Tomb be Continued

[rassafraggin]

Maggie's camel must have been one of those skittish creatures. It would not stay near Ashby despite Maggie's intent. It shied this way, then that and gallumphed off a ways. Sadly, Maggie missed most of the conversation and activity centered around Gaval's father. She did not miss the horrible, movie villian laughter and, sadly, neither did her mount. Finally, just as the moon begins to show above and the monsterous excuse for a parental unit has gone, Maggie is able to bring her mount back to the group. Her expression is one that has been schooled to a stormy patience. The beast she rides does not even deign to look sheepish.

For those with a sense for danger a familiar prickling along shoulders or hair on the neck..perhaps an itch of the nose. Whatever it is it occurs.

For those with keen senses or above average perceptions there are things moving out in the night. And not just shadows anymore. At least three somethings most likely. More if they are skulking well.

And like from the shadow of the night, comes what looks to be a man, wearing dark attire that covers his features, beltcape lifting from the hips to waist while he wears a hood, golden luminescent eyes watching the people while he comes up to the group, shadows dancing around him, cloaking him while they begin to shift away, then looking into the night. He points a bit to Autumn, then to Ruby. "Would you explain the situation?" The voice is a husky drawling purr.

The hair rising on the back of her neck, the sense of danger approaching, has Autumn clutching an ancient dagger in one hand as silver whip appears in her other hand as she utters a command. When the cloaked figure appears, she hisses a curse in a dead language. "Careful, he who approaches, be the of Umm or another, what or who walks in the shadows in the sea of sand?" This is said in Alhambrian to the new person. She looks then to Ruby, then quickly looks to Maggie and her camel, "Are you and the beast well?" She asks her in Thari.

Harumph! A gift had been offered to the beast and it had been rejected! For shame! Proof that horses are clearly better! What he would give for his own right about now! Ashby doesn't even try to hide his indignation at the camel, furrowing his brow and staring it down as he takes another, very pointed, crunch of his apple. Dead to him, that camel is! A pox on all your houses! Motion out in the distance has his head snapping over in that direction, the camel no longer the greatest priority of the moment. Blue eyes narrow and he takes a slower crunch before saying aloud with a slice of apple tucked to the side of his mouth, "We've some company approaching. The hairs on the back of my neck are voicing a general opinion of them, I should say." As someone else materializes nearby, they get an appraising glance with those narrowed eyes now directed upon them without a word being uttered until after Autumn finished updating them on the situation. "You know this one, I take it?"

Ruby raises her hands and places her palms against her eyes, nested in their sockets, fingers raised like facsimilies of comically big eyelashes. She presses against her peeky orbs with massaging motions, her head bowed in a prayer to the Beings of no-brain-ouchies. "There be...a lot...tah take in..." She's still in the land of spastic ocular fireworks behind closed eyelids when a new voice is among them. Blinking, she unobscures one peeper to search out the source. Pregnant pause. "...al Black?"

Merri and Camelpy have been there and back again, if just briefly, as they jogged a short ways after Maggie, saw her getting her mount turned upside-right and backwards-down, then meandered back once it looked like things were generally under control. He knew she could do it. Eyeing the newest cloaked figure to wander out of the darkness, Merrisol slides off the saddleback and joins the others on foot to get the consensus on their next move.

Merek looks to the people all gathered about, while he seems to consider from beneath the hood. "It is as Ruby said," he states, while he thinks about it. "Name me as you wish, to those that call me friend, I'm known to be Merek, Prince of Alhambra." The wording, anyone that knows that names are often power, would know he's using language to not give the full title. He answers within the Amberite language. Those that notice will note that Chaos follows the man, though well managed, in that he does not seem to be crazy. Not noticably.

Gaval looks up and about slowly. Eyes darting to Merek as he arrives and then glancing back out to the shapes in the dark. "We stick out too much here. We should move soon. Towards the center where we were going." At Merek's introduction he raises a brow but says nothing. "I know not what brought you Prince but this is not a good place to be currently. And likely not going to get any safer any time soon." He starts walking off to where they were headed, reaching over his shoulder and drawing his starblade again.

Maggie may well have noticed Merrisol coming after her mount. In either case, he gets a smile. Autumn wins a smile as well, "We have come to an understanding, I think." The camel is silent on that declairation. Time will tell. Catching Autumn's meaning, she glances around the lightening darkness surrounding them in search of what is coming. But her gaze pauses when the cloaked fellow appears. She inhales, her nose twitching at what she smells. Or senses. Moving slowly, she dismounts, one hand lingering on her sword, the other holding the camel's lead. Her chin lifts and she seems about to address the man, but Gaval has a good point. For an instant, she studies Merek, assessing him based on his words, his body language and that not-so-effemeral scent. After a moment, she nods for others to go before her, "I'll take up the rear." So she can make sure that their party makes it. "Let's move."

"Thank you Maggie," Autumn says this with a slight bow of her head. She then looks at the others and then looks to Gaval and nods her head. With another uttered word of arcanis the the whip disappears but the dagger remains in her hand. She trots after Gaval, ready to move forward another sideward glance is given to the traveler who is now called a Prince of Alhambra.

Ruby is more than happy to resume momentum and grinding her heels and insteps into the sand somewhere within the camel convoy. She murmers, "There's no toimes tha explain fully, but I can say for sure this ain't a place tah linger, loike what was said by smarter sensitive folks. Maybe when we gots leagues between us an these pyramids."

Nonplussed by the terse, rather one-sided introductions, Merrisol shrugs a bit as he nods faintly in greeting to Merek, unsurprised after all that Ruby seems to have met just about everyone at one point or another. "Merrisol," he responds plainly with his own all-purpose-name, before turning to grab the reins of nearby unattached camels. He walks to the side of the caravan, following Gaval's lead.

Merek seems a bit thoughtful about the place, while he nods a bit. He then looks to Maggie, "The Amber Family keeps a Trump of me, I wouldn't worry about it," he notes, while he walks along with the party, "I will assist in any way I can, to protect the Surat."

Maggie nods to Autumn, "You are welcome." She glances at Merrisol when he provides his moniker, then frowns at herself. Turning to Merrek as she fades toward the back she nods once, "The Amber family holds many Trumps. But I do take your meaning." Just before she passes the new addition to their party, she slides a glance to Ruby. Again, it is assessing, but more friendly-like. Turning to head to the back, she adds, "I am Maggie." Her feet crunch through the sand and she draws her saber, holding it ready. In case.