Tales of the Raptors - The Inhumans

    The quick ride over to the airfield the next morning was done before sunrise, probably so as not to alert the rest of the hotel guests that a nine foot long Ravager was strolling through the halls.  The flight, as promised, was arranged just for the Raptors.  How many favors they had to call in for this, nobody wanted to ask, but they got the impression that whatever Darius, Kami, Gwenvael and Tsuki had done for Tawny would buy them a lifetime of free stays and all the entertainment they could soak up.  Just as well, most of the newbies didn’t really have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of yet.

    The flight was somewhat unsettling for those who hadn’t been in an airplane before.  And though she had recollections of many trips in different vehicles that her mother had taken before she was born, the actual physical experience was fascinating for Crystal.  Margarite spent most of the flight criticizing the pilot’s piloting skills.

    The whole trip from Dragaard over the mountains to Ravangaard took less than an hour, cruising at twenty five thousand feet at over four hundred miles an hour.  This also was a challenge for a few to comprehend.  Margarite would have gone into a long discussion of aerodynamics, Arrallonian aircraft design and piloting, but Charisstra kept interrupting her running to the head to vomit.  Apparently Drow were better off tunneling under mountains rather than flying over them in a sealed cabin.

    Ravangaard didn’t have a formal airfield as such, but few of the Arrallonian aircraft actually needed one.  Since the time of the very first airships built by the Church of Isis, Arrallonian flying vessels all landed vertically by one method or another.  A high speed cargo aircraft such as this could set down in almost any cleared field with a hundred feet or so space in between obstacles.  That’s precisely what it did, right next to Castle Ravangaard.

    The plane was met by a small contingent from the castle, guards under the command of Amanda Steward, the Commander of the Guard for Darius’ real home, a dank, dusty, gray, ominous looking castle that had the general shape of a wolf’s head from above.  It sat a mile outside of a small village, the village of Ravangaard, with a clear killing ground all around and high, solid walls on the outside.  Even the top floor of the keep barely looked out over the battlements.  This was a border fortress built to withstand siege warfare, and it hadn’t changed in several centuries.  Riding in with their escort, they could smell that it hadn’t changed, despite being rebuilt from ashes after being attacked by the Sisters of Pain and Pleasure and razed to the ground by their Krell Magmamaster.

    The current Baron of Ravangaard, Darius’ eldest brother, Damien Steward, awaited their arrival.  But outside of a quick repast and a few questions about how his mother and little brother were doing, there was no extended stay.  Damien had horses to offer, but Margarite refused.  She had a Regal Procession spell for their mounts.  That would save them having to worry about whether or not their horses got caught in a dragon’s breath weapon or jumped by gryphons or something.  With that, they were free to go and escorted to the head of the mountain road that dropped down the eastern edge of the Western Barrier Mountains into Skycliff Realm and the Symballan Empire.  The road was the border between the two nations.  Before the forging of the Western Alliance and the creation of Syvasgaard as an independent state, this was part of Carellon, territory given up by King Aaron as part of the alliance agreement.  It was now the official nation of the Mystaino and the Aaracokra.  As such, the expanse of the western erg and the rugged terrain which had once been the battle ground of many wars between the Symballan Empire and Carellon was now a peaceful vista of cliff top aeries and secluded valley oases.

    If the group headed straight for Maruk from here, they’d cut across the northern tip of Skycliff.  There was no reason not to.  The Mystaino were pleasant and peaceful bird people, though the Aaracokra could be a bit unpredictable.  This was also the only place one could expect to encounter Kenku, the more devious and underhanded cousins of the Aaracokra.  Unlike their more barbaric kin, the Kenku had no social structure of their own, instead living as random individuals scattered amongst various syndicates and bandit groups.  Like the Wolfen in the northlands, the Kenku were loners and rarely nice people.

    As to what else they might encounter crossing the high desert rather than taking the road the long way around, that was anybody’s guess.  The high desert of the Western Erg had never been a particularly safe place.  With the fluctuations of magius and reality within the Symballan Sea, it was now even worse.  A straight shot, however, given their capabilities and magics, could save them perhaps a day, maybe less.  The journey from Maruk to Han’ra could be done the same way,… a straight trip across the desert might save them two, maybe three days.  Either way, it would be four to five days to Maruk, another eight to ten days from Maruk to Han’ra.  Their chances of encounter off the road were naturally higher than on the road, plus they’d have to manage their own accommodations at night.  The road had a few wayside inns here and there, and oases where caravans and travelers would normally stop and camp.  Across the desert, they’d have no such luxuries.

    Given this as her/m first real decision as leader, Margarite asked everyone’s opinion.  Almost everyone wanted to cut across the desert.  It wasn’t that they were in a hurry, but the chance for adventure along the way was certainly tempting.  Only Galadon and Tanaleth were in favor of taking the road and relative safety.  Margarite chose to go overland.  Tana had the Key of Thoth, and as a seeker of truth, despite the false front she presented to the world, she was best qualified to access its chambers.  With the Chambers of Bast, they had no real need of inns and wayside camping grounds, nor guards to protect their camp at night.

    Their first day in the saddle was spent descending the constant switchbacks and tight canyons along the Carellon/Skycliff border.  They seemed to lose a lot of time not going very far.  Garmr was kept on a tight leash, as the region was still fairly well populated with the people from Ravangaard who had spread out from the central village for their own purposes.  There were a few mines here and there, the last vestiges of fertile soil before reaching the desert, and a unique climate that dumped dozens of inches of rain at certain times of the year.  Setting up catch barrels of rainwater and selling the water to the parched desert travelers was a popular business along these roads.  And as Ginger might have observed, there were the inevitable roadside shops selling curios and trinkets from either kingdom to gullible travelers.

    The first night was spent next to one of those roadside camp sites, though they moved off far enough not to draw any attention from their entrance or exit from The Shrine.  Despite their relative comfort and luxury within the Chambers of Bast, and the desire of many to continue their previous sexual exploits, they agreed to keep the frisky business to a minimum while they were on the road, just so everyone would get sufficient sleep and they could be up and out before sunrise each morning. 

    With the early fall, the desert heat was mostly gone during the days, replaced by winds, blowing dust, and evening thunderstorms that lit the sky with lightning shows.  Here, the Regal Procession would prove most useful, as well as their other traveling magics.  Easy Trail, Lighten Load, Warning, Traveler’s Mount, Aura of Comfort and their Mass versions would become their most used spells.  With The Shrine, they could forget spells like Leomund’s Secure Shelter and Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion, not that any of them could cast the latter just yet.

    The morning of the second day out had them leaving the road and plotting a direct course across the desert for Maruk.  With Garmr out ahead, loping along and zigzagging back and forth at many times the speed their horses could travel, Damaris had a solid picture of which trails to take, which cutbacks to avoid, and which mesas they should just go around.  Whether he had been spotted and followed back to the group, or they had simply come upon the group first, didn’t really matter.  A bit after six o’clock as the burning rays of Apos first cracked the rim of the world and started to bathe the cool desert in warmth, a flock of birdmen descended from the morning sky, surrounding the group and halting their advance.

    Perhaps twenty remained airborne, javelins grasped in their talons.  It was said the Aaracokra feet were as dexterous as their hands, and this could certainly be seen in this encounter.  Another twenty or so landed in a large circle around the now halted line of horses.  One, marked more like a hunting falcon than a colorful song bird, landed and almost immediately transformed into a human wearing the traditional aba and turban of the desert peoples.

    “Sahlam, al’ak elam.”

    Damaris and Galadon were the only ones unfamiliar with the man’s language, common Symballan.  Margarite reigned herm horse slightly forward and smiled.

    “Sahlam, effendi.”

    The man narrowed his eyes, “You are Maeceyean, are you not?”

    “I am.  And you are Mystaino.”

    “Indeed.  And your friends, a strange band, a Venture Company no doubt.”

    “We are the Night Raptors, out of Syvasgaard to ply the Symballan Sea.”

    “Then you go to your deaths, adventurer, for that place is cursed with death and torment.”

    “That is our choice to make, is it not?”

    “Indeed.  And why would you be taking such a direct route to Maruk from the mountains?  Would the road to the north not be safer?”

    “Probably.  But it is a matter of some urgency, and with our magics, the desert is no challenge to cross at speed.”

    “Is that so?  Be advised, Maeceyean, you will be watched.  Bring harm to the bird peoples, through intent or negligence, and you will be dealt with most harshly.  The law of the desert is,… unmerciful.”

    Margarite bowed her head slightly and smiled again, “As you command.  I assure you we have no intent to cause harm to any who do not first try to harm us.”

    “All the same, you will be watched.”

    The man turned and walked back to his troops.  He transformed on the way, back into a hominid birdman with magnificent wings and the markings of a falcon, and launched himself into the air.  The others followed suit, a few at a time, flying up and disappearing off to the south.  Crystal made special note as the commander of the Aaracokra patrol flew off, that he was bearing one the unique weapons of the Mystaino, the Falcon Blade, something a certain Weaponsmater would no doubt love to get her hands on.

*****

    They rode into the dimness of twilight that evening, stopping only after they’d completely lost sight of the path ahead.  Damaris called Garmr back and they settled into The Shrine for the night.  The next morning, however, they were no more than two hours or so down the trail when they came across the ruins of an ancient structure.  It was probably some sheik’s fortress or a border fort built during some past war between the Symballan Empire and Carellon.  However, it had been in ruins for many decades now and despite being partially overgrown by rugged desert plants, it was completely deserted.  A thorough search revealed no hidden passages, underground lairs or secret cashes of booty.  Disappointed at having no side adventure to engage in this morning, they rode on.

*****

    As sunset came and went, they could spot lights in the desert ahead.  By their calculations, they should be just on the outskirts of Maruk.  They decided to push on into the night, arriving at an Inn on the edge of town around eight that evening.  Margarite had taken the time alone in the desert to change her appearance, as had Crystal.  Margarite now appeared as a male Symballan, dashingly handsome of course.  Crystal also assumed human male form, pointing out from what she knew of Symballan society, or rather the Thunate society which they were most likely to encounter out here in the sticks, being led by human males was a much better thing than being a nearly all girl band of assorted non-humans.  Kaye offered to turn any of the other girls into guys for the time being, if they desired it.  At the very least, V’Lairran, Razer and Charisstra would need disguises, preferably a simple Extended Polymorph into humans with about the same looks.

    Crystal’s Symballan was much better than Margarite’s, barely a hint of a foreign accent, so she arranged for the rooms that night.  They slept uncomfortably, expecting some dire event in the dead of night.  Suffering no such assault, they loaded up early and headed out, starting the next long leg across the desert to the port town of Han’ra.  The day passed quietly as they rode quickly across mesas and through wadis recently cut by torrential rains yet still dry as a bone.  Around five that afternoon, with Apos westering yet still beating down hot on the high desert, a sudden noise up ahead alerted them to Garmr having encountered something as he scouted ahead.  They whipped their mounts to a gallop and closed on a strange scene.

    Garmr, one of the demonic hunting beasts favored by Demon princess such as Graz’zt, was surrounded and fighting with a half dozen huge monstrosities.  Scorpions the size of war dogs skittered this way and that, advancing and attempting to get the best of the demonic hound.  However, Garmr’s innate power of shadow stepping allowed him to avoid any mass assault and kept the scorpions both off balance and increasingly irate.  Damaris’ link with him allowed her to command his actions, to keep them busy chasing his shadow while the group’s archers took them down one after another.  It was like shooting fish in a barrel.  Damaris made sure to stop and collect the scorpion venom sacks before they packed up and rode on.

*****

    That night they were back in the comfort of The Chambers of Bast.  Margarite took the scorpion venom over to the medical bay for storage.  Surely they’d find a use for it at some point down the line.  Still in the form of handsome males, Razer, Margarite and Crystal found themselves entertaining some of the ladies that evening, namely V’Lairran, Charisstra and Kaye.

    The next morning, the eighth of Delsept, they headed out in the dark once again, their long duration defenses and Extended Polymorphs renewed.  It was perhaps three hours after sunrise when Garmr once again alerted on something up ahead.  This time, instead of fighting them, Garmr led them on a circuitous route back towards the party.  He was being hunted by four huge monsters that had a habit of roasting their meals before devouring them, and they much preferred jackals, or anything that looked like one, to any other wild game.  Of course, horse meat and human rider were just as good in a pinch.

    When Garmr reappeared in front of Damaris, he immediately turned and growled in the direction of the approaching beasts.  Four huge red and orange lizards, easily better than twelve feet long each, scurried over the rocks and through the cactus and sage brush.  They stopped when they got close enough to see what stood before them, roaring and looking back and forth to one another.  Obviously they were trying to decide whether or not to attack and working up the courage to do just that.

    Damaris dismounted and started forward to deal them, moving slowly, watching their reactions as she would if she were hunting wild bear in the mountains.  When she was the focus of their attention, she activated several of her ki powers and cast a quick Towering Oak spell.  She immediately became the winged demon that so many claimed she always was.  More importantly, her presence so shocked the lizards that they recoiled and began to circle.  That’s when Crystal appeared beside her, wreathed in flame and looking to all regards like a red scaled demon or draconian of some sort.  The lizards turned and quickly shuffled off into the desert.

    When Damaris looked at the young Krell, she had a thought behind her eyes.  Crystal quickly cut it off before she could say anything.  She shook huge wings and a spiked fan, turning immediately into her human male form again.  She simply stood there with a raised eyebrow.  Damaris sneered as she returned to her horse and remounted.

    “You could have been hurt.”

    Crystal snickered, “Immune to all fire, remember.”

    Damaris said nothing, just snapped the reigns and headed off into the desert.

*****

    The next day followed with more of the same, an early rise and a dusty ride.  Sometime after noon, Gramr again spotted something that he didn’t like.  Crystal was beginning to think the Ravager didn’t like anything, for he was constantly growling and snarling at everything and everyone.  Of course, this was a beast native to the Abyss.  There was chaos literally running in its veins.  Hatred and bloodletting was all it would have known had it not been rescued and raised by Damaris.  According to the Tiefling, the Ravager was still only partially grown.  Crystal remembered what the full grown variety was like from her mother’s encounters with them.

    But this time, whatever had the beast agitated was well worth the snarls and barks,… not that the thing actually barked,… it was more a weird cross between a growl, a bark and a lion’s roar.  Of course, when his noise making was answered by something that sounded exactly like a lion’s roar, albeit a huge one, they knew he wasn’t just barking at shadows.

    Garmr had come upon a small box canyon and decided to run down in to get a drink from a small stream gurgling up from under the desert rock.  He smelled carnage, and being a creature of death himself, snuffled off to investigate.  His nose led him to the mouth of a cave surrounded by carcasses of horses and goats and men.  As he started to stick his nose into the darkness of the cave, the resident had come forth to chase him away.  The beast he’d seen was hug, as large as a young dragon, with wings to match and at least one head that did as well.  The other two heads were of a goat and a lion, and the creature’s long tail was a hideous viper,… a Chimera.

    Deciding this would be a good time to test their teamwork, Damaris took command, leading them into the monster’s lair.  It was possible the beast had some treasures carried into its cave from passing victims.  Their straight route across the desert probably revealed the creature’s lair, whereas all the travelers and caravans that took the road that had been attacked merely knew that the beast flew off into the desert somewhere and disappeared.  The wadi that led to the cave was well hidden.  They’d only found it by Garmr stumbling upon it.

    With spells and defenses in place, Crystal and Charisstra led the way in.  Damaris held back since she was able to do more damage from the second or third rank with her bow than up front with a sword.  Crystal had erected her Krell armor, suddenly covering herself from head to toe in what looked like liquid silver with a slight reddish tinge.  The activation of her Krell magics also proceeded without any visible spellcasting, perhaps the true method of magic use by the original Krell.  Since she was effectively the first one born in eighteen thousand years, there was no way of knowing.  Galadon joined Damaris in the second rank, quick to offer his aid to defend Tanaleth’s cousin.  Crystal responded to his chivalry with little more than a sneer.  Margarite cast her Arcane Rogue spells and pronounced the way ahead clear to enter the cave.  They wouldn’t get that far.

    As they neared the mouth of the cave, the ever alert Chimera blasted the area in front with a gout of flame.  With Tanaleth’s Antifire Sphere’s, they all ignored the blast and prepared for the beast’s charge.  They didn’t have to wait long.  Thundering footfalls preceded the emergence of the monster, still spewing fire from its dragon head and snapping wildly with it lion’s head.  Huge paws came immediately down on the two foremost warriors, pushing Charisstra back, but failing to budge Crystal so much as an inch.  Damaris quickly sunk two arrows deep in the monster’s chest.  Crystal stabbed upward with her Krell steel shortsword, tearing a wide gash not far beneath where Damaris had landed her flights.  Razer froze the dragon head with an icy blast of Eldritch energy, and V’Lairran pelted the goat head with a Shadow Bolt, all but destroying the head as the shadow energy sucked the life right out of the monster.  Charisstra sprung back into the fight with both shortswords tearing into the lion’s head, removing it cleanly.  Before Galadon could so much as step forward, the monster was slain, all that was left to do was sever the snake tail that was still flailing about even after the body had died.

    Checking quickly, Damaris confirmed the beast was sexless, as were most such kimeric mutations.  There would be no concern of young or eggs in a lair.  Margarite pressed on into the cave as a few of the others discussed what to do with the beast’s carcass.  She could see no further sign of life and quickly determined that the cave was scarcely more than a single chamber with a ledge at the back where the beast had nested.  She did recover a few backpacks and the remains of eight unfortunate humans that had been stripped of most of their flesh by the ravenous Chimera.  Most of their things were melted or burnt unrecognizable.  A few items remained however, including the three backpacks which had been magicked with a simple Fireproof spell.

    They wasted no more than a half hour at the Chimera’s lair, taking sections of the beast’s hide, the severed dragon and lion heads, and its intact wings and storing them in the Funerary Chamber in The Shrine with the appropriate Preserve spells on them until they could be properly dealt with.  Then they pressed on to Han’ra.

    They converged on the road around five that afternoon and started the descent into the crater of the Symballan Sea by dusk.  Han’ra would be no more than another ten miles ahead, so they pressed on into the night.  The main road, little more than a wide flattened trail, was steep yet well marked.  Wagon ruts showed that the road was normally quite busy.  Nearing civilization again, they all made sure to reestablish their disguises and shapeshifting.  Margarite and Crystal again went in as male humans of likely Symballan decent.  Kaye simply changed her hair and eye color and dressed as a harem dancer under a large, billowing robe.  Charisstra, Damaris, Razer and V’Lairran were all changed into human females by Kaye’s Extended Polymorphs, looking not so much different than their true forms.  She also supplied billowing desert robes and veils to cover the girls nearly head to toe.  Fortunately, the early autumn desert was cool and pleasant this evening.

    As they rode down the steep road, with many switchbacks and cuts, they could tell that the road was no more than a few years old.  The Symballan Sea itself was barely older.  The massive tear in what used to be the Iron Hills was caused by the unlikely intersection of Divine powers and Shadow technology.  An asteroid the size of a small moon, hurtled into Arrallon with the specific intent of cracking the planet wide open and destroying the last remaining flux crystal in the universe, had been stopped by the actions of a single Demi-God, the off-spring of the God of Death, Talon’s daughter Raptor.  She had stopped time in a region of the desert at the height of the Avatar War.  With Ares’ defeat at the hands of his own daughter, Kuritha Rose, High Demonhunter of Athena, the Olympians had little choice but to listen to her entreaty that they lay down their petty feud with the Gods of Heliopolis or face utter destruction themselves.  Together, Olympus and Heliopolis held the asteroid at bay, limiting the damage to a section of the Symballan desert.  It still left a massive crater a thousand miles long and hundreds of miles wide. 

    After the devastation, the Shadows attacked in force, but were stopped in their tracks and defeated by the combined power of the Ashiri, their ancient enemies.  The Ashiri had been shamed into throwing off their billion year old policy of non-interference.  The Ashiri and The Shadows both disappeared.  It was rumored they wiped each other out of existence.  What was left was a dust filled crater many miles deep.  To end the conflict once and for all, Princess Neferites of the Holy Symballan Empire used Goth the Foehammer to destroy the northern wall of the crater, opening up a hole to the waters of the Hergovite Sea and forming the Symballan Sea.

    Since then, Symballans had moved into the crater and built fishing villages and ports.  Roads were constructed.  Sailing vessels were launched and the Symballans began to enjoy access to the oceans of the world.  But the Symballan Sea was unlike any other ocean on Arrallon.  The energies present in its formation, the history of alien influence in the region, and the temporal rift that had covered much of the region in the ancient days of the War of Tryskellias, all combined to make the Symballan Sea a place of strange time vortexes, alternate realities, and dangerous monsters.  Only the very brave, or the very crazy, ever ventured more than a few miles from shore.  Those that lived in the fishing villages and port towns were always alert for an attack from some previously unknown enemy.

    It was little surprise when they rode into Han’ra that evening that doors slammed in their faces and no one wanted to talk to them.  Kaye finally managed to charm enough of the locals to get directions to the best Inn in town.  Again, staying in an Inn seemed exposed and a little unnatural to them, having spent so much time in the Chambers of Bast with absolute security.  Still, the Symballan Empire was not what it once was.  Foreign travelers were often looked on with suspicion and outright contempt in a few places, but those who actually tried to fit in, speak the language or showed respect to local customs were generally welcomed with smiles and decent enough service in places that supplied such things.

    Margarite recalled a story she had heard of the Night Raptor’s earlier adventures.  It was either this town or one nearby, where they had encountered the Iron Cobra and had nearly perished.  The Raptors had been joined by the Lions of Martek, a venture company that had not been heard from since that adventure.  The group had headed into the Maelstrom in the middle of the sea, seeking the Isle of el’Baku where Surtrik Mallabane held the Eye of Lolth, the first of Her artifacts to be destroyed.  The act had cost Surtrik his life, but had revealed to the Raptors the hidden secret behind the artifacts and how to destroy each of them.  That was almost six years ago.  And now a new group of the Night Raptors was preparing to head out into that same sea with even less direction than the first members had so long ago.

    Their stay in Han’ra was a bit longer than expected.  It took three days to find a ship that would take them north into the Symballan Sea.  In the meantime, they were guests at one of the better Inns in Han’ra, not that there were a lot of choices.  Most of them continued to engage in a nightly sexual Olympics.  It was much like being back at Raptor Place, just that they were less inclined to go running about the halls and outside naked.

    The ship they had contracted to take them north was the Sekar Ashim.  Its Captain, Atar ben’Gundr, was a swarthy, older sea dog, not entirely of Symballan descent.  His accent was odd, perhaps a little Tarkanian mixed in with some Hergovite.  And his crew looked none too trustworthy.  That lasted only as long as it took Kaye to negotiate passage.  After that, the entire crew was eating out of her hand, or something like that.  They set sail at dawn on the twelfth of Delsept.  For some, this would be their very first sea voyage.  For others, perhaps their last.