Caesar's Legacy of Fire IC

[Hattish Thing]

"Sam" Laverne:

Spoiler: Elen:

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The lost girl

Sam finally looks cooperative and... subdued. Subdued, that's the word, yep. Elen is proud of herself. All in all, it's not so bad she ended up in this dirt-hole: she might just be able to give some guidance to these ruffians. Maybe, just maybe, even teach them some manners along the way. Here's some positive thinking: make the best out of this stupid situation. Elen beams with self-satisfaction. Once she sees that, the merchant princess is certain to recognize her worth and send her home... wherever that might be. Elen smiles vanishes at that thought. She scowls.

---

On their way towards Zastoran's wagon, Elen walks next to the cute blonde guy. Constantine? Constant? Something like that. At least Sam has an easy name. When she thinks no one is looking, Elen suddenly waves her hand in front of cute blonde guy's face.

---

“Your chest. What's in it? Alchemist's fire?”
Elen's jaw drops... but... but... but she definitely looked like she got the message a minute ago. She looked so... subdued? Damn you Sam! She's tricked them with her oafish subdued act! Elen breaks. Her bracelets and metal armbands jingle as she dramatically puts her face in her right palm. Positive thinking! Make the best of it. Between her fingers, Elen watches the halfling's reaction.

Spoiler: OOC

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Sense motive, on Zastoran, see if he gives anything away, [roll0].

After a blank second, Elen looses it and starts nervously laughing loud and so totally unladylike. “HAHAHA! Damn you, Sam, that's, like, another good one!” She punches Sam, not so playfully and more than a bit angrily on the shoulder. “Hello father, I'm Elen, she's Sam, and she's like definitely the best joker around here!” Another not so playful pat on Sam's back. Elen is at a loss what more to say. Their barbarian guide seems to know what she's doing. Best let her ask the questions here.

When the blonde one starts laughing uncontrollably, Sam glances down to her, raising an eyebrow high as a concerned look washes over her tanned face. Was she alright? Was she having some kind or nervous fit, or was the weather starting to get to her again, just like back by the wagon during the journey to the camp? The brawler doesn't do much apart from shift awkwardly, unsure of what to do or say. See, these were problems that couldn't be solved with a simple nod or a shake of the head.

Or her fists.

These were not the problems that Sam enjoyed solving, she wasn't very good at these. However, when Elen punched at Sam's shoulder, the rather intimidatingly broad and tall woman stands up a bit taller than she was previously, staring down at the much smaller woman with a fairly annoyed expression on her face. She raises her head high and clenches her fists as she drapes her arms over her chest, her bulky muscles flexing as she does so. It was a silent warning, but hopefully the subtle gesture would serve as a suitable reminder that the brawler could probably break Elen's skull between her thighs.

After that business is done and over with, Sam turns her head to look towards the halfling once more.

Spoiler: Father Zastoran

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Father Zastoran was just about to answer Sam with an excited look in his eyes when Elen cuts him off. And then Ewen spoke.

"Brother against brother? Thats a tragedy, truly it is. It saddens my heart to see people, whether they be human or halfling or elf or what have you betray another." He shakes his head slowly, and then turns to Sam. "But as for alchemist's fire! No, sadly not. Wish I did. Can't say I'm very good at the whole alchemy thing, but I do dabble from time to time." He gives Sam a cheery smile, before continuing. "Do you happen to have any alchemy experience?" He seems eager and nervous, as if suppressing a hope that he thought was unlikely. Probably because of Sam's appearance. But hope springs eternal...

Sam smiles a bit towards the halfling at this point, which was probably a good sign. The brawler couldn't help but find the tiny little man endearing, he reminded her so much of home. She could practically see the miniature priest lazily munching on a bright red apple back at the orchard's she grew up getting lost in. These were good memories, worth remembering.

She'd never let them go.

After a moment with an inquisitive look on her face, Sam shrugs and smiles even wider. It was a very warming thing to see. Why not give the little guy the chance to show off something he liked doing? Surely someone as nice as he seemed to be couldn't hurt someone else. And even if he had, the hlafling was hardly much of a threat to the brawler, in her mind.

Her tone is a bit more pleasant, if a tad cautious, still. "Uhh. When I was young, one of my village elders practiced that stuff. I used to watch with my da. Sometimes I got to crush up the powder."

"You could show me what you know?"

[WalkingTheShade]

The lost girl

Was that, like, defiance in Sam's eyes? Definitely defiance! Elen won't let Sam distract her from the task at hand with her unending provocations. She'll settle this score later. Oh yes, she will! Well, at least Zastoran seems nice and cheerful, just like every halfling should be. Elen feels reassured. He seems to be a cultured man, err, half-man.

“Eloais was a good chap. Cultured, unlike the rest of these barbarians.” Zastoran thinks just like her about those barbarians. Elen smiles happily at the revelation: she's not the only sane person in this camp! “Oh, he liked playing with his trinkets and pretending to know the future, but we would spend many a night discussing the poetry of Bellianais or the music of far-off Absalom. I'll miss the ol' bugger.”

Elen's smile turns genuinely wan and lightly sad as she kneels and puts a heartfelt hand on Zastoran's shoulder.

“Even if I never knew him, I share your hurt in this difficult moment, Father. Losing a man of culture is always a greater pain, even more in these hard and lonely lands. Pardon me if it's too soon to ask, but have you thought about your friend's interment? I'm not much of a poet or musician but, if you think he would have appreciated dancing, I would be happy to perform in his memory at this difficult time. Maybe this would help lift the spirits of all our travel companions in this difficult time?”

At Zastoran's employ of the word ruffians, Elen nods urgently, suppressing an urge to whimper: I knoooow, right, I was forced to travel with, nah, practically abducted for all means and purposes by THESE ruffians around me during the last days!

[caesar193]

Father Zastoran almost hops eagerly to his feet when Sam speaks, but a look from Garavel keeps him sitting. "Ah, perhaps another time. Really, I'm little more than a collector, anyway."

To Elen he said "Merciful Nethys, the chap just passed! Barely five minutes ago! Its barely sunk in! No, I haven't thought about his internment. But I don't think we'll have time for a long ceremony, anyway. Now that you chaps have arrived, we'll probably need to move on soon. But now that you mention it.... If memory serves, I do believe an old ruined monastary lies nearby. Perhaps we could inter his remains up there? I'm sure some sort of graveyard or crypt would be there."

Spoiler: OoC

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I'd really rather not have things stagnate with the Zastoran, so one more question from each of you and then Garavel will say its time to move on to the next person/group of your choice. Speaking of which, who are you planning on speaking to next? List in the OoC, anyone on the list might be helpful. As might a close examination of the burnt wagon.

[WalkingTheShade]

The lost girl

Haven't thought about his interment? True, he hasn't been dead THAT long, but does the halfling think they were going to drag the body behind the caravan for the next week or something? What's that with people being so emotional! Elen sighs. “Again, Father, I am sorry for being so rash. We all know the merchant-princess wants to move fast, hence my question. I'm deeply sorry if it hurt you.” Elen lowers her head apologetically.

Spoiler: OOC

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Elen has no questions for the halfling. She'll follow the group wherever they go next.

[Mornings]

---

Ewen'vel Fritz Tel'Tandis - The Bathetic Sentinel

---

Not sure what he could really make of the less-than-productive exchange, he bit down on his cigar. Was this really some kind of internal affair? Or an attack? There seemed to be a lack of concrete facts with which to begin any kind of deduction - Worse still, this was not his field of expertise. Far removed from an investigator, he hardly knew where he'd begin. He nodded at the short priest. "If ya' not the mind, or da' time fer it'; I'll administer this man's final rights. Gota' find this burial ground first doh'. Don't remember seein' no crypt an' graves out 'ere in da' frozen desert... If ya' can handle it ya'self, I've half-a-mind teh' take a good look at that ol' wagon. Might find somethin' or other buried n' burned; can't say I'll know what needs knowin', but I'll know when I see it, ye?"

[Phasm]

"Indeed, there might be evidence to be found." Rashida nods. "There is a monastery nearby that once housed the faithful of Sarenrae. I do not know whether it is currently inhabited, or what manner of beings might live there if so. It is the wish of Lady Cynore, she who leads the Lambent Citadel, that the monastery be investigated and cleansed if possible. Once it is safe to enter, all are welcome to be interred in Sarenrae's holy ground."

[caesar193]

Garavel then stepped forward. "I believe we've asked all the questions we needed to. We bid you good day, Father." He inclined his head respectfully.

"Going so soon? Ah, well, 'tis a busy day. I have affairs of my own to attend to." He stood and started climbing up the steps, before turning back to Elen. "And no, m'dear, no need to apologize! Death makes fools of us all." And with that he clambered into his wagon and shut the door.

Garavel turned to the group. "There are many in this camp. Perhaps it would be best if we split up and talked with the rest separately? The sun claws its way ever nearer to the horizon, and I believe we must still talk to the camel drivers, the various guards, and... Dashki. And, naturally, search the wagon."

[WalkingTheShade]

The lost girl

No... nononono... Spliting up would be worse than staying together... If they split-up, Elen's going to definitely have to SPEAK to them. Gods! “Alrighty, Garavel!” Make the best of it, make the best of it, she has to pick the least lame of all these people. Garavel is old enough to be her father, so he's right out. Elen looks the group over with a smile. Barbarian? Dog-kisser? Blue hair... or cute blond guy?

The barbarian is by far the less anoying of the bunch, but Elen doesn't know what she thinks most of the time. Dog-kisser looks bearable, but she can't make out what he's saying half of the time. Blue hair doesn't talk too much, but she's liable to start a fight anytime; Elen doesn't want to be caught in the middle of it. Cute blond guy, is well, nice and cute and all, but she doesn't want to come as desperate around him; she likes him—even though she's sure he totally groped her when she passed out—but he's going to have to work for it if he wants to spend time with her.

“Good! I'll go with... huh...” Gods, Elen has to pick-up before anyone else, or she'll get the scraps, but that's no choice! “... Sam!” Well, it's the only name she can remember for sure. Elen will woman up to her responsibilities: she will prevent Sam same from getting into trouble! Elen passes her arm gently under Sam's, cheerfully asking her: “so, who you wanna go see next, girlfriend?”

[Hattish Thing]

"Sam" Laverne:

Spoiler: Elen:

Show

The lost girl

No... nononono... Spliting up would be worse than staying together... If they split-up, Elen's going to definitely have to SPEAK to them. Gods! “Alrighty, Garavel!” Make the best of it, make the best of it, she has to pick the least lame of all these people. Garavel is old enough to be her father, so he's right out. Elen looks the group over with a smile. Barbarian? Dog-kisser? Blue hair... or cute blond guy?

The barbarian is by far the less anoying of the bunch, but Elen doesn't know what she thinks most of the time. Dog-kisser looks bearable, but she can't make out what he's saying half of the time. Blue hair doesn't talk too much, but she's liable to start a fight anytime; Elen doesn't want to be caught in the middle of it. Cute blond guy, is well, nice and cute and all, but she doesn't want to come as desperate around him; she likes him—even though she's sure he totally groped her when she passed out—but he's going to have to work for it if he wants to spend time with her.

“Good! I'll go with... huh...” Gods, Elen has to pick-up before anyone else, or she'll get the scraps, but that's no choice! “... Sam!” Well, it's the only name she can remember for sure. Elen will woman up to her responsibilities: she will prevent Sam same from getting into trouble! Elen passes her arm gently under Sam's, cheerfully asking her: “so, who you wanna go see next, girlfriend?”

Sam continues to look over the halfling, listening and observing the conversation with that ever-present look of neutrality on her face. If it wasn't for her fairly expressive caramel-colored eyes, it'd be practically impossible to determine what she was thinking. Unfortunately, her messy blue locks frequently fall over her eyes, making it even more difficult to determine the brawler's emotional state. After Father Zastoran packs himself away and closes the door behind him, the brawny woman shifts her jaw, unconsciously biting at her lip with an uneasy look on her face. Interacting with the halfling had conjured up some memories best kept in the back of her mind. Still, the memories reminded her of what she had to do, and so the husky warrior nods with respect towards Garavel before taking a deep breath.

She glances down to the gnoll-leather wrappings she wore around her powerful looking arms, and around her bulky legs.

After stretching her shoulders back and cracking her neck, the woman runs a hand through her hair, taking a moment to keep several of the dyed strands back out of her eyes. The dye was starting to fade, revealing small strands of her natural, light brown hair. Sam knew she probably wasn't going to get very much on charisma alone, but quietly decides that it'd be best to head on to visit this supposed gnoll expert. Perhaps Dashki may have some information on what may have happened to the gnolls she was hunting for.

That'd be nice.

As she wordlessly turns to head for Dashki, Elen wraps a much smaller arm between her own. The sudden movement would have normally caught someone off-guard, but Sam's lightning quick reflexes kicked in, and she turns her head with a bewildered look on her face. The hell was the blonde one doing? "..." Sam blinks a few times before attempting to shrug off Elen's hold on her. Now was not the time for being friendly, there were important things to do. "Don't call me that." It was a rather straightforward request, but there wasn't much showing on her face to determine whether or not the powerful warrior was upset, or just against the term.

She continues after an awkward second or two. "Dashki. You can follow, I guess."

Another shrug, then a small smile, which fades as soon as it arrived. After apparently speaking as much as she intended to, the woman begins to walk towards the general area where Dashki supposedly lived.

[WalkingTheShade]

The lost girl

“I... huh... I didn't mean anything by it... I'm...” Elen's voice trails off as Sam continues walking toward "Dashki", whoever that might be. Elen stays in place. She's not used to being rebuffed. She was just trying to be friendly. She suddenly feels more lonely than for days, or maybe weeks. Elen takes a deep breath in. Don't you cry! You're like what? A baby? Keep your chin high. Do not give up!

Elen wipes her eyes, then runs a few steps to catch up with Sam. “So... huh... What do your friends call you? Sam, or do you have a nickname or something? I like the blue on your hair. Heard blue was all the rage at the satrap's court last season. Why did you pick blue?”

[Hattish Thing]

"Sam" Laverne:

Spoiler: Rovena:

Show

The lost girl

“I... huh... I didn't mean anything by it... I'm...” Elen's voice trails off as Sam continues walking toward "Dashki", whoever that might be. Elen stays in place. She's not used to being rebuffed. She was just trying to be friendly. She suddenly feels more lonely than for days, or maybe weeks. Elen takes a deep breath in. Don't you cry! You're like what? A baby? Keep your chin high. Do not give up!

Elen wipes her eyes, then runs a few steps to catch up with Sam. “So... huh... What do your friends call you? Sam, or do you have a nickname or something? I like the blue on your hair. Heard blue was all the rage at the satrap's court last season. Why did you pick blue?”

The brawler begins her walk towards the other end of the camp in search of Dashki, walking relatively slowly as she does so. Though she was eager to figure out whatever information the camp's supposed gnoll authority may have regarding the unusual fires, or perhaps about her own private history. It was a long shot, and Sam was almost certain that she'd be turning away with very little in the way of evidence, but any chance at learning more about what may have happened to those she held dear was a chance worth taking. It was somewhat nice out. Had the scent of smoke faded away a little quicker, the camp might even have been a relaxing place. A comfortable chair, a chilled drink, and a long nap would be absolutely wonderful right now. The desert had a beauty to it, it was difficult to see, for sure, but it was there. Sam had always made sure she took the time to appreciate the beauty in all things, and there was just something so alluring about the endless dunes, and the glimmer of the hot sun on the horizon.

Never had she thought she'd be somewhere like this, alone in the vastness, sailing a sea of sand.

Well, perhaps she wasn't completely alone. The brawler glances towards Elen, noticing that the smaller woman appeared to be looking somewhat down, as she catches up to her. Perhaps she had sustained some kind of sprained ankle or something? Sam felt out of place, but the little one was so obviously not a person meant for this life. What in the world was she doing out here?

Sam continues to walk slowly, chuckling a little bit as Elen speaks. Court? What? "Heh, nah. Just Sam." She does smile lightly as Elen compliments her hair. Sam had always felt rather proud of it. Her hair was important to her.

"Thanks. It's blue 'cause I like the color."

"Reminds me of the sky. Or the stars at night."

"Reminds me of home."

She's fairly quiet, after that.

[caesar193]

Elen and Sam

The pair quickly arrive to find Dashki by the main fire. When they had left, Garavel had pointed Dashki out, and it was fairly easy to tell the gnoll expert from the rest. The guards might be unkempt, but Dashki puts them to shame. The smoke from the fire had, at first, masked his smell. But now... Now they got hit with the full affect. The last time he took a bath was probably when he was born, and the rags he wore were the same. He looked up from poking at the fire with a stick.

"Eh? You the newbies? Whaddya want?"

[Phasm]

Splitting up is a logical use of the waning daylight. So Rashida doesn't protest; hopefully Elen will be able to get something out of Dashki, because the stoic Sam certainly won't. Elen seems a bit... overcivilized... for Rashida's taste, but beggars can't be choosers. "I will go investigate the wagon. If anyone else wishes to come, another set of eyes is always useful."

[caesar193]

Rashida (and any that accompany her)

Garavel nodded. "I trust you know where Eloais' wagon is?" He said, before Rashida left. And then he turned and left, either by himself or with the others, to their destination.

Rashida finds Eloais wagon's remnants near the main fire, catching sight (and the smell) of Dashki as he and Elen and Sam talked. The wagon's charred remnants still maintain their structure. The walls, singed and charred, stand mostly intact. A good hit would knock them down. Scattered in the sands outside the wagon are several more cards- Harrow cards, by the looks of them.

Inside, things are more sparse. The floor, weakened by the fire, had collapsed under the weight of furniture. The remnants of a table, some starry and mystical cloth on it, sits collapsed on its side. Puddles of hardened wax, some with wicks still in, cement the table to the ground.

Eloais' body has yet to be taken away. It seems nobody in particular had wanted to do it- understandably, of course, and nobody had been commanded to.

Spoiler: Search the Body? DC 20 Perception

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The body, as Almah previously proclaimed, does not reveal any signs of struggle or violence. As best as you can tell, natural causes was Eloais' end.

Spoiler: Search the Wagon?

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No perception check required. You find 55 blackened gold coins- which no one will notice you taking unless Ewen decided to come with. And some Harrow cards, a few candle stubs, and some general burned detritus. And ashes, of course.

Spoiler: Look/Search Outside? DC 16 Perception Check

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As you search the exterior, you occasionally note that Dashki is watching you carefully, doing his best to be discrete about it, to you and Elen/Sam.

Spoiler: Another Option?

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Um, I don't know. What else is there to do?

[Hattish Thing]

"Sam" Laverne:

Spoiler: Dashki:

Show

Elen and Sam

The pair quickly arrive to find Dashki by the main fire. When they had left, Garavel had pointed Dashki out, and it was fairly easy to tell the gnoll expert from the rest. The guards might be unkempt, but Dashki puts them to shame. The smoke from the fire had, at first, masked his smell. But now... Now they got hit with the full affect. The last time he took a bath was probably when he was born, and the rags he wore were the same. He looked up from poking at the fire with a stick.

"Eh? You the newbies? Whaddya want?"

Though Sam waits patiently for a response from her new companion, she quickly finds herself distracted by something that absolutely reeked of filth. The horrendous smell was incredibly distracting, and what may have been a longer moment appears to have been cut short. The small smile she temporarily sported for her curious friend quickly fades into a fairly exquisite scowl. Here she was daydreaming about the exotic wonders that the desert oceans boasted, forgetting, for a moment, that things and people like this supposed "Dashki" still existed, and that in reality, most things in the desert aren't particularly fun to be around.

Or good-smelling.

She had almost hoped that the man would end up being some sort of knightly fellow, like the one's she'd heard of in the stories. But, alas, this man appeared to be nothing more than just another mercenary type.

Sam wasn't surprised.

Once Dashki growls out his dour greeting, the brawler stands up straight, folding her arms over her chest in her customary position. The woman leans to the side a bit, gazing down at the gnoll expert with a look of general disappointment. This was it? This was Dashki? Sam takes a deep breath before raising an eyebrow at the malodorous individual, reaching into a pocket of her top as she does so. She pulls out a small package of some kind of tobacco chew, the same kind she'd been chewing on the way here. After carefully unwrapping the package, she flips a chunk of the chew into her mouth before biting down hard, seeming to be making a point out of how little effort she was willing to take to respond to the man.

Finally, she speaks to him as she slips into a more authoritative tone. "You need to answer some questions." Sam looks into the fire before continuing.

"Where were you during the fire?

"An' don't lie to me."

Spoiler: OOC:

Show

Intimidate, rolled in OOC: (15)

[WalkingTheShade]

The lost girl

"Reminds me of home."

“Aaaaw, really? right! And, where is it that you're fro... what's that horrendeous smell?” Elen smiles disappears as she realizes there's an odorous beggar right there in the camp. She starts ignoring him to continue on their way (that's what you do to the unkempt poor) when two sudden revelations hit her. First, Sam is NOT ignoring him; second, the beggar must be that "Dashki" they went to meet. That does nothing good for Elen's mood. Dashki is even worse than her companions, Garavel and all these barbarians together. Whenever she thinks things can't get worse...

Then Sam starts talking to him with that threatening tone. Really, Elen is so... aggravated she wouldn't mind Sam kicked his ass right now. Elen affects a panicked look. However advancing seems disgusting, she advances to put herself between Dashki and Sam, turning towards the latter. Breath with your mouth, girl!

“Please Sam, don't do it!” Elen gives a discreet wink to Sam, hoping blue-hair will get the message, this time. She then turns toward Dashki. “She's mad, I beg you, please answer her!”

Spoiler: OOC

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Aid Another on Sam's Intimidation. Roll against DC 10, if successful, Sam gets a +2: intimidate (1d20+3)[8].

[caesar193]

Sam and Elen

Dashki looked up at Sam, and then at Elen, before quickly scrambling to his feet, and gripping the hilt of a dagger- without drawing it- tightly. "I didn't do nothin'! I was right here, eatin' lunch!" He looks back and forth between them, before continuing, talking mostly to Elen. "Ok, look- an' you keep 'er away from me! I might be... a bit too fond of Almah, sure, but I didn't do nuthin! The idiot burned a hundred candles in there. He probably just got unlucky. We're in gnoll country- those damned pugwampis probably caused it."

Spoiler: OoC

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Feel free to roll a knowledge check, any of them, on pugwampis, if you'd like.

[Hattish Thing]

"Sam" Laverne:

Spoiler: Elen:

Show

The lost girl

"Reminds me of home."

“Aaaaw, really? right! And, where is it that you're fro... what's that horrendeous smell?” Elen smiles disappears as she realizes there's an odorous beggar right there in the camp. She starts ignoring him to continue on their way (that's what you do to the unkempt poor) when two sudden revelations hit her. First, Sam is NOT ignoring him; second, the beggar must be that "Dashki" they went to meet. That does nothing good for Elen's mood. Dashki is even worse than her companions, Garavel and all these barbarians together. Whenever she thinks things can't get worse...

Then Sam starts talking to him with that threatening tone. Really, Elen is so... aggravated she wouldn't mind Sam kicked his ass right now. Elen affects a panicked look. However advancing seems disgusting, she advances to put herself between Dashki and Sam, turning towards the latter. Breath with your mouth, girl!

“Please Sam, don't do it!” Elen gives a discreet wink to Sam, hoping blue-hair will get the message, this time. She then turns toward Dashki. “She's mad, I beg you, please answer her!”

Spoiler: OOC

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Aid Another on Sam's Intimidation. Roll against DC 10, if successful, Sam gets a +2: intimidate [roll0].

With a confused expression on her face, Sam frowns down at Elen. What was she doing now? The brawler certainly didn't need any help to get the information she needed out of the guy.

He was clearly very suspicious, not to mention rude.

Which is even worse than suspicious.

Sam shakes her head silently at Elen before gently trying to rest her large hands down upon her shoulders. She smiles lightly before attempting to simply move the much smaller woman to the side, as if carrying a kitten by the neck and dropping it away. After that business is done with, Sam steps forward, reaching back to pull her heavy shield out, calmly, not even bothering to look too closely at Dashki.

The brawler mutters to Elen softly, before staring up at the gnoll expert again. "Heh. Relax."

---

Spoiler: Dashki:

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Sam and Elen

Dashki looked up at Sam, and then at Elen, before quickly scrambling to his feet, and gripping the hilt of a dagger- without drawing it- tightly. "I didn't do nothin'! I was right here, eatin' lunch!" He looks back and forth between them, before continuing, talking mostly to Elen. "Ok, look- an' you keep 'er away from me! I might be... a bit too fond of Almah, sure, but I didn't do nuthin! The idiot burned a hundred candles in there. He probably just got unlucky. We're in gnoll country- those damned pugwampis probably caused it."

Spoiler: OoC

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Feel free to roll a knowledge check, any of them, on pugwampis, if you'd like.

As she gazes towards Dashki, the brawler snaps a buckle of the shield over her arm before glaring in a much harsher fashion. She notices him playing around with the dagger and frowns even deeper. This man was about as charismatic as a cactus, and certainly not fun to talk with. Perhaps violence was the answer in this particular situation.

She points at the man with her free hand before continuing. "Hand down, please."

"Pugwampis? What?"

[WalkingTheShade]

The lost girl
“Pug-vampires! Horrible, nasty beasts that... huh... do, like, very bad things to you! And to the people you like!” Elen tries to sound confident, just like she's in control and knows exactly how things are supposed to turn out.

“By the way, Sam, I think that guy told us everything he knows. He's visibly shi... sorry, pooping himself.” Elen takes a few steps back from both Sam and Dashki showing her empty palms peacefully. She turns towards Dashki. “Listen, huh... guy? You did definitely tell us everything you know, right? Nobody needs to get hurt, I mean, we work for Almah, and you're big on her, right?”

Spoiler: OOC

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Classical good cop/bad cop act.
Diplomacy to influence Dashki to speak more: (1d20+8)[27].
Sense motive to figure out if he's hiding something: (1d20+4)[8].

[Mornings]

---

Ewen'vel Fritz Tel'Tandis - The Bathetic Sentinel

---

Not seeing much of a reason to idle in front of the short man's mobile residence. The scarred priest turned away leaving it to the halfling to decide what he intended to do with the remains after they were recovered. He lifted the large metal device which was stuck in the ground at his side moving with Rashida to the burnt out wagon. He looked on at the destroyed vehicle. "Damn... Dats' a sorry sight, dat is. Guess it's a good time as any teh' poke 'round abit." He made a wide circle around the wagon first, looking for anything which might catch his attention before pulling himself up into the interior. He slammed down his massive moon-shaped medallion into the sand below and drew his sword to poke through the burned debris. After taking a fair inspection, he pulled himself up again to inspect the top of the wagon hoping to see further-more intense fire damage which might hint at the source the fire first started when it burned the metal bands and canvas of it's ceiling.

Spoiler: Perception

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Exterior: (1d20+1)[19]

Interior: (1d20+1)[19]

Above: (1d20+1)[19]

[Phasm]

Rashida simply nods to Ewen and hops into the wagon while he circles round the outside. Even if he sets his enormous moon statue thing down, his armor is heavy enough that the burned planks of the floor might not hold him. She wants to get a good look before Ewen comes inside. Several gold coins, blackened by soot and ashes, come up. She shows them to him. "Should he have no instructions to send these to next of kin, we now have funds for healing potions."

Once the moon-priest is done outside and Rashida is satisfied with her search inside, she jumps down and begins her own search of the outside. As the inquisitor slowly makes her way around the burned wagon, she feels a prickle on the back of her neck. Someone's watching me. She casually shifts around as if to look at a different patch of soot. Her keffiyeh hides sharp brown eyes in shadow, and she catches a glimpse of Dashki. Sure enough, he's trying to watch her while talking to Elen and Sam.

Well, well, well. Isn't that interesting?

Spoiler: Perception

Show

Inspecting the body: (1d20+6)[18]

Taking 10 on searching the outside.

[caesar193]

Elen and Sam

Seemingly glad for the change in subject, Dashki takes his hand off his dagger to gesture. PugWAMPis," he says, glancing at Elen to make sure she got the correct pronounciation, "About yea tall." He holds his hands apart a short distance, about two and a half feet. "Terrible critters what crawled up from the Darklands below the earth. 'Jackal rats,' some folkds call 'em, on account of their pointed heads. They worship gnolls as gods and infest their communities like rats. Wherever pugwampis go, bad luck is sure to follow. The gnolls hate pugwampis because of it, and try to kill them all the time. But they always come back. Perhaps their bad luck caused the fortune-man's candles to start a fire? Yes, pugwampis. I am certain it was pugwampis."

Rashida and Ewen

Most of the roof had collapsed inward in the fire, and the rest is mostly semi-circular bands of charred wood made to hold up the cloth roof. Ewen doesn't find much of anything up there that he couldn't all ready see from below.

Ash and burnt cinders litter the burnt outside. The sand and dirt is heavily disturbed, but that is too be expected from all the feet running around trying to put out the fire. Burnt harrows cards and other scraps from within stick out of the sand. One catches Rashida's eye- the card known as The Joke.

[Phasm]

Rashida crouches down to inspect the burned cards. She's not familiar with the meaning of Harrow cards, but perhaps someone from the north might know. One in particular sticks out, and she plucks it from the sand. "The Joke." Rising to her feet, the hunter pokes her head back into the wagon.

"Brother Ewen, are you familiar with Harrow cards?" She holds up the Joke. "I found this outside, less burned than the others." Looking around, Rashida lowers her voice. "And the hunter Dashki has been watching us while he speaks with Sam and Elen. He was trying to be discreet about it." A smile flashes from the shadows of her keffiyeh. "Not discreet enough."

[WalkingTheShade]

The lost girl

Elen head's bend on the side while her eyes narrow and her mouth pouts. “Oh, pugVAMPIs that's... right, of course... I hadn't heard well, that's all...”

Elen turns back to Sam. “Do you think the guy's making this up? I don't think he's making this up.” Elen turns back to Dashki. “Are you making all this up, guy? Because, let's say it was, like, pugVAMPIs. How could we prove it was them? Do they leave some kind of tracks or signature or something? Like, anything? Because Almah wants to know for sure.” Elen winks at Dashki with that last sentence.

[Hattish Thing]

"Sam" Laverne:

Spoiler: Dashki

Show

Elen and Sam

Seemingly glad for the change in subject, Dashki takes his hand off his dagger to gesture. PugWAMPis," he says, glancing at Elen to make sure she got the correct pronounciation, "About yea tall." He holds his hands apart a short distance, about two and a half feet. "Terrible critters what crawled up from the Darklands below the earth. 'Jackal rats,' some folkds call 'em, on account of their pointed heads. They worship gnolls as gods and infest their communities like rats. Wherever pugwampis go, bad luck is sure to follow. The gnolls hate pugwampis because of it, and try to kill them all the time. But they always come back. Perhaps their bad luck caused the fortune-man's candles to start a fire? Yes, pugwampis. I am certain it was pugwampis."

Sam leans back, visibly relaxing a bit as the man takes his hand off his weapon, though she doesn't bother lowering her shield. After all, she wasn't the one currently being suspected of having something to do with the great fire. As Dashki continues to talk, the warrior sighs. He seemed like he was telling the truth, and perhaps he truly was. But it seemed as if there was something very wrong.

How convenient for him it would be, if the local magical wildlife was to blame for the fire, instead of the supposed gnoll expert.

She'd never heard of a pugwampi anyway.

After quietly pondering a few things in her head, she speaks once more to Dashki. "You seem to know a lot about gnolls. I do too." She gestures at the gnoll-leather she wears, and reaches into a pocket to pull out a small necklace fastened with gnoll teeth and gnoll claws. After displaying the token, she puts it away once more.

"Why should we trust you?"

Spoiler: Elen:

Show

The lost girl

Elen head's bend on the side while her eyes narrow and her mouth pouts. “Oh, pugVAMPIs that's... right, of course... I hadn't heard well, that's all...”

Elen turns back to Sam. “Do you think the guy's making this up? I don't think he's making this up.” Elen turns back to Dashki. “Are you making all this up, guy? Because, let's say it was, like, pugVAMPIs. How could we prove it was them? Do they leave some kind of tracks or signature or something? Like, anything? Because Almah wants to know for sure.” Elen winks at Dashki with that last sentence.

The brawler doesn't respond to Elen verbally, instead shaking her head.

[Mornings]

---

Ewen'vel Fritz Tel'Tandis - The Bathetic Sentinel

---

The scarred priest milled about conducting his search, paying little mind to the discarded bits laying about within the interior. Plenty of things stood out to him, but none of them truly meant anything. The clue to connect the dots was just as elusive as ever.

The man nodded affirmingly. "Ye, know a thing 'er two 'bout dem cards. Dats some symbolic card, dat. Somethin' bout challenge only bested wif' wit an' trickery. Funny thing, dat'. Just da' same doh... Not a pastor nor cleric. Not an acolyte neither. Brother, is title reserved fer da' faithful of such an orientation. Graduated Seminary, I did. Have some such small bit I fancy a congregation, too. To guide and mentor Brothers of the faith, or those who look towards da gods fer answer... Dats why they call priests, men like the short-one and meh, Father. Important-bit, dat. Reminds us our reason an' all dat. Ye?" He nodded to himself as he concluded the short monologue.

[Phasm]

"My apologies, Father Ewen." Rashida bows her head to him, embarrassed. "I am unfamiliar with the faiths of the north. Perhaps when this task is done, we can talk of our religions." Studying the scorched card, she frowns. "I wonder if there is any meaning to these cards, or if they were simply scattered at random by the blaze and the winds." There's really no way to tell, unless... "Do you have the spell to see magic?"

[caesar193]

Elen and Sam

Dashki narrows his eyes at the sight of the gnoll tokens, choosing to ignore Elen's continued mispronounciation. "Y'aint got a reason ta trust me," he replied. "'Cept, o' course, Almah's the one callin' the shots 'round here, and she trusts me. Haven't failed her yet, ain't about to start ainy time soon. Now, why don't'chou run along and go bother someone else, aye?"

He turned away, stalking away from them.

"What did he say?" Garavel replied, having just arrived. "The camel drivers have seen nothing... and know less." He ended sourly.

Rashida and Ewen

Spoiler: If Detect Magic is Cast...

Show

You don't detect any magic.

[WalkingTheShade]

The lost girl

Elen frowns at Dashki's back, wondering how long the stench will linger behind him. Shaking her head, she sighs then whispers to Sam: “so rude and disagreeable... gods...”

She however turns to Garavel with a smile. “Well, except for the stench, and the rudeness, that went, like, quite well. He thinks pugv... sorry, pugWampis, some kind of unlucky lesser gnolls did it. Of course, he's got no way to prove that. But I think he's so totally loyal to the merchant-princess.” Elen looks to the sides (as if they were at court with people wont to listen to them, not alone in the middle of the desert) and her eyes light up as she's about to share a piece of gossip. She comes near Garavel, whispering again: “All truth be told, he seems... quite smitten with Almah.”

[caesar193]

Elen and Sam

Garavel sighed. "I had not heard of pugwampis until I met Dashki, and I still have not seen one. But Almah will no doubt wish to investigate these claims. And though I do not find Dashki to be the most appealing of companions, and though he is, in my opinion, the most likely to be capable of the deed, Almah trusts him. He has not failed us yet, and for that, at least for Almah, means we must give him the benefit of the doubt."