Forum > Play by Post Games

IC: Talislanta Sword & Planet Disco Fantasia!

<< < (2/16) > >>

3rd day, 2 week, 4th month
Near Prime Sun Noon, (Second Sun Horizonal)

BGM Boomerang -- "Na Zapadu Nista Novo"

Edge of The Barrens, Nearing Akmir

Salt Racer Catamaran

The home stretch under a blistering heat. Akmir rises fron the flat plane as a dusky dot, a blot, upon the near formless expanse that was beginning to wear on one's sanity. In agonizing time the dot oblates and then becomes recognizable as dot clusters... you have some time before reaching the Akbir Depot. Time to just be before dropping off passengers & cargo, grabbing supplies, recruiting new crew, to be beyond the usual bustling madness of tedious maintenance.

The stories of "The Magical West" got stale the first few days in the first voyages of the first year; they are insipid now. Soft, safe, self-absorbed... almost bloodless in their lack of vitality. At least there is a rush of lust, of violence, with these Wilderlands. Just pushing through this heat at these many clicks a minute is enough to leave these passengers quieted, let alone terrors of bandits racing to intercept you, or nightmares of marauding devils screaming in the night.

Time to replace lost crew friends and drop off wealthy dead-weight...

Rumor: Apparently a Bandit Gang, 'Screamers to the Purple Sun', is teetering upon collapse somewhere in the Western Barrens. Maybe another boat can be stolen for the flotilla.

Rumor: The Salt Devils are said to have some of the sweetest soul music. The permorming imps nod, but shiver at the thought, demons often being food for rampaging devils.



Akbir Depot (The Barrens Arrival/Departure Hangar)

Only three of the seven wind engines along the wall's edge near the shady hangar's ceiling are working, and as lazily as the exhausted beings within. Stillness in this twilight offers meager relief as the bustle of caravans outside disturbs the edge of haziness like mourners at a sepulture. A timelessness soaks the mind in stupor where just sauntering is an excess.

Even the festooned luggage dancers listlessly plod along raised oval tracks, more bleating than cooing their luggage's desire to be retrieved by their owners:
"Am I yours?"
"Take me away with you."
"How can you leave without me?"
And when owners retrieve their luggage from these dancers the exchange carries the finality of a burden.

A bar reeking of medjool pickling rum holds melted patrons draping over pillows and saddle-seats, reminiscent of the bar's snack shelf of vaguely placeable meat pickles. Rajan tabac in the hookas is recognized more by the lingering smoke skulls and misshapen faces undispersed by the quiescent air than its musky sulfured spice.

The chattel staffing agency is offering Zaran prisoners as battle-chum at fire sale prices.

Karfan Departures has a few strangely dressed Westerners wearing more than a few stylish Wilderland souvenirs. Maybe they made out well and have info to share?

Rumor: City of Muruk has new curse-breakers (idiots) requesting a topaz boulder from the Topaz Mts. Apparently more than a few boulders passed through Akmir onto The Barrens in the past year.

Rumor: Eastern Borderlands hills has a hidden Mongrelmen hamlet ripe for the picking. Some arenas and wizards are offerering double the typical chattel price.

OK, chat, bond, poke around at people, places, & things! Tomorrow Sunday assume you all met together and from there decide how to work together and where next to go. :cool:

Helios loves a good deal. Fire sale on Zaran battle chum? Who can resist? War slaves, especially when charmed and motivated, are far better than learning how to actually fight. At least, that's what mother always said.

Helios makes his through the way the sulfur smoke to discuss prices with the chattel agents. However, he's never had medjool pickling rum so perhaps there will be a detour to the bar if the smell becomes more nectar-ish upon approach.

Although not a merchant, Helios has faith (or is it overconfidence) in his potent trifecta of brains, perception and charisma.


Ghandus visits any nearby taverns, and enjoys some cold drinks. Ghandus invites newly found companions to enjoy a cold drink and have a look around Akbir. Ghandus also inquires about the prices for Zandar slaves. In addition, while at the tavern, Ghandus asks other patrons about the rumours concerning the Mongrelmen.

At the Chattel Staffing Agency you hear these Zaran prisoners are willful and don't take direction, but they fight as if rabid and scream most pleasingly as they die. A lumen a soul and don't bother with feeding them plant-food rations; they won't eat it.

(OOC: The catamaran could use at least 3 ablative warriors, though you can easily cram up to 20 if you are interested in pirating and don't mind a little starvation keeping them hungry for plunder. Catamaran minimum crew is 2, max 25; Cargo is 10 tons. Food & water does add up and slow you down. ... Long story short math is hard and I have fond memories of playing "Uncharted Waters" by KOEI. :p)

There is a general surliness among these Zaran chattel applicants. They also look malnourished and several have a similar scar pattern on their left upper arm. Probably a Zaran-on-Zaran feud sold these associated losers upon victory.

Ooh, there is a Zaran female dressed in dancer robes being tucked away in the back! :eek: Doesn't seem to be part of the fire sale though... :(


[0] Message Index

[#] Next page

[*] Previous page

Go to full version