Tik-tik watches the Armands for a moment, and the bound man, clearly some form of thief who is being punished for his crimes. This event does not register as out of the ordinary to the Mantis-Man. However the very presence of the Armands here in Ulsur does seem out of place to him. Armored-Men our out of their pastures. No authority have they here.

He clicks his fingers together and listens to the man shout out in the common language shared in The Gate by most of its inhabitants. He tilits his head to the side unseen, and his short antene wiggle around quizically. He listens for a moment more before heading back to the others to report the presence of Armands out of their natural environment.

When he returns to the others he stands up from the sand, his shell and gear still a strange shifting sandy color that makes him blend into the sand even standing up. "Tik-Tik is going hunting. A clutch of four Armord-Men, Armands. They graze in oasis that is not theirs. Prisoner they have." He flips his weapons around like a batton spinning it with the use of three arms he stops with it pointing toward the shanty. "Tik-Tik stalk up on them from The Dik-tik’kir's Face."

The captive Dalishani twists and contorts his bound limbs. He continues to try and communicate with the Armands in Common, though they do not seem to understand. "I was just trying to be friendly, and this is how you treat me? Looking like you do you guys ought to have at least some sense of humour..."

At the same time the Dalishani attempts to use his escape artistry to free an arm so he can reach the concealed dagger which the Armands have so far failed to notice.

The bound Dalishani notices how poorly the rope is actually tied. Felt slowly pulls one hand free of the ropes by simply twisting his arm and bending his wrist. With one hand free he moves it toward a dagger concealed upon his person. The Armands seem totally oblivious to this, even though they stand right above him. Felt’s hand grasps the hilt of his dagger, giving him some protection, though the rest of his gear is piled up a few feet away by the Armands after his capture.




The others are oblivious to this as they make their preparations for whatever they might decide to do next.

In the meantime Turgin gestures to Iz'had.
Turgin: "Stay behind me if it comes to blows magician. What sort of magic do you have that may be useful here?"

Felt is undecided what to do next. The shellmen have obviously not seen that he has worked his way free. He could probably kill one or two, but four tough armadillo men with just a dagger? And making a run for it would mean leaving his stuff behind...

He scans the pile, where his equipment has been uncerimoniously dumped by the Armands, to see if he can make out where his short sword is. Maybe he could make a dash and snatch his sword before the shells knew what was happening...

Tik-Tik doesn't waste much more time, he's told the others what he's seens, and what he's going to do. So he does it. The Thri-Kreen isn't much for words, and perfers actions. He continues to remain in his chameleon form, and slinks off into the desert circling around the camp so as to come at it with the sun to his back, to give him the edge of blinding the Armands. He moves with all his skill around the camp, and starts to creap up toward where he saw the man moving to within 40 feet of the nearest Armand if possible. His plan is to sneal up, throw his crystal disks at one, and then close into melee combat. He remains hidden watching and waiting for the right moment to strike like the prayer mantis that he so emulates.

Iz'Had Looks to Turgin, "Well if needed i have a few battle spells, and a few summoning spells. I suppose that we could cast some. We shoud join the 'keen and help the survivor."

Iz'Had Dismounts from his camel and scoops up his staff and removes his crossbow. He begins to ake his way towards the village.

So far so good, but Felt decides it's time to move before he gets found out. His plan is to kill or seriously injure one Armand with the dagger and then, in the resulting confusion, grab his short sword. Though he doesn't want to think about what might happen after that...

He closely examines the neck and other parts of the body of the Armand closest to him, trying to identify what seems to be the least armoured and protected area. Felt silently takes a long, deep breath and launches a sneak attack on the unsuspecting Armand...

Turgin grabs his scythe and quickly follows Tik-Tik.

Felt quickly stands, even with the rope tied around one wrist, and stabs his dagger toward the Armand in between himself and his gear. The dagger darts into the Armand’s thick shell but goes not further. Unfortunately for the rogue his surprise attack has been thwarted by the thick skin of the desert creature.




The rest of the group begins to approach the shanty, now seeing the violence that has errupted.

Felt is dismayed to see his surprise attack fail. By the looks of it, now he was going to have to deal with these things with his dagger alone.

Still, Felt did not fancy being engaged by 4 Armands simultaneously. He tries to stab the Armand to his north-west and then run about 15 feet through the gap between the 2 Armands situated to the west, in an attempt to break out of being surrounded and give him a few seconds to think.

Tik-Tik has moved up toward the group of Armands placing the sun behind him, to give him that edge against any ranged attacks the armored goblins might make toward him. Seeing the human suddenly break free of his ropes, and attack without much luck, the Thri-Kreen takes that has his cue to attack. Normally he wouldn't just attack like this, but the Armand are well beyond their accepted borders, and the hunt is on, his insticts taking over over his rational mind. Still crouched low, and nearly invisible in the sand of the desert shanty, he extends his arm, the Chatkchas in his hand launch free with a hissing sound that escapes his mandibles. The crystal disks spin through the air glinting in the sunlight as they zoom toward their target, the nearest armored goblin (A4). He attempts to remain camoflaged, using his chameleon shell to hide among the sand, getting ready to draw two more disks.

Seeing that the fighting has started Turgin kicks his horse to a gallop. Combat is probably the one thing the horse really enjoys and it fails to fight back this time. Turgin shouts challengingly as he rushes up on the Armands, trying to distract them from Felt.

The Thri-Kreen rears up and flings two chatkchas toward the nearest Armand. They wiz through the air so quickly that they can hardly be seen over the desert sand. The first misses its target, ripping through one of the tents as if it were paper. The second ricochets off the Armands’ shoulder and falls to the ground. The “plated goblin” turns quickly, peering toward the Thri-Kreen who sent the strange weapons in its direction.


Turgin pushes his mangy horse forward, but the horse seems very excited about the ensuing combat and is actually accepting of the paladin’s orders. The horse kicks forward, throwing sand up behind it, and bringing the man relatively close to the Armands. Turgin yells toward the strange creatures but they do not respond immediately.


The Armands are still caught off guard and cannot properly launch a counter attack. They have been lucky to this point, as no real damage has come to them from the sneak attacks of their attackers.

Hiding out somewhere nearby, an escaped Mul prepares for battle, opening his mind to the possibilities approaching him from the future.