On the deck of the sand boat is much activity. Toward the rear of the deck is a cabin, made of bone and patched hide, leading down to the belowdecks … its door open, and before the doorway standing a large, muscular being in ragged attire, adorned with all sorts of medals … medals and emblems consisting of … junk. Spoons, forks, small cogwheels … are those bottlecaps and pop tops, too?

His three heads – one resembling a goat's, another a lion's, and the middle a reptile's – are currently facing something big and remotely round that is rolling his way … a big pile of cloaked scavengers all netted together by means of the ship's deck-mounted "ballista". The three underlings standing near their boss scatter in different directions. The boss's three heads yank off different ways, too … but the body seems paralyzed with indecision!

Meanwhile, Kazhir do Varomanov, a fancy (but currently crud-encrusted) poodle, has loaded the ballista, and has just pulled the lever. Unfortunately, he hasn't bothered to re-aim it … and it's currently pointed right at Jarik and Zoltan. *KLICK*

Jarik thinks. o O { Oh please work… }

Jarik's ear swivels, "Did you hear something, Zoltan?"

Zoltan watches the ball rolling towards the boss… his ears perk at the sudden sound from the ballista.

*SPROING!* "YELP!"

Jarik turns around… !

The fox looks directly at the ballista.

The ballista's loaded "bolt" immediately explodes, popping out in three directions at once, a net exploding over the ballista, the poodle, and the exhausted artillery crew sprawled around its base.

Zoltan acks! He grabs Jarik by his shirt collar and looks as though he's about to leap backwards.

Meanwhile, there are several shrieks and a crash from behind Jarik – as the "scavenger ball" smashes into the big boss … and rolls over him, bounces against the cabin, rolls the other way…

Jarik stumbles backwards when Zoltan grabs him… He blinks when the bolt explodes, and laughs…

… The ball is coming BACK!

The hippogryph stares dumbly at Kazhir, then blinkblinks at the rolling ball and leaps sideways!

The ship rocks and bounces as it goes over a small dune. Meanwhile, the poodle yelps and struggles with the net that has him entrapped. "This isn't supposed to HAPPEN!"

Jarik turns and discovers the ball is headed right toward them… "Zoltan, RUN!"

The ball keeps rolling inexorably toward Jarik. The big boss can be seen rolling over the top, all three heads sounding out – bleating, roaring and hissing.

Jarik follows Zoltan rather quickly…

Kazhir's eyes go wide at the big ball rolling toward him. "AIEEEEEEEEEE!" *CRASH*

Zoltan squawks to Jarik, "We is need to get whole thing off ship before they gets loose!"

Jarik nodnods! "Let'stry to push it over the edge!"

The three-headed big boss squirms, pinned underneath the ball, and tangled in the other net as well. All three heads moan and groan. Meanwhile, a multitude of hands and legs are poking out of the net, kicking and flailing about.

Zoltan winces at the spot where Kazhir used to be standing.

Jarik runs toward the ball, "Come on! Let's dump this crew over the side!"

Zoltan bounds after Jarik.

The ship hits another bump. It's now going uphill.

The ball begins to move. It's going downhill.

Jarik puts his sword away…

The ball WAS uphill. Jarik and Zoltan are downhill. This could be bad.

"Hey poodle! Where is you?" scrawks Zoltan.

Jarik yipes! And moves to the side, hoping he can avoid the ball again…

As the ball starts bouncing and rolling, the three-headed boss vanishes underneath … and then a poodle appears on top, tangled in a net. "YELP!" Rollrollroll. Several exclamations of pain emit from the interior of the netted ball.

Zoltan leaps upwards, grabbing onto some of the rigging ropes.

Jarik rolls his eyes, "Great! Now we have to get Kazhir out of the ball before we get rid of it!"

The giant ball bounces against a couple of poles (Ow. That's GOT to hurt.) before settling against the cabin again.

Zoltan looks down at Jarik, then grins as the ball stops.

The ship is making its way up a particularly large dune – or "wave", if you prefer, keeping with the "Sea of Sand" analogy.

Jarik approaches the ball slowly… He examines it as he approaches, looking for the poodle…

Zoltan rushes over to the ball, "Hurry, they gets loose soon… or ball starts rolling again."

The poodle isn't visible. He must be underneath, or on the side against the cabin … or maybe up on top and back a bit. This IS one big tangle. (Pity the ones stuck in the middle!)

The ballista, back at the fore, is badly mangled, and presently useless. There's no sign of the artillery crew up there … or of the three underlings who scattered earlier.

Jarik calls out, "Kazhir… ?!?"

Zoltan acks at the incoming dune! He glances around for an open spot on the deck where the critterball can get chucked over.

The deck isn't exactly built for safety standards. While there are bits of railing here and there – totally mismatched, and likely salvaged from other ships – there are also plenty of gaps.

There's a ratcheting sound from the side of the deck, and some coils of rope run loose. The ship's "lifeboat" has been dropped. The ropes fly free, and a smaller sled skids off, bearing a handful of cowled scavengers.

Zoltan squawks, "Start rolling… poodle must be in here somewhere." He starts nudging the ball towards one of the gaps.

Jarik nods to Zoltan and pushes against the ball…

The strong hippogryph – with the help of Jarik – gets the ball rolling. There's a YELP! as the poodle zips by … and the ball rolls on!

There's a bounce, and the ball goes flying … off the same side of the deck as the escaping liferaft.

Jarik yipes! "Kazhir!"

Jarik runs after the ball…

Unless Jarik can fly – or is willing to dive off the edge – his chances of catching the ball are pretty much nil.

Jarik looks for a good long piece of rope…

Zoltan peers over the edge. He glances at Jarik. "You want me to go down and fetch white poodle friend?"

The ball crashes into the escaping liferaft, prompting several shrieks and squeals, and is left quickly behind the sailing craft, which crests the dune and begins descending to the other side.

The last that can be seen of the scene is the whole mess starting to sink slowly into the Sea of Sand.

Jarik nodnods! "If you can!"

Jarik says, "Hurry! We can't leave him!"

Zoltan dives over the edge after the ball. Hoping to reach it before it completely sinks.

The ball is still taking time to descend … roughly an inch per second. There are wails and cries of anguish from within the netting, as the helpless scavengers sink to their doom.

Zoltan thinks, . o O ( The white dog is more trouble than he's worth. Hrr. I'll have to ask the fox how on Sinai he ended up with such company. )

Just above the level of the sand can be seen a couple of kicking legs and a tail that probably belongs to a poodle.

Zoltan hovers over the net, he looks down after the poodle.

Zoltan a-hahs! He grabs a poodle leg and PULLS!

The poodle doesn't look like he's going anywhere … except down. Several hands poke out from the netting, many voices babbling pleas in an unintelligible tongue.

Jarik paces on the deck of the ship. o O { Hurry… }

Meanwhile, back on the ship, several more cowled figures emerge from the cabin door! Only these are a bit smaller. (And the scavengers were for the most part pretty short already.) They all rush to the side railing, looking back toward the disappearing ball, wailing and crying.

Jarik's eyes widen. o O { Oh no… }

The poodle is quite a task to pull free, what with the tangle around him, but at last, with a loud SHLORP (or something to that effect), he pulls free, spitting out sand and yapping and yelping.

Zoltan shouts up at Jarik, "Any sand shoes up there? Or boat? I try to rip open net… you drop them down!"

Jarik is well beyond shouting distance by now, though, and sailing away at a good clip.

Who's … controlling this ship, anyway?

Zoltan growls, he hauls up the poodle onto his back and hacks at the net with his talons… hoping to free the captives if he can.

Jarik looks around for another liferaft… He realizes there's no way to pilot this ship without a crew…

The netting splits open, and the force of the struggling captives is enough to break it the rest of the way … spilling the contents outward in a big squirming, ragged mass.

Zoltan thinks, . o O ( I can catch the ship later. )

Jarik shouts at the smaller, cowled group, "You! Can you stop this ship?!?"

There's a similar raft to the one that had been let free earlier on the other side of the deck.

Jarik goes over to the raft and examines it…

The smaller figures turn back toward Jarik, let out cries of fright, and start scrambling every which way on the deck, quickly disappearing in every available nook and cranny.

Meanwhile, back at the mess with Zoltan, the scavengers have started rolling onto the Sea of Sand, spreading out their arms and legs like starfish.

Zoltan hovers over the group for a moment, then zooms after the ship, squawking and screeching… "We don't have much time!" he scrawks… forgetting to even speak in trade tongue.

The kooshkie sleds, which were spread out earlier, begin to zero in on what was formerly a netted ball full of squirming scavengers. Little mounds in the sand attest to the presence of the strange teams that pull them along.

Jarik checks the raft for supplies and the like. { We need a ship… this one may work… As for the large ship… perhaps we could stop it. That would give us time to escape… } O o . he thinks.

The raft is totally devoid of supplies. Considering its construction, one would do better to just hope that it can float.

The ship is starting to veer, and lean to one side. Ratcheting sounds can be heard emitting from somewhere.

Jarik looks for a way to lower the raft…

Zoltan roughly grabs Kazhir's arms as he zooms back to the ship.

It would appear there's a lever to release a cogwheel – made of bone? or shell … – which probably has something to do with lowering the raft.

Kazhir sputters and yelps as he watches the sand fly by far below. "Ooooooohhhh!" he moans.

Jarik looks around the deck one more time before hopping into the raft and kicking the lever…

The raft abruptly DROPS … with Jarik on board. There's a hard landing and a skid, and soon the ship is zooming on without him, while his little raft sits on the surface of the sand.

Jarik examines the raft again. o O{ Now, how does this thing move… ? }

It doesn't appear that the raft is any more mobile than the platform which was the last remaining bit of the Lalee-Papu. No sails. No oars. No harnessed Gooshurms.

Jarik hrms, "Great… "

Zoltan looks at Jarik, then at the larger ship. He glides down to the raft and deposits his passenger. "What you want do now," He squawks down at Jarik. "I think I can catch ship if I hurry. Maybe we can stop it."

The poodle, a nervous shaking wreck, clutches to the rim of the raft-boat.

Zoltan says, "I have to leave one of you here if I does."

Jarik thinks… "No… I have an idea. Zoltan, face the other direction and kneel down… Dig your claws into the raft and spread your wings… We may be able to use you as a sail… "

Zoltan sighs… watching the ship leave. "Sail where? We gots no supplies… not last very long without water."

Jarik rubs his neck, "We won't last very long on that ship either. There is more crew aboard. It was turning when I left it… "

Jarik thinks… "Perhaps you could go scavange some supplies from the ship though… We need some rope, water, and food… "

Zoltan glances at the ship… perhaps it's turning around?

Jarik says, "If you were fast, that is."

The ship doesn't look like it's turning, so much as tipping precariously to one side and threatening to spill over.

Zoltan erks!

Jarik checks on Kazhir, "Are you alright?"

Zoltan hmmms… he stands back up and gets ready to fly again… maybe there's a chance he could stop the thing. Or at least scavenge a few things from it before the whole thing tips into the sand.

The poodle just shudders and shivers in response. His body language (and wide eyes) should be answer enough.

Zoltan glances ta Jarik, "I be right backs!" He leaps back into the air after the ship.

Jarik watches Zoltan take off. He sits down on the deck of the raft. "Just once I'd like to have a nice, calm, trip."

The ship, lurching and turning, isn't going quite so swiftly now, and it does not take long for the hippogryph to catch up.

Zoltan lands on the deck. He glances around… looking for anything that might be used to control the ship.

There is a control that looks much like a steering wheel on a regular sea vessel. There is a very small scavenger spinning round and round on the wheel, apparently failing at trying to control the thing himself. "Aaaaaaaaaaa!"

Zoltan thinks, . o O ( We's get to civilization faster and safer if I could get control of this thing. )

At last, the critter loses his grip, and goes flying … right into a pile of other small critters. (This must not have been the first attempt.)

Zoltan brightens as he spots the wheel. He rushes over and grabs it… digging his hooves into the deck and straining.

The strong hippogryph has much better luck with restraining the wheel. It stops. The ship is still lurching dangerously, however.

Zoltan tries yanking the wheel the other way.

The poodle pants heavily. "GAH! Oh! Shade! Water! I'm DYYYYYING!"

Jarik looks at the poodle, "No you're not."

"Well, it's certainly unpleasant," the poodle yaps.

It takes several cranks, and for a bit it seems as if the ship is doomed for sure … but at last, it's back under control. In fact, by the momentum of the movement, Zoltan seems to have the ship bearing in a gradual arc.

The smaller scavengers start scurrying about the deck, in a frenzy of motion, calling out strange phrases and words to each other, struggling with ropes, cranking on cranks.

The sails drop, and the ship continues sailing, though slowing, back into the wind for a way … and then catching the downhill slope. NOW it's moving!

Jarik tries to see what the ship is doing…

The ship is moving. This way. Fast.

Zoltan acks! He struggles with the wheel and tries to keep the ship steady. (How do you STOP this thing?)

Jarik's eyes widen, he hopes he's not in it's path…

It's hard to tell. It DOES seem to be heading this general direction … but the ship is wavering and swerving a bit. Hard to tell if it's going to miss or not, or by how far.

Jarik glances at the poodle, "The adventure isn't over yet… " He gets to his feet.

Zoltan glances around the deck… remembering the ladders that the critters climbed down on… maybe he could throw one out to Jarik.

The poodle staggers to his feet. "Uh oh," he says, at the sight of the oncoming ship. Hmm. Perhaps it IS going to cut it a bit close…

"After this over… I never ever EVER leave Rephidim again!" Zoltan squawks loudly, to nobody in particular.

Jarik looks at the poodle, "I think one of us must be cursed… "

The poodle points at Jarik. "It's YOU! Not ME! YOU YOU YOU!"

Jarik nods, "I think I agree… "

Jarik looks at the ship, is there anything hanging off it he could grab… ?

Just about then, the ship swerves away from the raft … but a big grinning skull ski comes to bear. The tip scoops under the raft … and launches it into the air!

The poodle screams as he goes flying through the air, limbs flailing!

Jarik aaaiiieeeees! Airborne again!

Zoltan urghs… if he lets go of the wheel the ship might tip over again. Where's the fox and the poodle?

"OOF!" The poodle hits the deck. How convenient! But painful.

Jarik flails, trying to grab anything in reach!

Zoltan blinks as the poodle appears on the deck.

A bunch of rigging comes to hand. The ropes sway and bob as a fox suddenly is ensnared in them.

The poodle just lays there, sprawled out, moaning.

Jarik hangs from the rigging upsidedown. How undignified.

At last, the ship begins to go uphill again … slowing … slowing … and stops on the crest.

Jarik tries to pull himself upright and detangle himself from the rigging.

The wind howls as it whips across the ship. A crowd of sand-shoe-borne scavengers can be seen making their way ahead now, flanked by kooshkie sleds. The dune that the ship is on seems, oddly enough, to be settling and sinking … and moving.

Jarik yipes! "Zoltan! Turn us around! We've got to get moving!"

Zoltan fumbles with the wheel, he glances at the sails… tryng to figure out how to open them again.

The smaller scavengers who are on the ship now are all toward the fore deck, leaning over the spots of railing, waving their hands and calling out to the approaching crowd.

Jarik climbs down the rigging, "We've got to get moving… " He then notices that the sails are down… "Kazhir! You're used to ships, how do we lower the sails??"

The poodle only moans in reply, "Have the crew hands do it… "

Jarik looks up at the sails… Perhaps he could cut them free…

Zoltan points to the ropes and cranks he saw the critters using. "Try those! Saw them use before sails go down."

Jarik looks at the cranks… "Kazhir, get off your butt and get to one of the cranks… " The fox then dashes to the closest one and tries to operate it…

The smaller scavengers start tossing rope ladders off the sides of the deck.

The poodle lays there and moans. "In a bit. Just let me … rest a bit. OOOOooooo… "

Jarik says, "Not in a bit… NOW!!!! Unless you want to end up in a ball again!"

Zoltan acks! He abandons the wheel and dives after the scavengers, "BOOGABOOGABOOGA!"

The poodle whines and whimpers.

The smaller scavengers squeal and scatter. But their larger friends (that is, relatively large – they're still short) are making their way up the rope ladders now.

Jarik says, "Zoltan! Cut the ladders loose!"

Jarik keeps working on the sails, trying to get them up…

Zoltan tries to claw the ropes off.

This prompts several cries from the ones on the ladder in question, but others are already making it back up on deck. The smaller scavengers go running up to them.

Jarik abandons the crank and runs to the closest ladder. In an instant, his sword is free from the scabbard. He brings it down on the rope ladder…

Suddenly … there's a fish in Zoltan's face.

Zoltan erks?

The holder of the fish wags it in Zoltan's face, saying something undecipherable. Others are nearby, lying prostrate on the deck, chanting something.

Zoltan takes the proffered fish… he looks QUITE confused.

Jarik stops and blinks at the odd offering to Zoltan, "What the… "

The one who was holding the fish immediately drops to the deck, raising and lowering his hands, wiggling his fingers, babbling something just as unintelligible as before.

Soon, scavengers are doing the same around Jarik. (He gets offered a fish, too.)

Zoltan grins at Jarik, "I think they like us now!"

Jarik takes the fish, "This is… weird."

The three-headed big boss climbs up on the deck. The goat head is bawling, the lion head looks ornery, and the reptile head looks penitent, babbling off a long stream of phrases, stopping every few steps to bow and clasp his hands together.

Jarik tilts his head, "We throw them off their own ship, leave them behind, try to throw them off again… And they stick fish in our faces?"

Zoltan replies, "Is better than sinking in sand, or waiting in broken raft."

A threesome of robed figures – the same underlings who were on the ill-fated raft, stagger on board, and encircle the big boss. They look as if they have been severely pummelled, and are carrying a bit of the desert with them, still spilling out of the folds of their robes.

Zoltan looks at the fish… trying to decide if he's supposed to eat it, or if it's even edible. "Maybe they happy we save ship? Who knows… weird people maybe have weird custom."

The fish might perhaps be edible. It must have been dried or something. Or maybe it's not a fish at all, though it looks a lot like one. It DOES look exotic. And dead.

Jarik says, "Well… We can't pilot this ship on our own. I hope this is a peace offering… "

The three-headed big boss is now on his knees, babbling in three voices. The three underlings hobble up. One has a reddish horn sticking out of the top of its cowl. The other has FIVE horns sticking through the cowl … yellow, with red stripes painted on them.

Zoltan sniff at the fish, he licks it experimentally and keeps his eyes on the sand folks… hoping to read whether or not he's doing this correctly.

The third has a long pointy ear poking out one end of the cowl, with an earring consisting of a small cogwheel dangling from it. The other ear is entirely mismatched, looking more like it belongs on a mouse. A large mouse, that is.

Jarik tries to speak to the boss, "Um, do any of you speak the trade language?"

The fish tastes salty. The sand folks don't appear to be horrified or anything. They're still chanting and bowing repeatedly before Zoltan and Jarik. The poodle, however, is being largely ignored.

Jarik sniffs the fish…

The five-horned underling shuffles up. Three glints of color can be seen under the cowl … and a big green beak. "Trade language!" the five-horned one squawks.

Zoltan shrugs, and bites of a chunk.

Jarik smiles! "Finally! Can you understand me?"

The red-horned one walks up beside, and nods. "Yes," this one says. Underneath the cowl can be seen a flash of purple and white … and a fox muzzle? The third one with the mismatched ears just grunts, crossing his arms, folding them underneath a collection of utensils and pop-tops clipped to his robes.

Jarik remembers… He puts his sword away.

Zoltan gulps down the fish. "Who are you?" He squawks at red horn.

Zoltan's fish tastes pretty good, actually. Maybe a touch too salty, but good.

Jarik nods, "We're just trying to survive… You destroyed our ship then attacked us. We just want to reach a city."

Jarik tries to see under the cowl…

Underneath red-horn's cowl can be seen a face which is a mish-mash of various features … a mostly vulpine face, but with purple fur where it should be red, and with a big black spot around one eye. The eyes are golden, with slit pupils … and two more red horns jut out from the cheekrufts, while a snaggletooth pokes out one side of a lopsided grin. Strands of long black hair drape down from the forehead.

Jarik says, "You're… a fox?"

Red-horn clasps her hands together and bows. "We humbly apologize. We make amends." She blinks. "No. I am Nohbakim. As are we all."

Zoltan thinks, . o O ( Ugliest fox I've ever seen. )

Zoltan glances over at the poodle.

Five-horn squawks, "Yes! Apologize greatly. Many sorries. Put ship back together, put you back on sand, yes? Make happy? Sorry sorry."

Jarik nods, "I'm sorry about dropping you off the ship… But, we've not had a very good past few days. Our airship exploded… I was attacked by Gooshurms."

Jarik says, "Well, could you take us to the closest city? You can keep what you salvaged if you can… "

Mismatched-ear nods, sniffing. "Yes. Smell Gooshurm smell. He fox." He nods to the others.

Jarik says, "And… if there's some place I could get clean? Ugh."

Jarik tries to knock the crud off, "Yes, I'm a fox. Something I'm starting to regret."

Red-horn comments, "Regret not foxes. But city is far from here. We shall go to traders. They take you beyond Sea of Sand."

Zoltan gulps down the rest of the fish. he glances at Jarik, "You airship exploded? Hrr… you have to tell me abouts that sometime."

Jarik nods, "That will be fine… Thank you." His head tilts, "You sure look somewhat like a fox. Anyway, is there anyway my friends and I could get cleaned up?"

Mismatched-ears nods. "Sand bath. Get clean."

Jarik thinks, "And can I get rid of this horrid smell?"

Jarik offers a hand to the red-horn, "I'm Sir Jarik Fireclaw. May I ask who you are?"

Red-horn murrs, "Horrid smell? Smell fine," she smiles. "Sir smell like fine perfume."

Zoltan grins… these sand guys bathe the same way he does! Who needs water anyhow.

Jarik raises an eyebrow, "I reek. Those wormthings, ugh… "

The ship is now bearing northward again, sails up and catching the wind, with kooshkie sleds flanking on each side.

Red-horn shrugs. "Will get you sand bath, then."

Jarik nods and smiles to Red-horn, "Thanks."

The light glints off of a set of goggles underneath Five-Horn's cowl. There are three goggles, red, yellow and blue. And in addition to a green beak, there are deep purple (deeper than Red-horn's) furry cheekruffs. Mismatched- ear, on the other hand, has a tuft of light blue headhair, over something that looks like a cross between a bulldog's face with a pirahna. The left side of his face is spotted, with a big yellow eye, while the right side is covered with multi-colored scales, with a much smaller, squinting eye. This is one WEIRD bunch.

Zoltan nudges Kazhir. "Hey… it alrights now. You can get up."

The rest of the crew, it turns out, has similar variation (if the word "similar" can be used at all). It would appear that all the "smaller scavengers" are younger ones of their kind.

The poodle whines, and at last gets up. Scavengers around him start with "Ooooo"ing and "Ahhhh"ing as it appears he's not dead after all.

Jarik keeps knocking the crud off his body. He's thankful he rigged up some sun protection. He just removes it and hopefully most of the junk.

The sun sets, and the air cools somewhat, while the sand trireme zips across the Sea of Sand. Jarik, Zoltan and even the poodle are given a chance to clean themselves off – and are offered several more fish. (The fish, however, are as bizarre and varied in features as the crewmembers. One-eyed, three-eyed, no-eyed, in a wide range of designer colors.)

The ship begins to slow, as the Sea of Sand gives way to more "solid" sand, but it still plows along. Ahead, lights can be seen of a large encampment. "The traders," Red-horn explains.

Jarik smiles to Red-horn, "Thank you for the ride. I don't know how we would have made it out of the desert." He offers her a hand again, "Friends?"

Red-horn shakes Jarik's hand with a hand of her own, covered in … feathers? "Friends," she smiles back.

Zoltan says his goodbyes to Jarik and the poodle. "Was nice meeting you… be sure and look Zoltan up if you in Rephidim sometime?"

Jarik nods to Zoltan, "Take care, and thanks. If you ever need my help, just ask."

Zoltan takes flight … and sometime later hooks up with one of the traders… using the medallion of Kazhir's he swiped as trade for his passage.