Zyanya had greeted her father with a smile and a kiss, the love she held for the man obvious in how her posture became more gentle and demure, rather than drawn up and regal "I said the same thing to her, papa. Without me they'd be dead within the week." She spoke rather matter-of-factly to the man, accentuating points that were most likely made between the two in private. She fell in step with the Prince, though when he and Syndra took seats she moved to stand in front of the portrait.
The resemblance between Zyanya and the woman was uncanny, but there were obvious differences. The woman in the portrait had sharper features and much longer hair, her ears longer than the one's Zyanya sported. The relation was obvious, and due to the similarities between them and the place of honor the painting took it could be assumed that this was her mother. A plaque sat above the portrait, the inscription on it glowing with a faint arcane light. The words were in Chultean, but as one read them they shifted and changed as they translated in Common, as though whoever made it wanted all those who looked to know what it said: In loving memory of Kiele Dawnflower, may every sunrise bring memories of you.
Zyanya listened intently as her father and Syndra spoke on the expedition, then saw fit to interject where the woman trailed off "Such is where we hit a snag. Given...dealings with individuals from other lands, the Princes aren't quick to trust foreigners. Even with enough coin, you'll need to earn business. And I know what you're thinking: you have the daughter of a Merchant Prince with you, so that will make it easy. Unfortunately not. Dealings between Princes is a delicate dance at best and a mortal combat at worst." She sighed softly, though it was more for show than anything else "In short, whenever Princes or their household get into talks with one another, more than coin or wares must be offered. After all, Princess have those to spare." She smiled coyly now "Reputation, land, favors, any number of things will be put forth. So my involvement as daughter of O'tamu is to be downplayed as much as possible."
((I hope its okay that I'm adding all these extra details btw))
"Would we not just seek out this necromancer in the jungle and bring them and their fool magic to justice," Dryn speaks up but reveals little of her displeasure with the opulence and relaxed attitudes to the serious discussion.
Dryn is rather annoyed by the politics. Politics are why her monastery still lay in ruins and her order murdered without recourse. Even the Selune temple in Faerun disregarded her pleas for justice because of some ridiculous politics preventing the temple from swift justice! Dryn would put an end to that however she would now seek out the murders herself, politics be damned!
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“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
"That might be true to you, princess..."Syndra says, referring to Zyanya. "But worry not, not everything has to do with politics. Merchant princes are still merchants, and they have a monopoly on all merchandise sold in the city. It is either them, or their consortiums."
"We don't even know where this necromancer is. There could be just one, or there could be lots of them..." She sighs. "If you believe that you and the others can pull through with just what you already have in hand, I'll have to let you be. But it might be wise to stuck up some supplies before a journey this risky..."
"Jobal knows plenty of explorers whom you could ask questions to, Ifan deals in domesticated beasts, and Kwayothé sells insect repellent. That last one might not sound like much, but there's a rumor that the bugs in the jungle are spreading a disease that makes travelers go mad..." Wakanga warns.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The mention of necromancers caught Ice's attention. They may have knowledge to help him understand what was happening to him. The changes brought about recently had been welcomed, but disturbing in his lack of ability to truly understand them. "Being as we are from not around here I would agree that local knowledge is probably the best option at the moment. I would hate to miss the opportunity to learn from these magicians because of a bite from a pesky insect."
Wakanga's dress and behaviour fascinated Ice and he tried to get a read on the relationship between these two. (Insight: 9) They clearly knew each other, and there was some tension, but Ice like to know who was truly in charge.
A look of mild annoyance crosses Edwin's face as his hosts begin tossing around phrases in a language he does not understand. Though it appears that this is more directed at himself that the speakers. He begins rifling through his pack, pulling out a plain, leather-bound book. With only half an ear on the conversation, he begins muttering an incantation and tracing runes in the air. ((Ritually casting Comprehend Languages))
After completing the spell he returns the book to his pack, but the frustration on his face is still present. Clearly feeling unprepared for the situation he had found himself in. He listens intently to the rest of the conversation, nodding in agreement to the recommended assistance from the merchant princes.
Speaking for the first time since they arrived, O'waac nods under his hood. "It would be foolish of us to not take every precaution in order to succeed. I for one am thankful for whatever assistance you can provide, Syndra. And you, Wakanga." You realize his accent matches that of Zyanya and her father, if not as thick, when speaking Common.
He reaches up and lowers his hood, revealing a skull mask covering his face. The left side of his neck is covered with more discolored scars like those on the back of his left hand. He is wearing scalemail, some of the scales glimmering in the light with vivid colors, like those of a fish or reptile. Gauntlets belonging to the armor are stuffed under his belt. A warhammer hangs at his side. From his neck hangs an amulet of alavender flame inside of a circle. More feathers like those on his cloak and staff adorn various parts of his ensemble, some even tied to his hair.
He sighs. "Though I fear I will have little need of the insect repellent. Since my......accident, I have little to fear from poisons and diseases. Still, it is always good to be overcautious, I suppose."
Erbert steps forward and gives a low, deep bow to Wakanga O’tamu. After a pause, he looks up and meets his eye and says “I am honored to meet you Wakanga. I have travelled here from Waterdeep and my maester Gilo Greentag spoke of you. You are known for your knowledge of the magic and lore of Chult. As I studied with him I read some of your essays, I personally loved “Mysterious Magic, Arcana and its Applications Deep in the Heart of Chult.” When all of this is said and done, I may wish to pick your brain about some of the finer points. (I did bring a copy of it, if you have time to sign it....). But I digress. I’m here to put an end to this death curse. I will slather myself with whatever necessary and ride whatever enormous beastie is necessary. I may be small, but my spirit is big. I will crush this necromantic evil under my foot if it is the last thing I do! (I hope it is not?!?). I am honored to work with you in this quest. If there is any help that you can provide in the Arcane Arts, I’m your man. I’m an Evoker by school and training, but I have an open mind.”Cuervo picks that moment to take a poop on his shoulder, for an extra bit of exclamation, then starts cackling.
Squawk sticks near Syndra's side, taking in all the decor of the house. When he learns he was in the presence of royalty, he quickly drops into a bow before straightening up. He watches the conversation with interest before he pipes in, gesturing to the locals, "Well, you guys live here. What kind of stuff would you recommend besides mounts and repellent? Are the undead common types like zombies, or are they something more sinister?" His tail lashes anxiously behind him, revealing him to be nervous .
From Wakanga's gallant behavior and Syndra's near lack of reaction to it, you can only guess that he's just someone who likes to flirt with smart women (That, or maybe they had something in the past, but that's mere conjecture). In any case, the plaque under the portrait reveals that he's a widower, so make of that what you will. His voice also seems less warm when talking about Ifan and Kwayothé, which might indicate anything from just plain dislike to a possible political rivalry. As for Syndra, she's just here as a guest.
Syndra doesn't react when she sees O'waac's mask and holy symbol, but Wakanga recognizes the lavender flame immediately. "Oh, a Bolefuego worshipper! Thought only some of tribes deep in the jungle still knew about that goddess..." He muses aloud. "Happy to see I was wrong. I'm not a follower of the Ghostly Matron myself, but I admit that I feel a deep respect for the wild gods. As a mage and a researcher, they completely fascinate me."
"You might want to be careful, though" He warns, still adressing to the cleric. "There's sadly a lot of misinformation going on in this city, there's more fearmongering towards the necromancing arts than ever before due to the sudden undead hordes, and the split between the Chulteans is still palpable. Others are not as knowledgeable as I am and might react with fear and hatred, so you might want to keep your faith hidden while inside the Port..."
He reacts with joy to Erbert's interest. "It is nice to meet a fellow sage here. Not sure if I have something for Evokers in particular, but if you happen to be in need of components, scrolls or potions, then look no further. What would you wish to have? I'm sure I will be able to find something to suit your needs..."
((OOC: Wakanga O'tamu can sell Spell Scrolls of 1-est and 2nd-level, and any uncommon Potion. Certain magic items can also be bought from him, but they can only be Common and/or Uncommon ones.))
He gets interrupted by Squawk, and tries to speak calmly so as to not scare the already nervous kobold any further. "Just normal zombies, little one. Dead people and dead animals walking around, scary but nothing a well-timed Fireball can't reduce to ashes or that a good blade can't return to the grave..." He explains, "If you need something to protect yourself with, you can go to Ekene-Afa, she's the one who deals in weapons, shields and traveling gear. In case you need armor, go to Zhanthi, she mostly trades in gems and jewelry but she also deals in leather and hide armor. As for any other resources... Jessamine knows a thing or two about healing herbs, but her expertise are poisons. Not much of a help against things that are already dead, I'm afraid, but potentially helpful if a giant beast ever tries to eat you."
"Where is the coin coming from for these items you're insisting we need? I'm not a stranger to the jungles. I know some of the dangers that await us but I...I am a follower of Selune. I haven't coin to purchase anything for myself or I don't know the circumstances however of my companions," Dryn asks giving Syndra and Wakanga. "Are you going to outfit us for the journey ahead," she asks curiously.
Dryn looks briefly at O'waac again but doesn't say anything.
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“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
Erbert’s eyes go wide and he becomes very interested when Wakanga mentions potions, scrolls and magic items. “A bag of holding would be very handy. I worry about things (such as my spell book) getting damaged out there. What else do you have? Let me see...”. He starts to think of what will be useful, looking around the room...
Fennic stands with his lean arms crossed beside the group. Information simply being absorbed as his eyes darted from speaker to speaker. He was use to being in the background and people pass over him, if not out of fear then out of disinterest. He tightens the straps on his backpack while he waits for everyone to begin speaking. These Merchant Princes seemed to relish on the dance of strength, but prefer to make a show of strength than actual strength.
"If possible..." Fennic finds a moment to interject, "Our survival in unknown territory could very well rest on our preparation. I have spent many weeks isolated in forests of the world and without proper rations, shelter, herbs and potions to keep us healthy. To perish from a disease, hunger, or exposure is to die foolishly..." He pauses for a moment before making another request, "I would also like a book about your native language."
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Viktor Dreamweaver - Cleric - "I'm the stuff of nightmares kid."
Tyril Strongbones - Ranger- "I prick and poke until I get what I need... Whether it be supple flesh or cold steel"
Zedair Daardendarian- Fighter- "You were not a challenge. How unfortunate for you."
DM. Player. Teacher. Husband. Cat owner. Dog Lover
"I will be paying all from my own pocket... Though of course I'll appreciate it if you all keep it to the things you'll need." Syndra answers.
Heedless from Syndra's subtle jab, Wakanga wastes no time showing Erbert some of the merchandise he happens to have around. As someone who deals in knowledge, information and lost lore, there's quite a few things...
Potions: Any that is Common or Uncommon, not any Rare ones or viceversa. (Potion of Climbing, Potion of Healing (Common and Greater), Potion of Animal Friendship...)
Items: Among the objects, you see what looks like a simple map case, but you can feel magic coming from it (Cartographer's Map Case), a crystal amulet of a dark color, seems like an arcane focus but its magic recoils from you: It seems that it wasn't meant for wizards. ( Dark Shard Amulet ). There's also another crystal, this one of a warm purple color. ( Feywild Shard ). A leather-bound book, looks like a spellbook. ( Arcane Grimoire (Uncommon only) ).
To your surprise, there's what looks like tattoo needles. "There's dwarves on these jungles, but they are not like the ones we know: They used to live underground, deep under the mountains and the volcanoes, but something seems to have destroyed their homes, and now they wander through the jungle. Since they couldn't forge anymore, it seems they now have redirected their innate desire for crafting towards strange arcane arts and... their own bodies. If you find tattooed dwarves with white hair and pale eyes on your journey, that's them." Wakanga explains. "People say not to trust them, but we wouldn't have any Arcane breakthrough if we let hatred and fear decide for us, haven't we? I manage to trade with one of those dwarvish clans to get these..."
He turns to the dragonborn. "A book, huh? If learning our language is what you want, I'm afraid all I can do is to offer you a Potion of Comprehension, but that one would just work for an hour. Real knowledge of a language only comes with time..."Scratching his beard, he walks towards a desk and starts searching for something. "That being said, your request has reminded me of something. You might find it interesting."
He returns holding a tattered, water-damaged explorer's journal. "I found this on one of my travels 15 years ago."He says. "It describes a wizard’s explorations of various places in Chult, but not in enough detail to locate them on a map. Given that this journal was abandoned in the middle of the jungle, I think it is fair to guess the poor guy's no longer on this world... But his findings, as vague as they are, might be of some help to you now."
Dryn looks curiously at the travel journal but seems skeptical about the other items.
"Potion of health might be most helpful. I have healing but alas it's not very much," she explains.
Dryn will take as many common healing and greater healing she can get, being the tank and all...
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“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
Fennic takes both the potion and the journal from Wakanga and bows deeply, "Thank you for your gifts, I know next to nothing about your culture, language, and truly I have only heard of this land in rumors and passing conversations. I will learn and understand your people." Fennic wraps the potion and explorer's journal away into his backpack. He wonders if there are notes about the creatures and landscape. He smiled at the thought and backed up so others may ask their questions.
The large Red Dragonborn could not help but approach the one referred to as O'waac, "Your attire... Your 'Ghostly Matron'..." Fennic cocks his head slightly as he found himself having a sensation of being slightly on guard around this individual, "I wish to learn more, perhaps in our travels you could teach me more of this..." Fennic snaps his fingers searching for the word before pointing at O'waac, "... Bolefuego! Wakanga called your patron a 'wild god'..."
Fennic's face was one that showed clear curiosity and a hunger for information, but found himself inching slowly closer before clearing his throat and backing up a few steps. "I apologize I was too forward, I shall earn the right to learn."
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Viktor Dreamweaver - Cleric - "I'm the stuff of nightmares kid."
Tyril Strongbones - Ranger- "I prick and poke until I get what I need... Whether it be supple flesh or cold steel"
Zedair Daardendarian- Fighter- "You were not a challenge. How unfortunate for you."
DM. Player. Teacher. Husband. Cat owner. Dog Lover
Curious, O'waac moves over to where the needles lay. He picks up the one that indicates protection. Looking at Wakanga he asks, "May I?"
Not necessarily waiting for a response, he begins taking off his armor. Stripped down to just a loincloth, you can see that the entire left side of his lean, wiry body is marred by burn scars. Showing lighter than his natural skin color, they appear to have healed naturally, instead of magically. He picks up the needle and presses it to his left arm. After a few moments the needle begins to glow with silver light. The light then flows from the needle to his arm. After the light fades, silver scales can be seen running up his entire arm, wrist to shoulder.
Flexing his right arm, the scales ripple along with his muscles. He wraps the leather skirt from the scalemail back around his waist, hanging his pouches and warhammer back on it.
Turning toward the Dragonborn, O'waac nods. "If you wish, I can share my beliefs. Bolefuego is not a secretive god, but one who spreads light. I can even teach you some of our language. I am sure Zyanya could help as well. If she is willing."
O'waac extends his newly tattooed arm, to clasp hands with his companion. Behind the skull mask, his grey eyes pierce into Fennic's.
"This is very generous of you, I am sure that being properly prepared will do us great service." He spends a long moment considering the task in front of him, before continuing. "Based on your vivid description of the danger which lies before us, if you had a Cloak of Protection that I could use it would be most appreciated."
Noticing Wakanga returning with the journal for Fennic, Edwin's interested is piqued, trying to get a good look at the book before the dragonborn stows it away. He tenuously raises his voice again, "Mister... Wakanga, sir? I hate to be a burden, but your collection of literature is very impressive. I've been researching the history of Chult, believing my distant ancestors to have come from the peninsula. Would you have any books on the topic that you would be willing to share? Even if it was just to look over before we leave, I wouldn't be able to thank you enough."
He then approaches the dragonborn. "Fennic? Sir? That was your name, correct? When you are finished with it, might I be able to read the journal that Mr. Wakanga entrusted to you? I'm always looking for something new and interesting to read."
Fennicgrinned as O'waacoffered his arm and he clasped it with a tight grip and nodded. "I look forward to our conversations."
Fennic could be seen grinning wide as they squeezed arms and couldn't help but appreciate the man's willingness to tattoo his already scarred body. He glanced over his shoulder as Edwin approached him. He nodded and put his hands on his shoulders facing him, "Of course my companion." Fennic squeezed his shoulders a bit with a nod, "You are strong of body and wish to be strong of mind as well?!" The joy on his face was clear, "This group of people is full of surprises. I look forward to learning together."
You can see that Fennic had been physically standoffish since you have met him, but you watch as his shoulders slump and this spark of life and energy seems to wash over him. You can see that perhaps Fennic is not as old as he wishes to portray.
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Viktor Dreamweaver - Cleric - "I'm the stuff of nightmares kid."
Tyril Strongbones - Ranger- "I prick and poke until I get what I need... Whether it be supple flesh or cold steel"
Zedair Daardendarian- Fighter- "You were not a challenge. How unfortunate for you."
DM. Player. Teacher. Husband. Cat owner. Dog Lover
"The strength of body is a more recent development. Directly a result of my research, as a matter of fact. A long story perhaps better saved for another time."
He nods appreciatively toward Fennic, a hint of surprise showing on his face to the suddenly softening dragonborn.
Zyanya had greeted her father with a smile and a kiss, the love she held for the man obvious in how her posture became more gentle and demure, rather than drawn up and regal "I said the same thing to her, papa. Without me they'd be dead within the week." She spoke rather matter-of-factly to the man, accentuating points that were most likely made between the two in private. She fell in step with the Prince, though when he and Syndra took seats she moved to stand in front of the portrait.
The resemblance between Zyanya and the woman was uncanny, but there were obvious differences. The woman in the portrait had sharper features and much longer hair, her ears longer than the one's Zyanya sported. The relation was obvious, and due to the similarities between them and the place of honor the painting took it could be assumed that this was her mother. A plaque sat above the portrait, the inscription on it glowing with a faint arcane light. The words were in Chultean, but as one read them they shifted and changed as they translated in Common, as though whoever made it wanted all those who looked to know what it said: In loving memory of Kiele Dawnflower, may every sunrise bring memories of you.
Zyanya listened intently as her father and Syndra spoke on the expedition, then saw fit to interject where the woman trailed off "Such is where we hit a snag. Given...dealings with individuals from other lands, the Princes aren't quick to trust foreigners. Even with enough coin, you'll need to earn business. And I know what you're thinking: you have the daughter of a Merchant Prince with you, so that will make it easy. Unfortunately not. Dealings between Princes is a delicate dance at best and a mortal combat at worst." She sighed softly, though it was more for show than anything else "In short, whenever Princes or their household get into talks with one another, more than coin or wares must be offered. After all, Princess have those to spare." She smiled coyly now "Reputation, land, favors, any number of things will be put forth. So my involvement as daughter of O'tamu is to be downplayed as much as possible."
((I hope its okay that I'm adding all these extra details btw))
"Would we not just seek out this necromancer in the jungle and bring them and their fool magic to justice," Dryn speaks up but reveals little of her displeasure with the opulence and relaxed attitudes to the serious discussion.
Dryn is rather annoyed by the politics. Politics are why her monastery still lay in ruins and her order murdered without recourse. Even the Selune temple in Faerun disregarded her pleas for justice because of some ridiculous politics preventing the temple from swift justice! Dryn would put an end to that however she would now seek out the murders herself, politics be damned!
“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
"That might be true to you, princess..." Syndra says, referring to Zyanya. "But worry not, not everything has to do with politics. Merchant princes are still merchants, and they have a monopoly on all merchandise sold in the city. It is either them, or their consortiums."
"We don't even know where this necromancer is. There could be just one, or there could be lots of them..." She sighs. "If you believe that you and the others can pull through with just what you already have in hand, I'll have to let you be. But it might be wise to stuck up some supplies before a journey this risky..."
"Jobal knows plenty of explorers whom you could ask questions to, Ifan deals in domesticated beasts, and Kwayothé sells insect repellent. That last one might not sound like much, but there's a rumor that the bugs in the jungle are spreading a disease that makes travelers go mad..." Wakanga warns.
Active Campaigns:
Raiketsu's Princes of the Apocalypse (DM: Raiketsu) - Shautha: Half-Orc, Level 3 Druid (Circle of Land: Mountain) ⟆ Monster Misfits Adventures (DM: ShadIn) - Vrakskan Onyxadyn: Dragonborn, Level 3 Barbarian (Path of the Ancestral Guardian) ⟆ Rime of the Frostmaiden (DM: Sarvaeth) - Rildayne Uln'hyrr: Drow Elf, Level 1 Warlock of the Archfey
RachelEvening's Tyranny of the Dragon Queen - DM
RachelEvening's Tomb of Annihilation - DM
The mention of necromancers caught Ice's attention. They may have knowledge to help him understand what was happening to him. The changes brought about recently had been welcomed, but disturbing in his lack of ability to truly understand them. "Being as we are from not around here I would agree that local knowledge is probably the best option at the moment. I would hate to miss the opportunity to learn from these magicians because of a bite from a pesky insect."
Wakanga's dress and behaviour fascinated Ice and he tried to get a read on the relationship between these two. (Insight: 9) They clearly knew each other, and there was some tension, but Ice like to know who was truly in charge.
A look of mild annoyance crosses Edwin's face as his hosts begin tossing around phrases in a language he does not understand. Though it appears that this is more directed at himself that the speakers. He begins rifling through his pack, pulling out a plain, leather-bound book. With only half an ear on the conversation, he begins muttering an incantation and tracing runes in the air. ((Ritually casting Comprehend Languages))
After completing the spell he returns the book to his pack, but the frustration on his face is still present. Clearly feeling unprepared for the situation he had found himself in. He listens intently to the rest of the conversation, nodding in agreement to the recommended assistance from the merchant princes.
Ryndar Shadowsbane - Lvl 3 Eldarin Fighter | Kassar - Lvl 2 Lizardfolk Druid (Circle of Stars) | Finnegan (Finn) Taggert - Lvl 1 Human Cleric (Peace Domain) |
Verdan Schmidt - Lvl 2 Half-Elf Bard | Grithik - Lvl 5 Deep Gnome Warlock (Celestial)
Speaking for the first time since they arrived, O'waac nods under his hood. "It would be foolish of us to not take every precaution in order to succeed. I for one am thankful for whatever assistance you can provide, Syndra. And you, Wakanga." You realize his accent matches that of Zyanya and her father, if not as thick, when speaking Common.
He reaches up and lowers his hood, revealing a skull mask covering his face. The left side of his neck is covered with more discolored scars like those on the back of his left hand. He is wearing scalemail, some of the scales glimmering in the light with vivid colors, like those of a fish or reptile. Gauntlets belonging to the armor are stuffed under his belt. A warhammer hangs at his side. From his neck hangs an amulet of a lavender flame inside of a circle. More feathers like those on his cloak and staff adorn various parts of his ensemble, some even tied to his hair.
He sighs. "Though I fear I will have little need of the insect repellent. Since my......accident, I have little to fear from poisons and diseases. Still, it is always good to be overcautious, I suppose."
Enzo Ballantine - Shadow Sorcerer
Erbert steps forward and gives a low, deep bow to Wakanga O’tamu. After a pause, he looks up and meets his eye and says “I am honored to meet you Wakanga. I have travelled here from Waterdeep and my maester Gilo Greentag spoke of you. You are known for your knowledge of the magic and lore of Chult. As I studied with him I read some of your essays, I personally loved “Mysterious Magic, Arcana and its Applications Deep in the Heart of Chult.” When all of this is said and done, I may wish to pick your brain about some of the finer points. (I did bring a copy of it, if you have time to sign it....). But I digress. I’m here to put an end to this death curse. I will slather myself with whatever necessary and ride whatever enormous beastie is necessary. I may be small, but my spirit is big. I will crush this necromantic evil under my foot if it is the last thing I do! (I hope it is not?!?). I am honored to work with you in this quest. If there is any help that you can provide in the Arcane Arts, I’m your man. I’m an Evoker by school and training, but I have an open mind.” Cuervo picks that moment to take a poop on his shoulder, for an extra bit of exclamation, then starts cackling.
Squawk sticks near Syndra's side, taking in all the decor of the house. When he learns he was in the presence of royalty, he quickly drops into a bow before straightening up. He watches the conversation with interest before he pipes in, gesturing to the locals, "Well, you guys live here. What kind of stuff would you recommend besides mounts and repellent? Are the undead common types like zombies, or are they something more sinister?" His tail lashes anxiously behind him, revealing him to be nervous .
To Ice:
From Wakanga's gallant behavior and Syndra's near lack of reaction to it, you can only guess that he's just someone who likes to flirt with smart women (That, or maybe they had something in the past, but that's mere conjecture). In any case, the plaque under the portrait reveals that he's a widower, so make of that what you will. His voice also seems less warm when talking about Ifan and Kwayothé, which might indicate anything from just plain dislike to a possible political rivalry. As for Syndra, she's just here as a guest.
Syndra doesn't react when she sees O'waac's mask and holy symbol, but Wakanga recognizes the lavender flame immediately. "Oh, a Bolefuego worshipper! Thought only some of tribes deep in the jungle still knew about that goddess..." He muses aloud. "Happy to see I was wrong. I'm not a follower of the Ghostly Matron myself, but I admit that I feel a deep respect for the wild gods. As a mage and a researcher, they completely fascinate me."
"You might want to be careful, though" He warns, still adressing to the cleric. "There's sadly a lot of misinformation going on in this city, there's more fearmongering towards the necromancing arts than ever before due to the sudden undead hordes, and the split between the Chulteans is still palpable. Others are not as knowledgeable as I am and might react with fear and hatred, so you might want to keep your faith hidden while inside the Port..."
He reacts with joy to Erbert's interest. "It is nice to meet a fellow sage here. Not sure if I have something for Evokers in particular, but if you happen to be in need of components, scrolls or potions, then look no further. What would you wish to have? I'm sure I will be able to find something to suit your needs..."
((OOC: Wakanga O'tamu can sell Spell Scrolls of 1-est and 2nd-level, and any uncommon Potion. Certain magic items can also be bought from him, but they can only be Common and/or Uncommon ones.))
He gets interrupted by Squawk, and tries to speak calmly so as to not scare the already nervous kobold any further. "Just normal zombies, little one. Dead people and dead animals walking around, scary but nothing a well-timed Fireball can't reduce to ashes or that a good blade can't return to the grave..." He explains, "If you need something to protect yourself with, you can go to Ekene-Afa, she's the one who deals in weapons, shields and traveling gear. In case you need armor, go to Zhanthi, she mostly trades in gems and jewelry but she also deals in leather and hide armor. As for any other resources... Jessamine knows a thing or two about healing herbs, but her expertise are poisons. Not much of a help against things that are already dead, I'm afraid, but potentially helpful if a giant beast ever tries to eat you."
Active Campaigns:
Raiketsu's Princes of the Apocalypse (DM: Raiketsu) - Shautha: Half-Orc, Level 3 Druid (Circle of Land: Mountain) ⟆ Monster Misfits Adventures (DM: ShadIn) - Vrakskan Onyxadyn: Dragonborn, Level 3 Barbarian (Path of the Ancestral Guardian) ⟆ Rime of the Frostmaiden (DM: Sarvaeth) - Rildayne Uln'hyrr: Drow Elf, Level 1 Warlock of the Archfey
RachelEvening's Tyranny of the Dragon Queen - DM
RachelEvening's Tomb of Annihilation - DM
"Where is the coin coming from for these items you're insisting we need? I'm not a stranger to the jungles. I know some of the dangers that await us but I...I am a follower of Selune. I haven't coin to purchase anything for myself or I don't know the circumstances however of my companions," Dryn asks giving Syndra and Wakanga. "Are you going to outfit us for the journey ahead," she asks curiously.
Dryn looks briefly at O'waac again but doesn't say anything.
“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
Erbert’s eyes go wide and he becomes very interested when Wakanga mentions potions, scrolls and magic items. “A bag of holding would be very handy. I worry about things (such as my spell book) getting damaged out there. What else do you have? Let me see...”. He starts to think of what will be useful, looking around the room...
Fennic stands with his lean arms crossed beside the group. Information simply being absorbed as his eyes darted from speaker to speaker. He was use to being in the background and people pass over him, if not out of fear then out of disinterest. He tightens the straps on his backpack while he waits for everyone to begin speaking. These Merchant Princes seemed to relish on the dance of strength, but prefer to make a show of strength than actual strength.
"If possible..." Fennic finds a moment to interject, "Our survival in unknown territory could very well rest on our preparation. I have spent many weeks isolated in forests of the world and without proper rations, shelter, herbs and potions to keep us healthy. To perish from a disease, hunger, or exposure is to die foolishly..." He pauses for a moment before making another request, "I would also like a book about your native language."
Viktor Dreamweaver - Cleric - "I'm the stuff of nightmares kid."
Tyril Strongbones - Ranger- "I prick and poke until I get what I need... Whether it be supple flesh or cold steel"
Zedair Daardendarian- Fighter- "You were not a challenge. How unfortunate for you."
DM. Player. Teacher. Husband. Cat owner. Dog Lover
"I will be paying all from my own pocket... Though of course I'll appreciate it if you all keep it to the things you'll need." Syndra answers.
Heedless from Syndra's subtle jab, Wakanga wastes no time showing Erbert some of the merchandise he happens to have around. As someone who deals in knowledge, information and lost lore, there's quite a few things...
Potions: Any that is Common or Uncommon, not any Rare ones or viceversa. (Potion of Climbing, Potion of Healing (Common and Greater), Potion of Animal Friendship...)
Items: Among the objects, you see what looks like a simple map case, but you can feel magic coming from it (Cartographer's Map Case), a crystal amulet of a dark color, seems like an arcane focus but its magic recoils from you: It seems that it wasn't meant for wizards. ( Dark Shard Amulet ). There's also another crystal, this one of a warm purple color. ( Feywild Shard ). A leather-bound book, looks like a spellbook. ( Arcane Grimoire (Uncommon only) ).
To your surprise, there's what looks like tattoo needles. "There's dwarves on these jungles, but they are not like the ones we know: They used to live underground, deep under the mountains and the volcanoes, but something seems to have destroyed their homes, and now they wander through the jungle. Since they couldn't forge anymore, it seems they now have redirected their innate desire for crafting towards strange arcane arts and... their own bodies. If you find tattooed dwarves with white hair and pale eyes on your journey, that's them." Wakanga explains. "People say not to trust them, but we wouldn't have any Arcane breakthrough if we let hatred and fear decide for us, haven't we? I manage to trade with one of those dwarvish clans to get these..."
(The special needles can only make the following: Illuminator's Tattoo, Spellwrought Tattoo, Barrier Tattoo (Uncommon only), and Coiling Grasp Tattoo )
He turns to the dragonborn. "A book, huh? If learning our language is what you want, I'm afraid all I can do is to offer you a Potion of Comprehension, but that one would just work for an hour. Real knowledge of a language only comes with time..." Scratching his beard, he walks towards a desk and starts searching for something. "That being said, your request has reminded me of something. You might find it interesting."
He returns holding a tattered, water-damaged explorer's journal. "I found this on one of my travels 15 years ago." He says. "It describes a wizard’s explorations of various places in Chult, but not in enough detail to locate them on a map. Given that this journal was abandoned in the middle of the jungle, I think it is fair to guess the poor guy's no longer on this world... But his findings, as vague as they are, might be of some help to you now."
Active Campaigns:
Raiketsu's Princes of the Apocalypse (DM: Raiketsu) - Shautha: Half-Orc, Level 3 Druid (Circle of Land: Mountain) ⟆ Monster Misfits Adventures (DM: ShadIn) - Vrakskan Onyxadyn: Dragonborn, Level 3 Barbarian (Path of the Ancestral Guardian) ⟆ Rime of the Frostmaiden (DM: Sarvaeth) - Rildayne Uln'hyrr: Drow Elf, Level 1 Warlock of the Archfey
RachelEvening's Tyranny of the Dragon Queen - DM
RachelEvening's Tomb of Annihilation - DM
OOC: These are he only items on offer?
Dryn looks curiously at the travel journal but seems skeptical about the other items.
"Potion of health might be most helpful. I have healing but alas it's not very much," she explains.
Dryn will take as many common healing and greater healing she can get, being the tank and all...
“But no living man am I! You look upon a woman...You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
Fennic takes both the potion and the journal from Wakanga and bows deeply, "Thank you for your gifts, I know next to nothing about your culture, language, and truly I have only heard of this land in rumors and passing conversations. I will learn and understand your people." Fennic wraps the potion and explorer's journal away into his backpack. He wonders if there are notes about the creatures and landscape. He smiled at the thought and backed up so others may ask their questions.
The large Red Dragonborn could not help but approach the one referred to as O'waac, "Your attire... Your 'Ghostly Matron'..." Fennic cocks his head slightly as he found himself having a sensation of being slightly on guard around this individual, "I wish to learn more, perhaps in our travels you could teach me more of this..." Fennic snaps his fingers searching for the word before pointing at O'waac, "... Bolefuego! Wakanga called your patron a 'wild god'..."
Fennic's face was one that showed clear curiosity and a hunger for information, but found himself inching slowly closer before clearing his throat and backing up a few steps. "I apologize I was too forward, I shall earn the right to learn."
Viktor Dreamweaver - Cleric - "I'm the stuff of nightmares kid."
Tyril Strongbones - Ranger- "I prick and poke until I get what I need... Whether it be supple flesh or cold steel"
Zedair Daardendarian- Fighter- "You were not a challenge. How unfortunate for you."
DM. Player. Teacher. Husband. Cat owner. Dog Lover
Curious, O'waac moves over to where the needles lay. He picks up the one that indicates protection. Looking at Wakanga he asks, "May I?"
Not necessarily waiting for a response, he begins taking off his armor. Stripped down to just a loincloth, you can see that the entire left side of his lean, wiry body is marred by burn scars. Showing lighter than his natural skin color, they appear to have healed naturally, instead of magically. He picks up the needle and presses it to his left arm. After a few moments the needle begins to glow with silver light. The light then flows from the needle to his arm. After the light fades, silver scales can be seen running up his entire arm, wrist to shoulder.
Flexing his right arm, the scales ripple along with his muscles. He wraps the leather skirt from the scalemail back around his waist, hanging his pouches and warhammer back on it.
Enzo Ballantine - Shadow Sorcerer
Turning toward the Dragonborn, O'waac nods. "If you wish, I can share my beliefs. Bolefuego is not a secretive god, but one who spreads light. I can even teach you some of our language. I am sure Zyanya could help as well. If she is willing."
O'waac extends his newly tattooed arm, to clasp hands with his companion. Behind the skull mask, his grey eyes pierce into Fennic's.
Enzo Ballantine - Shadow Sorcerer
"This is very generous of you, I am sure that being properly prepared will do us great service." He spends a long moment considering the task in front of him, before continuing. "Based on your vivid description of the danger which lies before us, if you had a Cloak of Protection that I could use it would be most appreciated."
Noticing Wakanga returning with the journal for Fennic, Edwin's interested is piqued, trying to get a good look at the book before the dragonborn stows it away. He tenuously raises his voice again, "Mister... Wakanga, sir? I hate to be a burden, but your collection of literature is very impressive. I've been researching the history of Chult, believing my distant ancestors to have come from the peninsula. Would you have any books on the topic that you would be willing to share? Even if it was just to look over before we leave, I wouldn't be able to thank you enough."
He then approaches the dragonborn. "Fennic? Sir? That was your name, correct? When you are finished with it, might I be able to read the journal that Mr. Wakanga entrusted to you? I'm always looking for something new and interesting to read."
Ryndar Shadowsbane - Lvl 3 Eldarin Fighter | Kassar - Lvl 2 Lizardfolk Druid (Circle of Stars) | Finnegan (Finn) Taggert - Lvl 1 Human Cleric (Peace Domain) |
Verdan Schmidt - Lvl 2 Half-Elf Bard | Grithik - Lvl 5 Deep Gnome Warlock (Celestial)
Fennic grinned as O'waac offered his arm and he clasped it with a tight grip and nodded. "I look forward to our conversations."
Fennic could be seen grinning wide as they squeezed arms and couldn't help but appreciate the man's willingness to tattoo his already scarred body. He glanced over his shoulder as Edwin approached him. He nodded and put his hands on his shoulders facing him, "Of course my companion." Fennic squeezed his shoulders a bit with a nod, "You are strong of body and wish to be strong of mind as well?!" The joy on his face was clear, "This group of people is full of surprises. I look forward to learning together."
You can see that Fennic had been physically standoffish since you have met him, but you watch as his shoulders slump and this spark of life and energy seems to wash over him. You can see that perhaps Fennic is not as old as he wishes to portray.
Viktor Dreamweaver - Cleric - "I'm the stuff of nightmares kid."
Tyril Strongbones - Ranger- "I prick and poke until I get what I need... Whether it be supple flesh or cold steel"
Zedair Daardendarian- Fighter- "You were not a challenge. How unfortunate for you."
DM. Player. Teacher. Husband. Cat owner. Dog Lover
"The strength of body is a more recent development. Directly a result of my research, as a matter of fact. A long story perhaps better saved for another time."
He nods appreciatively toward Fennic, a hint of surprise showing on his face to the suddenly softening dragonborn.
Ryndar Shadowsbane - Lvl 3 Eldarin Fighter | Kassar - Lvl 2 Lizardfolk Druid (Circle of Stars) | Finnegan (Finn) Taggert - Lvl 1 Human Cleric (Peace Domain) |
Verdan Schmidt - Lvl 2 Half-Elf Bard | Grithik - Lvl 5 Deep Gnome Warlock (Celestial)