Our companions find themselves in the City-state of Tyr, a few weeks after the overthrow of Kalak and the ascension of King Tithian.
The city is restless, chafing at the sudden change in leadership and life. Slaves, now free, roam the city searching for a way to make a living for themselves. The arena, once the entertainment heart of the city, is closed. Battle-slaves with few talents beyond fighting and surviving grumble and stalk the streets hoping to find work as mercenaries or guards — some resorting to thievery and thuggery when such work proves hard to find. Merchant houses plot and scheme against one another. The templar struggle to keep the city from erupting into violence once again even as they question their own purpose and loyalty to the head of the templar who has now crowned himself king.
The two halfling siblings Panny and Nebin have finally been reunited after a long, excruciating search that had brought the young woman down from the forest ridge and into the tablelands.
The group has been staying at a cheap tavern near one of the many slums in the city, living off their spoils from the rioting and looting of the city. The eladrin had left discreet inquiries at various places — coded messages to alert any local members of the Veiled Alliance that he was a member of the secretive order and wished to make contact. His efforts proved fruitful and after a few days he received a response: he was to arrive at a certain alley at a certain time to meet with one of their members.
The contact was there but proved apprehensive of the strange elf-like creature and wanted further assurance that his interests were honest. He asked the eladrin to prove himself by assisting an ally of theirs with a problem. He was simply given the name Wavir and told to find him in the merchant district.
The group, finding itself restless and eager to get out, agreed to help the eladrin. Panny, an elemental shaman, followed the whispers and guidance of her spirits and they soon found themselves deep within the merchant district and at the foot of the gate of the Merchant House Wavir.
They were allowed inside after relinquishing their weapons (and dinosaur) and they soon found themselves in audience with one of the heads of the house. He had apparently put word out that he was seeking trackers and mercenaries just this morning, so he was surprised that an answer had arrived so quickly. He explained the situation, a caravan that should have arrived the day before was still missing and he feared that it may have gone astray in a sandstorm that rolled through the area a few days ago. He is offering to pay them well if they recover the wagon and goods. And the drivers, of course. But mostly the goods, which is mostly wines, grains, oils and other valuable items.
After being given an indication of a general idea where the wagons might have been when the sandstorm hit they stocked up on supplies for a trek into the tablelands and set out. The journey eastwards along the road was uneventful aside from the oppressive heat of the sun. About a day and a half out the Mul spotted what could be the remnants of wagon trails veering off into the sands where the road took a slight turn.
The group agreed that this was likely their quarry and set off southwards in the wake of the trail.
After several hours travel southwards they wandered into a silt-runner ambush, the warning cries of Panny and Nebin the only thing that kept them from being taken by complete surprise. Even then they were hard pressed against the little lizard-like creatures who were nearly able to overpower them with their poisonous darts and deadly spears. Once they had managed to recover from the nearly fatal initial assault they were able to turn the tide. When the Mul finally sprang into action the battle was all but over, his first move was to cut one of the runners down as he charged into the rest of them, slaying another one in a single blow. The silt runners resolve broke in face of this brutal display of strength and violence and they tried to withdraw but were unable to before being cut down with magic and weapons.
After tending to their injuries they set off again. They followed the trail for a few more hours before coming to a large, bowl-like depression in the sand. At the center of the depression was a wagon with several large insect creatures scurrying around in it. They charged into the beasts and soon found out how dangerous they could be as they took advantage of the rocks and boulders to launch attacks on the group. The dinosaur took the brunt of the attack, it’s hide reduced to a bloody, tattered mess by the time the battle was over; but it was hardly alone in suffering from the talons and jaws of the insects.
Battered and bruised, the party stopped to gather their strength before searching the wagon.