When they see the sandstorm coming they start digging into the sand, and the hole is sufficient enough to crouch or lay in; they cover themselves with the "shell" and hang on to dear life!

He chuckles as he brushes a bit of dust of his robe

"Of course those are the sorts of risk when one goes in to a free trading industry!" His chuckle turns into a snort of derision and laughter, slapping his knee all the while. Perhaps it's a merchant joke. You're not quite sure.

Spoiler: Jamilah's and Alexen's insight

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Roll: 16, 14 vs. 13, he's not telling you something, you're sure of it.

Spoiler: Jamilah

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A brief flash of contempt shows in Rohtan's eyes as you ask your questions, obviously he was hoping you would all just go along with it.

Oh nothing in particular, just regular goods, such as wines, grain,weapons for the city guard... things like that.

At this point, he pulls about a small purple cloth, and dabs at the beading sweat that's gathering on his flabby brow.

"And nothing living of course! He blurts, spraying a bit of partially chewed Kebab on the stone table

"And nothing illegal! I am an honest business man, and hold my goods to the same standards!... Although one might say these goods are very legal, as legal as any shipment can be..." His words grew heavy upon that statement, a blatant hint towards something that he would not, or possibly not even allowed to say.

Spoiler: Alexen

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"No one else knows about this shipment besides me and my benefactor." He states proudly, his already considerable gut swelling with haughtiness. We made sure of it."

Spoiler: Asteron

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"Oh you know, the usual..." Rohtan states dismissively "Silt runners, Baazrags, and the occasional salt zombie horde. You see, they all don't seem to be affected by the storms, know how to work around them or simply don't care. They seem to have learned that when one strikes, there are a group of very unfortunate and very vulnerable people are in the middle of it.

"Anything else?" he inquires

[Saint Jimmy]

Rikus was certainly suspicious of the dwarf, especially of how he reacted to the question about the legality of the contents, but Rikus is a runaway slave. His very existence was illegal, so the contents didn't mean that much to him.
Unless anyone else has more questions, Rikus just asked for more food. It had been a long, long time since he had been able to eat like this, and he suspected that it would be longer still until he could again.

[PCScipio]

Jamilah was sure that Rohtan the Dwarf was leaving out something important, but she couldn't begin to guess what it was. I'm going to have to find out more about what's legal or not in Altaruk, she thought to herself, but not from him. She stalled by asking for more information. "Can you tell me about the circumstances surrounding the shipment's disappearance?"

[KreenWarrior]

Ka'tho indulged himself in the food, but was wary, antenna tracking every bit of motion and vibration he could. He would not be caught unawares again if he could help it. "I have travelled the desert before, I will do so again. I will accept this task if the others will as well."

[Gospel Noctis]

"I'm sure there's something you're not telling us about this whole thing," He comments, gulping down what remained of a kebab before reaching for another. "But I'm also willing to take the job. We've been dealing with all the **** the deserts been throwing at us for this long, a little bit more won't hurt."

[Bluydee]

Alexen sighed, noting the masked intent behind the dwarf's words. He was certainly lying, but at a time like this Alexen supposed he couldn't start a scene. Who would it be? Bandits? Elves? Templars? Regardless, sometimes it was better to throw caution to the wind. 100 gold pieces certainly sweetened the deal enough for him to deal with the consequences later.

"I too accept. A quick jaunt through the desert won't hurt too badly."