Episode 2.01: Brushfire!

[Davy, aka GM]

"Oh, I don't know about all that," Styles counters, regarding Treyva's ridges. "What do you think about turbans?"

[Patrick Goodman]

Treyva pondered this for a moment. "It would certainly save time..." he said. "I'm game if you are, but we must never tell my youngest; she'd find a way to get pictures and I'm sure I'd never hear the end of it." He looked around the room. "If there's nothing else, I think we should probably get ready."

[Davy, aka GM]

There being no other comment, the officers prepare themselves to beam down and meet in the transporter room.

Sorak, Tobin, Cole, and Dragomirov are already assembled when Treyva and Styles arrive. Sorak is fitted with a hupa-style basket cap to cover his ears, something that wouldn't be out of place in a Tyreen tribe.

Treyva, on the other hand, looks like he could've come straight out of the warlord Khan Noonien Singh's official party; the turban on his head covers all of the important cranial differences, but it also gives him an imperial air. Chief Ma at her station suppresses a smile and surreptitiously presses a button on her console.

[Nolmir]

Tobin eyes Treyva's turban as he enters, not even attempting to contain his smile. "You look very debonair, sir," he says. "I'm sure you'll make quite an impression on Yutan."

[Patrick Goodman]

"I do seem to stand out from the crowd," the captain replied, as he stepped up on the pad. Turning to Dragomirov, he said, "I hesitate to go down unarmed. Are type 1 phasers appropriate in case of emergency?"

[Davy, aka GM]

"Type 1's are authorized, yes, sir," she says as she follows Captain Styles onto the pad. The transporter assistant draws out an appropriate weapon for each member of the landing party, and distributes tricorders to those who want them.

Once everyone is in place, Chief Ma announces, "Sirs, I'm going to put you down about a half-klick outside Yutan's settlement. It's the closest spot I can get you where the natives won't notice the transporter.

OOC: I was originally going to have the Rostov's first officer go down with the PCs and Styles, but Patrick's post reminded me that it would be better to have the actual "point woman" on the landing party.

Tobin, as science officer, will have a tricorder, as will Lt. Dragomirov. Does anyone else want to carry one?

[Patrick Goodman]

Sure. Old habits die hard.

[Renny]

Yes Cole will take one as well please

[Davy, aka GM]

OOC: Tricorders, then, for Treyva, Cole, Les, and Dragomirov. You folks will also be carrying the two repeaters crafted overnight; since Sorak & Styles don't have the extra equipment, we'll say they're carrying the rifles, each with small box of a hundred rounds in their satchel.

The transporter room is replaced by the rocky scrub hills of the Tyreen lands; the sky is overcast and the air is cool, just outside the Vulcan's comfort zone. A stiff breeze is blowing from the northwest and carrying the smells of cooking meats to the landing party.

"Now I'm hungry," the Rostov's A&A mentions.

Styles smirks. "That's what you get for always skipping breakfast, Lieutenant," he quips in a non-hostile tone. With a nod to Treyva, he asked, "Ready?"

[Patrick Goodman]

"By all means; show me the way."

[Davy, aka GM]

The walk is unsteady and progresses slowly; soon enough, however, they find themselves on a small path that allows them to move faster. Styles & Dragomirov lead them into a clearing where several Tyreen men & woman are working. The laughter of children at play can be heard in the background.

The clearing is about 20-30 meters wide, not far from a group of caves that appear to serve as lodgings for the hunter-gatherers. Most of the people are blond, sporting thick manes of hair, but a few raven-haired women move about the larger group, standing out in stark contrast to the others.

A male nearby, who appears to be trimming flight feathers for fletching, is the first to notice the newcomers. His face lights up with recognition and he stands to welcome the landing party.

"Lawrence! It's good to see you!" he says. It's odd to hear Styles called by his first name.

However, the Rostov's captain smiles warmly and he grips the man's proffered hand, giving it a hearty shake. "Dalrem, that fletching is coming along nicely. How's the hunting?"

"Starting to get scarce," Dalrem replies seriously. "We may have to move to our winter quarters sooner than we wanted. Yutan and Ganre think that the Village People are behind it, somehow."

Styles nods. "We're here to see him, so we can ask about it. Is he in camp?"

"Oh, yes. In the caves with Ganre and his war leader."

"Thank you, Dalrem. Now," he continues, turning to gesture to the others, "let me introduce you to some new friends of mine. This is Treyva, his second Sorak, his marksman Cole, and his thought-master Tobin. They're here to assist us for a short time. And you remember Nadya."

"Joy and peace to you," he says, nodding his head in deference to the Drake's officers.

OOC: Anyone up for a quick interaction?

[Renny]

Cole for his part mirrors the gesture in response and indicates the flights being worked on by Dalrem.

"That's some expert work, Dalrem. I've never seen finer"

[Davy, aka GM]

Dalrem smiles. "Know your arrow making, do you?"

[Renny]

Cole returns the smile. "Ah, no. I don't have the skill but I have certainly shot a few arrows in my time. Enough to recognise craftsmanship when I see it."

[Nolmir]

Tobin frowns as Dalrem mentions his people's hunting difficulties, but he returns Dalrem's greeting. "I take it you must be one of your people's hunters, Dalrem. Do you mind if I ask when you mean the hunting is scarce? Are the Village People scaring away your prey?"