Verei! Your patrol is high over the desert of the south, east of Chiaroscuro when you spot something unusual! A small caravan making its way north through the desert, off of any beaten path. This is rather unusual, as the hazards of the desert increase exponentially off the beaten paths-- sandstorms swallow convoys whole, and travel-times suffer.

 

Tarvek! What are you doing? You can be on patrol near the priory, a bit further than usual in the desert if you want in immediately, or I can have a talky-thing going on simultaneously that will link up.

 

Alighting atop an outcropping of rocks, silhouetted against the blistering sun, the Great Black Dragon Lord, Sovereign, spreads his wings out with a menacing coiling of his neck. As the sun blazes at the dragon's back, the towering lance and winged dragon helm of the Master of Storms creates a second silhouette, with his cape flickering in the sun. The Priory is surrounded by dense forests, and jungles beyond, but here, to the west of Stormwind, the desert encroaches--and leaves those who stray too close exposed. As dragon and rider rest upon the precipice, Tarvek surveys...and watches.

 

Sitting on the back of his skydrake, Verei's arms are hooked under Tsure's as he holds the complicated rein-system of his machine, somehow managing to retain not only his sanity but his ability to fly decently despite the fact that the drake is flying at speeds that would make most human beings wet with terror at the thought of it. Spotting the caravan, Verei gives a brief frown behind his helmet, tilting the reins to urge the skydrake into a yaw. "Will you look at that," the skyknight offers in Tsure's ear, "And here I was hoping for a nice romantic scouting." He laughs and eases the drake back to a more sane speed, lowering it to get a better look at the unusual occurence. "Wonder what happened to them," he notes conversationally, idly circling above like a vulture over carrion.

 

OK, Tarvek, you got a sux, but so you can't see quite far enough to notice the sand-colored caravan against the sandy wastes. You CAN, however, see something streak like a flaming rocket across your sky!

 

The Poets Sing of keen-eyed Tsure/ Dragon-riding/ Verei-hugging.//

 

Watched-the-wastes / bright-eyed-Tsure/ spying a caravan/ far below. //

 

But subtle not was her swift transport / Even as she drew in sight / The traders saw her/ tensing subtly//

 

As if danger had befallen / they prepared their arms / for war.

 

Spying the streak that could only be Verei, Tarvek and Sovereign take off silently from their sun-baked perch. Great black wings flapping in the sun, dragon and rider follow towards where the warbird flew off to. Sovereign might not be as fast, but he has the endurance to follow.

 

Verei nods, slowing down significantly. "Who do you think they are?"

 

Tarvek, rather than make you wait, we'll just assume at this point that you are now a second dark shape approaching on the horizon.

 

Ledaal Tarvek continues to fly over the desert sands, steadily approaching the tense caravan. If they weren't tense before, they'd damn-well-better-be now.

 

The caravan continues ahead. There are some barked orders, but they seem tense rather than panicked.

 

"I...I don't know," Tsure says glancing back to Verei. "They don't look particularly friendly, but then again I suppose neither do we. I doubt any group so small could generate much of a ruckus, but they're what we're out here to check out anyways, right?"

 

"You got it," Verei agrees, "Shall we give 'em a buzz-by and see if anybody shoots at us, or ask 'em politely who they are and hope they answer something we like?"

 

Friend? Tarvek is a Prince of the Earth, the Terrestrial Exalted, /Dragoon of Wind/. He circles about and lands with a great gush of sand from Sovereign's wings. As the dragon glowers down at the traders, Tarvek demands, "State your business, traders. This is not a sanctioned trade route."

 

The Caravan comes to a screeching halt. The caravan-master, clamors out to the front. "We-- we were caught in a sandstorm, mighty one! We have been diverted from our course, and drive north, in the hopes we will find the sea and be able to orient ourselves, free from these trackless wastes!"

 

Verei! You've been scooped!

 

It's just as well.

 

Tarvek, his story sounds plausible; the weather has been unseasonably bad of late, as though the gods were angry.... come to think of it, you got them good and riled up a while back, didn't you?

 

Tsure, you're a freak of nature, the man is lying like a rug.

 

You're at range, you may not know what he's saying, but you can read body-language. He is lying like a bad toupee.

 

Verei, a resonant voice echoes in your ear: 'By now, I expect you will have found the caravan... '

 

Tsure whispers into Tarvek's ear, "Search them, but use whatever normal statute you can think of. I'm sure there's something fishy going on here, but we don't want to alert them unnecessarily."

 

Verei nods at her. "Usually I just say that I'm inspecting goods," he notes patiently, peeking down as he moves to land the machine, "Do you have a better cover story? You're better at this stuff than I am."

 

Ledaal Tarvek points his spear towards the north and the regular trade route from Chiaroscuro to Yane, "I will lead you back to the caravan routes. You say that a sandstorm drove you here?" Tarvek looks around slowly, as though searching for an errant god. "Stay close. We will guide you to safety."

 

"Chiaroscuro?" The caravan-master gapes in surprise. "I had no idea we had been drifted so far to the west! How far are we from the coast?"

 

"Tsch, no I'm not," Tsure says to Verei. "Just do your normal thing. I'm just a frilly dynast out for a joy ride on the serious fellow's route because I like fast rides. Right?"

 

Ledaal Tarvek replies, his voice tinny and resonant through the helm, "You are closer to Yane. The city of Stormwind is close by if you need to resupply. What was your destination, Caravan Master?" Sitting atop a dragon 70 feet tall, Tarvek looks down at the mortal as a Prince of the Earth should.

 

"It's funny that that's the complete opposite of the truth," Verei teases, "But then, that's what makes you so damn fun." The Dragonblood lands the machine, turning it off and hopping off the saddle before assuming his SRS BZNZ face. Fortunately, his visor hiding his face helps.

 

After a moment, he mumbles into the wind, 'I did.'

 

The Caravan master fidgets nervously as another sky-knight lands a crazy contraption right in front of him! "By the Dragons!"

 

The Caravan Master is in the middle of answering as Verei lands-- "We were bound for Kirighast, returning from a successful trading mission."

 

Verei shoulders his lance and offers his hand to Tsure, holding out his arm for her to enhance the image of a loose, thrill-seeking dynast with a stiff soldier.

 

Tsure gets off the skybird, standing behind Verei and fidgeting a bit nervously.

 

The Caravan-master looks to Verei/Tsure and then back to Tarvek. "Are these more members of your patrol?"

 

"Not at all," Verei replies sternly, "We're unrelated. We're from Chiaroscuro - out on a routine patrol. With...passenger." He tries to sound displeased at Tsure's presence. "You're a little lost, aren't you?"

 

He nods. "Yes, yes, horribly lost. Blown off course by a sandstorm. We would be grateful for an escort to the trade-roads along the coast."

 

Ledaal Tarvek remains silent as Verei speaks. The caravaners aren't going to forget he's there.

 

Even considering the desert heat, the man is sweating a bit much. He's clearly terrified. Of course, you know, giant freaking rocket-dragons and black drake things swooping down out of the sky to demand his itinerary is probably a bit stressful...

 

Attitude?

 

Verei frowns. "I see. You don't mind if I give your wares a lookover, do you? Standard procedure in a situation like this. Can't be too careful in the middle of a war and all."

 

One might wonder if Verei was really a dynast at all, considering he has all the subtlety of a wrecking ball.

 

Ledaal Tarvek turns his head towards Verei, the dragon helm concealing his face. As the Dynast wanders off to check wares, he turns his helm to Tsure, bowing it slowly, "...Lady Tsure. A surprise to see you out this far. And in such company."

 

"Oh yes, what *ARE" you bringing," Tsure asks, sounding a bit excited, and she moves forward a few steps to be up with Verei. "Anything terribly exciting I might get first dibs on?" She glances to Tarvek, "Oh, isn't he so handsome," she says putting a hand on his shoulder.

 

"What the hell is wrong with my company?" Verei grumbles at Tarvek, "At least I don't hang out with a damn lizard all day. There's this thing, it's called a social life, you should look into it." At that, he moves past the caravaneers to inspect their wares - after all, refusing such a request would get them arrested.

 

Tarvek: The Caravan master adresses you-- "Which one of you is in-charge here? I would know whom to direct my answers to."

 

Verei: The voice echoes in your ear: The 'who' should be obvious; you must concern yourself with the 'why' and the 'where.'

 

Tsure: Your senses are a credit to your house. I can't remember which house that is at the moment, but still, a credit. You can detect a rather large number of armed men inside the caravan wagons, and they appear to be rather heavily armed. Come to think of it, everyone in the convoy is carrying some rather high-quality weaponry. Military issue, to your judgment.

 

Ledaal Tarvek nods to the Caravan Master, "I am Lord Tarvek of Stormwind Cove, the Dragoon of Wind. I will escort you to safety when my counterpart, the Lord Verei, is done with his inspection. Be patient." At Verei's murmering, Sovereign shows teeth and growls, lowering his head a bit. Tarvek murmers, "Ignore his barbs. They are blunt."

 

The Caravan-master holds a hand out for Verei to stop "What is this?! Is this a robbery? Do you intend to steal from us the proceeds of our expedition?"

 

Verei looks from the hand, to the Caravan-master, a frown crossing his face - despite his visor hiding the vast majority of it, once can easily tell he's annoyed. "Are you stopping an official Legion investigation of your wares -and- insinuating that I'm planning to -rob- you?" He asks, shifting to face the man directly, lance over his shoulder.

 

Ledaal Tarvek casually replies from on high, "Lord Verei will take nothing." The tone is very even.

 

He continues to interpose himself. "I tell you we are returning laden with the fruits of a successful trading mission, and you demand to see our coin? What am I to think? What is the price we must pay for your 'protection'?"

 

"Those uh..." Tsure says looking over at the men, "I mean...I'm a connoisseur of all fine goods and those are some pretty nice swords you've got there, never can be to careful out here I guess?" She adds, trying to think of any way to subtlely alert Verei of the men in the caravan, but now he's gone off and run ahead so she meanders over to Tarvek, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. The hussy! While there she whispers, "There's more men inside, lots."

 

Verei frowns. "I'm not demanding to see your coin, I'm asking to see what you have in the caravan so I know you aren't bringing anything into Chiaroscuro that the Legion would object to. You're being awfully defensive for somebody who just got lost in the desert, you know." He taps his spear on his shoulder. "I think you're misunderstanding what I'm asking, though."

 

Ledaal Tarvek turns slightly towards Tsure, "We are Princes of the Earth. They could throw a thousand men at us and it would not be a fair battle." He starts to look forward again and pauses, "...Well, at me. Verei might be screwed."

 

"Ah! I see the source of your misunderstanding. We're not going to Chiaroscuro, we're going to Kirighast, to the East. And, come, now, what will it take for us to secure our passage safely, and unmolested, at least as far as the coast?"

 

Tsure gives a frustrated sigh and merely just crosses her arms, waiting to see how the actual military folk handle this.

 

"Look, I'm really not interested in your money," Verei sighs, scratching the side of his head, "I'm just trying to...listen, why don't you talk to him? I'm going to go make sure my passenger isn't getting upset. You know how rich people get when they get upset." He chuckles and heads back over to Tsure. "The heat's not bothering you, right? Not too boring or anything?"

 

"It is a bit warm, " Tsure agrees. "Maybe better that you just /take a look/ in the caravans," she says not at all subtlely through closed teeth, "And we can be on our way," and she stares at Verei with dagger-eyes of death.

 

Ledaal Tarvek, acting as Magistrate, bows his helmet to Tsure as Verei leads her away. At a mental urging, Sovereign rises back up to his full height, and Tarvekm speaks to the caravaners, "Your business does not concern me. But you stray too close to lands that are inviolate. I will lead you north. Deception will be dealt with...severely." And with that, he turns the entire dragon northwards, with colossal steps and a swing of its tail. Sovereign growls, remaining in place and waiting for the caravan to orient itself. He seems unconcerned of a potential ambush.

 

Verei nods, moving to kiss her cheek as an apology and turning away to, well, look in the caravan this time.

 

The caravan-master sighs in releif as Tarvek begins to back off.

 

Verei frowns and scratches his head briefly, moving (somewhat subtley) to get a better angle to see into the Caravans as he channels his essence into his eyes to hopefully pierce whatever veil might be present.

 

You can pick up that there are maybe twenty-five armed guards in the caravan, most of them in wagons, all of them armed with at least military grade weaponry and more than a little jade.

 

Verei frowns, murmuring something to Tsure through the power of the wind.

 

That's a lot of guards. Ambush?

 

Tsure nods to Verei, then lightly taps the chakrams at her side.

 

Ledaal Tarvek continues to wait. As an Air Aspect, he's always fairly cool, even in the blistering sun in armor.

 

Verei moves back over to his skydrake, swinging back on to investigate something thoughtfully - and, if necessary, kill the shit out of the ambush.

 

Oh, my, yes. You're now very glad you took that charm.

 

There is jade.

 

LOTS of jade.

 

A king's ransom, at the very least.

 

The guy wasn't lying about their cargo, but it's dubious a small trading mission of this size could have carried anything that would have been valuable enough to make this much profit

 

Also: Three of the caravan guards have jade armor, and the caravan master seems to have a jade powerbow.

 

Tsure runs up to the caravan, "Hey, uh, you never answered my question, about whether you had anything for sale, and uh, I couldn't help but notice you've got a ton of jade in there. Sorry," she says shrugging, "A girl notices things sometimes. I mean, like REALLY a lot," she says turning to Verei. "You must have, like, enough to feed an army in there. And for a while!"

 

Ledaal Tarvek turns his head towards the caravan. The dragon swings its giant head around as well, its ebon horns and spines glittering in the sun. The Dragon Knight says nothing, but is clearly listening to the caravaner's reply.

 

The caravan master re-tenses, clutching for something under wraps. Something bow-shaped? "No! Nothing for sale! We have sold our wares and are on our way back to port."

 

"Yeah, but I mean what could have possibly sold?" Tsure fires back, "I mean, you could easily buy...hmm...a handful of palatial estates with what you got in there. The only way that could really happen is if you're offloading a bunch of artifacts or something like that...and isn't that practice regulated I thought?" she asks, turning back to Verei as if for clarification.

 

"Oh, come on. Let me buy something for her, at least make this trip worthwhile." Verei smiles down at Tsure, catching her look. "I'm sure you've got something I could look at, right?" He winks at the caravan master, as if trying to say - come on, buddy, help me get laid here. He nods at Tsure. "Really strictly regulated," he confirms. "Really, -really- strictly."

 

He scowls. "Our routes and cargos are a closely guarded trade secret! If you are demanding jade, then be out with it!"

 

Ledaal Tarvek's lance extends to full length with a *SHNK* of jade. His helmet turns towards Verei, "Inspect the caravan. There will be no more delays." There -will- be no more delays. Tarvek is here on business, and his patience is at an end. Sovereign turns towards the Caravan, and lightning crackles across Tarvek's countenance. Bolts of lightning crackle across the flashing spear, and Sovereign growls deeply enough to shake the ground. His black wings unfurling to blot out the sun and his arm-sized talons uncurling, the dragon looms over the Master Caravaner.

 

Well, that is, in point of fact, rather convincingly intimidating. The carravan-master sputters in rage and terror "Die, Red dogs!" Do roll Join Battle, will you?

 

The Caravan master's face contorts in terror and rage, but there is a discipline to his movements as he leaps from the cart and begins to bob and weave hypnotically, whirling a bow from under a wrap. Those of you with Immaculate training (Tsure + anyone else?) should be able to recognize the signature of Unbreakable Fascination Kata-- a Wood Dragon power.

 

Tsure's is correct, even.

 

Tarvek is hypnotized by the slowly, strangely approaching caravan-master-- who clearly is a warrior of some significance. At the same time, a rather large Fire elemental WOOSHES into existence on the back of Verei's skydrake-apparatus.

 

Tick 1.

 

Tarvek is mesermized... But Sovereign isn't. As the Wood Stylist strides forward, confident, self assured, Sovereign lifts up his mighty head as though cowed... And *ROARS* hard enough to shake the earth as his maw opens to reveal hundreds of dagger sized teeth surrounding sword-length fangs. The tremendous sound rattles the dazed dragoon, and he focuses his essence inwards, trying to establish control. His mind knows it is captured. His body knows it cannot move. It just needs...to break.../free/.

 

Verei completely ignores the man, grabbing his lance in hand. There were very few things one couldn't do around Cathak Verei - very, very few, really, that would actually annoy him to the breaking point.

 

Trying to damage his machine was perhaps the biggest of them.

 

Enraged, Verei bursts into flame, a roar of fury erupting from his lips as he charges the Elemental. The smoke in his wake bursts forth, fourty yards exploding into smoke and ember and flame; slowly, the smoke congeals into humanoid shapes, each wielding weapons, each ready to kill, even as Verei leaps into the air and brings his now-flaming spear towards the Elemental's head.

 

"GET AWAY FROM MY DRAKE!" He roars at the top of his lungs. No one in the area would've seen him so angry as he descends like an angry bonfire, the entire area surrounded by his terrifying smoke warriors.

 

Tsure grumbles, "It is men like you that taint the necessity of our existence. You betray your virtues, your ideals, and your purpose to exploit those around your for a quick score, and you will be lucky if we kill you here today," she says, spreading her hands apart as she does so, then bringing them back together in a thunderous essence laden shockwave that knocks all but her companions to their butts...and probably causes some internal bleeding as well.

 

I'm not sure if it gets the excellency or not, but i want you to win, so let's say it does. The elemental SHREIKS in horror as your lightning rips through it, knocking it down to its -4 HL.

 

The cover is blown off the caravan!

 

Its horses are spooked, and also stunned. And the axels are broken. Fzoosh

 

Verei whips his spear around as he lands near his machine; his foot braces against the side, and he sprouts up once, burning as bright as the elemental as he whips the spear around towards the thing's side. "I TOLD you to GET OFF MY RIDE!" Verei roars again, shifting the spear mid-swing and cancelling the swing; his hand braces against the saddle as he spins the spear the other way in his hand - from swinging to stabbing - and jams it towards the elemental's side.

 

Ledaal Tarvek is angry. As he comes out of his daze, he looks down to find the Wood Stylist in a similar daze. His eyes narrow, his spear lifts, and Dragon and Rider strike as one, thunder cracking across the desert as lightning is invoked.

 

The Wood Guy is Incap but not dead, which leaves the two elite guards, who are on -2s from the Thunderclap Kata

 

So: That leaves us with an unconscious Wood-MAist, a dead elemental, 22 dead extras and two severely wounded DBs.

 

PCs have not taken damage.

 

One of the guards appears to be reaching for something in his belt-- a Chakram? Several Chakrams? Deadly blades of the five dragons hurl themselves at Tsure!

 

The other gestures and fire leaps from his fingertips to accost you. Elemental Bolt Attack!

 

Ledaal Tarvek hefts his spear as the Wood Stylist goes down and hurls it like lightning at the man with the chakrams, "This property is confiscated in the name of the Priory of the Elemental Dragoons." *THUNK* the spear punches through the man's chest to drive the statement home.

 

Verei leaps off his mount, spear clutched in both hands as he dives for the other surviving man. "Fuck you it is!" Verei shouts at Tarvek, "This stuff is claimed in the name of the Red Faction, and if you wanna complain about it," he continues, slamming the speartip through the man's head, "You talk to Zuriel about it! 'Priory of the Elemental Dragoons', what a load of," he rips the spear backwards, "Bullshit." He wipes the spear off on the corpse's clothes. "How many ways do you need to say you have no social life?"

 

And as the sun sinks below the Horizon, our heroes are left with nothing but wreckage, and their petty squabbles.

 

And lots, and lots of jade.

 

Lots.

 

Seriously.

 

.... wonder what it was for?

 

Ledaal Tarvek turns his helmet towards Verei, his tone even, "We are within the bounds of my territorial holdings of Stormwind Cove and the Priory. Are you contesting my sovereignty?" The dragon's head swings around, glaring at Verei. It's technically his property too.

 

"Are you fucking serious?" Tsure says to Tarvek, "Tell ya what, why don't I take my immaculate training back, rewind time, and you can handle all these guys solo. Hath greed sunken that far into all our hearts that we cannot push all these resources to the furthering of our goals?"

 

"Damn," Verei chirps at Tsure, "I'm suddenly reminded of why I'm so attracted to you."

 

Ledaal Tarvek furrows his brow, "We aren't exactly a charity organization here. I have to guard the entire coast for nearly five hundred miles with a handful of soldiers and a dragon."

 

Tsure thinks for a moment, pursing her lips, "Provide full accountability of every scrip of jade there, and I have no problems with it at all," she says.

 

Ledaal Tarvek bows his head, "It shall be done. And I assure you Lord Zuriel will have his taxes. This could be a boon for our operations here."