Once more into the breach...

[DM Bob]

As for handing his weapon over, the child responds.

"I only just earned my point, this sticker. My mother would have my scales if I handed it to an Outlander. You may look."

He holds it close and looks like he'll jerk it away if you reach. The craftsmanship is beyond anything you've seen on Athas proper. The temper and folding quite beautiful to gaze upon.

[Attilius]

He leans down and squints his eyes at the blade and haft "Amazing... If we stay longer i's gonna half to meet your forge masta. Wots iz name? Truely impressive work!
-------
Whoa! What were those sky explosions?"

[AthasianLaborer]

'Muiko will sketch Hryn and his 'sticker' as marginalia along the border of the map as he walks as closely to Quila as he can without breaking Invisibility.


Artistic Ability rolled a 2 needing a 13 or less [Success!]


As the pulse arrives, 'Muiko quickly whispers [Elven: "Yvera, count the seconds until the next pulse!"]

In response to Quila [Elven: "We'll know the timing soon enough.  As for our escape, it might be prudent to find a place to pitch the tent and take a Nap, then scry the area prior to our return though once we've dumped the trash.  We can't prepare a proper response if we have no clue of what we face"]

[DM Bob]

Continuing the light conversation with the child-snake with Attilius:

"Forge? What is that? It is hard to cool the tip and to set it... if that is what you are asking." He then pauses as if remembering something taught and not experienced. "Wait. The efreet use forges; they sometimes take slaves of your world to work them. I bet you'd be worth something to the City if you like that type of work. We simply form the liquid metal after mixing with the blood of our elders. Then we hone upon rougher set metal until sharp."

***

There are no immediate pulses like that you recently experienced. After what you *think* is about a half an hour of speed walking, you still do not see or feel another pulse. Keep in mind there is a limit to how long your friend remains summoned. Can I get a spell duration check?

The young salamander seems tired as well.

You begin to hear a crackle and cadence to the inferno, almost like a song or chant coming from your left somewhere in the distance.

[Niachi]

[OOC: Conjure duration is 9 turns.

Just lost a long post. on mobile. I have more questions for our evil guide. Truthear anyone?]

[Quila Oris (John M.)]

”If we need to know for sure about the timing of the pulses I could try talking some more to the spirit of Snarf in the fang.”

[AthasianLaborer]

[Elven: "Yes, please do! I tire of counting!"] blurts out Yvera in response to Quila.

[Elven: "You keep counting! How can we confirm if the Fang lies?"] 'Muiko interjects

[Elven: "nineteen hundred seventy nine, nineteen hundred eighty, nineteen hundred eighty one..."] Yvera trails off.

[Niachi]

At mention of slavery, Niachi Bad Cop returns:

"That's the END of slave talk, Hryn! I expected you to keep up given your serpentine form. If we must slow to your inferior ways, then so be it! When you march upon your enemies you will learn to quicken your pace. That steel is good enough, yeh for a raw recruit who's never guzzled the heartblood of 50 foes. My people perfected metalbloodworking ages ago. Likely the fire pashas plucked one of us to steal our secrets. Now, more questions! And we know truths from falses!"

(a glance to Coden as he counts on his fingers)

"One: What comes with that approaching rhythmic sound?
Two: These pulses! Not our way. If you stab a ..troll.. with your spear and count that time as '1' then how many stabs until we reach the place we seek?
Three: Your egg fields! Outlanders not welcome there, I'll wager. Guarded. Do you have any rank to speak for us to ANYTHING we meet, or does your inexperience hinder us?
Four: We may lose you before we arrive. We know the way. We may need to shelter and rest. Might you know a safe-ish spot to camp?
Five: Have your people always lived in fealty to the Efreeti lords?"

And my bloodthirsty companions will have questions. Please enlighten us if asked."

Niachi's eyes with their rays of heat flicker from red to gold as he sweeps their environs.

[DM Bob]

"One: What comes with that approaching rhythmic sound?"

"That might be some of the flame kin. They don't take too kindly to the efreeti and ignore us for the most part. I think they'd avoid your cold... unless they get angered by it."

"Two: These pulses! Not our way. If you stab a ..troll.. with your spear and count that time as '1' then how many stabs until we reach the place we seek?"

"Um. More than I can stab? Hmm. Two pulses to wake; one to rest is how we normally plan our burn."

Three: Your egg fields! Outlanders not welcome there, I'll wager. Guarded. Do you have any rank to speak for us to ANYTHING we meet, or does your inexperience hinder us?

"They're close to home, but hotter than where we usually live. Eggs hatch faster in high heat, me Pa always says. You can tell our home by the raised ground. By cooling it over time, you can mold the contour of the floor eventually."

Four: We may lose you before we arrive. We know the way. We may need to shelter and rest. Might you know a safe-ish spot to camp?

"The ground is firm here... anywhere with firm ground is good. Not like under the City. That you need to tread through and it isn't good to rest there, it's like being out in the open. There are pockets of less firm, er, firmament between here and there."

Five: Have your people always lived in fealty to the Efreeti lords?"

He sneers at this. "Fealty? We will fight a common foe if needed, but they like to entrap our own, as well as you Offlanders, if the stories are true. You need to be on your guard with the efreeti and only trade when your numbers are greater by twice." You feel this is recited, like something a family member drilled into his head.

[Niachi]

"Thank you. Your disposition is not what I expected. But I watch. When I was your apparent age, I earned my rank the hard way as warrior, diplomat, and scholar. Do you have any status, or just an innocent yearling? Not entrenched in traditions....open to breaching the incomprehensible distances between our worlds...

A thought to chew on: Treaties are crafted in idle talk. But wars also. I speak with years of experience negotiating and translating for higher powers here. After I send you home, you might return a diplomat: 'Hyrn, The Voice of the Eternal Hearth'

Speaking bluntly, what terrible and extravagant cost would a Salamander demand for a weapon of your rank? SLAVERY and related transactions EXCLUDED."

[Attilius]

Aug 7, 2024 15:39:16 GMT -12 DM Bob said:

"That might be some of the flame kin. They don't take too kindly to the efreeti and ignore us for the most part. I think they'd avoid your cold... unless they get angered by it."

Attilius frowns at this and immediately looks towards the sound to see if he can get a better vantage.

[AthasianLaborer]

[Elven: "Ask the child if they know the name 'Liandrin', perhaps we share a common enemy?"]

"Do you see our next obstacle to negotiate Murmillo?"

[Skrye [AC3; 48/48HP]]

- As everyone is asking interesting questions, she does not and listens - 'Very bright lights here I must admit yet not as much as the shine of gold, diamonds, emeralds, silver, olivine and amethysts and the rest of iridiscent tones within the Earth lands' - thinks as she moves alongside the party

[OOC: Locate Object spell (6hrs), Protection vs Fire.

AC 3, 48/48HP; SPELLS 1stLvl(4/5), 2ndLvl(5/5), 3rdLvl(2/4), 4thLvl(3/3)]

[DM Bob]

The ground if you can indeed truly call it ground by normal definitions, tends to remain flat, although dips and waves are not uncommon, reminiscent of sand dunes back home. At least in this section of the hearth.

Attilius thinks he can see a few bobbing dark eyes within the fires to the party's left flank. They jaunt up and down at about seven to nine feet high and at least 30' from the outside of your protective magics. Staring hard into the fires, you think you can make out different color flames that are suggestive of mouths and even arm-like appendages. You really have a hard time coming up with a number. At least six, but you can't be sure you're counting correctly and that's only if they walk, er, burn in a single rank or file.

The name Liandrin means nothing to the small salamander child.

"My pa might know, he has been to the City to trade in his youth."

[Attilius]

The giant tells the group what he spies as he inspects/secures his armor straps and shield