Freedom, or something like it: Intro<< Back to Game Logs The heat of the Athasian desert was, as usual, oppressive. The caravan had wound its way for miles across the harsh sands, occasionally passing rocky outcroppings, depressions filed with silt that could swallow a man whole, and various other dangers. Traveling with the caravan was a motley crew of beings - humans, elves, mul, and even more bizarre creatures. The caravan master grew noticeably less agitated as the miles fell away, and they approached their goal- the City-State of Tyr. He'd had to supplement his trade with travelers, and it always seemed that outsiders brought trouble. He had the recent addition of the Half-Giant guard to supplement his security detachment, but he still felt uneasy at some of his travelers. The half-elf had a dark look about him, and smelled of trouble. That he could have put off to a in-built paranoia; though he would never ignore that instinct as it had saved him more than once, he had also learned that too much of it was bad for business. But even more was the dwarf with his strange looking bodyguard. He had the revolutionary look to him... and that female that he carried in tow was the most strange thing he'd ever seen. But soon, they'd be in Tyr, and none of his trouble... The cry of "Bandits!" let him know that he'd counted his bits before he'd had a chance to cash them in, as he noticed the cloud of dust bearing down on the train from over a far dune. "Get your lazy asses in gear!" he cried, riding along the caravan on his kank to signal to the drivers to pick up the speed. If they could only get within sight of the walls- he'd paid his fee already for access to Tyr, so the guards would *probably* help them... But he saw that they'd not get that solace- he could now make out shapes in the cloud, letting him know that their pursuers were much faster than them. "Circle the wagons! Prepare to meet the raiders!" he cried out, looking for the leader of his security detachment. He never found him, for soon the raiders were amongst them, and the chaos of battle overtook the caravan. Blood and bone were exposed to the sun as the kes'trekel circled above, anticipating the feast that would follow. But against all hope, a detachment of guards came over the dune. A bit too late to save the caravan, but early enough to provide succor from the raiders. Obsidian weapons gleamed in the sun as they raced in a charge through the battle, those deadly black weapons arcing up and down again and again, trailing blood through the air. It soon became obvious that this was a third side entering the battle, rather than coming to aid. They ruthlessly separated the strong from the weak like a farmer culling the useless crops. Behind them came caging carts, drawn by kanks to gather that most precious of resources after water and steel- strong slaves. The dwarf with the elemental bodyguard put up a spirited fight, but was doomed from the first... at the very end, he raised his hand to cast a spell, turning the bare foliage around him to ash even as an obsidian blade rendered that feeble effort useless... The healthy were loaded onto the wagons, and taken over the dunes to the nearby city-state of Tyr. Continued in Freedom: Session 1 >>
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