The Missing Wagon

Shortly after I arrived in Altaruk and was considering where to go next,I heard rumor that a man named Rhotan Vor was offering gold to anyone who would help recover a missing wagon. My travels to Altaruk with the textiles caravan were uneventful and really rather boring, days spent on the road with nothing to distinguish one day from the last. The only reason I'm going without the comforts of home is for some adventure, and so far I have found none. Perhaps finding this missing wagon will provide me something to do and allow me to use my psionic abilities in new ways.

I answered Rhotan Vor's call and met the handful of others that were interested as well; most were more used to the adventuring lifestyle and battle than I, but I think I can prove myself more than a pretty face. Marok, a deaf mul, was the first I met; he seems nice enough when I communicate with him telepathically, and has a fearsome look about him, like he is confident in his skills in battle. Raina, a woman nearly as beautiful as me if not for her scars and sun-darkened skin, has a wicked-looking gouge that I feel she probably knows how to use to brutal effect. Brandis, the friendly shaman, looks kind enough, but he is a tad awkward and not the most charismatic sort. Perhaps he is a little shy, but shy is always better than arrogant like the fool Khadar. I suspect Khadar may be a sorcerer wielding forbidden arcane magics, and I hope he doesn't defile our already tormented land any further.

We introduced ourselves briefly and quickly got to work, travelling until we found the wagon tracks indicating where the wagon had gone astray. Following the obvious tracks of a heavily laden wagon, we were suddenly set upon by vicious creatures I'm told are silt runners when caught between two large rocks. I watched as they brutally attacked Raina and Murok--and I'm glad they attacked them instead of me! I see now why their skin is so scarred, if they're used to surviving such violence. Once we got over our surprise we made them pay for their vicious attacks; while the creatures were capable of astounding brutality, they were fairly delicate creatures and we were able to not only survive their onslaught but defeat them. I myself killed a few of them, using my psionic powers for violence for the first time. While I admit the feeling of power was somewhat heady, it was also frightening. Instead of controlling my powers to precisely manipulate someone (willingly or unwillingly) without harming them, it is something quite different to destroy someone mentally. The ugly battle left me somewhat shaken and unsettled; I am not used to seeing bloodshed, and needed to sit down and get my wits about me before I could continue on. Perhaps they judged me for it, but can I be blamed for needing a moment to recover after the first time I extinguished the life of something other than an insect or a scorpion scuttling under my feet?

Once I had recovered from proving myself a pampered spoiled noble, we continued to follow the wagon's tracks, cautiously watching for further attacks, until at last we saw the rogue wagon. It appeared at a glance to be in working condition, but I am no expert on wagons. The only worrying factor was the presence of reptilian creatures poking through the supplies in and around the wagon. Khadar immediately suggested we attack them outright, but I hesitated. What if they were innocent creatures, or potentially friendly ones who had stumbled upon the wagon? The silt runners before had attacked *us* outright and I had no lasting qualms about killing them; but what if these creatures were just innocent scavengers and we killed them for being in our way? Athas is a harsh place, and it's not surprising that any creature would scavenge through an abandoned wagon for food--is that a crime worth killing for? I tried to communicate with them, unsure if they would be able to understand me or not, much to Khadar's derision and mockery. They were not intelligent or kind, innocent creatures--instead they turned to me and made to attack us, and so we fought once more. Everyone laughed at me for trying to make friends with them, and Khadar made especially rude comments, but I will not be ashamed for taking caution not to kill undeserving creatures. I would think that as a shaman Brandis would also seek to avoid unnecessary killing, but he is most likely more wise than I on what creatures need to be killed and now thinks me an idiot for not recognizing the bloodthirsty kruthik. What does a courtesan raised in the bosom of Tyr know of kruthik?

Though we did manage to kill them, Khadar struggled mightily for control over his wild arcane magic. What is wrong with this sorceror? Did he never receive proper training? I get the impression he may have been a templar previously (he's definitely arrogant and rude enough to be a templar!), though I'm not quite sure. Perhaps he was removed from his position for being unable to control his magic properly? Being randomly buffeted about by explosions of wild arcane power quickly becomes quite aggravating and mightily distracting, and I was tempted to hit him over the head with his own staff. Once he got himself under control we were able to defeat the kruthiks.

We had recovered the wagon and all of the supplies inside, and I opened a jug of wine to enjoy while we rested after our fight and pondered where to go next. The tracks leading away from the wagon indicated webbed feet according to our resident shaman, which may mean more silt runners were in our future. They seemed to head towards a nearby ruined tower, so we decided to investigate their likely source of shelter.

As soon as we opened the door and all entered the tower, we were set upon by another reptilian creature and more silt runners, one of whom immediately assaulted the lot of us with some kind of vicious magical or psionic attack. As much as I dislike him, I will admit to being worried at how much it hurt Khadar; he was nearly knocked off his feet by the brutal attack, and it was clear he was grievously wounded. By some dumb luck, I was the only one of our party not hit. We managed to overpower the creatures and free the caravan drivers who were tied up in the corner, though it took us longer than it should have as we all attacked different creatures and didn't bother with much proper teamwork. I was astounded to see Raina brutally cut down one of the reptilian creatures when it tried to turn and run from her wrath--I will definitely not be getting into any fights with her, over anything. Ever! I value my life too much to try my luck on the other side of that wicked gouge.

In the end, we were able to recover the wagon, most of the goods, the driver and even some extra gold and a fire opal for us to keep, though we had to push and pull the wagon back to Altaruk by hand. Doing manual labor is not my strong suit and I nearly refused, but there was no way they were going to let me sit in the wagon while they pushed it (even kind Brandis looked liable to send his spirit companion after me if I tried!) and so I reluctantly helped. Rhotan Vor was grateful that we had recovered his goods, though the pack animals were nowhere to be found, and rewarded us as promised, and we retired to rejoice and spend our hard-won gold on drink & food at the nearest inn.

Though Khadar is insufferable, Raina scares me, Murok is a silent menace and Brandis clearly wishes he could afford my asking price, the shared experience has forged some kind of odd brothers-in-arms bond. Though our motley group spends more time arguing and bickering over small decisions than anything else, perhaps it would not be so bad to find further work with them. My brief life as a caravan guard did not provide the kind of excitement that I left Tyr to find, but today's events did. Athas is too dangerous a place for me to run about killing silt runners alone; perhaps I will see if there's more work for us to do around Altaruk, or who else might need to hire some help. We will see what the future brings; for now, my tired self is going to enjoy what little comfort can be found in this very provincial inn.