by Bill Ricardi
The young man smiled brightly as he said, “Oh I have them ready right now. You did say that I should diversify my list for this journey, and I sometimes use them anyway to counteract my own Enlarge spells when needed.”
Toby looked around for help. He saw Ames and myself grinning toothily. Tara’s jaw was working, but she was out of excuses.
With a big sigh and a neutral expression, Toby said, “Five camels it is.”
Secretly, I was excited. I had ridden horses and giant wolves, but never camels. They were such unusual looking beasts. I was looking forward to getting to know their habits.
Leeson also suggested, “As comfortable and native as our current mode of dress might be, I’d also suggest we pick up the proper desert wrappings. Half naked is fine for the city where you can go inside whenever you like, but we don’t know what kind of exposure we’ll have out there in the desert.”
I nodded and said, “A reasonable precaution. I’ve taken the liberty of learning Rick’s ‘Zone of Comfort’ spell, so the five of us should be fairly well protected during the worst parts of the day.”
Toby looked surprised. He asked, “You did that for Tara and me?”
I didn’t reply, I simply waved it off with a hand gesture. Like it was nothing. Still, it earned me a kiss on the forehead from Tara.
Plans made, we set off again. The mid afternoon market wasn’t too busy. Leeson gave us all the standard suite of warnings: Beware the pickpockets, haggle or you’re going to get cheated, and the like. As it turned out, ‘cheated’ meant paying a couple of extra silver for something. Years back I would have objected, but these days our time was worth far more than a couple of coins here and there. Our lack of bargaining protocol sorely disappointed Leeson. But we had our deep brown body wrappings in all of the appropriate sizes, we picked up some desert-specific supplies, and the camels were ours for a week. The mount vendor was associated with the Adventurer’s Guild. That meant we wouldn’t have to leave a ridiculous deposit on the animals; if anything happened to them, the Guild would be charged directly. Toby signed all of the appropriate documents, and we were on our way by the time the bottom of the sun touched the horizon.
The party gathered by the Northeast ‘gate’, which was just an opening in the wall that bordered the open marketplace. Perhaps ‘wall’ was somewhat of an exaggeration as well; it was a pile of stones that could be easily hopped over. Either way, Leeson was facing down two stoic looking minotaurs.
“Are you ready?”
Tara set her jaw. There was an irritated tail-flick.
Leeson tried to sound cheery, “I rather enjoy it, you get to see the world from a different perspective!”
The flat answer from our cleric was, “Get on with it.”
After the incantation, Tara’s stubby horns were at the same height as my shoulder. She wasn’t crying, but the small minotaur still looked miserable. Ames squeezed the bovine’s shoulder, then offered to help her onto the back of her camel.
Leeson opened his mouth to offer Toby some encouraging words, but quickly snapped it shut when the big minotaur gave him a warning glare. Without fuss, the paladin was Reduced to a size smaller than Leeson, horns included. He mounted his own camel without a word. Then we were on our way, five fools heading into the rapidly cooling dusk air.
Oh. Remember when I mentioned wanting to get to know camels? I take it all back.
Camels are the most miserable creatures on all of Panos. They’re ornery. They spit and drool. Their breath smells like festering lizard crap. They don’t appreciate anything nice that you do for them, and they don’t respect boundaries. Four hours of riding these hells-forsaken beasts, and I was ready to suggest that we turn around and trade them in for horses.
One of the nice things that we did for them, and for ourselves, was facilitate the divine production of water. Tara would be able to fill our waterskins a couple of times a day, which meant that one of the main killers of the desert would be kept at bay. But these damnable beasts would stick their noses in their special feed and water sacks, and the water would be gone in an instant. Then they would look at you, as if thinking, ‘That’s all, humanoid?’ I was starting to wonder what camel meat would taste like.
The landscape wasn’t as flat as one would imagine, but it was fairly featureless. We didn’t use Light spells, relying mostly on Ames’ night vision. Normally Leeson would have been the only one with short range vision issues. But in this place, all of the little tricks that the minotaurs and I would have used to improve our orientation were missing. The crescent moon wasn’t throwing much light to start with. But more importantly, there was precious little to give any of us scope. An occasional boulder or cactus simply wasn’t enough of a reference in this sea of sand. I couldn’t tell if something was a massive boulder fifty paces away or a little rock ten paces away. Luckily, Ames’ feline senses coped much better in this environment.
We reached the stone triangle an hour before dawn. A quick patrol of the area helped us to measure the distance between boulders; around forty paces between each rock. And as promised, there was a squat, hollowed out boulder directly in the center.
Ames asked, “Where do you want to set up camp Toby? One of the boulders will provide a little shade, and the tarp will be ample cover for the camels.”
The formerly-large minotaur pointed at the stubbier rock in the center. “There.”
The feline squinted. “Next to the small rock?”
“No, on the rock.”
We were all quiet for a moment. Leeson was the one who ventured, “That’s going to piss them off Toby.”
The paladin sounded almost innocent. “Oh, will it?”
And that was that. We set up camp directly on top of the drop point. Toby called it ‘effective negotiating tactics’. Tara muttered something about managing to burn bridges in the middle of a desert. Nevertheless, by the time the sun crested upon the horizon, we had the tarp set up and bedrolls arranged. The rock, though not very tall, did present us with a solid surface. We set up our three light tents in a circle around it, utilizing multiple anchors and spikes to provide equal tension on every facing. Tara and Toby would have to use the cover of the tarp, benefitting from the additional shade that the rock and our tents would provide.
Luckily, the harshest third of day was not going to be an issue. After breakfast, I started the hour long ritual that would allow me to invoke the spell that I learned from Rick. The Zone of Comfort was just as effective in the middle of this arid wasteland as it had been in the frozen heights near Thunderscale Mountain. Even with my orcish endurance, the effort of pacing and chanting in the morning sun was taxing. But the sudden rush of cool air over my sweating body made it all worthwhile. I heard a collective murmur of relief go up when the Zone of Comfort encompassed the tents and the area just outside.
Despite my protests, everyone was telling me that my efforts more than counted as my turn on watch. After a final prod from Ames, I gave in. My reward for a job well done was eight hours of blissful sleep.
I awoke to conversation, laughter, and other general loudness. The heat was back, but it was bearable in the late afternoon. I poked my head out of my thin walled tent to see what in the hells was happening.
Everyone was gathered under the tarp. The minotaurs were tall again. They, or more likely my mate, pilfered my magical cooking pot and started making dinner. It didn’t look like anyone was drunk. Briefly I wondered if Ames had shared some of their more potent ‘stress relieving’ chemicals.
I called over, “What in the hells are you doing?”
Ames snickered at my question. My mate replied, “We’re going to have a party tonight!” The answer seemed intentionally loud.
Toby added, “Maybe tomorrow night too. This is such a nice spot. We have supplies for a week after all, and this is a beautiful campsite!” Again, my friends were speaking at quite a high volume.
Then it all fell into place in my mind. They were going to camp on the witches’ sacred spot
in the most annoying way possible.
I played along, “Great, I’m going to do my morning enhancements, then I’ll join you for dinner. Afterwards, I’ll prepare my spells. You can set up targets near those big rocks and I’ll see if I can hit them with Lightning Bolts.”
As I withdrew back into my tent, I heard Leeson say, “Great idea Sorch. I’ll prepare a couple of Fireworks spells for tonight!”
Max’s Expanded Intelligence provided me with the mental enhancement that I needed for the day. It also flooded my body with an all-encompassing euphoria. I forced myself to take deep breaths as I writhed slowly within my bedroll. I could feel every grain of sand shifting beneath the fabric. Lectures on theoretical magical structures danced through my head. It was exhausting and exhilarating at the same time. Fifteen minutes later, I emerged on the other side of the spell’s after-effects. And I was voraciously hungry.
After a dinner of turnips and noodles in a chicken stock broth, something that we celebrated far more boisteriously than the taste called for, we started to prepare for tonight’s ‘party’. Along with my other spells I did memorize Lightning Bolt, though I hoped that I wouldn’t have to waste it on a distant target in a display of careless bravado.
The sun was setting when I reemerged from my tent. The others were clearing a space for the planned ‘celebration’.
Leeson said, “We should clear out this garbage. And bury this camel dung. Should we dig a latrine?”
Toby replied, “Why bother digging? We have this perfectly good hollow rock right here.”
“Stop.”
It was a voice that none of us heard before. Our attention was drawn to the southernmost boulder. A weary looking woman in red robes was peering around the edge of the rock.
“Your acting is awful, but I believe you might be just annoying enough to actually go through with it. What do you want?”
Toby wore a smile, perhaps one that was slightly too smug for a paladin. He said, “Greetings, m’lady. We are representatives of the Adventurer’s Guild, on a quest to peacefully parley with the chaos witches of the Glasson Desert. Might you be a representative of that group?”
She spat into the sand. “I might, but not a member that has either the authority or the desire to speak with the likes of you. You speak for the men of glass or whatever they call themselves, yes?”
The minotaur nodded. He rumbled, “We wish to bring an end to this conflict, however it may have started. Is there someone that we can speak to about these things?”
The red robed woman considered. “Yes. As long as it isn’t me. Pack your things quickly. I will take you to the Mother of Magma.”
Ames murmured to me, “That’s a nice title. Why don’t we have nice titles?”
I murmured back, “I think it’s because we annoy a lot of people on the average day.”
We were exceedingly respectful of the area, despite our earlier loudmouthed threats. Everything was cleaned up quickly and efficiently. We earned a little nod of approval from the red robed woman, who told us to mount up and stay close. Tara and Toby were Reduced, and then we climbed aboard the greatest mistake the gods had ever made.
We rode into the cool night, allowing the sun to set and the moon to crest. When the witch invoked a Light spell, Leeson and I quickly followed suit. Being able to see where we were going was a novel change. It seemed that we were headed Southeast now. But frankly, the only change that I saw was a slight uptick in the number of cacti.
Then the texture of the ground changed somewhat. It became more firm under our camels’ hooves. A rock face rose in the distance. It wasn’t tall enough to be called a cliff, but it did provide a break in the otherwise monotonous terrain. As we approached, the air carried the scent of life, of moss and plants.
We followed the contours of the rock rather than finding a way to get over it. This continued until all six camels were hugging the reddish-brown stone wall. Only when we were nearly on top of a sudden gap in the short and rocky hills did we see the archway. Whether naturally or via arcane and druidic influence, a cavern had been formed that pushed all the way through the cliff face. It was illuminated by a mix of torches and Light spells. The sheltered area was perhaps eighty paces wide and similarly deep before opening back up to the night sky.
An oasis. Sheltered from the harshest of the Glasson Desert’s sun and wind, water bubbled up from the ground and pooled. Fronds and grass and palm trees held the soil together. Moss grew up one side of the massive domed shelter, and ivy dominated the opposite wall. The unusually fertile area wasn’t being wasted. Potatoes and lettuce grew in the more shaded patches of dirt, as well as an assortment of herbs.
Dotted around the area were yurts of all kinds. Each of the animal skin covered tents had its own character. Someone, presumably the owners, painted each yurt in a unique way. Some of the patterns were simple. Others were rendered in painstaking, breathtaking detail. All of them seemed arcane in nature. The wards and subtle glamours of protection often flowed directly into more artistic, mundane patterns. I knew quite a few of the symbols from my classes that involved summoning and defensive spells. Others were a complete mystery.
Our guide led us over to an area that was home to a couple dozen camels. Briefly I wondered if this was a portal to the netherworld. But our beasts were just as glad to be rid of us as we were to be rid of them. Once untacked, they quickly walked into the pen to join the other evil creatures.
We shouldered our packs before being led to a tall yurt that looked much the same as the others. Our red robed guide opened the front flap and called inside. “Mother. We have guests, are you decent?”
The voice that came back was high and gentle, “Yes. Are they?”
We were looked up and down. Then the woman sighed and admitted, “They seem to be the decent sort.”
“Then they may enter. Have them remove their footwear and leave their sandy things in the foyer.”
I was glad that we had been prompted. I wouldn’t have thought about the amount of desert that we were carrying around with us. Boots, wrappings, and packs were abandoned in the tent’s first partition. Soon we were back in our ‘native’ garb; that is to say, we were wearing next to nothing. The night air was actually a little bit cool now, so I was glad when Toby pushed open the next curtain and led us through to the warmer inner chamber.
If it weren’t for our host’s attire, I wouldn’t have guessed that this place was in the middle of the Northeastern deserts. A simple Light spell at the center of the room provided unwavering, rose-tinted illumination to the entire space. The firm red berber carpet stretched wall to wall. Those walls were dominated by simple pine book shelves, filled with tomes both mundane and arcane. In the center of the room was a ring of low leather couches, presumably filled with fine sand by the way they seemed to melt and hold every indentation.
Lounging on one of those couches was a woman garbed in black silk. She was reading a thin book of some kind, in a language that I didn’t know. Her auburn hair was cropped short, but to me that simply enhanced her beauty. Her elegant confidence.
Our hostess glanced up from her reading and said, “Sit please. I’m nearly at a good stopping point.”
We arranged ourselves in a semicircle opposite the woman as she finished her paragraph. The slim book was closed and set aside. She said, “I am Louise, the Mother of Magma. And I would speak with… you.”
The delicate finger pointed unwaveringly at Leeson. All eyes turned to the young human.
“M-me? Why me?”
The Mother of Magma smiled. “Two reasons. Firstly, I can see that you know the book that I’m reading.”
Leeson murmured, “The Tales of Lady Adventurer Camber.”
Our hostess chuckled faintly. She affirmed, “The same. Secondly, I can tell that your mouth does not easily form lies.”
The young human pointed at Toby as he protested, “He’s a paladin of Aro-Remset!”
The Mother of Magma said, “That simply means his lies are true.
”
This statement seemed to defeat Leeson, who had no idea how to respond.
After peering at the young human for a few moments, the woman asked, “Why are you here?”
Leeson cleared his throat and then said, “We want to stop the violence. We just came from the Company of Glass. The commander guy said that he’s not sure how this all started, but he knows he’s not responsible for the elementals. He wants a truce.”
Louise looked sharply at Toby. “He’s telling the truth.” It wasn’t a question.
The temporarily small minotaur said, “He is.”
Turning back to Leeson, the Mother of Magma asked, “Was it possible he was lying? This ‘commander-guy’ you speak of?”
Leeson shook his head, “I mean, I really doubt it. Anything is possible, but he seemed like a guy in over his head. He wasn’t choosing his words carefully. And Toby was there and… well. I believed him.”
This seemed to puzzle Louise. “All indications were that the fire elementals went out of control wherever one of their caravans passed. We’re not seeing this phenomenon anywhere else. How do you explain this?”
“I don’t. I mean, umm, forgive me your ladyship. But we were hoping you had some answers.”
The Mother of Magma rolled her eyes, perhaps at the ‘ladyship’ moniker. She said, “I have a son who is your age, you speak a lot like he does.”
Leeson blinked. He said, “You’re too young, there’s no way you have a son my age.”
Our hostess’ rich laughter filled the yurt’s living room.
She turned to me and said, “Your younger brother is more flattering than any paladin.”
I didn’t ask how she made that connection, nor did I correct her. It was true in every way that mattered. “He’s a good kid.”
Louise regarded each of us in turn. Then she said, “You may all speak now. One at a time, of course.”
We presented the case that the Company of Glass was putting forward. The Mother of Magma listened, but didn’t comment. Ames and Tara also spoke about the suspected elemental activity elsewhere in Panos, from what they witnessed over the past few years, to what evidence we had collected in our recent adventures. That held the woman’s interest.