Date: September 30, 109 PA
Time: 2028
Weather: Temperature 30 degrees colder for season (chilly); no wind, light rain
Location: Wilderness
Ley Line: None
Scene modifiers:
- Light: Dim (-1 illumination penalty)
- Visibility: Lightly obscured (-1 visual penalty)
Round 0
***
The young bandit woman gave a small, tentative wave back to Ryder when he introduced himself. She was still staring at the large cannon he’d exposed when he got out. They hadn’t known that was there!
“Mia,” she introduced herself.
“Mia Sikorsky.” Then she looked up at the simvan on the massive rhino-buffalo, the only thing they had been really concerned about if it came to a fight. There were plenty of simvan roaming around the Empire, and she knew enough to be wary of them lest she end up someone’s dinner.
A handsome, sleepy looking young man dragged himself from the back of the vehicle and asked what had happened. The big dragon spoke at rapid speed to catch the man up, and Mia couldn’t help but jump when the dragon turned his attention on her.
And then the dragon seemed to deflate and collapse into a snoring heap.
“Is he...okay?” Mia asked cautiously.
The strange-talking man reassured her that Barinthasheer was fine before flopping down to join the dragon in snoozeville.
Everyone seemed to go about settling down for the rest of the night, leaving Mia standing there wondering what to do. Finally she picked up her pack and found a quiet corner alone to roll out her bed. She overheard Nazo lament the lack of sake.
“I don’t have sake, but will vodka do?” Mia asked, digging a bottle out of her bag and tossing it to the woman in the big hat.
***
The next morning the team loaded up the howdah and the refugees again. Mia was placed atop with them. They eyed her with a bit of wariness, but there was no overt hostility. The day’s travel was rather uneventful, and the team camped beside a river with plenty of fresh water.
The following day they followed the river north. The temperature had dropped significantly, and there was a definite biting chill in the air. They came to a broad swath of damp fens, soft, marshy ground with a noxious air. It didn’t impede travel overly much, but everyone got a bit muddy, wet, and dirty. A few started coughing in the thick, fetid air. It didn’t help much when it started to lightly rain, and everyone was grateful when a significant island of solid ground was found in the marshy area to make camp.
Fires were lit and dinner served out as the refugees huddled together to get warm. No one was in a particularly great mood, and there were a few squabbles among the refugees. A few hours after making camp, though, the coughing could be heard, deep, chest rattling, lung-raking coughing from several of the refugees. Some even cough so much they hack up blood.