The Long, Hard Fall

Perception + 12

The member 'Tulkavoa're' has done the following action : Die rolls

'd20' : 13

Everyone can see that the column of dust is being created by a large group of people heading toward you. There are wagons and horses and most of the people look human, though there are a few minotaur and elves mixed in.

"Nomads." Rickers mutters. "I've had a little dealing with them. They're peaceful but I'll always prefer city dwellers."

Mambele, who despite his rich boy upbringing is a nomad on both sides of his family, grins at Ricker and raises an eyebrow. Looking over at the approaching caravan, he scans the crowd for any ladies to entertain his eyes with.

Tiagarth figures that the caravan will take a while to get to where they are and melts into his lion form and lays down in the back of the cart

Tulka stares somewhat blankly at the people approaching them, studying them without emotion. Her hidden orb glows slightly as her mind reaches inside and fondles it.

Fang lies back in the wagon with his arms behind his head, his eyes rested shut as he just doesn't seem to care about the nomads at this time.

Ricker pulls the cart off to the side as the host approaches. The head of the caravan, a dark skinned man in rough animal hides, halts the column and approaches you. One hand is resting behind his seat, probably on a weapon. His deep voice booms out in an unfamiliar language. Surprisingly, Ricker answers in the same language. Their conversation continues for some time and the dark skinned man seems to be put at ease. With half a bow, he motions for his companions to continue and they begin to pass.

Fang sits up, the strange language having gotten his attention. "What was that all about?", he asked as his gaze turned to Ricker.

ooc I'd like to roll for insight before posing to see if Mambele noticed anything about the interaction.

+4 Insight.

The member 'Mambele' has done the following action : Die rolls

'd20' : 2

Tulka would also like to roll insight, to see if this is a friendly interaction, a warning, etc

+9 insight

The member 'Tulkavoa're' has done the following action : Die rolls

'd20' : 20

ooc Showoff! ;P

Mambele:

You can't really decode what the strange conversation was about.

---

Tulkavoa're:

Check your PMs.

---

Ricker turns to Fang. "Just a friendly conversation. We're going to let them pass before we continue on."

The wilden couldn't understand the conversation, but the ability to read body language is not beyond her. Her orb ceases its defensive glow as the conversation seems to go well, however she tilts her head at the end. "What makes Ricker mood change?"

Mambele flares his nostrils in annoyance as he fails to pick up anything useful from his analysis. "Can't say I know, Miss Tulka. But, you know, a change in mood might be welcome at this point." he says, subtly leaning his eyes towards the still-antisocial Menzo.

"I heard that, elf boy."

Ricker seems as if he was startled from his thoughts. "Oh, Miss Tulka. Well, he warned me about 'living corpses'. Seems like we may have to be wary of the undead after all. Nomads are not ones for exaggeration or telling tales. Be on your guard, everyone."

The half-elf flashes a cocky smile at Menzo before looking at Ricker again. "Undead, eh? I don't suppose these guys have a cleric they could spare?" Hopefully cute and female, with a knack for tantric healing spells, he adds mentally.

"Look at 'em, son. They're struggling as it is." He watches the host of people, most of whom seem to be carrying little except the clothes they wear. "Something happened to 'em. And I think we all know what." His face goes blank. "And we can't do a damn thing for them."

The last of the nomads pass and Ricker once again pulls the cart forward. Even Menzo is silent, for which everyone is grateful.

You travel a few more days along the road. You can see signs of the nomad's passing but no other travelers appear. On the fourth day after the nomads, Ricker pulls the cart over.

"I need to stretch my legs, folks. Maybe take care of something private." He walks into the bushes on the side of the road.

"Further back. I'd rather not watch that." Menzo still has not returned to his normal self, a fact that his current personality enjoys a little too much.

Ricker glares at him but heads further away behind a tree.

Tulkavoa're steps down from the wagon and approaches the horses, rubbing their muzzles in turn as she digs her toe roots into the dirt. She smiles and hums.

Mambele keeps busy studying his astrology book for any mention about dealing with the undead, but his book is largely silent about it. Not surprisingly, since it was mostly written by people who were alive and wondering how the heavens affected them, while those who actively pursue undeath are usually too egocentric and power-hungry to appreciate outside influences over them. He makes a vow that he will pursue this line of study himself later.

Of course, maybe he'll get a chance to study that up close and personal very soon. He shudders.

While they are stopped, Fang hops out of the cart, scythe in hands and moves a few feet from the cart. He had decided he had lounged around enough and wanted to practice a few techniques, for fear that lazing about in a cart for too long would dull his fighting abilities. He made certain to keep a safe distance from his crew, but not too far as to cause them to lose sight of him.