session 29

Life Is a Highway¶

Fully rested, we mounted our steeders and followed the passages indicated by Akta Ak’haan. Before long, we reached the threshold of a cavern, much larger than any we had traversed before. At its center, a vast expanse of compacted sand and smooth stone stretched beyond our view. This was the storied Zath Khaar, the desert highway.

We encountered a group of refugees along the Zath Khaar, weary travelers displaced by the chaos we had inadvertently sown at the Shatha scale. Our interactions were somber, yet we aided them as best we could, guiding them towards a safer scale.

As the day grew long, we searched for a place to rest. Instead, we stumbled upon Kess, a well-dressed, smooth-talking lizard person who demanded our valuables. His demeanor and intent were clear: a brigand with a taste for shinies. His companions, a formidable group of Sil, stood ready to enforce his demands.

Combat erupted swiftly. Gloopwing’s psi warrior prowess sent Kess hurtling against a cavern wall, a startling and impressive display. The Sil, fierce and resilient, took advantage of their surroundings: lithe bodies capable of burrowing through the sand, and eyes glinting with a predatory cunning. Their regeneration made them formidable, but we were ready.

The battle began with a web spell from our artificer, entangling most of the Sil in sticky strands. Gwen followed up with a slow spell, further debilitating our foes. Despite their regeneration, the Sil found themselves outmaneuvered. Flames roared as Gwen unleashed a fireball, scorching the tangled Sil. Ryalith and Stigs engaged those who broke free, their strikes precise and deadly.

Kess, armed with a dangerous wheelock pistol, never got the chance to use it. With fierce determination, we brought him and two of his companions down. The remaining Sil, witnessing their leader’s demise, fled into the darkness.

Among the spoils, we took Kess’s double-barreled wheelock pistol for ourselves (or rather, for Stigs) and a collection of gems and trinkets. These treasures were a small consolation for the blood shed in the encounter.

As we resumed our journey, the desert highway stretched ahead, leading us closer to the Krazak Thar, the “scar of the desert.” We had learned from both the refugees and from Kess himself that the scar hid a mysterious structure – a “temple” to the god Hodos, or Er – they seemed to be indicated interchangebly. This itself was a mystery to us, since Hodos and Er seemed to be gods of different religions. We were two days ride from the scar, and tomorrow would be coming soon.