The Search Party

            The sun has risen, the fierce orb of fire turning all that it touches to flame. Even the sand, the grains of ancient mountains taking on the hue of the sky itself now. But there is something else, a certain change in the sands texture, off to the west the light bounces back as if falling on a distorted mirror, and to the east, the darkness has grown, even as the relentless hammer blows of daylight, the sands remain darker, still, quieter and between these two disparate deserts lay the oft travelled caravan route, the only safe passage through the mightiest desert in all of Middle Earth. Such a long journey, that the merchants that traverse it speak not of days, or of weeks, but of seasons in the sun. But here, one day south of the walled city of Black, where the wealth of the far reaches first passes before heading off to Umbar or the other northern cities, there is a small camp, already being broken down, as the denizens pack up and quickly hide their presence, making certain that any patrols from the city might not have found them. During the reign of the Empire, they would never dare venture this close, but with the fall of Black Tower, there is little fear of military action even this close. Jugartha has once more donned his black and red robes and stands like a statue atop the hill surveying his now greatly diminished armies, some dozen or so desert rats of no filial obligation and no tribe of their own, but they know the ways of the sand, and within a few short moments, only the spent coals indicate that ever a human trod in this place. And that soon enough will be swallowed up again. Glancing around he offers a smile to the world, stretching and speaking to the bandit leader he gestures a little further south, to await the first caravan of the day, already the plumes of dust can be seen as it sets out for the southern reaches, perhaps even unto the Yellow Mountains itself. But perhaps they won't make it and yet more blood will fertilize the desert.

A tall woman, swathed in a red silken burnoose climbs the hill to join the former Paladin and his bandit leader. Shading her eyes, she gazes at the approaching caravan. She sighs, "Hide behind the hill, yes?"

The caravan approaches slowly, a motley collection of merchants and their hired guards who ride about them and ahead, as well--the desert is no place to transport riches without suitable protection. This particular caravan appears to have a rearguard as well--a group of about a dozen armed warriors, robed and turbaned against the desert sun and sand. They ride.

            Holding up his fist, Jugartha extends three fingers and swings it over from left to right, three of the bandits bury themselves in the sand and in moments are invisible, three more head north to make sure the caravan is ill protected before they launch the assault. "Stay down, if they're too large, let them pass, otherwise, we eat well tonight." and nodding to the other bandit as he tugs on Azradi's arm to pull her down so that their heads vanish in the rising waves of heat off the top of the sand dune from which they are surveying. "These ones seem a little too organized for my taste, we might have to let them pass and wait for the next. Unless you intend to get your hands dirty Princess."

"We've been through this before," replies Azradi patiently, lowering her voice. She lowers herself to the sand, lying on her stomach. "I am a Corsair, not a bandit. There is a difference, though you fail to see it." She grins at the Paladin turned bandit and narrows her grey eyes against the glare of the sun. Looking over the approaching caravan once more, she frowns. "It that a vanguard? It is strange if so."

            A nod of his head to the woman and turning his head slightly he calls out, the sound of a distressed donkey reverberating amongst the sand dunes. The bandit on the far side grumbles and crawls up slightly higher to get a better view "Large caravan, and many many guards. It's not big enough for so many warriors. Something is wrong. Hunters of your woman friend?" he asks glaring reprovingly at Azradi and then shaking his head "We'll watch, but we won't fight against that many. We might be bandits noble breast. But we're not stupid." Jugartha meanwhile just attempts not to laugh aloud after giving the hold signal.

Still the caravan approaches, though the group in the rear has slowed somewhat, as if they are separate from the rest. One warrior, in front of the others, appears to be leading...and scanning the terrain with a hand to shade her eyes. There is nothing to identify this group, however--they are clad in plain linen and carry no banner, at least not yet

The Corsair woman blushes and unaccountably looks sheepish. "Look for the raven," she suggests, clearing her throat. "If they /are/ looking for me and bear any other device, they do not need to find me."

"It must be two groups," she muses further, "Could they be from Tolkar and searching for the source of your mischief?"

            A shake of his head as he pulls the black hood up over his head and laughing softly to himself "It might be, but we've left no survivors yet and they won't be missing them for several months still, until they don't report back in. We're safe for now, we haven't been stupid yet. But we can't get the men down near the road to look for your Raven now." he sighs rises to one knee, still ducked low so that there is still almost nothing visible above the trails of light that erupt from the dune top. "Wait a little longer, and we'll just pick up the last rider, perhaps we can get some answers, just in case.

Slowly, the caravan passes and then the dozen warriors behind it.

But the one leading the dozen pauses, astride her horse, watching the surrounding terrain for several long minutes as the dust settles on the road ahead of her. It is only after this long pause that the rider turns her horse to follow the rest of the group, though she moves at a slow pace. Her face and identity and even her sex are hidden by the linen worn against the heat. But as Alimah turns to follow the party, there on a saddlebag that was previously out of view is the emblem of the raven.

"Do not eat his horse," Azradi replies dryly. "I must return eventually and I would rather not walk."

She lapses into silence, watching along with the others as the vanguard slows and its leader falls behind. There is nothing to say on the matter, she just glances at the man crouching beside her, awaiting his action.

            Pulling a small wooden box from his belt and runs it along the hilt of his dagger creating that same sound as the chirping of a cricket, another signal as he drops back down behind the dune and at a run with the other bandit on his heel he moves to join the bandits along the road way as they wait to pick off a straggler, trailing after the caravan and rear guard. Finally he stops and glancing back, he nods to the man at his side, who pulls a composite bow out and pulling it back he lets fly an arrow aimed towards the back of the straggler. Curiosity overcoming trepidation.

The straggler, in this case, is Alimah, fallen far enough behind now that for the moment, her absence is not noticed by those ahead--the Corsair having told the guard with her to move on, after all.

The sound of the ambush is muffled by the desert sands, but the Corsair's horse, nostrils flaring, senses something and rears at the last second--the arrow meant for its rider hitting the horse's flank instead. Unprepared for this, Alimah is thrown clear of her mount, landing with a thud in the sand, momentarily dazed. The horse, with its raven saddlebag still not noticed, takes off.

Azradi rises from her place into a crouch, when the rider is brought down. Keeping low, she follows in the footsteps of the Paladin and bandit leader until she has joined them. "You shot the horse," she accuses mildly and moves past them to approach the fallen rider.

            A grunt as he watches the horse peel off into the desert and then return slower back towards Tolkar, oozing blood. A sigh as he grasps the hilt of his scimitar but not drawing it, as his bandits erupt from their hiding place to quickly grab the fallen rider. Jugartha ignoring or neglecting to respond as he moves in with the rest to wrestle the woman to the ground and smuggle her out of sight in case any of the other riders might turn around. Not wanting a pitched battle, just some answers.

This straggler is not so easily taken, struggling every step of the way to try to reach her scimitar and biting down hard on the hand of a man who tries to choke off her screams. She draws blood from the man's hand--and kicks and spits at Jugartha, not recognizing him. But still, by the time the party of guards with the Corsair notice she is missing, there is no sign of horse nor rider. In the struggle, the linen masking this rider is not aside, revealing at least part of her face. Enough for her to be recognized despite her refusal to give up?

The Farside lady watches this struggle dispassionately, her hand idly resting on her own blade. Until the linen veil shifts. Azradi tilts her head and regards the prisoner for a moment, then starts forward. "Alimah?! Let her go, she is one of mine," she orders.

            Jugartha stops where he is, not having taken part in the sudden attack personally, but at Azradi's shout, he growls something in the call and response atonals of the tribal hunters, who promptly let her go, though the man with the bloody hand gives her belly a kick before she is released and then with weapons drawn, encircling her but leaving her to catch her breath and allow Azradi access "Too many more of your friends and we will need to hire more soldiers to take down these caravans." Jugartha growls.

"Captain!" Alimah's cry of recognition is cut short by the kick to her stomach. She is half on her feet already, but doubles over now to clutch at her stomach and heave a few breaths before she is able to look up again, still not standing. Her hand is already at her scimitar, the weapon half withdrawn from its scabbard. "Captain--are you held against your will?"

"I'll ensure my friends do not bother your friends," Azradi replies, waving her hand dismissively. She moves past the steel ring that surrounds Alimah, much as it did her two days ago. "Not precisely," she replies, offering the other Corsair woman her hand. "What are you doing out here?"

Any who had seen her in the days after her experience in the Ruins could mark a striking difference in the Farside lady: The heavy fatigue of sleep deprivation and emotional turmoil is no longer evident upon her features. Indeed, she seems well rested and at peace - if not a little dusty.

            Folding his arms across his chest and peering out from the relative shade of his hood. A shake of his head then as he steps forward, lifting up a spear point to enter the ring of steel "You two should be going back to the city soon. You're upsetting my men and they see a great wealth in taking you both. Should we deny them? We hold back the attack only for now, but if you lot keep coming down here, death will eventually follow."

A quick glance about her tells the Corsair that she is outnumbered in any case--and so she sheaths her sword before reaching for Azradi's offered hand and getting to her feet, a bit slowly from the struggle but not too poorly off. She does not answer the Captain's question at first, instead, taking a moment to study the woman's state carefully, then nodding.

"We are looking for you," Alimah answers, finally. "And those..." she points to the party of a dozen that can be seen retracing their steps, "are part of my search party. It was feared you are lost."

The solemn expression is then turned to Jugartha, though Alimah blinks in mild surprise on recognizing the man. "Quite," she says, looking from Jugartha to his men. "And the Captain is missed in Farside...and rumors begin to spread in the city, which with enough time, will only weaken our position."

"It is hard to explain why I am here," Azradi sighs, replying to Alimah. "Go stop them, I will return."

Alimah's expression only grows more concerned as the rest of the search party begins to pick up the trail. "If you are safe," she says to Azradi, "then yes. No need for...trouble." She glances to Jugartha and his men, then picks her way pack down to the main road and the rest of the search party.

"I am safe," the Farside lady assures, despite the Paladin's threats. She watches the other Corsair leave for a moment. "You are not returning with us?" she asks, turning back to Jugartha. A look of unease enters her features once more.

            A few muttered comments are spoken and the bandits quickly vanish back up the side of the dune. Jugartha looks to the Lady of Farside and smiles "If you stay here, you'll be taken back to your city and enjoy all the perks of your position." digging one toe into the sand as if he also intends to scamper up the side of the dune towards the relative cover out of sight from the caravan route "Not until I am allowed back in as I arrived first. Already Umbar has cast me out as they did the Paladins before, but..." a shrug of his shoulders, a smile and he is gone, leaping with light steps up the steep slope.

"Jugartha," Azradi calls, reaching out to the departing man - her brow distressed. She takes a step after him, hesitates and looks behind her to the caravan road. With one last sigh, she watches the Paladin climb the hill a moment before turning away and walking towards the road - and duty.

            Jugartha stands upon the crest of the hill and gazing down at the small figures, dark eyes looking to spot the woman, and then with an ululating call, he offers a salute to her and then with one step back vanishes into the haze of heat and shadows on the leeward side of the dune.