ROLEPLAY

2620, summer of third AC

Here we are, we leave tomorrow. So much has happened here I forgot this journal.
To summarize very quickly... in case I'll lose my memory.
Arrived at the Outpost. They grabbed our meat, we crashed there for a few nights wondering what we could do, then we got hired at the inn as cooks. We started stashing meat to prepare for the rest of our journey. They noticed. Ostini, the chief of the guards, jumped on us. Azazor had the brilliant idea to tell him that we were trading the meat with the Akatorums for poison. Then I had to show my poison to that bastard Ostini,. A Matis. Of course, he immediately saw that this poison did not come from the Akatowhatevers... Then, the Trykeri we thought was merely the tavern keeper turned out to be the leader of the local clan. She made us spill the beans, but was relatively understanding. Which goes to show the Marauders here are not like the ones back home. Here, one can talk with them.

As a result, we agreed to make a delivery for her, as payment for our mistakes. Well, our actions, not our mistakes. They were kind enough not to throw us over the cliff, or anything else. At the time, the situation was pretty exciting, I didn't realize until later we were really gambling our lives.
The good thing is that O'Teelo is ready to provide us with equipment for this job. Marauder's armors, local. Just what we need to hope to get to the Citadel a little more unnoticed than with our naked Fyros dazed faces. She gave us a map, the way to follow seems simple, at first sight. First, go along the cliff to the south, to find the delivery point. Then, there, we are supposed to meet other Marauders. They will be able to tell us more about the dangers that await us if we decide to follow the big mountain range that leads to Sentinel. It's either that or turn around, find the Outpost and go back to the Rangers's path.
And this is the less good thing: whatever we choose, we will be compelled to make a detour of several weeks, maybe several months…

What we have to deliver? I've never seen anything like it. O'Teelo brought us a small box, and opened it in front of us. She knew our curiosity would have led us to open it anyway. She carefully took out three objects, with slightly greenish edges, decorated on one side with strange, shiny inscriptions. Lines, in all directions, dots. Up close, I noticed that they were engraved patterns, not merely drawn. The dots are tiny picots, inlaid. On the other side, how to describe… a multitude of ornaments, small objects, clumped together. Like pieces of jewels of different colors, connected by small shiny threads. Rectangles, circles. At first sight something chaotic, and yet revealing an incredible organization, each element seeming to find its place. As if it were a miniature city.

O'Teelo quickly wrapped them in fiber cloths, to wedge them into the box, recommending that we not open it. Not too often, anyway. She thinks the wind and sawdust of the desert might damage them. We promised to take care of them. I then asked: this is Karavan, isn't it?
The Trykeri then looked at me with a distressed look: "No, it has been laid by a lumper". Azazor didn't waste an opportunity to make fun of me, before taking the box and waving us to follow her to the stable. I would have liked to ask her a lot more questions, but my first one having been totally stupid, I didn't dare to add any more. Really, sometimes I'd better keep my mouth shut.

She took out armors for us. Color of desert sawdust, gleaming. One for Azazor, one for me. Already worn, obviously, but incredibly well made. We had negotiated those. Well… Azazor managed to negotiate. He bluffed me on that one. Oh yes, I forgot: before that, we had to go and get the famous meat stock. We felt like two idiots anyway, even if we were relieved of the outcome of all that. In the end, we even understood that they were going to miss us in kitchen.

I must write this, too: I have to admit that I was wrong. We were all wrong. The Marauders here have nothing to do with what we had expected. Akilia is only a clan leader among others, and all do not recognize her authority, nor her fight, nor her ideals. Far from it. The war she leads is not the war of the Marauders of the Old Lands.
Barmie knew that, no doubt. I can't remember if he told us, but we were probably too sure of ourselves, of our knowledge, we wouldn't have believed him anyway. What ? Marauders who don't pull out their sledgehammers to solve any problems, who know listening, and who are more concerned with containing the kitin threat than with the tomfooleries of our New Lands empires. Almost like Rangers, in fact. You'd think they'd be the same. We've only run into a few Rangers so far.

We go from surprise to surprise. Barmie had warned us about desert frahars. They are mostly Fraiders! I keep the axe that I hold from those of the New Lands on my belt, but unfortunately I did not have time to create a bond of trust with any of them. We'll probably run into more of them in the desert. I need to know more about them.

Oh, and Azazor decided to send all his notes to Pyr. I think that's silly, he's more likely to have them stolen or the carrier to be eaten by whatever bug is on the way. I told him to make a copy. No time for that, he says. Well, that reminds me, the letters I sent when we were in Fort Beacon may have arrived. I hope they are all well, over there.

To sum up… Actually, no, there's not much to sum up. We are just to get back on the road.
Yes, there is something. I must add… and confess: I would so much like to spend more time with the homins here, to discover their richness and knowledge, to understand them better. To come back one day to the New Lands with their message. But come on, this is not the time to stop, we are so close to our goal. A new desert awaits us.