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Post by Vikram on Oct 12, 2022 20:26:35 GMT -5
Vikram wiped the sweat off his brow, The oppressive heat blazing from up high. It was as if Solaria himself were staring down at him, scrutinizing his motivations as he trudged through the sand. Three days of travel from the coastline had led him towards one of the many lost settlements of the dunes, Bura. It was a shanty town at the best of times, hovel to the Zeinavs miscreants, looters, charlatans, and graverobbers who couldn't find succor in the actual towns. Most were drawn here by the allure of ancient treasure in the ruins, Vikram on the other hand, drawn by a rumour. It was in the Sultans Port he met a sailor who spoke of the scrolls a Traveller he conveyed bore, scrolls that spoke of an artifact hidden from time. One made by Solaria himself.... The reminder of the heat was the only thing needed to distract him from ruminating further. He cursed the sun god for his diligence, having made each step of the journey through the Sea more tortuous than the last. He wiped his brow once more only to find Bura waiting before as his eye readjusted to the light. Lively as ever, the bustle of the crowd throughout the tents took some getting used to. The various denizens of Bura either stopped and stared at the garishly dressed man or they coyly averted their eyes and moved further away to the periphery of the crowds. A child bumped into from behind, apologizing as he scurried off. Vikram's brazen adornments bristled with noise and clatter as he swirled to see only to find the child already gone. However, there was one certain clatter missing. A small amulet kept on his lower right back, its silvery cling gone from his cacophony, and from his chains. It had represented a promise made to a small girl in his hometown. And now it was gone.
Another task for another time. His primary reason for being here was to find another thread to the location of the artifact. The sailor informed him, for quite a price, that the traveler had been heading to Bura for an archaeological dig. If this artifact was truly what Vikram believed it to be then under no circumstances would he allow it to fall into the hands of the populace of this shanty. He would meet them, if only to ensure it himself that it is not used for malicious purposes.
The aged weary man sighed, and sauntered further into the town.
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Post by saintronan on Oct 13, 2022 3:40:17 GMT -5
Absentmindedly he itched at the progressively growing discomfort about his collar. The gambeson, while useful in many of the quests he was put out on, served naught but to deliver punishment in the sweltering heat of this bandytown. Bura would be called backwater by any civilized standard if water were to be expected anywhere near its unwashed masses. Poverty, malnutrition, and heat sickness were the most available of experiences. None of which the soldier at hand was in the market for. This place had chosen its lot. Plenty of lush corners of the world to settle in. The only tangible reasons seemed to relate to rumors. Whom started them and why was his purpose. Retrieve if at all possible. Elucidate at the very least.
Ferrow had been sent to the site weeks ago to follow leads as well but with no word back a scout would be needed. A withery man very fitting for such environments. Perhaps less so for the company about the tents propped up one beside the other, nary a space between if not given reason to afford it. Beasts of burden he'd never seen before, goats, as well a horse here and there. Most were penned into a single space on the southernmost edge to the collection of makeshift structures. Of which most around the pen were a vibrant orange obviously relating themselves to one another. Intricate weavework of blacks, yellows, and blues denoted something he was sure but what exactly would require inquiry. Something he'd yet feel comfortable doing.
Children ran between people playing at being well meaning. Bright smiles beneath headwraps and clean faces to better sell their youthful vigor as innocence rather than the distraction that it was. One outheld hand for charity while the other took what it could beyond notice. A huff escapes him as his own headwrap is drawn ever tighter. The sun would scorch his fair complexion otherwise. It's persistent glare was projected onto the exposed metals and gems of tradesman and traveler alike which reflected into his eyes, blinding him a moment. It drew his attention to the uncharacteristic affluence of the parties about. Tradesmen, soldiers,mages and mercenaries. Whatever this relic was it gathered attention like shit did flies.
Taking a swig from his half empty waterskin spurred him deeper. There seemed a central large tent, royal and blue, spotted with gleaming silver stars and at its peak the woven symbol of Solaria creating the illusion of a crown. As if to claim this a holy site already before anything were even found. Zealots at work. Maude followed it like a guiding star.
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Post by Vikram on Oct 13, 2022 4:49:55 GMT -5
The epicenter of Bura was similar to most of these nomadic camps. Several layers of mismatched tents with ramshackle paths made apparent only by the foot traffic. Vikram approached a larger circular tent adorned with silks and baubles, including several allusions to Solaria. The tent was equipped with several blue cloaked guardsmen sitting near the entrances, the eyes behind their headwraps eyeing the crowd constantly. A small group of foreigners stood out among the throng. Wearing tanned expedition hats and surrounded by soldiers ill-suited for the climate standing guard, were a group of scholarly explorers. Their stiff shoulders, dull ochre complexion, and elongated ears made them stand out so much that several delinquent children and some of the more curious adults stood nearby just to see them. Sun Elves, and by the looks of it fairly well off. Vikram noted the uniforms of the soldiers vaguely resembled a Golden Army kit, minus the related insignia. Mercenaries perhaps? After a few minutes of observation it became apparent the group was waiting, for what and whom he wasn't sure. Two things among them he noted were lacking were the scrolls Vikram was attempting to track and an obvious expedition leader. He made mental notes about their number and eagerly approached. " Good day to you all! I am Vikram! You simp-."
A guard shoved him back into a few passerby, knocking all three down. He levelled a heavy crossbow to Vikrams head and stated with vitriol
"Back off old man, don't want what you're sellin'" Vikram could only pick himself off the ground, assisting one of the men to his feet, and only receiving an angry scowl and a muffled expletive from the other as they hurried away. Vikram could only offer a polite apology as he drew himself back into the crowd. The town seemed busier than it should, more travellers, more foreigners, and more scholars littered the streets. For once he could find himself further back into the crowd, blending back into the hustle to continue observation. The guard going back to his normal level of aggression continued harassing some of the other miscreants who took the opportunity to peddle wares and scam the foreigners. Glad to be quickly forgotten Vikram noticed after a minute or two a spindly old human threw open the flaps of the tent near the expedition. Glasses, bald, backpack he was currently stuffing ancient scrolls into. He certainly fit the profile Vikram had built in his head. A few harsh words to the old codgers subordinates and the expedition was off. quickly marching into the dunes.
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Post by saintronan on Oct 13, 2022 6:32:06 GMT -5
The fluidity of moving crowds guide him more west than north and bustling travelers blocked the adjoining paths between. This he was used to. The smells, however, wrinkled his nose as he drew the wrap across the bridge of it. What other options were there in such a place beyond spiced meat and nut dishes. Rations would be his saving grace for however long he could make them last in the dry sweltering daylight. The nights had surprised him most upon entering the greater Zeinav region. This place seemed built to kill a man by some cold uncaring force from the north which visited only beneath the moons blessing. Respite was found only at dawn and dusk. Coming alone may not have been advised but it was the only way he'd ever known or trusted. The footpaths he'd need to clear. The extra mouth to feed. Dried venison and raspberries. The discomfort of being aware of eyes always on him. Over his shoulder. Watching his back. Deep blue sapphires acrosst the campfire.. Too much to lose keeping company close that long.
He followed the snaking path as crowds thinned out beyond the cooking square opening up into something more established. The variety of shades and hues clashing over the tents was one thing, but those draped over the vast majority of peoples within the makeshift court was like that of a field of wildflowers. On any other day and in any other condition the sight may have been appreciated. He carried on. The large blue tent grew quite a bit harder to spot the closer he came to it. Its peak would go unobstructed by anything else here, however.
A commotion seemed to crash before him with a handful of locals tumbling before an armed guard. Looked to be regular fare sans the sukhbir toppled before the marksman. Light blue garb, many hanging medals, and prominent turban certainly cut him from the crowd to a trained eye. Vikram. The grizzled old sword playing his regular games with the unsuspecting watchman. Grumbling and swearing men stood themselves up about his scene as he assisted another to their feet. A clipped chuckle passed from Maude's dry lips before catching himself. More action played beyond with the tent opening and orders being shout. Heads moved, weapons traded hands and bodies made space for important parties to travel unmolested by those with quick hands and quicker words. His contact was here. In Bura. Still. Questions, questions and more questions crossed his mind. Ones that would go unanswered by weary parties with armed escorts. A confrontation for another time.
Encroaching on the focused warrior was simple enough with so many other bodies about his proximity. The man seemed healthy and sharp-eyed. Following his gaze placed focus on the retreating form of gleaming pale skull and the golden goons 'guarding' him. Placing a hand on his acquaintance's shoulder, Maude drew Vikram's attention. Seems traveling alone wasn't in the cards.
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Post by Vikram on Oct 13, 2022 23:00:55 GMT -5
Vikram's hand shot up to grab the intruders, his head turning to catch whatever thief was next attempting to pull one over on him. However, his mood immediately shifted to a grin as he met eyes with a long-time acquaintance. Mad Maude was the last person he expected to see in the middle of this desert, his fair skin almost completely covered in cloth wraps and robes. Vikram would hardly recognize the man were it not for his wintergreen eyes piercing through the veil. His grab shifted to a handshake, which was pulled into a full bear hug against the mans will with a wide grin.
"Maude, my boy, what fortune to find you in this sandpit is it not!"
The hug went on for a few seconds past the reasonable point of comfort before Vikram broke it off.
Maude blinked with little affect. "What's all this?" He said, gesturing towards the scene that had unfolded moments ago
"Scorched Ones posing as foreigners wrapped up in the rumours of the ancients. The bald one apparently has a lead on an artifact, however tenuous. Some of the locals said they've been in and out for weeks in the ruins."
The attempt to disguise themselves as foreign mercenaries was dispelled during his closer inspection. During his brief interaction with the guard Vikram gleaned a few tidbits of knowledge. The way they wrapped their boots slipshod fashion as the locals do was a dead giveaway. not to mention the glimpse of the black line tattoos loosely hidden beneath their veils.
"I assumed that was what drew you here as well. Like, what is it you say? Flies to dung?"
To that Maude only grunted.
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Post by saintronan on Oct 14, 2022 1:19:52 GMT -5
He knew little of whatever may be the Scorched Ones but the quality of arms belied the perception of anything other than official envoys of royal personage. With elves it was always harder to tell whom was a trained blade or just a face to deter harassment. With their numbers, a speedy extraction from these crowds was unlikely. As well more than Maude seemed to be tracking them. He counted a handful of hooded heads who began moving the moment Ferrow spat out his commands. Though they didn't go to follow but headed in the direction that Maude had arrived from instead. Seems all that he would find here is more questions.
Their sheer numbers troubled him greatly. Between the Solaria soldiers, the hooded figures, and Vikram things felt cluttered and likely to break into chaos sooner rather than later. The heat wasn't helping his mood either. He began to tail his contact and the old swordsman followed on.
"Orders," His clipped tone muffled slightly by the headwrap.
Seemingly unheard, his companion carried on.
"Hmm. So it was the rumors then. Their appeal has struck more than I'd hoped, myself. But if such circumstances bring old friends back together than who am I to question them! Hah hah!" The weathered lines of his face drew tight at the eyes. His joy seemed genuine enough though he'd yet to state what brought him here himself. His wit cracked as sharp as ever, "Following a lead are we?"
Maude simply grunted in response. Ferrow looked no worse for wear from the time spent here. No tan, nor burns. His satchel was full and relatively unprotected. He pulled a wide brimmed flop hat from it. Seems he was too proper for the fashions of the Zeinav though not proper enough to deny the locals their authority over his studies and whatever rewards may be garnered from them. A shrewd man. His tight shoulders could be due to the crowds or the guards. Maude huffed.
"Orders."
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Post by Vikram on Oct 14, 2022 4:53:15 GMT -5
Verbose as always, Maude weaved through the crowd tailing the group. At the edge of the small tent colony the mass thinned out significantly. Vikram stopped here and there en route to chat with merchants and picking up some necessities for another trip into the desert. Snacking on a Lamb kebab he caught up with his acquaintance near the tent line. "Worry not lad, while we cant follow too closely in the daylight, we can easily close the distance at night. While we may not know where they go, we know the direction. Only so many places to end up. Here" He pushed a spare kebab towards him, a gleaming smile on his face. Maude took his eyes off the party for the food but for a moment, and the next moment they were gone. Seven more grains of sand in the endless sea. Maude sighed and grabbed the kebab reluctantly. Vikram knew the tracks would fade. They would be spotted almost immediately in the bleach white expanse only to lose their prey to the dunes faster than they would otherwise. The desert was unforgiving. An old man can only go so far on foot if not accustomed. They would find shelter at the closest ruin looted long ago. Maybe the second one, but no man not born to the desert would pass up two opportunities to rest in shade. Patience was Vikram's friend here. Patience it seemed the bald one was running out of. He took another bite of his Kebab, the gleam in his eye shining like the sun. "In the meantime?"
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Post by saintronan on Oct 16, 2022 1:27:17 GMT -5
Despite his discomfort he moved aside the headwrap from his face and ate. He had eaten much worse. And if the old man trusted it then he would have to as well. Procuring food now was for the best. There would be little time for leisure in the near future. Horses would help. If Vikram wasn't rushing to get any then perhaps they were unneeded for the chase ahead of them. What worried the scout most wasn't losing anyone in the dunes but how many hands were being played at this table.
One was Ferrow's. Low and close together for sure. Betting high on the turn while hoping for a payoff at the river. Second was Vikram's supposed Scorched Ones'. Face cards if you've ever seen them. Letting other's set the pace for their own pretty little payoff all the while trusting nobody could beat them. The gall to play dress up as official devotees to better facilitate subservience. Third was the sukhbir leading the way at the moment. No obvious tells, always adaptable, and lucky beyond belief. If being in the right place at the right time were a skill he'd be the best example of its developments finale. Maude's own hand wasn't even worth playing. A single leading thread and a good head on his shoulder's. Bluffing his way through was the option.
Whoever these hooded figures were, they held the crux of the table. Hard to properly judge your competitions hand if you can't even see them for what they truly were. And they all moved separately. If he hadn't spotted them beforehand they would go unnoticed as they joined the hubbub. The closest of them wore loose fitting robes of pink and red with a yellow trim hiding the bulk of their silhouette. Small coin-sized triangles of golden metal hung in drooping horizontal lines down their hood and back. Dainty slippered feet betrayed their attempts at obfuscating their overall size. He had the read of them now. Like a hound, Maude wouldn't lose them. Steps may not remain long in the sands but no one moved without leaving traces.
Slowly, he subtly led Vikram into a new tailing path. Maude's own broad form allotted him a path easily enough through the unwashed masses as his gait and pace were predictable in the busy makeshift roads. A handful of children ran by kicking ahead of them a small leather ball. Familiars and pets alike flew from resting posts and shoulders passing words or seeking attention. Easily seen were families making merry at seeing one another again, some worse for wear than others. Bundles of dried herbs hung from leather chord over stalls of potions or tonics. Incense and tobacco smoke billowed out from tents intermittently. A particularly strong smelling alcohol was being spooned out by the cupful from the largest jug he had ever seen within a stark white canopy tent. Humans and elves for the most part. Scantily clad thick-scaled lizardfolk were a surprise to see. Perhaps the blazing sun treat them better than the marshlands that he'd grown accustomed to seeing them about. Maybe some kind of hybrid. Few slaves were to be seen, thankfully. A larger tent held beauties of the carnal sort, adorned in fine silks and veiled behind gossamer sheets. Maude could hear the tent before he saw it.
The small microcosm of Zeinav was a celebration of half believed whispers and blind faith.
"Three ahead and two behind. Heading South," he nodded slightly in the direction. The two behind were new. Hard to look over without drawing the unwanted attention of the very mark you are meant to be tailing.
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Post by Vikram on Oct 16, 2022 3:21:21 GMT -5
Vikram nodded gayly and took a munch from his kebab. He took a sharp turn into one of the emptier side alleys the tents formed, giving the scout ahead of a slight tap and twist of his head to indicate the change of direction. The pair found themselves on a nearly deserted twenty-foot stretch between tents. Empty except for their current tail. True to Maudes word the two behind them had sealed their escape. The three ahead had apparently circled around and cut off their advancement. Seemingly trapped Vikram let out a hearty chuckle, spitting a little food in the process. "Well now! It would seem were making friends left and right in Bura. A rare occasion indeed. Thats quite the pendant you have there, I suppose you are the true worshippers in these parts? What should we call you sir? The pink and red robed figure raised a hand. Vikram eyed the plain robed figure behind him as they stopped their advance and sheathed their dagger. He was glad things wouldn't get messy, at least right away. Maude's tension visibly relaxed, obviously ready for a fight. " Sukhbir, Sayad, we are of the Golden Path. You may call me Sanjit. You will cease your tailing of the foreigner, what he seeks is rightfully ours." Sanjit lowered her facemask to reveal piercing amber eyes, with a Chevron tattooed across her nose to frame them. Her hand pulled a 3 hand length Kris knife from her other arms robe. She pulled it across her throat in a threatening gesture. "Or we will have to introduce you to the sweltering one himself." She turned her back, strode off into the crowd at the end of the alley. Her cohort followed, the ones behind the pair already disappeared into the shantytown. "Be seeing you! A pleasure to meet that remains all mine!" Vikram finished his kebab in a bite, to follow Maudes lead back into the crowd.
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Post by saintronan on Oct 17, 2022 19:05:17 GMT -5
The goons weren't much so far as he could tell. Lightly armed and healthy enough. Her own weapon gleamed with the telltale signs of enchantment. Perhaps enhancing its sharpness. To match her eyes. Or her tongue. The danger in the air seemed to evaporate as they turned away, back into the ever moving paths of Bura. Tent backs pushed tightly closed behind the groups retreat turning the alley into a dead end. Whatever stayed their hand from doing the deed here would have to stay in the air. No more words would be cut between them until confrontation was in the cards. He huffed, feeling the weight of the journey and task settle once more on his shoulders.
That was that then. Death threats in back alleys at knife point. Maude was used to this reception though he didn't expect Vikram to receive the same. Especially here where his ilk would be known well enough for their altruism. His cheery disposition could just be his regular response to any hostility. Or he had a great amount of trust for this Golden Path. Enough to blindly guide the pair of them into a confined space with a numbers disadvantage and potential aggressors behind.
"Will you heed them?"
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Post by Vikram on Oct 18, 2022 21:45:50 GMT -5
"Bah, Children posturing to look dangerous. People will always do what they feel forced to do. In this case it was to remove interlopers. However my desire to get to the bottom of these rumours outweighs my desire to sit on my ass and sleep. Threats will not deter us, they know this." The pair meandered around the area for a few hours as the sun set. Maude kept looking over his shoulders to a Golden Path member who thought he was being discreet in tailing them. Vikram spent some time poking around the eager merchants stalls. All lined with various knick knacks, chippings of hieroglyphs, shavings of Dessicant corpses of whoms lineages were long forgotten. Vikram kept an eye on the occupants of the blue central tent. The blue robed occupants of it emerged with several members armed with poorly concealed weapons. An old man in faded blue shooed them all out. "Hurry, hurry. They will be there soon. Bring me-" The merchant Vikram was pretending to peruse had ran out of patience and shooed him away before he could hear more. As evening turned to night the pair made their way to the edge of town. Atop a dune they could see several ruins reaching all across the sea sitting half buried like shipwrecks. With the last rays of light across the sand it stretched each shadow longer. Made apparent by their shadows were wind softened paths of footprints. Their shape no longer apparent but the small ridges made obvious in the Evening light. There were three separate groups of trails effected into the sand, each leading heading west to the setting sun. After the first dune it was no longer a trail, the wind of the day decaying even what little remained into the memory of the desert. A green flash announced the final edges of the sun dipping below the horizon. Maude pointed towards a ruin in the middle distance. A shorter yellow/orange flash betrayed the lantern of a campsite attempting to hide itself in the darkness of the desert. "People can be so predictable. I presume our friends from the alley would also be on their way. Let us be off then!" Vikram gave an excited "Huzzah!" and slid down the dune as though it were ice, off into the desert.
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Post by saintronan on Oct 19, 2022 0:29:16 GMT -5
They took up perch by the remains of a shattered stone pillar. Gargantuan in scale, making up the western front to the dune Vikram and Maude now crawled upon. Its edge serving cover to see Ferrow's party from a distance at height. There were more guards now and a singular flat to the ground sleeping tent. Despite some of their laxed demeanor, each man and woman appeared sharp and tense in their rigid movements. Their campfire danced about casting broad shadows against the steep incline behind them. He couldn't see within the sleeping tent from here but he doubted that it held anyone he'd recognize. These people were preparing for conflict it seemed to the trained eye. Looking more like gilded bandits than trained keepers of life. Perhaps that were normal for these parts. None made comment of their state amidst the throngs of Bura.
Suddenly, shades of blue peeled out from their surroundings in the light of camfire and lanterns. The Solaria faithful walked an even pace into the lion's den, none the wiser. So trusting in their faith that willingly they ignored the signs of danger and threat from those perceived as ally. A lithe armored figure poked at the fire without looking to the new arrivals. From his vantage he heard nothing. Neither did the lead of this blue garbed procession. Atop the white sand shelf over the camp crept a band of golden archers, all prepared to loose at given sign. Vikram looked to be seething beneath the surface. Clenched fists and grinding teeth. Naught could be done from here. This wasn't a situation Maude had in mind when giving chase in the night. More heads than he or his partner could confront on their own. They hadn't even reached the relic site yet. What scoundrels.
The guard at the fire looked up for the first time from the fire and the glint of golden teeth gleamed out with a beastly laugh. They motioned to the other guards about surrounding well the blue robed party as if to spell out the circumstances.
"You've no faith but that which serves you!", the elder shouted.
Another raucous cackle belted across the valley between the scene and its audience. The lithe figure held up an open hand, palm facing the cloaks before them. With a sneer they closed their hand into a fist and swiftly the arrows were loosed from above. For a moment that seemed the end of things. With a thunderous crash and bright blinding light the old man supported himself on one knee. His back and chest littered with fletched spines. Maude couldn't see it but he was certain the man was bleeding to death in the sands below. All around the caster, soldiers were struck with this light. The archers and footmen not fast enough screamed and clutched at their smoking eye sockets while those about the camp proper saved themselves with shield and gauntlet from the scorching magics rent upon them.
Stepping up smoothly, the leader of the band thrust sword deep into the gut of the dying man. The blade pierced cleanly through and jutted out from his exposed back. Fire burst uproariously from the wound, consuming the pair in ghostly white flame. As the blaze died down it revealed only the armored figure remaining. They stepped forward and did much the same to the other robed figures that clung vainly to what moments of their life remained. Wounded were retrieved and checked over. Some must have been deemed too crippled to carry on as the leader once more took the blade to them aswell. More gently then. With prayer, kiss of the forehead, and practiced grace.
With their business settled, the Scorched Ones gathered what belongings they deemed necessary and set fire to the tent before heading further into the darkness. Seems this was their only reason to dawdle on their forward journey. Cleaning up whatever opposition they knew of on the quest of the rotten-branched devout.
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Post by Vikram on Oct 19, 2022 1:19:03 GMT -5
"Fools"It was the only word that came to mind when all was said and done. The pair raised from their positions once the danger had passed and the cultists crept back into the night. The scent of foul magicks and burnt flesh wafted from the ambush site as they approached. The blood-soaked sand belayed any enthusiasm he had for the adventure. Without word Vikram began pulling the bodies, or what was left of them, towards the flames. A short prayer to Solaria for safe passage and the very ramshackle pyre was lit. All that was unburnt soon became ash, and they only had their objective before them. Maude only stood silently, a dissatisfied look on his brow. Scattered around the camp were scattered evidences of what took place. Scorch marks, chipped stone, crude smoking glass bowls in the sand where the arrows had struck and melted in place. Vikram despised those that turned the magic of the world on one another. Barbarians taking a work of art and wonder and bashing each other on the head with it. This seemed like the work of a man that would take this relic and only bend it towards more destruction. Resolve renewed, he turned to the desert, in the direction the cultists skulked away towards.
The tracks were more evident now, fresher. Easily followed. Maude led the pursuit, as they both took a decent stride to catch up with their target. After an hour or so they could see it. An actual campsite lay buried near the side of a large tan ruin. Its facade worn away by the ages, revealing a cracked crystalline framework twisting throughout its foundations and structures. Vikram stopped and laid on a nearby Dune overlooking and made two cylinders with his hands and put them to his eyes. Through them he saw several of the disguised cultists standing around the periphery, with the recent ambushers eating and resting near the center of the campsite.
Tightening his hands slightly to adjust the zoom, He could see the Zealot from the ambush grabbing and shouting at the bald scholar. The scholar certainly didn't look like a sympathizer, his fear evident as Vikram swept his gaze around the periphery of the camp.
Several lumps of sand appeared to be moving around to the southern side of the area, where the camp border met a small overhang of the Crystal-webbed ruins.
"Look there, sand cloaks. The Golden Path perhaps? attempting to ambush the ambusher. I can't tell how many, but I don't think they are aware of what they are up against. I won't stand for another slaughter tonight"
Vikram stood, unsheathed his scimitar, and began sliding down the dune towards the campsite.
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Post by saintronan on Oct 19, 2022 2:28:45 GMT -5
The relic site was a thing to behold. In the moonlight its polished faces and glasslike architecture were beauty incarnate. Whatever once wrought this place of wonder did not skimp on its design. There were carvings all about the surface, some form of long forgotten script. He imagined the educated man he was here for would know it by heart at this point. The caricatures of ancient beasts or gods consuming one another. Scaled, quilled, and furred alike. Much too hard to tell from this vantage. The sukhbir's emotional state struck Maude surprised. He was used to the fellow growing prickly at the sight of beasts and monsters but never men. Especially men of faith. The ambush must have hurt him more than he let on.
The scout wouldn't leave his ally to die alone. He also wouldn't brazenly rush into confrontations he was ill equipped for. The camp was relatively small. A handful of tents with beds and chests. The western half was the back of these tents with a marked out path, of columned stakes, safe for stepping. The east end of the camp held a larger tent for planning or entrance into the ruins themselves he presumed for the expansive survey space lie beyond it. To the south all of the camps resources, stored in wooden chests and sacks with a simple canvas covering to defend it from the sands. Finally, on the north was a weathered stone wall, disheveled in places, being watched by a handful of guards intermittently placed about its openings. Whatever other members had been out here working to reveal this place shrouded from histories recalling were not seen. Perhaps they were down below. Hidden from the confrontation burgeoning about the edges of the rest tents. Armored figures believing themselves victors were in late night revelry at the heart. Drinking and eating to their hedonistic fill. A majority of them disarmed and enjoying the warmth of prepared fires and one another's proximity.
Sliding down the sand and arriving beside Vikram, he pantomimed the action of confronting whomever was still on guard silently. From the archers he hoped to retrieve bow and arrow. To gift himself a better opportunity of covering the swordsman's dance of death as the encounter would unfold. So it was. They approached one of the openings breaking the western wall into segments. The old blade on his war path was unlikely to slow once the blood began to flow. Finding a bit of rubble, Maude tossed it to the opposing approach side of the opening to draw the unsuspecting cultists attention.
Perhaps luck was a shared resource for the target of his endeavors cursed under their breath and began to venture forth. Unbeknownst to the advancing pair behind them. As soon as they cleared the boundary of the wall, Maude snaked an arm around their neck and locked it in place with his other hand gripping the subduing elbow. He took a step with his other foot stable behind behind his quarry's backfoot to fall back into the hold and out of the light. The scout squeezed with all of his might. A minute of efforts seemed an eternity with so much adrenaline suddenly pumping through his veins. The suddenness of the guards grappling had caused a choke of saliva to deny whatever cries of alarm could've escaped their throat before its crushing had begun. At its end, there was not but a sigh from dead lips as Maude released them softly to the sand beneath.
Twice over they repeated this task fluidly. The third ended with Vikram felling an unfortunate passing relief soldier on their way to turn the guard for next watch. With bow and arrows retrieved he felt more secure for the coming hell. He looked to the ridge that had held the sand cloaks. Only one remained. Watching whatever it was that was happening in the camp that Maude could not see. Perhaps they had been spotted by the cloaked figure. Or the Scorched Ones within were their next target. He hoped for the latter but prepared for the former.
"Ready."
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Post by Vikram on Oct 19, 2022 3:58:12 GMT -5
An anger subsumed him as he approached. In his eyes the Scorched Ones found themselves on a level playing field with the monsters he hunted for many reasons. Cruelty, bloodthirst, and a bellicose disregard for the gift of life enraged Vikram in a primal sense. Their guise of piety was a false and shallow worship that only mimicked the grace of a civilized society. He strode towards the camp with a single-minded purpose of bringing these injustices to task.
His accompaniment had put Vikram in an ideal position. Rather than a protracted confrontation with the sentries, Maudes methods allowed him to insert himself almost fifteen paces from the campfire. An unfortunate relief had already been dispatched by his hand and now he was ready for the rest to follow. Vikram braced the blunt edge of the scimitar against his left forearm and advanced.
The man sitting by the campfire had no hint as to what happened. Vikram's sword cleaved through the unaware man with a terrifying force. His shoulder brutally lacerated through to the spinal column; The Seeker hesitated not for a moment. With a flash and a spin, his jewelry and trinkets dancing in the firelight, Vikram swung around catching another cultist across the neck mid spin. The wounded man grasped for his throat as the blood began to soak his bleached robes into his glittering armor. Vikram assessed his situation. The others had now time to react, two cultists grabbing their khopesh, another grabbing a spear, and a fourth cocking a crossbow.
The sentries around the camp had heard the commotion and turned to reinforce. Two of them were pulled by their feet face-first into the sand. The hidden Golden Path members revealed themselves and stabbed at their backs with kris, only to assault the rest of the guards. A chaotic brawl ensured, surrounding the camp. He noticed Maude had found himself atop a pillar and had made two expert shots to eliminate a sentry, as well as pin a khopeshi wielder to the sandstone below him. Golden arrows loosed to the rogue atop the pillar, exploding in a flash as he jumped for cover.
Vikram braced for a moment, whirling his scimitar around his back as his body tensed. The swordsman and the spearman charged him at once. He saw their plan of attack, the sword going high left, the spear attempting to come from the low right. His tension released into a fast spin, made harder to see by his trinkets and clothes feeding the illusion of a silk and steel dervish wheeling towards them. A at the crescendo of his spin he brought the hefty blade down diagonally, meeting the chest of the sword wielder and the thigh of the spearman. Another body hit the ground, and the spearman dropped to a knee. A stab from the soldier found little purchase from his unbraced position. Vikram brought his scimitar up and across the other half of the mans body.
The cultist was still upright when Vikram felt it. The force was like someone ran into him with a pole. Looking down he saw the heavy crossbow bolt impaled into his shoulder. His eyes darted up angrily to the culprit, their sly smile replaced with a look of fear as the Sukhbir approached. In the cultists cowardice he ran, off into the night like a dog. Vikram spat in the sand, and then looked to see where the targets were. The large tent connected to the ruins Illuminated with a flash. The fire ignited the tarp, to reveal inside three figures. He saw the Zealot, holding the final ambusher by the neck. It was Sanjit, a failed assassination attempt in the turmoil. The Bald expeditionary raced to collect his scrolls in the chaos, forced to lose some to the intense flames.
An arrow from Maude loosed, its twang piercing the air as his stolen bows golden string vibrated after the shot. The Zealots hand erupted with a white flash. When he could see, he saw Sanjit freed, stabbing a kris knife into the cultists abdomen. The brooding figure's white robe wept with crimson, Vikram could see the sneer on her face as their golden tooth glistened in the inferno. An arrow pierced the zealots hand, but had not damaged it beyond the penetration. Sanjits face however had the sickly waxy white of a terrible burn, she had covered it and ran before Vikram could see the extent of the damage.
Vikram charged at the robed figure in the fire. Met the Zealots eyes as she turned to him, smiled, and collapsed into a pile of sand as the first slash would have connected. Gone. Just like that. Golden specks of sand dissipated from the air as the magic used dispersed. And they were alone, the remaining cultists either fled or slain by the Golden Path.
The silence only broken by Vikrams gasps for air, the Bald one rummaging, and the fire crackling throughout the camp, slowly dying in the night.
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