The 26th Scroll: They Thirst

[Gamemaster]

Interlude
Jamilia looked up from the book. "Uncle," she said, "we have spoken before about the importance of water to the desert traveler. Could a person be taught to live without water?"

"An interesting idea," said the elder, closing the book "and one that has, in fact, been tried. Listen: Many years ago, the House of Dhiíb, the enlightened Sons of the Wolf, 'asked' seven of their strongest young warriors to participate in an experiment. Refusal meant death for the warriors' families.

"The warriors were sequestered in a cave in the Mountains of Forgotten Dreams. A dozen Sons guarded the entrance. The warriors each were given a bucket containing one gallon of water. The following day, one drop would be removed from the day's ration, Two drops would be removed on the following day, and another drop every day after until the warriors would receive no water at all. The Sons employed a sorcerer to enchant the warriors to improve their chances of success.

"The experiment did not go as planned.

"When the warriors ration had been reduced to a half-gallon, they begged the guards for relief. When the ration was less than a cup, the warriors were driven mad with thirst. When the ration was only a few drops, the warriors attacked the guards, slit their throats, and-

"I do not wish to hear the details," groaned Jamilia. "I assume that is the end of the story."

"lt is only the beginning," said Husar. He opened the book again.

[Gamemaster]

4th of Dar
Strong, stinging gusts of wind steadily replaced the morning breeze as the caravan made ready to resume its trek to Vahtov. In the short time it took them to break camp, the makings of a decent sand storm were obvious to those experienced with life in the desert.
The narrow canyon walls blocked most of the wind and blowing sand, but the howling wind beyond was as the moans of the restless dead.
In the light of day, the temple lying beyond the oasis was much less imposing. The valley itself was an oasis from the storm which now raged beyond the high mountain walls. The sun filtering through the billowing cloud of sand cast the valley in a dreary light, the colors washed and faded. The temple doors where shut; no one was to be seen.
Seeing no immediate danger, Ya'qub signaled for the caravan laborers to lead the camels down to the oasis for water. Sahra managed the pushing, snorting animals while Old Rajad and Maarouf hastened to fill the water bags.
As half the party stood guard at the oasis, Silk led the other half to some outlying buildings and the came back leading three camels and two horses; the mounts his ill-fated companions had used to reach this cursed place. The animals where fine- they'd been grazing on wild grasses unmolested.
The water supplies replenished, the party hastily rode on, giving the temple as wide a berth as possible. In the light of day, it lacked the malevolence of the previous night but they took no chances.
Leaving the temple and its oasis beyond they crossed the small valley and entered another narrow canyon. By midday they'd reached the other side of the mountain range after only a few aborted trips down dead-end trails.
Fate smiled upon you and the storm had lessened. The air was still heavy with dust which reduced the sun to a hazy white orb, but travel was still possible. The day passed uneventfully, mile upon mile across the shifting sands.

[Gamemaster]

Ya'qub noticed Khafaz always seemed to position himself near Sahra when possible and try to engage her in conversation. She seemed uncomfortable with his advances.
By nightfall, the party had crossed a stretch of desert and passed through another narrow range of jagged mountains that jutted from the sand. The mountains where inhospitable- blackened volcanic stone, with only the hardiest of desert plants scattered occasionally across it.
That night, the newcomers sensed an air of excitement and anticipation from their road-weary companions. Vahtov was within a day's ride to the northwest. Ya'qub warned all that he planned an early departure and disappeared inside his tent. A steady snore was heard soon thereafter.
--
Waleed felt something skitter across his bare leg and awoke with a start, throwing back his blanket. Shuttering, he sat up and shook out a large black beetle. It was a common beetle, harmless, and doing nothing more than... well whatever it is beetles do. Waleed pushed open the tent flap and shooed it outside with his boot. Satisfied, he cast his gaze across the desert outside. Silhouetted against the setting moon, a row of figures stood atop a dune, looking down at the tents and camels.
"Oh Blessed Fate, it was too good to last. Visitors!" Shouted Waleed as he went tent to tent, starting first with Ahmar's, rousing his companions to the alert.
Looking back, Waleed said with concern in his voice, "Mamoun, hide in the tent, have your razor at the ready!" Then drew his own scimitar, oh if only he had his brace of Katar's!
The desert-rider bursts from his tent, bow in hand.
"Fate curse the fool..." he began before mastering his temper. He crouches to the ground, eyes narrowed, peering across the moonlit sands at this new possible peril.
As the party awakens, all see the figures. Seven of them, standing atop a dune perhaps 200 meters away. One by one the strangers begin slow, sliding steps down the dune and toward the camp.
Waleed put away his sword. Either these strangers were overconfident, or they meant no harm. Keeping a wary eye out for others unseen, Waleed awaited the arrival of these seven strangers.
Watching the seven strangers move toward them, Ya'qub could feel his nerves rising up within him. He couldn't understand why Waleed put away his scimitar; there was no sign other than the ponderous descent there was any reason to relax. He felt his hand seek his dagger and prayed that he would not have to use it.
He also looked around to see how the camp's fires were burning...
"Mamoun, bring out the dried and salted lamb you prepared days ago. Let us see if our visitors are hungry." Waleed mentally prepared himself to cast a spell if need be, but he had hoped it wouldn't come to that.
The camp's fire was nothing but cold ashes in a shallow pit. Ya'qub thinks there are perhaps three hours before the dawn.
Mamoun stared sleepily at his master from the tent, clutching his blanket around him with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other. "Huh? Oh, the lamb... as you wish, Waleed."
"What manner of men are you that you approach our camp unannounced?" Ahmar shouts at the slowly approaching figures. Their strange, shuffling gait making him uneasy, he nocks an arrow and levels his bow at them. "Speak or I will drop you where you stand!"
Waleed's eyes grew wide, he hadn't thought about that. Zombies!
In a hushed voice straining not to betray his fear, Waleed asked Ahmar, "Do you think they're, you know, Zombies? Followed us from the temple have they?"

[Gamemaster]

Running from his tent---Amir yells to Silk, "Look after the women and the merchants."
Mounting Malikeea he draws his mighty khopesh. "If those are cursed dead, that bow will be little use. We will have to hack them limb from limb."
"Ya Ahmar, I’ll circle behind them---don't shoot me."
"My, he is an eager one." Waleed said in a hushed voice.
"Fried rice, yes fried rice, when I get back to Hiyal I'll go back to that little restaurant off of Market street and have some fried rice. Pork, chicken or shrimp, they're all good." Waleed was trying to calm himself and he wasn't so sure it was working.
Silk was awakened by all the noise and trying to think why no one had been on watch... he decided to check later as he retrieved his weapons and got ready for.. uninvited guest. He definitely did not understand why anyone would put way their weapons...
"those who do not anounce themselves cannot have good intentions".
Silk didn’t like to have to stay in the camp.. but he was willing to protect those others.. and he had a few tricks up his sleeve as well. He began to gather his will and ready the winds and sand to be his weapons. " Stand fast and do not enter the winds..." he shouted. His wall of wind divided the descending the approaching group from his new allies. "STOP .. he shouts to the group coming down from the hill... Or I will not hold the winds and sand from scouring your flesh to the bone.. be warned and state your intent". He holds the winds and sand to his will listening for an answer... or for any sign of attack.
"Can't one have a good night sleep in this bloody desert?" Noticing the nature of the danger in the unknown, Keesha smiles remembering a spell he used to watch over properties in the city, amused at how it can be used for such a situation.. making room out of her tent, she whistles a prepared tune to Eakon who, knowing the routine, takes off slowly while she utters "let his eyes be my eyes" and throws a pinch of glass in the air..
as she mutters her spell, Eakon flies a circle around the camp and approaches the strangers from the side , keeping at a safe distance
Watching him in position, Keesha concentrates on gaining a grasp on the nature of the strangers in order to prepare her upcoming defenses accordingly.
"I know only one tale of seven men who wandered the desert sands long after they should have perished." Ahmar says in a low voice to Waleed. "But that tale was not told here." he offers with little consolation.
"Would that our campfire not burned so low." Ahmar says suggestively to Ya'qub.
Ya'qub nods in agreement, but then, did Ahmar note a small, knowing smile on the lips of the gap-toothed caravneer? Just as quickly, it was gone again, and Ahmar was left to wonder if he had ever actually seen it...
Amir Jameel rode off into the night, intent on circling behind the approaching strangers. They still had not responded to any demands; either to stop or identify themselves.
"Wooomph!" A wave of heat radiated out from the campsite, and where moments before lay cold embers blazed a roaring fire. For all but Amir Jameel, the world became a very small place. Beyond the limits of the campfire light, the night reigned supreme, as glowing afterimages of the fire momemtarily danced in their eyes.
Mamoun gasped, then quickly regained his composure. "Hummmph," he snorted and then held some lamb kabobs over the fire. "They'll be having warm lamb then."
Silk spoke a rush of words that found no purchase in the ears and a howl of wind whistled up from nowhere. Stray bits of sand pelted the party.

[Gamemaster]

Keesha closed her eyes and concentrated as Eakon rose into the sky.
As the fire dwindled down a bit, and limited night vision returned, they could see the shadowy figures pushing through the wall of sand and wind, tattered robes billowing.
"Curse him for riding that ponderous beast!" Ahmar curses as he waits for Amir Jameel to position himself. Adjusting to the sudden blaze of the campfire he pulls back his bowstring, ready to loose his arrows at the seven lurkers in the darkness...
"I believe that tale about the seven men has followed us here, Ahmar." Waleed looked at the newcomers and could only ponder on how many people in this realm knew how to cast magic, it seemed now the group comprised mostly of them.
"Mamoun, back into the tent with you, no lamb this morning." Waleed took a burning stick, yes that would do he thought, concentrating momentarily, he let the stick fly.
"Drop that sorcerous wind, whoever's it is!" Ahmar shouts. "It'll ruin my aim."
As she concentrates on the figures she catches a glimpse of the walking death, and jumps back, breaking the connection with Eakon rememering a nightmarishing situation she was in once.
Desperate she tries to remember that one spell her friend and teacher Arathmas used on the graveyard where they were once surrounded by such horrible beasts, which allowed them at least to do a fast escape.
As the creatures approach with range of her spell, she focusses all her energy and extends her hands forward.
Silk holds his thoughts to controlling the winds and the sands they hold. "I will see the skin scoured from there bones... he shouts" It feels good to be able to do something to protect himself.. he had felt so helpless in the clutches of those former captors... he was going to make up for that moment now.
I pray to whatever Gods are listening and ready my sword---I’ll do a ride by attack on their right flank (my right--party's left).
"Unless you are some all powerful mage, all that you magic is doing it making it impossible for us to fire upon the enemy." Waleed said in a stern voice. "You're wasting our time!"
Silk hears the others ask... He was trying to give everyone time to prepare for what they might do... and to protect those without his gift... but he changed his tactic and moved the winds to cover the side of camp he and the other non combatants were in...and then finally let its force disapate.. to a calm wind.. He grew tired from his spell casting and sagged a bit from the exertion.. hoping that he had made the right choice.
Silk's shredding sands swept to one side and faded away. The impediment gone, the figures' shuffle increased to a rolling shamble, arms now outstretched and howling in a dry moan that resembled nothing as much as a sandstorm.
Amir Jameel charged the enemy flank from behind, his mighty sword crashing down on dried flesh and brittle bone. Malikeea came about as quick as any camel could and Amir Jameel urged it forward to strike again.
As Mamoun hastened into the tent, Waleed grabbed a sizzling kabob from the fire and muttering a quick spell sent the aromatic missile flying at the approaching figures. In a great arc it flew, finding its target in the chest of the nearest figure.
Keesha finished her spell and three of the figures suddenly stiffened and fell, unmoving.
Ahmar loosed two flaming arrows in rapid succession, striking the two figures on the far right; they continued forward, ignoring the burning arrows in their chests.
Amir Jameel charged forward, sword raised. Two of the men, turned to him with sunken crimson eyes, hands grasping. He felt a sudden deep thirst and his waterbag which had been slapping against his leg, withered to a dry leather husk.

[Gamemaster]

Waleed picked up another flaming kabob and sent it flying as he had the first one.
"Will nothing in this cursed journey die as it should?" Ahmar roars as he shoulders his bow and rips his scimitars from their scabbards.
Silk draws his weapon, thinking just how foolish he was.. for dropping his winds wall... and uses the moment to gather his depleted strength. " Come monster.. he shouts... now I am not defenseless". And so he waits .. each moment he can hold out he grows a bit stronger... perhaps that and his anger will be enough. He prayed to the spirit of the land and winds.. that they all could be enough.
Ya'qub watches horrified at the approach of the desiccated figures. When he sees them reach for Amir Jameel's water flask, he remembered a lesson the desert dove Sahra taught him.
"They thirtht!" He shouts, heedless that his nervous speech impediment had encroached.
"With all thethe thorthererth, can thomeone conjur thomething like a water thpirit?"
“A water spirit??! In the desert?! Who do you think we are?“ Keesha exclaimed.
With that she focusses again on her spell, glad on the success of the previous attempt and looks forward.
"Even in the drietht dethert there ith alwayth *thome* water! Where do you think the oatheth cometh from?"
Despairing of ever making anyone understand what he means, Ya'qub looks around his tent for something that could aid in the fight, even briefly reconsidering his necklace with strange runes inscribed upon them.
"Die you cursed dead!" Amir yells as he wheels Malikeea to cleave another enemy asunder.
"Ya Ahmar, I see you know how to use those swords after all!" he states. "And where is all this magic coming from? Do we have a Djinn amongst us? Hyaa Malikeea, we'll send these back wher they belong!"
Keesha laughs at Amir remarks."Stop the jokes and chop them while they are quiet!.. I am not sure how long they will stay like that"
Having let loose with his flaming kabob of death, Waleed drew out the roughly made scimitar left behind by his former hosts and readied himself for the confrontation.
He was going to ask Ahmar why he stopped shooting, but thought best not too.
As Ya'qub scrounges about, wracking his brain to find *something* that could be useful, he suddenly stops and smacks his forehead. "Of courthe! Nathim!" Immediately, he hurries out to his trusty camel Nasim, and speaks softly, but urgently to him. "Nathim, we mutht find water! Thethe creatureth thirtht, and we mutht give them thomething to thatithfy them, or we will all be lotht!"
Ahmar leapt on his stallion and charged the enemy.
Fighting a thirst that rivaled any he'd ever known, Amir Jameel swung his kopesh, striking one of the crimson-eyed men a blow that would have felled a camel. Then he cried out in pain as jagged, bony fingers grasped his leg. Two of the nightmares clung to him and his camel Malikeea, their weight threatening to pull Amir Jameel from his saddle. Amir hammered his prommel into the leering face of one attacker as it scurried up him, but fell to the ground with a grunt of pain, momentarily blinded by a flash of pain - his breath knocked out of him.
As Silk stood ready with his weapon, recovering from casting his spell, Ya'qub whistled for Nasim. The caravan leader's camel obediently trotted up.

[Gamemaster]

Waleed, pleased with the success of his attack, grasped another lamb kabob from the fire. This one flamed and sizzled almost beyond edibility. With a word of magic he hurled the hors d'oeuvre at his approaching enemy. Perhaps it was the plump onion, perhaps the extra generous bit of lamb, fate only knows, but the missile tumbled rather than flew, falling harmlessly before its target.
Keesha cast another spell and two more figures suddenly stiffened and fell, unmoving. She risked a glance at Ya'qub, considering his idea of summoning a water spirit. She saw the merchant talking animatedily at his camel. At Ya'qub's request to seek out water, the camel craned its neck and nudged the waterbag hanging from Ya'qub's tent post. It then stared enigmatically at its master, chewing its cud.
Bony knees, elbows, fingers and a moan that you'd hear escaping from a well long dry, pressed down on Amir Jameel as he lay on his back in the desert sand. He swung wildly at his attacker, fate and luck guiding his blow, the crimson-eyed dead man collapsed in a clatter of bones and robes.
Amir Jameel quickly got to his feet. He saw Ahmar leap from his stallion and begin hacking into the creatures as they strained against their magical bonds. With a cry of triumph he raised his kopesh and ran to join him.
The two of them quickly sent the restless spirits on to whatever world awaited them, the malevolent light fading forever from the seven wanderers sunken dry faces.
"Let us burn them," Ahmar says, panting to Amir Jameel. "And make certain they will never hinder another traveler again."
Ya’qub stared at his camel. "Ah, Nathim! Sometimes I wonder what on goeth behind thothe big, liquid eyeth! You did exactly what I athked, but I could have uthed a little more than that." Ya'qub shakes his head, his nerves slowly returning to normal. "Were you not so faithful a camel and friend, I fear what I should do..."
Waleed strode forth and wrinkled his nose as he poked one of the zombies with the point of his sword, making sure it was dead.
Then after he was assured, he began to inspect them carefully, but was mindful not to touch them with his bare hands. "I wonder what makes them live on. Maybe a curse, maybe some receptacle on them, interesting, very interesting indeed."