Session 2: The Gharnshyn Tribe
Tizenket – Level 1 Huntress, Female Human
Ulrich – Level 1 Cataphract, Male Human
Karsas – Level 1 Barbarian, Male Human
Eliza – Level 1 Witch, Female Human
Shahr Alsahwa 2, 2522 (The Month of Awakening)
The players made their way north towards a river that they could see in the distance. Behind them, a trail of smoke climbed into the sky from the remains of the slave barge they escaped from the day before.
Approaching the river, Tizenket spied two large craters near the edge of the river. It looks like they had been there for a really long time. The craters were filled with a murky, cloudy water and bits of a strange white substance floated on the surface. Surrounding the pool, Tizenket also spied the skeletons of various rodents and birds. Putting two and two together, the party determined that this substance could be hazardous. They made their way to the shore of the river and began to travel west along its shore.
The sun was beginning to set and the players decided to make camp. They didn’t have much in way of camping supplies, but the night was clear and it was beginning to cool off. Tizenket and Karsas went to the waters edge to see what fish they could catch, Eliza tended the camp, and Ulrich took his newly acquired horse for a spin along the edge of the river to scout around.
Less than a mile up the river, Ulrich spotted a small group of goblins. The goblins, each with a deep crimson-color skin, had just killed a human who was fishing along the river in a canoe. The goblins were in the process of stealing his supplies and the fish he caught. Ulrich, having cataphract training, took this opportunity to charge into battle and speared one of the goblins head-on.
The goblins, shocked at this intrusion, grew angry and tried to formulate an attack, but with no avail. Ulrich and his horse were too fast, and before long, the other members of the party joined in with their bows and spells, and made quick work of the goblins. The party inspected the goblins and the fisherman. On the fisherman’s body, they found an emerald-handled fishing knife. Ulrich presented the knife to Tizenket as a gift.
Looking in the distance, the party spotted a small village to the south west of their location. They decided to rest for the evening, and in the morning, approach the village.
Shahr Alsahwa 3, 2522 (The Month of Awakening)
At first light, the players make their way through the cool, early morning air. As they crest a small dune, a sight unfolds before them—a small village nestled among the dunes, simple yet sturdy structures build from hollowed-out large stones dotting the landscape. Smoke rises gently from a few hearths and the villagers are getting ready for the day.
As the party draws nearer, something remarkable catches their eye. Within tall, wooden enclosures are enormous elephants. These creatures, magnificent and powerful, are kept behind fences crafted with expertise. The players watch in awe as a few villagers tend to the beasts, moving with confidence of those accustomed to handling such massive creatures. The villagers offer the elephants food, speaking to them in soft, calming tones, as if they were nothing more than oversized pets.
This is the Gharnshyn Tribe, the legendary villagers renowned for their uncanny ability to train war elephants — a skill that has earned them a place of respect and admiration among the desert’s many factions. It is said that the Gharnshyns possess a secret, an ancient bond with these creatures that allows them to tame and subdue them with ease.
As the players stand at the outskirts of this remarkable village. It isn’t long before they are seen. The villagers, clad in simple yet functional garments, have their tan skin covered in intricate patterns of colored clay, a practice used to protect against the desert’s harsh, relentless heat. Their expressions are guarded, but not entirely unfriendly.
A figure steps forward from the cluster of huts — a tall, imposing man whose bearing speaks of authority and wisdom. His skin is painted with more elaborate designs of colored clay, denoting his status among his people. As he approaches, the villagers seem to relax slightly. Trailing behind him is a young boy, his eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of awe as he watches the strangers. It is clear from the boy’s demeanor that he is both intrigued and cautious, staying close to the man who must be his father.
As the players attempt to talk to the man, it quickly becomes clear that a language barrier exists between them and the villagers. Words spoken are met with puzzled expressions, and soon both sides resort to gestures and hand signals.
The village leader’s eyes narrow as he notices the bruises and cuts across the player’s wrists — marks unmistakable as those of who have been in shackles. His gaze softens slightly, and he exchanges a few words with the other villagers, their tones low. They seem to understand that the party was under the ogres’ brutal captivity.
Determining that the players pose no threat, the leader motions for the party to follow. He leads them towards the largest structure in the village. The villagers motion for the players to sit, offering them food and water.
After the feast, the leader guides the players outside into the warm desert air. He kneels before them in the sand. With a small stick, he begins to draw, creating simple but deliberate symbols that might guide them on their journey.
First, he draws an arrow pointing north and beneath it sketches three small houses. He looks up at the players, pointing to the drawing and then gesturing in that direction, indicating a settlement or village that lies to the north.
Next, he draws an arrow pointing to the northwest, followed by the image of a human figure standing atop a large stone. His eyes briefly meet theirs with a serious expression, suggesting that this place might hold a figure of power.
Then, he draws an arrow to the west, sketching the shape of a horse. This must be where the horses can be found.
Finally, he draws an arrow pointing east, creating the outline of a tower.
Understanding the leader’s pictures, the party knows where to head next. They need horses.
Bowing their heads in thanks, the players bid the Gharnshyn tribe farewell. The villagers watch in silence as the players prepare to depart.
The players set off toward the west, guided by the images drawn in the sand. The wind stirs the sands, slowly erasing the drawings the leader made, as he watches them make their way into the desert.
