Original Submissions by Manhattan

• 

  The Case of the "Drove" Beetles
  Added on May 5, 2007

  WARNING: RATED "R" FOR SOME VIOLENCE AND GORE. Come one, come all! Sit back, and revel in the outrageous tale of two militiamen. A patrol out in the desert turns out to be much more than they expected. They soon learn what the consequences are for their exaggerations... Audiences may find a certain comical aspect amongst all of it. Enjoy!

  ---

  *****From the perspective of the splotched, mauve-tousled man******

  You pass beneath the shadow of the black dragon.
  Inside the Main Gate [NESW]
     The main gate of the city-state of Allanak towers high here, its
  twin obsidian towers separating the life-threatening perils of the
  desert from the life-threatening perils of the city.  Outside of the
  gate, a wide road stretches outwards before circling around the city,
  side roads branching in all directions: the boulder wastelands to the
  west, the flat, empty plains to the south, and the endless, infernal
  desert to the infinite north.
     Inside the gate, Caravan Road plunges eastward into the heart of
  the city, passing by the elemental temples and three Quarters before
  reaching its end.  Wall Road leads north and south, creeping along
  the inside of the high city walls.
  A yellow kank stands here, carrying the trim, ebon-haired templar on his back.
  The pudgy, brown-haired half-giant soldier watches over the thick gates.
  A human soldier of Tektolnes stands here, warily guarding the city gate.
  The dark brown elf is standing here.
  The bald, harshly-tanned soldier is standing here.
  The half-giant soldier has arrived from the west.
  The half-giant soldier has arrived from the west.

  The brawny, black-haired man has arrived from the west, riding a grey kank.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar slips her blackened serrated bone warsword behind her backpack, examining a few ragged tears in her flesh.

  Halting her kank and looking back, trying to hide the traces of pain on her face, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "Good work, you two."

  His head kept low in respect, you say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "It was a honor, milady. To ride with you."

  Half-bowing atop his kank, the brawny, black-haired man asks the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "C'n we help ya with anythin' else, Yer Ladyship?"

  Shaking her head, her left arm pressed against a bloody spot on her robe, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "No.  I've a few places to go to now."

  The brawny, black-haired man nods and ushers his kank closer to you.

  Turning back to face ahead, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "Dismissed."

  Pausing before he approaches the stables, you say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "Stay on that kank, recruit. You need the practice."

  The brawny, black-haired man says to you, in sirihish:
       "Yessir. I'll ride 'im back and forth 'cross the city ten times if I gotta."

  You say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "Tell you what, you can practice that riding while we patrol the farming villages."

  A yellow kank walks east, carrying the trim, ebon-haired templar on his back.
  The half-giant soldier walks east.
  The half-giant soldier walks east.

  You ask the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "You up for it, recruit?"

  The brawny, black-haired man says to you, in sirihish:
       "Sure."

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  The two militiamen turn around on their kanks and ride back out into the desert. With Private Harlan at the lead, they begin their regular patrols of Allanak's surrounding villages, Recruit Soriel desperately trying to keep up.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  To the south are Dusty Plains.
  [Very far]
  Nothing.
  [Far]
  A huge black beetle crawls around the desert floor.
  [Near]
  Nothing.

  The brawny, black-haired man draws an obsidian-bladed battle axe.

  You say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "Weapons out."

  You swing your legs to the side and dismount.

  You unsling a massive bone greatsword from your back.

  The brawny, black-haired man swings his legs to the side and dismounts.

  The brawny, black-haired man draws a crescent-bladed obsidian axe.

  Dusty Plains [NESW]
     Endless arid plains and rugged rock outcroppings dominate the landscape
  here. The desolate ground is mottled, with sand in one place, red dirt in
  another, and sharp stones elsewhere; it is as if the winds had discarded
  the refuse of creation here. The sun beats down on the barren ground with
  heavy, dry heat, and a thick layer of dark red dust cakes everything.
  The brawny, black-haired man has arrived from the north.
  A grey kank has arrived from the north.
  A yellow kank has arrived from the north.

  A large black beetle has arrived from the south.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  Just as the skirmish begins, the duo is instantly torn apart by the beetle in a vicious onslaught. Naturally, the militiamen flee head over heels, spurring their kanks into a breakneck gallop. The beetle follows closely behind them as it scampers across the sands.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Dusty Plains [NESW]
     Endless arid plains and rugged rock outcroppings dominate the landscape
  here. The desolate ground is mottled, with sand in one place, red dirt in
  another, and sharp stones elsewhere; it is as if the winds had discarded
  the refuse of creation here. The sun beats down on the barren ground with
  heavy, dry heat, and a thick layer of dark red dust cakes everything.
  A huge black beetle crawls around the desert floor.
  A kank stands here, its yellow shell mottled with dust.
  A grey kank stands here, vigorously waving its pinchers.
  The brawny, black-haired man is standing here.

  A large black beetle bites the brawny, black-haired man on his body, wounding him.

  You sling a massive bone greatsword across your back.

  You jump up onto a yellow kank's back.

  A large black beetle bites the brawny, black-haired man's leg, connecting hard.

  The brawny, black-haired man sheathes an obsidian-bladed battle axe.

  A large black beetle brutally bites the brawny, black-haired man on his wrist.

  You exclaim to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "Mount up and ditch!"

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  Overwhelmed by the bloodthirsty beetle, Soriel pulls back and stumbles across the plains. Just as things couldn't get worse, another beetle, likely the first ones mate, joins the carnage. Harlan tugs on the reins of Soriel's kank and rides towards the road, where Soriel
  was temporarily seeking sanctuary.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  A Rock-lined Road [NESW]
     A small road of sorts runs from east to west here, a narrow greyish line
  separating the endless dune-filled landscape to the north from the dull and
  barren wastelands to the south. Small rocks mark the northern border of the
  road, apparently cleared from the path. The crimson sun beats down upon the
  dusty road, causing the rocks to shimmer slightly in the intense heat.
  The brawny, black-haired man is standing here, bleeding heavily.
  A grey kank has arrived from the south.

  You stop leading a grey kank.

  The brawny, black-haired man begins leading a grey kank.

  The brawny, black-haired man jumps up onto a grey kank's back.

  You say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "C'mon, it's on our tail."

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  The militiamen saddle up as fast as they can and continue their escape back to civilization. They make it safely back to Allanak, but not without terrible wounds. They stable their kanks, and assess their situation.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The brawny, black-haired man says, in sirihish:
       "Uh... private... I'm bleedin'.... everywhere."

  Wobbling in his steps, you say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "Shut..up...ya' lookit..me..."

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man coughs, dripping blood everywhere.

  The brawny, black-haired man looks at you.

  The brawny, black-haired man's eyes go wide.

  Wavy locks of mauve-colored hair flays wildly on this young man's head.
  He has a normal build, pronounced muscles and a somewhat discolored skin
  tone.  He is pale in some spots but also tanned-brown in others.  There is a
  light crimson stain the size of a coin on the side of his face, irregularly
  shaped and noticeable from afar.  His mmauve eyebrows emanate intensity as
  they are thinly groomed and close together, as if giving him a scowl which
  contradicts with the two permanent dimples on his smooth cheeks. 
  The splotched, mauve-tousled man looks near death.

  <worn on head>           a new stained black, braxat-shell greathelm
  <worn in hair>           a thin leather headband
  <worn on face>           a pair of bone sunslits
  <worn around neck>       a reddish-brown chitinous collar
  <slung across back>      a massive bone greatsword
  <worn across back>       a bahamet-embroidered leather backpack
  <worn on arms>           a new pair of black, bone scalemail arm-guards
  <worn around wrist>      a scrab shell wristguard
  <worn around wrist>      a sleek black quirri-clawed bracer
  <worn on hands>          a pair of sable, chitin-plated leather gloves
  <worn around body>       a black, hooded militia dustcloak
  <worn on legs>           a bloodied set of cuirbouilli leg guards
  <worn on right ankle>    a black sandcloth bandana
  <worn on left ankle>     a black sandcloth bandana
  <worn on feet>           a pair of high, polished black leather boots

  Half-smirking, blood tracing his teeth, you say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "Still standin'."

  The brawny, black-haired man says, in sirihish:
       "Mebbe... we better... go see them... healers... 'r else..."

  Coughing blood, the brawny, black-haired man says, in sirihish:
       "we ain'.. gonna be able... t' go on... t' misshun."

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  With nothing but heading back to the barracks on their mind, they stagger down Theyak's Walk, rapidly losing blood.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  You say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "If ya can't heal in one week, I'll kick yer ass."

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man clutches his arms, a large gash lacerated on his flesh.

  The brawny, black-haired man asks, in sirihish:
       "From that? He took half me chest off, and that ain' even half what he did to you?"

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man pauses for a moment, falling to his knees.

  As blood pulsates and spurts from his wounds, you exclaim, in sirihish:
       "Krath..shit!"

  Painedly, the brawny, black-haired man asks you, in sirihish:
       "You sure we shouldn' see them healers, Private...?"

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man eyes the massive pool around his body with wide-eyes of horror.

  The brawny, black-haired man says to you, in sirihish:
       "Better git afore y' start feelin' all them wounds..."

  Slowly crawling to his knees, you say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "Back...to the barracks...medics..."

  The brawny, black-haired man grunts and wraps an arm around your shoulders, helping you up.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man falls onto the brawny, black-haired man's arms, blood spilling all over the brawny, black-haired man's clothes.

  The brawny, black-haired man says, in sirihish:
       "Yessir..."

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  With Harlan slumped over his shoulders, Soriel painfully trudges towards the barracks.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Eyeing his messy red wounds with horror, you exclaim to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "What the fuck devil beetle was that!"

  The small, red-mopped boy sends you a telepathic message:
      "I don't know where you are or what in Krath happened to you, but I've already informed the Vivaduans to make preparations to save your life.  I'd get to their temple as soon as possible...You look like hell."

  As he stumbles through the gates, the brawny, black-haired man exclaims to the dusty, brown-haired soldier, in sirihish:
       "Were five beetles, ambushed us! Crazy drov beetles they was!"

  A Roomy Barracks [NEW]
     The thickness of the dull red mud bricks of which this barracks has
  been built provides it with a coolness which resists the worst of the
  Zalanthan sun.  The furnishings are simple: neatly ordered cots sit in rows,
  a few with footlockers built into one end, while a large weapons rack hangs
  on the wall underneath a wooden frieze depicting the desert, gith, jozhals
  and scrabs moving through the dunes.  Below the frieze, extending down the
  walls and covering the floor, are ceramic tiles composed of all the hues of
  the desert: vermilion, bronze, amber, rust, tawny yellow, and ochre.  The
  tiles are laid in an abstract, undulating pattern reminiscent of rolling
  dunes. 
  A simple wooden chest sits here on the floor.
  A cracked stone storage bin, nearly falling apart, has been put here.
  The brawny, black-haired man is standing here, bleeding heavily.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man grunts as he is dragged along by the brawny, black-haired man, a bloody red trail in his wake.

  The brawny, black-haired man drags you over to a cot and lowers you down before falling down to one near it.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man falls backwards into a small leather cot.

  Groaning, the brawny, black-haired man says, in sirihish:
       "Tryin'.. t' find... them healers'... minds...."

  His voice barely a whisper, you say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "Vivaduan temple...now...healers...waiting..."

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man rolls and falls from his cot.

  Groaning as he pushes up, the brawny, black-haired man says to you, in sirihish:
       "C'mon Private... I'll.. drag ya..."

  The brawny, black-haired man grabs your arms weakly to pull you up, and uses his brawny bulk to support your weight.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  The wounded men make their way to the Vivaduan Temple, so close yet so far...and not without staining the streets with their dripping blood.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The slender, sun-browned man sends you a telepathic message:
      "If you're as fucked up as Jasper says, I'd suggest coming to the Temple, Private."

  Stumbling in as he half-carries a bloodied man, red streaks following his wake, the brawny, black-haired man walks west.
  You follow the brawny, black-haired man, and walk west.

  The Temple of Vivadu [EW]
     Here inside the Temple of Vivadu, the architecture is simple and
  serene, surfaces unadorned to allow the beauty of the stonework to show
  unobscured by excess ornamentation.  In the center lies a large pool of
  water, its basin carved of smooth blue stone, elementalists sitting around
  it to meditate while contemplating its unruffled surface.  The walls are
  curved, forming a large cylinder which arches upwards towards a low,
  white-painted dome.  The floor is composed of alternating blue and grey
  ceramic tiles, laid in rippling, wave-like patterns.  In small alcoves along
  the wall sit abstract sculptures, their clean, uncomplicated lines pleasing
  to the eye. 
     An open archway, made of smooth grey stone, leads eastward outside the
  temple towards Vivadu's Path.  To the west, in the middle of the wall, a
  small door appears to lead further into the temple. 
  The brawny, black-haired man is standing here, bleeding heavily.
  The small, red-mopped boy is standing here.
  The willowy, tangle-haired girl is standing here.
  The slender, sun-browned man is standing here.
  The sleek, pale-eyed woman stands here in quiet contemplation.

  Pointing weakly with a finger, you say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "There...there.."

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl's cheeks flush as she stares at the still-empty waterskin.

  A fine mist condenses near the willowy, tangle-haired girl as she begins a spell.

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl utters an incantation.
  The willowy, tangle-haired girl opens her palm and water flows from her skin into a leather waterskin.

  Softly, the willowy, tangle-haired girl says, in rinthi-accented sirihish:
       "c'mon dammit..."

  Turning towards the commotion at the entryway, the small, red-mopped boy says to the slender, sun-browned man, in sirihish:
       "There they are."

  Keeping his gaze towards you as he furrows his brows, though speaking to the willowy, tangle-haired girl, the slender, sun-browned man says, in sirihish:
       "Keep yourself relaxed, don't force anything.."

  Moisture suddenly swells up around the willowy, tangle-haired girl as water fills her leather waterskin completely and even overflows out of it.

  Shaking his head as blood seeps onto the ground, you exclaim to the slender, sun-browned man, in sirihish:
       "No, no, your floors... your floors!"

  The small, red-mopped boy looks up at you with a grim face as he steps back.

  The brawny, black-haired man drags you a little further and then simply collapses as his knees give out.

  Dropping you beside him, the brawny, black-haired man sits down to rest.

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl looks at you going very still, with wide blue eyes.

  Shifting his attention to the brawny, black-haired man with a brisk tone, the small, red-mopped boy asks, in sirihish:
       "Recruit, what in Drov happened, and where is the Lady Templar?"

  Collapsing and following next to the brawny, black-haired man, you sit down and rest your tired bones.

  Stepping towards you as he flicks his left hand dismissively, the slender, sun-browned man says, in sirihish:
       "It's fine, Harlan. Keep quiet, hmm? I'm relatively certain my waters can clean a few stains.."

  Looking up, his voice weak, the brawny, black-haired man says to the small, red-mopped boy, in sirihish:
       "She's fine... we went out fer a patrol after she got back... were five beetles... drov-beetles they was.. ambushed us..."

  Pressing his lips together as he shifts his azure-stained gaze towards the brawny, black-haired man, the slender, sun-browned man asks, in sirihish:
       "Drov-beetles?"

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man's eyelids shut as he fades in and out of consciousness, his head rolling in the brawny, black-haired man's lap.

  Murmuring to himself, the small, red-mopped boy asks, in sirihish:
       "Five?"

  The small, red-mopped boy asks the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "How close to the city?"

  Nodding weakly, the brawny, black-haired man says, in sirihish:
       "Were the size of.. of... giants... crazed... out fer blood..."

  Grunting softly to himself as he graps your ankles, dragging you to the edge of a shallow stone pool with a heavy grunt, the slender, sun-browned man asks, in sirihish:
       "Jasper, tell him to shut up for now.. Contact the Lady Templar Oash, and bring here her, hmm?"

  Meekly, shivering as she stares at the two bleeding men, the willowy, tangle-haired girl says, in rinthi-accented sirihish:
       "I... I um... yer skin's full."

  Sighing gently to himself, the slender, sun-browned man furrows his brows as he gazes downward towards you, lightly clasping his hands together as they shine with a faint layer of moisture.

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl pushes her leather waterskin over to the small, red-mopped boy.

  Dropping to his knees, the small, red-mopped boy says to the slender, sun-browned man, in sirihish:
       "I believe she's unavailable, as i tried earlier.  But I'll search for her mind again."

  The small, red-mopped boy sits down to rest.

  Pausing to flash a quick smile up at the willowy, tangle-haired girl, the small, red-mopped boy says, in sirihish:
       "Thanks."

  Surrendering a soft sigh, the slender, sun-browned man whispers a soothing hymn to himself, drawing his palms downward as light tendrils of mist begin to flood downward, seeping along your form within a shimmering sheen of dew.

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl flushes and then slowly drags herself over near the slender, sun-browned man.

  A fine mist condenses near the slender, sun-browned man as he begins a spell.

  The slender, sun-browned man utters an incantation.
  A warm feeling fills you, as wounds close all over your body.

  Quietly, the willowy, tangle-haired girl says to the slender, sun-browned man, in rinthi-accented sirihish:
       "Lemme help..."

  Raising his left hand as he motions his chin towards the brawny, black-haired man, the slender, sun-browned man says, in sirihish:
       "Help him, then, until I can treat him.."

  The brawny, black-haired man's eyes go wide as he watches the slender, sun-browned man.

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl looks down at the brawny, black-haired man and nods slowly.

  Shaking his head as he rises again, the small, red-mopped boy says, in sirihish:
       "No, I can't reach any of the Templarate."

  The small, red-mopped boy rises from the ground, and clambers to his feet.

  Relaxing his form visibly, the slender, sun-browned man clenches his rune-etched hands together, his knuckles turning white with strain as a small droplet splashes downward against your chest, allowing the rivulet to spread across a bloodied wound.

  A fine mist condenses near the slender, sun-browned man as he begins a spell.

  The slender, sun-browned man utters an incantation.
  A warm feeling fills you, as wounds close all over your body.

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl pads over to the brawny, black-haired man and kneels down, brushing her hair out of her eyes as she looks over his wounds.

  The small, red-mopped boy takes a swig from his leather waterskin as he shifts his attention to the brawny, black-haired man again.

  Pulling back his hooded, sandy-brown reinforced sandcloth duster, the brawny, black-haired man says, in sirihish:
       "Me leg... 'n half me ribs... that beetle were ferocious..."

  Sniffing softly as he brushes the underside of his nose, slowly rising to his feet as he glances downward towards you, the slender, sun-browned man says, in sirihish:
       "Stay down there as long as you want.. You'll be fine, now."

  Blinking in surprise as he removes his leather waterskin from his lips, the small, red-mopped boy says, in sirihish:
       "That's very good, Flower."

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl takes a deep breath, her hands shaking as she lays them on the brawny, black-haired man's chest, finding the open skin of the bleeding wounds with a warm touch.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man peers down at his torso with complete shock.

  A fine mist condenses near the willowy, tangle-haired girl as she begins a spell.

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl utters an incantation.
  The willowy, tangle-haired girl heals the brawny, black-haired man.

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl passes her hands down over the brawny, black-haired man's chest and then down to his pants, then falls backward with a gasp, her body covered in a faint sheen of moisture.

  Watching as his wounds visibly close up in front of him, by magickal forces, you ask the slender, sun-browned man, in sirihish:
       "What the...where....wounds....gone?"

  The slender, sun-browned man folds his arms lightly across his chest as he watches the willowy, tangle-haired girl for a moment, flicking his azure-stained gaze towards a shallow stone pool as he quietly approaches it's edge, surrendering a painful sigh.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man summons the strength and picks himself up onto his feet.

  Cringing for a moment as he gazes towards a shallow stone pool, before looking back towards you, the slender, sun-browned man says, in sirihish:
       "Yes, they're gone, now.."

  Straightening, you rise and stand.

  The brawny, black-haired man shivers in anticipation as moisture gathers around the willowy, tangle-haired girl, squeezing his eyes shut, then blinks them open a few times and sits straight up.

  Speaking quietly as he heads for the street, the small, red-mopped boy says to the slender, sun-browned man, in sirihish:
       "You've got enough people in here without me too, Kasyh.  I'll be in the Barrel if you're feeling up to venturing out later."

  His cheeks flushing back to a healthy, glowing complexion, you say to the slender, sun-browned man, in sirihish:
       "Kasyh."

  Glancing over his left shoulder towards the small, red-mopped boy, the slender, sun-browned man says, in sirihish:
       "She's coming.."

  The brawny, black-haired man pulls back his hooded, sandy-brown reinforced sandcloth duster, freshly healed pink skin visible under the breaks in his breastplate and pants.

  Pausing as he glances back over at the slender, sun-browned man, the small, red-mopped boy asks, in sirihish:
       "Who's coming?"

  Pushing up to his feet with a dazed expression, the brawny, black-haired man rises and stands.

  The brawny, black-haired man takes a few steps testingly.

  Shaking his head faintly as he looks back towards you, the slender, sun-browned man says, in sirihish:
       "It's my job, Private.."

  As he finds himself able to walk, the brawny, black-haired man shouts, in sirihish:
       "Highlord be praised! She done fixed me!"

  Turning from the edge of a shallow stone pool completely, regaining his own posture, the slender, sun-browned man says, in sirihish:
       "The Lady Templar Oash."

  The brawny, black-haired man rushes back over to the willowy, tangle-haired girl and envelops her in a tight hug of his huge arms.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar has arrived from the east.
  The half-giant soldier has arrived from the east.
  The half-giant soldier has arrived from the east.

  The brawny, black-haired man shouts, in sirihish:
       "She done fixed me! I's saved!"

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl squeaks against the brawny, black-haired man's chest.

  The small, red-mopped boy looks up at the trim, ebon-haired templar's entrance and bends at the waist.

  Striding in briskly, her tone annoyed, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "Militia, start talking."

  Keeping a calmed, if nozt slightly drained expression, the slender, sun-browned man bows respectfully towards the trim, ebon-haired templar upon her approa.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man turns upon hearing entrance, then snaps a firm salute to the trim, ebon-haired templar.

  The brawny, black-haired man looks over at the trim, ebon-haired templar, then back at the willowy, tangle-haired girl, then down to the gem around the willowy, tangle-haired girl's neck.

  The brawny, black-haired man releases the willowy, tangle-haired girl quickly and backs away slowly.

  You say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "We went out to patrol the farming villages, milady. And was ambushed by a horde of drov-beetles the size of giants."

  Gazing to you sharply, the trim, ebon-haired templar asks you, in sirihish:
       "Which village?"

  You say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "Menos, milady."

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl looks at the brawny, black-haired man with a light frown and sighs, padding over to sit on the floor by herself.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
       "Direction, not some name that means nothing to me."

  Muttering, the willowy, tangle-haired girl sits down to rest.

  The brawny, black-haired man points westward.

  His breathing firm and steady, his flesh healed over pink, you say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "South of 'nak. In the fields."

  The small, red-mopped boy shoots a quick glance at the slender, sun-browned man before scrunching his face up thoughtfully.

  Grimacing faintly and peering over her shoulder, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "Show me at dawn."

  The slender, sun-browned man dips his head lightly towards the small, red-mopped boy as he twists his lips to one side, thoughtfully.

  His face flushing red, his cheek muscles tensing, you ask the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "Show...show you, Lady Templar?"

  Crossing her arms over her chest, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "Yes.  Private, you may stay.  All others who have no business being in the temple of Vivadu, get out."

  The brawny, black-haired man glances over at you uneasily.

  Immediately, you say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "Yes, right away."

  The brawny, black-haired man bows to the trim, ebon-haired templar and starts to shuffle out, glancing aside at the willowy, tangle-haired girl.

  The small, red-mopped boy bows briefly to the trim, ebon-haired templar as he moves towards the street outside.

  The slender, sun-browned man folds his arms within the sleeves of his water-hued robes, idly pacing along the edge of a shallow stone pool.

  Stepping out quickly, the brawny, black-haired man walks east.

  Without looking at her as he passes the willowy, tangle-haired girl, the small, red-mopped boy says, in sirihish:
       "Thanks for the water."

  The small, red-mopped boy walks east.

  Annoyedly, muttering to herself, the willowy, tangle-haired girl says, in rinthi-accented sirihish:
       "'She done fixed me! I's saved!' Blah blah blah..."

  The slender, sun-browned man raises his right hand from his chest, snapping his fingers as his lips start to move, glancing back towards the willowy, tangle-haired girl.

  Turning to look out to the street, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "Vivaduans, at dawn you'll place what protective magicks you can on me, and then Private Harlan if able."

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl snorts and jerks a hand up, raising a middle finger towards the entrance of the temple.

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl quickly looks back to the slender, sun-browned man and hides her hand behind her back.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man peers with distaste at the willowy, tangle-haired girl.

  Bowing his head lightly, keeping his gaze downward, the slender, sun-browned man whispers something to the trim, ebon-haired templar.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar pinches the bridge of her nose lightly.

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl sighs, pulling her knees up to her chest.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar asks you, in sirihish:
       "Is this village easily within walking distance?"

  Leaning up against the archway, the trim, ebon-haired templar sits down.

  After a moment's thought, you say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "It is...but not adviseable, milady."

  Nodding, the trim, ebon-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
       "Very well.  Unless you've two mount tickets on you, go fetch another."

  Nodding once more and holding out her hand, the trim, ebon-haired templar stands up.

  You give a stitched, obsidian-dyed ticket to the trim, ebon-haired templar.

  Lowering her voice, the trim, ebon-haired templar asks you, in sirihish:
       "Did you see any sign of who summoned them?"

  Shaking his head, you say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "No milady, those black armored beasts just rampaged from across the horizon."

  Starting to pace away, the trim, ebon-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
       "I see.  Just in case, come here."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar walks west.
  You follow the trim, ebon-haired templar, and walk west.

  Moving up the stairs, not slowing as she nears the thorns, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "I don't like crowds."

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  Lady Templar Anezka finds an empty room upstairs.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The trim, ebon-haired templar gazes around, making sure the chamber is empty.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar closes the door.

  Turning to you, raising her right hand, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "A temporary gift from the Highlord."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar touches your forehead, her finger surrounding itself with greenish light while her lips move silently.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar shouts, in sirihish:
       "In the name of the Highlord, let my eyes see true foul magicks hidden from me!"

  The trim, ebon-haired templar utters an incantation.
  You feel in tune with the elements.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar looks at you thoughtfully.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man blinks his eyes, the pupils glowing green.

  Keeping her hand in place, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "And one more..."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar shouts, in sirihish:
       "In the name of the Highlord, let those hidden by magicks be rendered visible!"

  The trim, ebon-haired templar utters an incantation.
  Your eyes tingle.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man jostles, his eyes washing over in another dazzling flash of colors.

  Your encumbrance is manageable.
  You are:
  Recruit of the Allanak Militia Recruits, jobs:
  Private / Archer / Soldier / Black Soldier / Clerk / Praetorian Guard of the Arm of the Dragon, jobs:
  Relationship to the land is neutral.
  You are currently speaking sirihish with a southern accent.
  You are affected by:
     Detect Invisible, Detect Magick
  You are standing.
  You are refusing saves (nosave on).
  You are not being merciful.

  Moving back to the door, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "If any are attempting to hide with magicks, you shall see them.  And I'd suggest you keep this to yourself."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar opens the door.

  His eyes opening and dilating with renewed vigor, you say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "An honor milady."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar nods her head firmly.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  They leave the temple and make their way to the city gates. Concerned with the gravity of the situation, Lady Templar requests further assistance from the Gemmed and an outfit of militia soldiers.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Outside the Main Gate [NESW]
     The two dark towers of Allanak's main gate lie just to the east, soaring
  skyward in an apparent attempt to pierce the endless sky above. Their rough
  red stones look as if they could stand firm for all eternity, towering over
  fifty cords above. The gate itself is a large stone barricade of sorts that
  is normally closed only at night. The Outer Circle extends to the north and
  to the south from here.
     A black steel dragon sits atop the mighty walls, gazing hungrily towards
  the western horizon from its place by the towers. A large crowd of Allanaki
  citizens--from the filthiest commoner to the most refined noble--gathers at
  the wall below the statue, all in various degrees of prostration before the
  great beast.
  A human soldier of Tektolnes lounges in the shade of the statue here.
  A human soldier of Tektolnes walks along here.
  A yellow kank stands here, carrying the trim, ebon-haired templar on his back.
  The small, red-mopped boy lingers at the edge of the morning crowds.
  The slight, dark-skinned man is standing here.
  The half-giant soldier has arrived from the east.
  The half-giant soldier has arrived from the east.

  The figure in a set of hooded, water-hued robes has arrived from the east.
  The willowy, tangle-haired girl has arrived from the east.

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl raises the hood of a hooded, ebony cloak.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar falls in behind you.

  Nodding, the trim, ebon-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
       "Bring me just beyond sight of it."

  Riding a yellow kank forward, you say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "Menos, milady."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar unslings a blackened serrated bone warsword from her back.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  They ride in silence through the golden wheat fields of 'nak, before Menos rises into view.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  West of here are Barren Fields.
  [Very far]
  Nothing.
  [Far]
  A broad, sprawling farm village lies in the fields here.
  [Near]
  Nothing.

  Raising a hand to shield his eyes from the harsh sunrays, you say, in sirihish:
       "There it is, Lady Templar."

  Glancing around, the trim, ebon-haired templar asks you, in sirihish:
       "You saw them in front of it?"

  You say, in sirihish:
       "The largest farming village to supply Allanak...Menos."

  Nodding, you say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "Yes, those beetles were around the vicinity."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar nods, gesturing onward.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  They pull their bleating kanks towards the head of the village, and survey the area.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man pulls to a halt beside the entrance.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar rides up by a broad, sprawling farm village, peering within.

  You ask the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "You think a sorceror may be hiding in there?"

  The trim, ebon-haired templar asks you, in sirihish:
       "Doubtful, but possible.  It happened right here?"

  You say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "No, I will show you."

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  With Private Harlan at the lead, they traverse across the desert of the Vrun Driath, the unrelenting glare of Suk-krath beating on their backs.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man glances around warily, hands gripping the reins tightly.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
       "Try bringing us in at an angle."

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man nods silently to the trim, ebon-haired templar.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  Some time passes, and they are still riding quietly across the desert.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The trim, ebon-haired templar asks, in sirihish:
       "How much farther?"

  Shaking his head with disbelief, you say, in sirihish:
       "Krath...it's moved across the entire desert..."

  To the north is Dusty Plains.
  [Very far]
  Nothing.
  [Far]
  A huge black beetle crawls around the desert floor.
  [Near]
  Nothing.

  A tremor in his voice, you say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "There, milady...that cursed beast."

  Gesturing lightly, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "With me now."

  You now follow the trim, ebon-haired templar.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  They circle around the beetle, dismount, and draw their weapons. The battle ensues...
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  A human Allanaki soldier slashes a large black beetle's neck, inflicting a grievous wound.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man pants heavily, stepping back as the massive beetle crashes to the ground.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar gazes down at the body of a large black beetle expectantly, then climbs onto her kank, tucking a sword away.

  Worried, you ask the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "Will it explode now, milady?"

  Riding off to the north, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "A regular beetle."

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  They continue their trek through the desert, an air of suspicion rising about the Lady Templar.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Raising her eyebrows, the trim, ebon-haired templar asks you, in sirihish:
       "What gave you the idea they were summoned magickally?"

  You say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "You said they were summoned, Lady Templar."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar asks you, in sirihish:
       "When did I say such a thing?"

  You say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "When I told you we nearly died, Lady Templar..."

  Glancing behind his back, you ask the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "It won't come back to life and chase us, will it?"

  Sighing, the trim, ebon-haired templar asks you, in sirihish:
       "Private...those beetles are common to this area.  You and the recruit had mentioned the beetles were summoned by Drov, did you not?"

  You say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "It was...eating us alive... I...saved..."

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  At a further loss for words, Private Harlan rides on with the Lady Templar back to 'nak.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Outside the Main Gate [NESW]
     The two dark towers of Allanak's main gate lie just to the east, soaring
  skyward in an apparent attempt to pierce the endless sky above. Their rough
  red stones look as if they could stand firm for all eternity, towering over
  fifty cords above. The gate itself is a large stone barricade of sorts that
  is normally closed only at night. The Outer Circle extends to the north and
  to the south from here.
     A black steel dragon sits atop the mighty walls, gazing hungrily towards
  the western horizon from its place by the towers. A large crowd of Allanaki
  citizens--from the filthiest commoner to the most refined noble--gathers at
  the wall below the statue, all in various degrees of prostration before the
  great beast.
  A half-giant soldier of Tektolnes stands here impassively.
  A half-giant soldier of Tektolnes walks along here.
  A human soldier of Tektolnes lounges in the shade of the statue here.
  A human soldier of Tektolnes walks along here.
  A yellow kank stands here, carrying the trim, ebon-haired templar on his back.
  The willowy, tangle-haired girl is standing here.
  The figure in a set of hooded, water-hued robes is standing here.
  The brawny, black-haired man is standing here.

  The brawny, black-haired man bows to the trim, ebon-haired templar as the large group approaches.

  Looking back, tucking her sword away, the trim, ebon-haired templar asks you, in sirihish:
       "Where there five, Private?  Or just two?"

  Similiarly, the figure in a set of hooded, water-hued robes bows respectfully towards the trim, ebon-haired templar, before slowly straightening his form.

  You say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "I saw two, milady."

  The figure in a set of hooded, water-hued robes blinks several times, glancing over towards the brawny, black-haired man, then back towards you.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar frowns and rides up closer to you, solidly thumping the flat of her blackened serrated bone warsword against your head.

  The willowy, tangle-haired girl attempts an awkward bow toward the trim, ebon-haired templar.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man grunts, the heavy bone crashing against his skull.

  Turning to the gates, scowling, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "Gemmed...you won't be needed.  You two, come to the recruit barracks."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar touches her hand against her medallion of Tektolnes before riding on.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  They head to the barracks.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  A Small Training Yard [S]
     This dusty square yard is enclosed by sturdy-looking stone walls topped
  with shards of broken glass. The walls appear to be either fairly new or
  relatively well maintained, though they bear a number of rough scuff marks
  and scratches. The ground is hard-packed and fairly flat, allowing the dust
  to tell its tale of combats fought here. To the north, a wooden weapons
  rack is set along the wall, and to the south, a small wooden gate opens up
  into a courtyard.
  A shadow falls over the area, driving off the uncomfortable heat.
  A bench, made of worn grey stone, sits against a wall.
  The trim, ebon-haired templar is standing here.
  The half-giant soldier has arrived from the south.
  The half-giant soldier has arrived from the south.

  The brawny, black-haired man has arrived from the south.

  The brawny, black-haired man hurries in on the double and bows to the trim, ebon-haired templar.

  Striding into the middle of a clearing, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "Both of you, remove your dustcloaks, backpacks, any weapons hung on your back, and chest protection."

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man heaves a breath before immediately acquiescing.

  The brawny, black-haired man swallows as he starts unstrapping his gear.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  Uneasily, they begin stripping off their clothes, shaking on their knees in fear.
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Crossing her arms over her chest, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "And while you do that, explain how the fuck five beetles summoned from Drov itself turned out to be two beetles commonly found in the area."

  His voice hoarse, the brawny, black-haired man says to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "Well... er... y'see... Lady Templar.. er... we was..."

  As he strips off his clothes, his torso bared against the sun, you say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "We both nearly died, milady. We ran like the wind when it hit us only twice, trying to eat us."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar slips her hand into her oversized black backpack, pulling out a coiled length of leather.

  Clearing his throat, the brawny, black-haired man says, in sirihish:
       ".. uh... tryin'... not t' make His Militia look bad... t' them gemmers 'n that kid."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar gets a wickedly barbed whip from an oversized black backpack.

  Nodding enthusiastically to you, the brawny, black-haired man exclaims to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "It sure were real vicious!"

  You say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "Lady Templar, the entire unit was given ten lashes just a few days ago..."

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man gazes down at the ground, the fresh wounds upon his back pink under the sun.

  Letting the barbed tips of her whip drop, the trim, ebon-haired templar says to you, in sirihish:
       "I know, Private."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar brandishes a wickedly barbed whip.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man kneels to the ground as if automatically, head bowed into the dust.

  Head bowed, kneeling low in the ground, back bared, you say, in sirihish:
       "Lord Templar Vaedon says pain will cleanse the mind. Do what you must, my lady."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar walks behind the brawny, black-haired man, then suddenly cracks her wickedly barbed whip, opening a wide gash on his back.

  The trim, ebon-haired woman raises a wickedly barbed whip and lashes out at the brawny, black-haired man.
  *CRACK* A long, bloody gash opens up on the brawny, black-haired man's back.

  Falling to his knees and letting out a cry through clenched teeth, the brawny, black-haired man sits down.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar brings her bloodied wickedly barbed whip down again, the spurs lodging themselves into the brawny, black-haired man's flesh before she tears them out with another flick of her wrist.

  The trim, ebon-haired woman raises a wickedly barbed whip and lashes out at the brawny, black-haired man.
  *CRACK* A long, bloody gash opens up on the brawny, black-haired man's back.

  The brawny, black-haired man cries out both as the whip hits and as it pulls away, his hands grabbing at the hard, dusty ground.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man does not bear to glance up, his head lowered as it stares into the ground, awaiting.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar snaps her bloodied wickedly barbed whip one last time, each of its nine barbed braids slicing through the brawny, black-haired man.

  The trim, ebon-haired woman raises a wickedly barbed whip and lashes out at the brawny, black-haired man.
  *CRACK* A long, bloody gash opens up on the brawny, black-haired man's back.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar looks down at the brawny, black-haired man as she moves to stand by you.

  Blood streaks down the brawny, black-haired man's back as he bites down into the leather sleeves on his arms, his back shaking.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man steadies his breathing, unperturbed by the brawny, black-haired man's cries of agony.

  Looking over your back, searching for the deepest lash before opening a fresh one over it, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "Pride is one thing, lying about it to your superior is another."

  The trim, ebon-haired woman raises a wickedly barbed whip and lashes out at you.
  *CRACK* Fiery pain dizzies you as the blow savages your back.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man lifts a fist and bites down on it, reallocating the pain searing across his bare back.

  The trim, ebon-haired templar lifts her right boot, stomping the heel against the fresh cut on you.

  Hot tears streaming down his cheeks, you say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "That moment, Lady Templar...they were truly monster beetles....no pride, no pride, my lady."

  Cracking her bloodied wickedly barbed whip again, ripping through your flesh, the trim, ebon-haired templar shouts, in sirihish:
       "They're bugs!"

  The trim, ebon-haired woman raises a wickedly barbed whip and lashes out at you.
  *CRACK* Fiery pain dizzies you as the blow savages your back.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man digs his nails into the dusty ground, firmly gripping it in pain.

  With a final sharp snap of her wrist, the trim, ebon-haired templar opens up a long gash crossing over your shoulder blades.

  The trim, ebon-haired woman raises a wickedly barbed whip and lashes out at you.
  *CRACK* Fiery pain dizzies you as the blow savages your back.

  Spittle flies from the splotched, mauve-tousled man's mouth as he cries in pain.

  First kicking you down to the ground, then doing the same to the brawny, black-haired man, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "Serve well as you had on the patrol, and you'll be rewarded well..."

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man shivers in his own bloody mess, the lacerations in his back reopened and pulsating, spewing blood with each heartbeat.

  Sending the tip of her bloodied wickedly barbed whip into the air with a loud *CRACK*, flinging off bits of blood and flesh, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "Fuck up so bad and lie about it, and I'll make you wish you were dead long before I grant that mercy."

  The trim, ebon-haired templar quickly wipes the blood off of a bloodied wickedly barbed whip.

  The brawny, black-haired man swallows and nods, managing to look up, his eyes bleary.

  Lying prostrate before the trim, ebon-haired templar, struggling to speak, you say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "Merciful, milady. You are merciful. We thank you...thank you..."

  Looking between you and the brawny, black-haired man and coiling her whip back up, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "Neither of you are allowed to go on patrols outside the city without an officer or higher.  And you'll not get these wounds healed by the Vivaduans."

  Weakly, the brawny, black-haired man says, in sirihish:
       "Yes milady.... merciful... no patrollin'..."

  Barely able to nod his head, you say to the trim, ebon-haired templar, in sirihish:
       "Understood, Lady Templar...each cut across my back serves as a lesson, milady."

  While tucking her wickedly barbed whip away, turning, the trim, ebon-haired templar says, in sirihish:
       "There's hope for both of you.  Don't fuck it up by being stupid."

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man lies flat in a red pool of blood then scrambles to his knees as he hurries to scoop of bits of his own flesh littering the ground.

  The brawny, black-haired man nods to the trim, ebon-haired templar weakly once again, grabbing up his discarded armor and duster.

  A Roomy Barracks [NEW]
     The thickness of the dull red mud bricks of which this barracks has
  been built provides it with a coolness which resists the worst of the
  Zalanthan sun.  The furnishings are simple: neatly ordered cots sit in rows,
  a few with footlockers built into one end, while a large weapons rack hangs
  on the wall underneath a wooden frieze depicting the desert, gith, jozhals
  and scrabs moving through the dunes.  Below the frieze, extending down the
  walls and covering the floor, are ceramic tiles composed of all the hues of
  the desert: vermilion, bronze, amber, rust, tawny yellow, and ochre.  The
  tiles are laid in an abstract, undulating pattern reminiscent of rolling
  dunes. 
  A simple wooden chest sits here on the floor.
  A cracked stone storage bin, nearly falling apart, has been put here.

  The brawny, black-haired man has arrived from the west, dragging himself in.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man stumbles to the floor.

  Falling face-forward, the brawny, black-haired man rests on a small leather cot.

  Falling on his rear, you sit down.

  The splotched, mauve-tousled man quickly tosses his armors back on, his wounds drying and hard.

  The brawny, black-haired man says, in sirihish:
       "Well shit.... we done fucked that up..."

  Glancing up at a small leather cot weakly, you say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "That was something."

  You say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "Fortunate she spared us with a lashing, s'all."

  Grunting, the brawny, black-haired man says, in sirihish:
       "Yah-huh."

  You say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "Don't ever say the words "drov" or "five" or...never again."

  The brawny, black-haired man says, in sirihish:
       "Or... beetle."

  Nodding meakly, you say to the brawny, black-haired man, in sirihish:
       "Beetle. Don't say beetle."

  Muttering, you ask, in sirihish:
       "Shit..how're we going to redeem ourselves?"

  The brawny, black-haired man says, in sirihish:
       "Uh... not fuck up again... 'n... uh...... shit.... I jus' wanna sleep."

  Falling asleep on the ground where he lays, you say, in sirihish:
       "Beetles...whippings...I've had enough..."

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  And that concludes our story, kids. Hope you enjoyed it.  We certainly did. ;)
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  *****From the perspective of the splotched, mauve-tousled man******

  You pass beneath the shadow of the black dragon.
  Inside the Main Gate [NESW]
     The main gate of the city-state of Allanak towers high here, its
  twin obsidian towers separating the life-threatening perils of the
  desert from the...

  
  Continue Reading...