Takane had met many nomads in her day; Grandfather had taken several in for brief stretches over the years. As she followed the others towards the gathering at the bridge, her gaze was drawn primarily to the vast, felled tree.

With its heavy gravity and unpredictable weather, her homeworld (or at least the one she now called home) could not imagine a tree so gigantic.

"Incredible..." the warrior mused as they approached.

The nomadic people seem relatively friendly as the group approaches, nodding, waving and smiling upon approach, though they remain busy with their own work. It is a mixed group, Ithorians and Gran seemingly being dominant, though they share a similar clothing style consisting of warm-looking robes made of colorful fabrics. Their caravan is built of numerous types of vehicles, from old, beaten speeder trucks and cargo skiffs to rumbling groundcars and gravsleds tethered to teams of large, flightless birds; there are even a few archaic wheeled carts being pulled by the same birds.

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Feel free to snoop around a bit.

As Chadrik got close to the caravan, he could smell the scintillating smell of old grease and broken-down machinery. It made for a peculiar mixture when combined with the smell of salt from the sea. His mood began to brighten as he wandered among the people and as he smelled the oil of the various carts. As he walks past a broken-down speeder, he almost runs into one of the nomads. "Oh, uh, excuse me. Sorry about that," he said as he steadies himself. "Are you part of this caravan? I must say, some of those old vehicles look pretty good for how old they seem to be. Never underestimate a wanderer," he smiles a bit hoping that his attempts at conversation would be taken nicely. "Where are you headed?"

Zik approaches one of the oldest-looking Ithorians and bows. "Greetings, traveler! My companions and I are headed in the same direction. Perhaps we can trade tales to make the journey easier." He waits for a nod, then continues: "We came across a temple back past Gilgal. The runes on it were Ithorian, if I'm not mistaken, or something close, like Ottegan. Do you know anything about any such religious sects around here?"

As Bralane approaches the caravan she can't help but betray a slight smile, memories of home creep into her head.

"Way out here, even in the further reaches of the wilderness, and yet the sights, smells, and sounds of home can be heard."

Bralane closes her eyes and lets the ocean breeze waft over her, now pungent with the smells (good and bad) of civilization. The discordant sounds of myriad alien voices mixed with braying animals and badly tuned repulsorlift engines assaulted her senses, but Bralane simply took it all in, smiling despite herself.

"Just like home, if only for a little while."

Kamoa walks alongside Shisa as they mingle. He smiles at the people and makes small talk with them. He turns to Shisa and asks. "Perhaps these people have seen anyone else from your temple?" He suggests, gesturing around. "Maybe we can ask around and get lucky?" He purchases a few bits of food from one of the members of the caravan for a few credits, and hands over a bit of it to Shisa and Phoon as they walk around.

Kamoa's asking around offers no useful information on Shisa's temple. A few were familiar with the temple, but not with any recent events, and no one said they knew anything.

The Ithorian's that Zik approached are elderly, and they speak with an accented, unusual dialect of Ithorese, but it's not impossible to parse. The story is simplistically practical: when Garuu first was colonized by the Ithorians, there was already a mix of different species on the planet. Their society combined with the societies of others, and the Ithorians, along with the Ottegans and others, all contributed to the rise priesthood that built the temples. However, the Ithorians themselves know very few of the teachings of the temple itself.

Chadrik's discussion with the nomad with the broken speeder goes well enough, though the somewhat jittery nomad drops a spanner on Chadrik's foot.

"We're crossing the great bridge in the morn'," the nomad informs, "heading into Yaht Gurghan territory. Looking to trade some product we picked up from the coastal regions. You wanderers looking to cross as well?"

On 10/8/2017 at 4:50 PM, Blackbird888 said:

Chadrik's discussion with the nomad with the broken speeder goes well enough, though the somewhat jittery nomad drops a spanner on Chadrik's foot.

"We're crossing the great bridge in the morn'," the nomad informs, "heading into Yaht Gurghan territory. Looking to trade some product we picked up from the coastal regions. You wanderers looking to cross as well?"

Chadrik nodded while rubbing his foot. He winced as he puts weight on it. "Yeah, we are headed to the temple on the far side of Yaht Gurghan. Although there seems to be some nasty business going on in relation to the temples." He frowned slightly upon wondering if he should be this forthcoming. "Not that I care. It's just a waypoint where I'm to meet an acquaintance."

8 hours ago, SebastianArrow said:

Chadrik nodded while rubbing his foot. He winced as he puts weight on it. "Yeah, we are headed to the temple on the far side of Yaht Gurghan. Although there seems to be some nasty business going on in relation to the temples." He frowned slightly upon wondering if he should be this forthcoming. "Not that I care. It's just a waypoint where I'm to meet an acquaintance."

"We visited one of those temples in the east not long ago, but I'm not aware of any troubles," the nomad says, "either way, if you're lookin' to cross, we leave on the morrow, so you're welcome to join us--actually, I take that back. It's not my place to invite you, so you should speak to Oohn Aahn, the senior elder. There shouldn't be a problem with you joinin', o' course, but it's proper to ask the right ones. I really wouldn't suggest crossing the bridge on foot. You should find the elder near the center of camp, near the large Trast transport."

Chadrik thanked the nomad and wandered over to the center of camp. He could see his companions here and there among the various transports. He tried to remember how the nomad pronounced the senior elder's name. Something like Ooo Aah but he decided to call him just "senior elder" to be on the safe side. He approached the Trast transport with some hesitation now wishing he had brought Zik or even Kamoa but since he was here he might as well plow through. He steered his way to the nomads who looked the eldest and the most venerable.

"Hail, friends. I'm looking for the senior elder of this caravan. My companions and I were wondering if we could join you as you cross this magnificent bridge. There are six of us...and a little girl....and her dog."

He bowed slightly hoping for a good reception.

It was an elderly Gran that responded, slowly rising and moving closer, resting against a carved wooden cane. "Fair travels, wanderer," he says in clear but accented Basic, "You and your companions would be most welcome to join us. Sarisa and her sisters are also joining us on our trip across the bridge." He gestures to the campfire nearby, where a trio of human women sit. They are all garbed in study robes, but appear distinct from the other nomads. One looks over at Chadrik and nods.

Chadrik nods in response to the women near the campfire. He then bows to the Gran. "Many thanks. If my companions and I can be of any assistance do not hesitate to ask."

He bows again, hoping he is not overdoing it with the posturing, and leaves. He walks around the camp trying to find his companions. When he does find them, he recounts what happened.

"I seem to have gotten us passage with the caravan across the bridge and maybe a little ways further. We aren't the only ones travelling with them. They seem to have picked up the Sarisa Sisters. Maybe some cult but we won't be the odd ones in the caravan at least. But, there is strength in numbers. As long as we are in the caravan, we probably won't get attacked by any kidnappers."

Zik regards the other outsiders from across the way. "You know anything about the Sarisa Sisters, little one?" he asks Shisa.

Shisa turns to scrutinize the sisters in question. After a minute, however, she shakes her head. " It's not a group I've ever heard of, " she says, " and they look like outlanders to me. "

"Well, perhaps we should say hello," Zik says, making his way over to the other outlanders. "After all, the stranger doesn't ask for a bite to eat without saying 'hello' first."

Kamoa takes up a seat by a campfire, legs folded under him as he sits on the ground. He takes out his flute and plays some quiet notes, eyes in the flames. He plays for a while, and then decides to take out his tattoo kit. Opening the box, he extracts a small bowl, a deep blue liquid in a vial, and a metal rod with a set of needles on the end. He sets up a small mirror in front of him, and leans over to get a view of his face. With relaxed familiarity, he begins to dip the needles into the bowl of blue liquid, and begins to mark the side of his cheek. He takes his time, making small, precise jabs at the flesh. After several minutes of this, he sets the rod down across the bowl, and inspects his work. Satisfied, he replaces all of the equipment and stores it in his pack. He then leans back, letting his head rest in the cradle of his hands behind his head, and watches the sky.

Takane did little while the group mingled, except for stay close enough to watch Shisa out of the corner of her eye. She was getting impatient to move on to their destination. Grandfather has chided her for impatience before, and while she had plenty on the battlefield, in most other instances she found she just didn't have the time.

But seeing as her companions were inextricably scattered throughout the caravan, she sighed, resolving to try it and see. It was unlikely to kill her, although she worried the man she was meeting might leave if they waited too long to arrive. She narrowed the distance between herself and the preacher.

"I will join you," she told Zik, her manner somewhat awkward.

Kai sees his companions settling in amidst the caravanners, but he feels far too settled already. Drifting away from the Mirialan's flute, he finds a more raucous crowd, dancing exuberantly to a chaos of stringed instruments. Tapping a taloned foot to the boisterous snapping and clapping, he swoops in to join in the revelry. "Skaaal!"

Zik nods at Takane's offer to join him, and the pair wind their way through the encampment to where the Sarisa Sisters are seated at their fire. "Good evening, Sisters," he says with a smile. "It's nice to see we're not the only outlanders the Nomads have welcomed into their midst. My companions and I are moving across the bridge with the caravan tomorrow. Until then, what better time to swap stories around a warm fire? My name is Zik Adid-Yati."

One of the women nods in greeting. " Greetings ," she says, " I am Sarisa, as Oohn Aahn mentioned, and these are my sisters, Lenya and Kerisa. " Her accent is significantly different from the other Garuun people, possibly indicating being from a different planet, but it's not immediately familiar. Both of the other women appear very close in age and appearance as Sarisa, with dark hair and tanned skin, and they nod upon being introduced, but say nothing. Lenya has shorter hair, pulled back into braids, while Kerisa has a high ponytail, and Sarisa has long hair. All three are wearing what appears to be bone jewelry--earrings and necklaces.

" We are travelers, explorers, and hunters ," Sarisa says. " We've come to this planet looking for certain game. "

"Interesting," Zik says. "I can't speak for my companion here, but the only thing I ever really hunt is a good tale. What is this game you're after?"

" We've heard rumors of rare--and very dangerous--beasts to the northwest. We were hoping to find more solid information in the next large town. "

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If anyone would like to make a Vigilance check (hard) to detect anything unusual in Sarisa's response, they can. Otherwise, I'd like to move along to the next day.

48 minutes ago, Blackbird888 said:

***Removed to OOC where it should be***