Farah'deen
- Cadwyn, Carmen, Maiyusa, Wilvamair and TraorƩ travel to Farahdeen with the intent to track down the Maalthar. Using TraorƩ as a translator, the group is eventually pointed to a specific patch of desert though large it is, with many cliffs and winding chasms. The group attempts to use the eagles provided by Wilvamair to travel high above ground, however TraorƩ indicates that this is probably not a good idea, since they didn't exactly get legal permission to do on this expedition from the government, and the aerial patrols might see this as a provocation in their airspace, coupled with the fact that the region they are going into has a lot of cliff overhang, and as such aerial scouting would cause them to miss a lot of space underneath these overhanging rocks.
- The group continues thus on foot, entering the Massarat chasms, a massive set of dried up underground riverbeds that cracked open and became half filled with sand. Passing by the entrance, the group witnesses a massive broken down Clockwork digging machine. The back part of the machine, presumably its legs were stuck in the ground, long sand blasted to nothing. Its right arm was detached and on the floor, but its left arm was still digging, the whole machine moving up every minute or so to make a very slow dragging motion with its arm against the stone wall, its fingers having completely eroded and just being a stump left that it kept digging into the sandstone wall with, where it seemed obvious this machine had been digging for a really really long time, but also with no clear purpose, because it just deposited the dug rocks and sand behind itself, which would inevitably slide back into the digging hole it had made, thus creating a never ending loop. TraorƩ commented that these kind of machines were not unusual, not all Sariyd machines perished during the Great Storm, some of them just kept on doing their work, even if their masters had long since perished as they could go on forever, cycling Soul Essence from the Rivers. TraorƩ climbed on the back of the machine and with one quick punch into the backplate's corroded control panels, he ripped out a piece of gearwork, causing the light in the machine's eyes to fade, and its arm to collapse, eventually telling them to move on.
- In a long winding chasm, the wind howled from one direction to the other, like a wind funnel. The others were seemingly distracted, Maiyusa looking at some of the cliffside dwellings that were built high up an incline, covered by the shade of the overhang. Her curiosity was directly opposed to TraorƩ alertness however, for he knew what those dwellings meant. The Rishiq had made their homes in the hidden hard to reach places of the desert for hundreds of years, often using old work camp dwellings made by the Sariyd and long abandoned and left to decay. Urging caution, his concerns were proven right when the wind was temporarily interrupted by a single shrill bird-cry, the human voice mimicking the mating call of the Qasrat vulture. TraorƩ immediately shouted to cover, with a projectile only barely brazing Carmen's cheek as small puffs of smoke erupted from the cliffsides above, loud gunpowder shots echoing through the cliffs sides. High above the group could only just barely make out the Rishiqs, more than TraorƩ had ever even seen, bound in ragged cloth and with sun parched and darkened skin from living in the desert for decades. They had long gunpowder rifles, equally bound in ragged cloths. Some were crouched against the cliffsides, others were sitting on their Clockwork hovering boards, taking potshots at the group below hiding by an outcrop of stone. Wilvamair unfurled his wings with intent to strike, but TraorƩ told him to back down, remarking that "if they wanted to kill us we would already be dead, they are just playing with us". Indeed, when adrenaline no longer took hold, Cadwyn could confirm that they were just casually talking with one another and even cackling when a shot ricocheted off a rock near Carmen and covered her in splinter sandstone and sand. The Rishiq weren't shooting to kill, they were shooting to practice with their new weapons which Maiyusa reasoned had been stolen from Regalia some time ago while the Muskete still hadn't reached the common market. The Rishiq's suddenly all jumped up on their hoverpads after a series of yells from above the cliffsides, speeding off along the cliffside, only to be followed by a large Masaya patrol vessel that shot Ordial green fire down at them, they returning fire with their rifles while speeding away from it. The group waited until the gunpowder eruptions no longer echoed through the tunnels before they moved on.
- The group traveled for days, witnessing more fallen Clockwork giants half-buried in the sand, and distant Ordial Mage patrols during the night, with green lights dancing on the horizon. TraorƩ created a Shambala circle around the camp each time, remarking that his people had always done this to ward off the Sadeir. Indeed, during one night, sand wraiths approached the camp, and just as they seemed to breach beyond the circle TraorƩ had drawn in the sand, the circle lit up simultaneously as TraorƩ's Tawhroon did, and the Sadeir were stopped as if smashed into a solid wall, shrieking that they could not cross the line. The group held their weapons out and stood back to back until the sun rose, and the Sadeir's whirling sand bodies collapsed at the touch of sunlight.
- The group eventually was unable to find the Maalthar. The Maalthar seemed very much in their element, and did not want to be found, and so searching the desert for a group of people who would actively avoid being found, proved too difficult without clearer directions, or the Maalthar wanting to speak.
- Farah'deen cool. But don't expect all expedition writing to be this long.
An Aelriggan Knight stood on a dusty precipice overlooking the network of canyons and cliffs that wound through Farahdeen. Late afternoon meant time to make camp. And time to smoke. A gust of wind from two giant silver wings rewarded his efforts to light the sigg, and he repeated the process all over again.
"You want some?" he commented sardonically over his shoulder to the creature, turning his head to face it. Though it was a magical bird, it behaved like any other, enjoying the wind in its feathers, and cocking its head to the side in silent question. And mild lack of amusement.
"Didn't think so. It's not my fault you didn't get to fly, if that is what you are angry about. Miscommunication about the terrain." he replied to the silence of the bird, as if it would reply. He doubted it was that magical, and blew out a long breath of the smoke. The eagle continued to stare, giant black eye unimpressed with his explanation.
"The silent treatment? From you? That's cold, Bird." he mused, half to himself, as he flicked the sigg over the ledge and turned back to the campsite. The bird of prey watched it tumble from the cliffside, before releasing what Wilvamair could have sworn was an irritated huff, shaking out its wings and drifting off into a Faraddi sunset, fading into the air with silver wisps.
"I think I am going to need to name that eagle something that isn't 'Bird'. Any ideas?" he asked the grouping in front of him.
@OkaDoka @falcvns @DolittleGuy @HeyItzAPotato
