Tales of the exiles

The Exiles

Timu-iki
The sand felt good beneath his bare toes. It burned just enough to let him know it was hot, but it was not unbearable. He enjoyed walking through the giant dunes of sand barefoot. When he closed his eyes and the breeze blew gently it reminded him of his youth behind the walls of the Coral Monastery. It had been ten years since he left the safety of the walls for the wide open spaces of the world.

Iris
It was hot as sin. It was hot but we were alive. I hadn't had time to think it through just yet. I had gotten careless and sloppy somewhere along the line. We'd be back to Amn one day. Totentanz and I both. It would be good to have my best fighter and bodyguard to watch my back while I planned our next move. For now though, the plan was to put as many footsteps in between us and Amn as possible. At least it was a dry heat.

Magnus
It has been months since losing R'huaric. I went back to a life of wandering and odd jobs. I found myself here in the great Calimshan desert escorting refugees, merchants, and pilgrims. It wasn't glorious but I wasn't exactly looking for glory. I'd stopped wearing armor long ago and quite frankly have no clue how'd I'd have made it through the soft sand wearing armor anyways. Mathilda was safe as ever by my side. The maul doubled as a walking staff and otherwise handy tool for the wagons when they lost a wheel or busted An axle. The best part about a job guarding outcasts was no one wondered why the dwarf shaved every morning.

Eve
She rarely looked down at her feet. She was rarely in the company of others. When she did speak she only spoke with the other guardsmen. Only on a rare occasion she would speak to a few of the refugee mothers. Her hair was the color of flame and it contrasted her dark tanned skin from years under the Calimshan sun. It was an odd sight to see a tanned Goliath where so many of her people were pale skinned tattooed behemoths.  There was little anyone knew about the woman called Eve. It was rumored she was the highest paid of guardsman in all the caravan. She carried a greatsword across her back and she knew how to use it. The one thing no one doubted was she was worth every penny they were paying her.

Tobias
His robes were once white. The black enamel in his armor had been marred by far too many chips. The gold leaf filigree had long since flaked away. The desert took its toll upon the man's exterior, but he otherwise did not seem bothered by the heat or the long miles the caravan walked each day. He kept to himself, perhaps not of his own volition. He kept his nose into a book each day. It was more than likely that what really kept the people at distance was the skulls and scales motifs that adorned his armor robes and weapons.

Totentaz
He never left the halfling's side longer than it took her to dress each morning. His bronze scales glinted in the morning light, and seemed ablaze during the sunsets. Where others seemed sapped and exhausted at the end of the long days march in the sun the dragonborn seemed rejuvenated. Refugees noticed a distinct sadness about him, though many confessed to never having seen dragonborn before. He cared for the halfling woman like a child, carrying her when she grew tired. However, he also followed her commands and addressed her as if she was a high born noble. He himself walked the sands with the posture and gait the way a person who is used to marble hallways does. This dragonborn was a lowly pit fighter from Amn. Some had recognized the dragonborn the bettors called "The Death Dancer".

Alston

You noticed the camel far before you noticed the gnome riding it. The camel was covered in all manner of gears and gadgets. Among the many moving parts there was: a folding expanding parasol to keep the sun out of the rider's face, a folding extending ladder so the small rider could climb into the saddle, the saddle itself was more of a cushioned easy chair, a steam powered hookah, the reins and bridle actually ended in a sort of small ships wheel, so the rider could steer like a ship, rather than the way a normal horse and rider turned.  The gnome himself was dressed in the style of the Calimshan desert complete with golden silk turban. He was an arrogant foppish man, but he paid for his place in the caravan and he kept the children entertained with his magic tricks. As long as the fathers kept their wives and eldest daughters away from him no one seemed to mind the outlandish gnome.

Basia

She came out of the desert one morning and joined the caravan. The caravan already consisted of all matter of rabble from all over Toril. So when the genasi woman with orange skin, and dusty clothes walked across the sand and joined the journey no one seemed to notice. Her clothes simple, the cloth robes of an ascetic. Slightly tattered and very dirty. She seemed tired as if she had not slept for several days.