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Loro is a young, fit half-elf of about 5'6", average for his people, but short for most human groups. He's lithe, but more muscular than a standard elf, and his sharp facial features indicate an exotic lineage. Loro's dark coppery eyes and golden hue to his skin suggest perhaps some Wood Elf in his ancestry, while his seemingly naturally spikey hair is a deep green which could be mistaken for black in low light. His armor is skant and mostly brown leathers and deep green cloth, revealing much of his toned body. His expression is usually serious and his demeanor determined.
Loro is a young, fit half-elf of about 5'6", average for his people, but short for most human groups. He's lithe, but more muscular than a standard elf, and his sharp facial features indicate an exotic lineage. Loro's dark coppery eyes and golden hue to his skin suggest perhaps some Wood Elf in his ancestry, while his seemingly naturally spikey hair is a deep green which could be mistaken for black in low light. His armor is skant and mostly brown leathers and deep green cloth, revealing much of his toned body. His expression is usually serious and his demeanor determined.
The Wizard's Gift A gentle wind blew across the early evening desert as a loan cloaked figure veered course to intersect with a crude road along the last vestiges of rockier terrain. They trudged quickly through the sand, then picked up their pace to a light jog once they got to firmer land. The city of Harran loomed over the horizon, located at the edge of the dessert and providing shelter, water, and trade opportunities for most anyone who'd crossed the bleak hot sands. The hooded figure looked both ways, and seeing nothing in the opposite direction, jogged off towards the reddish walls of Harran.
- - -
Messengers had delivered notices to most of the guild and mercenary posting boards in the entire region. There was currently surge in slaver activity, greater than in any living memory. While it was known slaver caravans harvested and did business in the desert, somewhat outside the reach of normal law enforcement, these raiding parties had hit almost all the smaller towns in the near desert as well as the borderlands. They were now traveling farther and farther, even to the forest and marshlands between the desert and the ocean, avoiding cities and larger towns with armed militias. Settlements, both human and non-human, who'd never been touched by desert slavers were caught completely unawares.
As larger establishments were unwilling to spare help to protect widely-dispersed smaller towns, they'd banded together to pool their funds to offer rewards for information as to where their abducted citizens had been taken, or even to end whatever was going on to produce such a demand. Small adventuring and guild groups had already headed out into the burning sands, yet to return. Harran was suggested for lone adventurers to meet up to work together and try their luck where others had apparently failed, or been taken as slaves, themselves.
- - -
The green-cloaked figure reached the first of the outlying buildings and headed straight for a well. Few of the dusty souls sitting outside the city walls took much notice of him. As he stepped under a ramshackle shelter over the crude well, he flipped back his hood to reveal a pleasant but sweaty face that looked a bit out of place in this parched region. Strong slim arms turned the crank, lifting the bucket in the well, and he drank ravenously when it reached the top, spilling half the water down his neck and tight, heaving chest and stomach. The half-elf drew a second bucket and poured it over his wild green hair, washing more sweat and dust off himself before more carefully drinking the second half. He was still breathing heavily from jogging almost non-stop for hours, but his body was starting to calm. Dark copper eyes finally took a look around, seeing little other than shacks and lean-tos for shade and the quick business before entering the city. There was a notice board, and the young adventurer dropped the bucket back down the well before reading the postings.
"Harran.." he said to himself before taking another look at the city walls, looking about as hot and bleak as the desert he recently left. He'd heard of Harran, but he'd never been. He knew of the reward regarding the slavers as his village had contributed some of their meager riches after the first time they'd been raided. The second time had been this morning.. and he knew where they were spending the night. But as brave and eager as he was, Loro knew that going in alone was suicide, or would guarantee his own enslavement. He needed help.
Dump for stuff I can't upload to PMs.
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