Anauroch - The Great Desert

[Brainpiercing]

[spoiler]Fast-forward two hours...[/spoiler]

Nothing much happened during the wait for Holdamir. The Hound dropped in just under two hours after the fight had ended. He looked around a little startled, but then immediately approached Torgthen.

'I have news', he said, unceremoniously. 'The town of Baztgirn is under siege, assaulted by a grim horde of strange creatures - deformed, with tentacles, and other strange mutations. The town defences are strong, and they are holding out at this time. However, they cannot give support to the cause of defeating the Drow sisters or the dragon.'
He made a dramatic pause, but already drew breath to go on, lest Torgthen interupt.
'I have talked with the Elders, and they unanimously agreed that Baztgirn was not in grave enough danger to recall you, until further notice. However, they very much wish to discover the cause of these mutations, and the mastermind behind the assault. They request that you renew your efforts in that direction. Should they need you, they have asked me to give you this, for you to carry no your person, and not put it in an extradimensional space...'
He handed a small dull gray coin to Torgthen. It didn't look like it was useful as currency.

He then looked towards the MARC.
'For you, too, I have news. The Elders of Baztgirn told me that recently some ruins were discovered, not unlike those where you were found. They are further to the north, they would gladly tell you about their location.'

[Sohala]

Excited at the prospect of getting word from home, even after just the short time away, Torgthen jumped to his feet when he noticed that Holdamir had returned. As he laid out his news though, the dwarf began to pale slightly. He kept his wits about himself, letting the hound finish its tale before saying anything. Only after accepting the offered token did the dwarf reply, "With such events unfolding I will heed the council's choice, but I must ask you, did you see what the besiegers looks like for yourself?"

[Brainpiercing]

Holdamir shook his head.
'Indeed I did not. I remained in the centre of the town, and the siege itself did not so much manifest in magical barrage and all-out assaults on the walls, but rather mostly in raids on any traffic going in and out of the city, and occasional attacks on the city itself by small parties that teleported into unguarded areas and ravaged a few buildings. The goals of the attackers don't seem to be clear, but the town military has its hands full with securing caravans and dealing with insurgents.'

[Sohala]

The teleporting troubled Torgthen, he visibly furrowed his brow in thought, "Few creatures native to Toril could shift their location on a whim. Could they be mages?" He thought to himself, just then the squashed misshapen demon caught his eye, giving him an idea "What if they are not native...we have seen for ourselves that even those demons had been altered, but are they connected?" Finally he replied again to the hound, "You must have heard reports to describe them then, did any of them sound similar to that flat thing?" He pointed over to the demon that MARC had stepped on. "We fought him and some of his bigger kin this morning."

[Brainpiercing]

The Hound Archon shrugged.
'They might have been similar. They mentioned tentacles, I see no tentacles on this one. However, it seems they were actually other creatures that had been changed, mutated, in some way, so seems likely that they were changed by the same influence. I can hardly imagine two such forces at work in the desert at the same time.'

[Thistledown Thurbertaut]

"Allow me to return in aid of Batzgirn." the MARC boomed.  "I will help them defend against the siege, then investigate the ruins they have found.  Perhaps others of my kind have also slumbered there..."

[Sohala]

He finished with a sigh.

As MARC sounded off a small wave of relief passed through the dwarf,

[Brainpiercing]

Holdamir grinned weakly.
'If there are two, let us at least hope they don't like each other...'

Devanar approached the group from where he had been sitting in the shade of a palm tree.
'Now that you have returned', he adressed Holdamir, 'it would be wise to move on. The demons aren't sleeping, and possibly planning our destruction while we are waiting.'

Holdamir nodded.
'Indeed, move on we must, but this is also the point where our ways must part. Honoured Torgthen, you are a great champion on the side of good, and indeed we still have a debt to repay. Spread thin as our forces may be, should you need help, you should try to reach use - by magical means seems most promising - and we will honour that debt. But we cannot accompany you now, we have our own important missions to carry out, and in any case, these demons are beyond Handromal's or my possibilities.'

He bowed to the dwarf.

In the background, Cat smirked to himself with his feline face.
[PRIVATE for Daelric][spoiler]

Blah blah blah, forces of good, blah blah, he thought privately towards Daelric. [/spoiler]

[Sohala]

The dwarf gave a slight nod at the attempt of humor, "It might help, but we cannot have everything."

"We seem to each have our own battles to fight and parts to play. Go help your forces, and may the circumstances when we next meet be better." He extends his hand for a parting handshake. Before releasing the hold a thought seemed to occur to Torgthen, "In my haste I seem to have forgotten the other part of your errand. Was Glankbir able to get us a fair price?"

[Brainpiercing]

[spoiler]Duh... I completely forgot, and I really haven't quite remembered, yet. Was that selling your excess equipment? For simplicty's sake you can sell at 65% + a possible bargain in your home town. [/spoiler]

Holdamir slapped his forehead.
'Shame on my forgetfulness. Of course. A fair price indeed... not that I am judge of such things...'
He reached into a pouch he was carrying on his belt...

[Sohala]

[spoiler]Yeah, it was selling some excess gear, then returning with a few minor items and raw crafting goods.

The stuff sold does not include anything from here. Though I am not sure who is actually carrying all of that.[/spoiler]

...and pulled out the simple bags he had been given before leaving. They didn't look as full as before, but the weight seemed to have increased.

Torgthen took the bags and then set them down, opening them to take a peek within each. The sun glittered off a wide variety of objects. "Yes, this should do nicely, you have my thanks again." He said to the hound.

[Brainpiercing]

Holdamir bowed.

'It is we who have to thank you. I would then take my leave, and my compatriot, too. Fare well, honoured Torgthen. Fare well, also, friends. May we meet again.'

He bowed again, and Handromal bowed, too, and then the two hounds grouped together and vanished.

[spoiler]
If you have something more to add, you can interrupt this in a suitable manner.

Waiting for Daelric's replies before we make the scene transition. [/spoiler]

[Sohala]

"Drannoth, catch."

[spoiler]They are a pair of sundark goggles.[/spoiler]

Seeing everyone finishing their packing, Torgthen makes his way over to the halfling, "I noticed you were a little light on protection, so here." He said as he handed over a tiny shield, along with a pair of bells attached to some leather straps and a small silver band on top of it.

[spoiler]Your requested shield, ring, and anklet.[/spoiler]

[Thistledown Thurbertaut]

The Mighty M.A.R.C. mosies over to the diminutive dwarf.

"Well met Sir Sohala TORGTHEN.  I will endeavor my utmost to sunder the siege against your people."

It paused.

"Though in these strange new times, I no longer know the way..."

[Sohala]

"It is a ways north; hopefully your...longer strides will be able to get you there faster." Digging around in his bag again, Torgthen produced one of his maps. Surveying the landscape he oriented it to the proper direction. "Do you think you will be able to remember the way, or would you prefer a rough map?"

[spoiler]With my survial ranks I tell which way is north.

By the way, what does the weather look like for the next three days? (by taking 20, unless you would prefer 10, which is only one day)[/spoiler]

[Thistledown Thurbertaut]

"I will remember." the construct replied.  "and," it paused considering "a map would be helpful as my memories of this land are long past useful." 

Once Torgthen had composed a rough cartography, the M.A.R.C. V opened a slot in it's body and placed the parchment safely within.

"Safe journeys. May the Makers protect you."

Once everyone had said their goodbyes, the lumbering behemoth turned and stomped away.  When it was a safe distance from the others it fired up it's rockets, retracted it's limbs and flew away, high up into the sky where the landscape would more closely match the outlines on Torthen's map.

[spoiler]Exit MARC stage left!  I look forward to picking up the pace with my new and more suitable beatstick character, Felgryn Grimgold. I think it might be best to have him travelling with the new petal-fey we have joining us so BP if you could facilitate.  If anyone has any parting words to MARC feel free to post them in where appropriate. [/spoiler]

[Snizor]

"We'll stick with them for now", Daelric muttered quietly in response to Cat's earlier telepathic inquiries.

OOC:
[spoiler]
Cure Moderates: 17 and 20, bringing him to 45 HP out of 61.

Yes, I'm switching to color-coded dialog, since everyone else seems to be doing it.
[/spoiler]

[Brainpiercing]

[spoiler]
Since I'm usually too lazy to color-code... it's up to you.

I think I said that Devanar gives you some LVs after that to bring you back up to full.[/spoiler]

[Brainpiercing]

[spoiler]
Alright, what we need to do now is decide whether you will move on, or continue regenerating until aforementioned "bad things" happens. That would be roughly a 5-6 hour transition, I have to read up on the exact time again, which means you are either wandering - somewhere - or still at the oasis.

Otherwise this scene is now formally concluded.[/spoiler]

[Brainpiercing]

After a bit more rest Devanar cautioned that he would press on for now, since their situation was hardly safe at the oasis. There was no clear trail to follow, but the Demon camp was supposed to be somewhere northward.

The party marched carefully between the dunes, taking precautions and lookout before crossing ridges. Cat ran ahead, his small form was hardly likely to attract too much attention.

After a few hours of marching under the hot sun, Drannoth, who had been becoming more sullen by the hour, and who's features had become more and more vexed by something, announced he needed a break. They stopped under a rock that offered at least a bit of shade, and Drannoth took a drink from his canteen.

And then as he stood there he suddenly exploded into a writhing mass of tentacles. The form toppled over, a drawn-out scream could be heard from its midst.