Laderan returns to his private room from his now familiar pocket warren. It has been a strange experience, one of those quirky gifts that he was granted by the Djinn. He muses out loud, though still quietly - it is the middle of the night after all and there's every chance that there are prying ears other than his own. "Why here? I mean, you could have twisted that deal any number of ways. So why dump me on this plane, in a predicament that lands me and therefore your earring in a position where death is significantly more probable than profit?... Bah. You'll just watch my corpse rot and swindle the next idiot that comes along!" Maybe he'll get a response sometime. Tonight obviously was not that night though. Laderan checks his coin purse, notably happier about it's contents after today's small haul. Though he must make sure bot to be seen out with Merrick again, a harengon and a firbolg traveling together are likely to spark recognition in even the most dull-witted of tavern dwellers. He shrugs and decides that those are provlems for the new day before rolling over and falling back to sleep.
The sun sneaks in through the curtained window, gently telling the little rabbit-kin that the day has started and thus there are jobs to be done. After breakfast. Laderan dons his patchwork breeches, tugs his armor into place, and throws his customary hooded shawl on over the top. He heads out from the bedromm, locking the door behind him and leaving the hanging sign on the outside, declining 'housekeeping'... Whatever that was. He honestly couldn't see living in a house long term, and he'd learned that no-one lets you keep anything of value for free. So bo, he would let them have whatever house they might have been offering. Just the room was good enough for him, and that was expensive enough!
He foubd his way downstairs and immediately sought out the bar staff to enquire about food. Ashtear had suggested that they spend today gathering supplies, and Laderan had found that foraging was best done on a full stomach. Any time he had seen people try whilst thinking about food, they either ate half the stash before returning, or largely miscalculated what they would need. So a hesrty breakfast was an easy cure to that problem. He looked around for the others, but it appeared that he was the first to rise... Or the last, and everyone else had departed without him, which wasn't all that bad of an outcome if it were the case.
He settled in and waited for his food and companions to appear.
Wide awake for some hours now, Oranir had freshened however he could and changed robes, using another set of the same colors of black and gold. The elf arrives down at wherever food is served, nodding and similing creepily at the servants as he passed by, finally spotting his leporine companion and approaching, "Fair accommodations, we'd have to agree, hmm? While I miss the comfort of my family estate in Cormanthor, I reckon we will sorely miss these beds in but a few days." he says as he pulls a chair, tries to get the attention of any of the attendants nearby, smiling and pointing at the table as he sits down, expecting some food to be served soon. Looking at Laderan again "Well? What are our priorities for the day? Guide, supplies... While we have some preparation for the expedition, it's nothing that would deny us some other activities before the races and our departure. Did you hear that thing last night about the public bathhouse? I wonder if pulling on that string would be worth the backing of another merchant prince behind our expedition." the elf scratches his chin as he looks around at the attendants.
Vladimir awakens early, despite staying up late the night before in prayer. His thoughts regarding the dwarf last night left him troubled and poor Merrick seemed to have had a particularly hard time getting settled down. But the three hours of prayer and, now, the opportunity to practice his forms in the early morning had calmed his worried mind, allowing him to find peace in the familiar words and exercises. Carefully trying to be quiet, he practices the forms, dressed only in a loincloth. The motions mimic martial actions, but they allow him to find a pool of calm. His breathing slows, his pulse stirs, he feels alive and fresh. Finishing his morning devotions, he carefully checks over his armor and his weapon, making sure they are clean, well-oiled, and ready for action. As he dresses, he thinks about the day's tasks. Probably they first must find a guide and then go with them to acquire provisions and other gear for the trip to the interior. He wonders where they will meet Inete. He is not really paying attention to what he is doing any more and, as a result, he fumbles with his shield when he attempts to strap it to his back. Unfortunately, as he scrambles to catch it, he winds up knocking it directly, and quite forcefully, into Merrick's belly.
Attendants knock gently at each door, offering hot, fresh water for bathing, along with little soaps shaped like palm fronds and smelling of clean ocean air, or tropical fruit.
Passing into the restaurant, a new and unfamiliar attendant works the front desk, but greets you with a hearty "Pleasant morning!" as though you have met many times.
For those who have paid the all-inclusive rate, a breakfast buffet is stationed in the restaurant's glasshouse, where bright sunlight peeps through the fronds of palms and filters in through the room's glass walls and ceiling. Tropical birds sing from the trees outside, and crystal water cascades from magically animated fountains stationed in each corner. A harpist, a halfling female dressed in light blue robes, plucks at an instrument appropriately proportioned for her stature. The buffet is generous and contains a little of everything from the menu (see #library), and a station near the door is set up for make-your-own Bloody Zariels.
After the incredible accommodations, Sayax slowly wakes and lays in bed a bit, enjoying his location. He hears the attendant knock at the door and graciously accepts the hot water for bathing. Once done and ready to face the day, he heads down to join his companions.
Being one of the last down, he tries to quickly eat his breakfast to not slow any plans for the upcoming day. "So, where do we want to head first? Shall we acquire a guide?"
Nodding along, "Seems like the best plan! After all.They might need time to get things together as well. This is no meager excursion...if it goes right."
Oranir nods to the commends, "Yes, yes, we should seek them out, maybe in the Harbormaster's Office as someone mentioned, otherwise in one of the inns. It makes sense to seek them out first thing since we'll welcome their guidance on purchasing supplies that we might otherwise miss. After that, we'll have time to visit Grandfather Zitembe once again, and maybe some left for other activities?" the elf shrugs as he looks at the others, "Setting up our places at the races? Seeing what's wrong with these thefts at the bathhouse? Seeking that peculiar dwarvish poet who seems to have caught the attention of our friend here?" smirks as he indicates Vladimir with his chin.
Wakanga's palace was filled to the brim with all manners of folk, both common and noble, as the party was set to get underway. A feast was prepared like nothing he's seen before, roasted meats, cheeses, breads, pastries, exotic fruits, broiled vegetables, cakes, tarts, curds, candies, and a waterfall of near limitless tej outpouring from an ornate fountain. It smelt incredible and upped the overall ambience of this grand celebration.
Merrick strolled into the midst of the party in casual fashion, his new, freshly spun robes of bright gold flowing in the light jungle air. He spotted his companions dotted around the party, mingling with the feast-goers. He hears Sayaxrecount tales of valor to younglings in the hall and how, had it not been for Merrick's quick thinking, they surely would not have survived. He spots Laderanand Ashtear, and though he cannot hear them over the crowd, he sees them point excitedly in Merrick's direction as both give a tremendous thumbs up. As Merrick continues on, Vladimircatches up to him and points to a freshly etched emblem of a golden rose upon his breastplate, obviously a sincere gesture of respect towards Merrick's (adopted) order. Giving his friend a respectful pat on the shoulder, he finds himself suddenly distracted by a spectacle behind him.
Looking in the distance he sees Oranirweaving his hands about swirling blue mist. Using his gift of magic, the wizard creates an illusory scene of the final battle, where the companions fought valliantly against the final foe. As the crew grew weary and grim minions descended upon the party, the illusion of the firbolg suddenly shines with a surreal glow. Dancing around the mock battle, the monk image effortlessly danced through the darkness, slaying all the forces threatening his friends and delivering a final punch to the ultimate foe, eradicating it in a beam of light. Onlookers cheered as the scene transitioned to the party hoisting up a proud Merrick in triumph.
"Ahh, there you are my friend," the booming voice of Merchant Prince Wakanga cut through the procession, "or should I say, Grand Hero of Chult and Endbringer of the Dastardly Death Curse!"The crowd goes wild with cheers and clapping. Wakanga quiets the crowd down, but before he can speak again, another round of ovation overtakes the audience. Wakanga smiles and calls out with hands raised, "Please, please, we will have plenty of time to celebrate the accomplishments of Merrick and his friends. And it would not be a true celebration if we did not invite his order to witness these festivities!" Astonished, Merrick looks to where Wakanga gestures, and entering the hall marches the monastic Disciples of St. Sollars the Twice Martyred. Leading the monks in equally majestic attire is none other than Master Rhurker himself, with his smile beaming towards Merrick.
The crowd could not contain itself as infectious cheer and praise outpoured at this joyous event. People from all about the party began to flock to Merrick, giving him handshakes, hugs, friendly pats, and promises of recognition from those who were thankful but could not attend. Merrick grinned, raising his arm to his hair and took the compliments as respectfully as possible. Everyone seemed to have some form of praise for the firbolg. Surprisingly, even Taban had showed up to offer adoration. The gladiator strolled up to Merrick with a honest smile and called out, "Heh, you may be a wily monk, but you're all right in my book!" The gladiator winds up and delivers a playful jab to Merrick's chest.
The air rushed out of Merrick's belly as it catches Vladinir's shield. The pleasant smells of the feast and warmth of the crowd gave way to the smell of his unwashed tunic and stagnant jungle humidity. Merrick wipes his face with his paw, stretching his jaw as he tries to cling onto the dream he was having, but to no avail. He looks at the surprised Vladimir, though doesn't get upset. Instead, he grins and he moves his hand to scratch at his armpit and awkwardly breaks the silence, "Erm... Is it breakfast time already?"
Down at the breakfast hall, Merrick takes no time in piling up a plate full of delicious food and snacks. This was, of course, after ensuring that all of the food was included in the rate. He did not want to steal, but if these folks were to be kind enough to offer an expansive sampling of multiple dishes and bites, he should respectfully oblige them.
He listens to the group as they discuss plans and nods along, crunching on some mango slices that he was dipping into a small cup of Chakalaka. Seeing a chance to join in the conversation after Oranir finishes outlining potential plans, Merrick clears his throat and speaks up, "Erm... This all sounds good. May I offer, ummm... we can likely do all of these in order if we stay together this time. That way, uhhh... there will be more of us should anyone need assistance?" Though Merrick was recommending this innocently, the sight of Taban in his dreams gave him caution to try and avoid traveling in smaller groups as before. He looks approvingly towards Laderan and Ashtear for support in this recommendation. Safety in numbers, after all.
"Erm... Yes, let's start with the guides and pick up, ummm... supplies along the way?"
Vladimirfollows Merrickdown to breakfast, apologizing profusely the entire way. After being seated, he goes out of his way to bring food and drink from the buffet table to Merrick. In general, he nods along with the discussion, agreeing with the general plan of first finding a guide, then provisions, then doing something else (he'd prefer to see the dinosaur races, but he will not turn down the opportunity to do something to help the people of the city). When Oranirmentions the dwarven woman, Vladimirblushes beet red, but doesn't otherwise react.
Laderan nods at Oranir's suggestions but his reply is cut off by more of their varied group appearing at the glasshouse. He waits and greets each as they arrive, before picking up the strand of conversation again. "Guide first seems obvious, especially since they will work on a first come basis. So let's get the one we want snagged up and then we can look towards provisions. I quite like the idea to investigate some of these other threads before we go. As keen as I am to help out our current patrons, having fingers in multiple pies is a tastier dish." The ravbit-kin sees Merrick's ears perk up at his mention of pie, as he continues to tuck into his complimentary buffet.
Oranir was right, the conditions and food on offer whilst they were in the city would be sorely missed out in the jungles. Laderan had every intention to savour all that he could of the available.luxuries Chult had to offer. Whilst he wasn't as fussed about using the bathhouse as others, the probably lax security that allowed items to go missing certainly presented some other options.
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Bring out your inner chatacter class...
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Laderan returns to his private room from his now familiar pocket warren. It has been a strange experience, one of those quirky gifts that he was granted by the Djinn. He muses out loud, though still quietly - it is the middle of the night after all and there's every chance that there are prying ears other than his own. "Why here? I mean, you could have twisted that deal any number of ways. So why dump me on this plane, in a predicament that lands me and therefore your earring in a position where death is significantly more probable than profit?... Bah. You'll just watch my corpse rot and swindle the next idiot that comes along!" Maybe he'll get a response sometime. Tonight obviously was not that night though. Laderan checks his coin purse, notably happier about it's contents after today's small haul. Though he must make sure bot to be seen out with Merrick again, a harengon and a firbolg traveling together are likely to spark recognition in even the most dull-witted of tavern dwellers. He shrugs and decides that those are provlems for the new day before rolling over and falling back to sleep.
The sun sneaks in through the curtained window, gently telling the little rabbit-kin that the day has started and thus there are jobs to be done. After breakfast. Laderan dons his patchwork breeches, tugs his armor into place, and throws his customary hooded shawl on over the top. He heads out from the bedromm, locking the door behind him and leaving the hanging sign on the outside, declining 'housekeeping'... Whatever that was. He honestly couldn't see living in a house long term, and he'd learned that no-one lets you keep anything of value for free. So bo, he would let them have whatever house they might have been offering. Just the room was good enough for him, and that was expensive enough!
He foubd his way downstairs and immediately sought out the bar staff to enquire about food. Ashtear had suggested that they spend today gathering supplies, and Laderan had found that foraging was best done on a full stomach. Any time he had seen people try whilst thinking about food, they either ate half the stash before returning, or largely miscalculated what they would need. So a hesrty breakfast was an easy cure to that problem. He looked around for the others, but it appeared that he was the first to rise... Or the last, and everyone else had departed without him, which wasn't all that bad of an outcome if it were the case.
He settled in and waited for his food and companions to appear.
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
Wide awake for some hours now, Oranir had freshened however he could and changed robes, using another set of the same colors of black and gold. The elf arrives down at wherever food is served, nodding and similing creepily at the servants as he passed by, finally spotting his leporine companion and approaching, "Fair accommodations, we'd have to agree, hmm? While I miss the comfort of my family estate in Cormanthor, I reckon we will sorely miss these beds in but a few days." he says as he pulls a chair, tries to get the attention of any of the attendants nearby, smiling and pointing at the table as he sits down, expecting some food to be served soon. Looking at Laderan again "Well? What are our priorities for the day? Guide, supplies... While we have some preparation for the expedition, it's nothing that would deny us some other activities before the races and our departure. Did you hear that thing last night about the public bathhouse? I wonder if pulling on that string would be worth the backing of another merchant prince behind our expedition." the elf scratches his chin as he looks around at the attendants.
Art Portfolio
Vladimir awakens early, despite staying up late the night before in prayer. His thoughts regarding the dwarf last night left him troubled and poor Merrick seemed to have had a particularly hard time getting settled down. But the three hours of prayer and, now, the opportunity to practice his forms in the early morning had calmed his worried mind, allowing him to find peace in the familiar words and exercises. Carefully trying to be quiet, he practices the forms, dressed only in a loincloth. The motions mimic martial actions, but they allow him to find a pool of calm. His breathing slows, his pulse stirs, he feels alive and fresh. Finishing his morning devotions, he carefully checks over his armor and his weapon, making sure they are clean, well-oiled, and ready for action. As he dresses, he thinks about the day's tasks. Probably they first must find a guide and then go with them to acquire provisions and other gear for the trip to the interior. He wonders where they will meet Inete. He is not really paying attention to what he is doing any more and, as a result, he fumbles with his shield when he attempts to strap it to his back. Unfortunately, as he scrambles to catch it, he winds up knocking it directly, and quite forcefully, into Merrick's belly.
Tamryn - lvl 4 Wood Elf Rogue - Circle of Light Campaign || Drusilla - lvl 1 Half-Elf Ranger - Sleeping Gods || Grrzark - lvl 1 Goblin Barbarian - Danger at Darkshelf Quarry || DM - LTG - Curse of Strahd
Attendants knock gently at each door, offering hot, fresh water for bathing, along with little soaps shaped like palm fronds and smelling of clean ocean air, or tropical fruit.
Passing into the restaurant, a new and unfamiliar attendant works the front desk, but greets you with a hearty "Pleasant morning!" as though you have met many times.
For those who have paid the all-inclusive rate, a breakfast buffet is stationed in the restaurant's glasshouse, where bright sunlight peeps through the fronds of palms and filters in through the room's glass walls and ceiling. Tropical birds sing from the trees outside, and crystal water cascades from magically animated fountains stationed in each corner. A harpist, a halfling female dressed in light blue robes, plucks at an instrument appropriately proportioned for her stature. The buffet is generous and contains a little of everything from the menu (see #library), and a station near the door is set up for make-your-own Bloody Zariels.
After the incredible accommodations, Sayax slowly wakes and lays in bed a bit, enjoying his location. He hears the attendant knock at the door and graciously accepts the hot water for bathing. Once done and ready to face the day, he heads down to join his companions.
Being one of the last down, he tries to quickly eat his breakfast to not slow any plans for the upcoming day. "So, where do we want to head first? Shall we acquire a guide?"
Nodding along, "Seems like the best plan! After all.They might need time to get things together as well. This is no meager excursion...if it goes right."
Oranir nods to the commends, "Yes, yes, we should seek them out, maybe in the Harbormaster's Office as someone mentioned, otherwise in one of the inns. It makes sense to seek them out first thing since we'll welcome their guidance on purchasing supplies that we might otherwise miss. After that, we'll have time to visit Grandfather Zitembe once again, and maybe some left for other activities?" the elf shrugs as he looks at the others, "Setting up our places at the races? Seeing what's wrong with these thefts at the bathhouse? Seeking that peculiar dwarvish poet who seems to have caught the attention of our friend here?" smirks as he indicates Vladimir with his chin.
Art Portfolio
Wakanga's palace was filled to the brim with all manners of folk, both common and noble, as the party was set to get underway. A feast was prepared like nothing he's seen before, roasted meats, cheeses, breads, pastries, exotic fruits, broiled vegetables, cakes, tarts, curds, candies, and a waterfall of near limitless tej outpouring from an ornate fountain. It smelt incredible and upped the overall ambience of this grand celebration.
Merrick strolled into the midst of the party in casual fashion, his new, freshly spun robes of bright gold flowing in the light jungle air. He spotted his companions dotted around the party, mingling with the feast-goers. He hears Sayax recount tales of valor to younglings in the hall and how, had it not been for Merrick's quick thinking, they surely would not have survived. He spots Laderan and Ashtear, and though he cannot hear them over the crowd, he sees them point excitedly in Merrick's direction as both give a tremendous thumbs up. As Merrick continues on, Vladimir catches up to him and points to a freshly etched emblem of a golden rose upon his breastplate, obviously a sincere gesture of respect towards Merrick's (adopted) order. Giving his friend a respectful pat on the shoulder, he finds himself suddenly distracted by a spectacle behind him.
Looking in the distance he sees Oranir weaving his hands about swirling blue mist. Using his gift of magic, the wizard creates an illusory scene of the final battle, where the companions fought valliantly against the final foe. As the crew grew weary and grim minions descended upon the party, the illusion of the firbolg suddenly shines with a surreal glow. Dancing around the mock battle, the monk image effortlessly danced through the darkness, slaying all the forces threatening his friends and delivering a final punch to the ultimate foe, eradicating it in a beam of light. Onlookers cheered as the scene transitioned to the party hoisting up a proud Merrick in triumph.
"Ahh, there you are my friend," the booming voice of Merchant Prince Wakanga cut through the procession, "or should I say, Grand Hero of Chult and Endbringer of the Dastardly Death Curse!" The crowd goes wild with cheers and clapping. Wakanga quiets the crowd down, but before he can speak again, another round of ovation overtakes the audience. Wakanga smiles and calls out with hands raised, "Please, please, we will have plenty of time to celebrate the accomplishments of Merrick and his friends. And it would not be a true celebration if we did not invite his order to witness these festivities!" Astonished, Merrick looks to where Wakanga gestures, and entering the hall marches the monastic Disciples of St. Sollars the Twice Martyred. Leading the monks in equally majestic attire is none other than Master Rhurker himself, with his smile beaming towards Merrick.
The crowd could not contain itself as infectious cheer and praise outpoured at this joyous event. People from all about the party began to flock to Merrick, giving him handshakes, hugs, friendly pats, and promises of recognition from those who were thankful but could not attend. Merrick grinned, raising his arm to his hair and took the compliments as respectfully as possible. Everyone seemed to have some form of praise for the firbolg. Surprisingly, even Taban had showed up to offer adoration. The gladiator strolled up to Merrick with a honest smile and called out, "Heh, you may be a wily monk, but you're all right in my book!" The gladiator winds up and delivers a playful jab to Merrick's chest.
The air rushed out of Merrick's belly as it catches Vladinir's shield. The pleasant smells of the feast and warmth of the crowd gave way to the smell of his unwashed tunic and stagnant jungle humidity. Merrick wipes his face with his paw, stretching his jaw as he tries to cling onto the dream he was having, but to no avail. He looks at the surprised Vladimir, though doesn't get upset. Instead, he grins and he moves his hand to scratch at his armpit and awkwardly breaks the silence, "Erm... Is it breakfast time already?"
Down at the breakfast hall, Merrick takes no time in piling up a plate full of delicious food and snacks. This was, of course, after ensuring that all of the food was included in the rate. He did not want to steal, but if these folks were to be kind enough to offer an expansive sampling of multiple dishes and bites, he should respectfully oblige them.
He listens to the group as they discuss plans and nods along, crunching on some mango slices that he was dipping into a small cup of Chakalaka. Seeing a chance to join in the conversation after Oranir finishes outlining potential plans, Merrick clears his throat and speaks up, "Erm... This all sounds good. May I offer, ummm... we can likely do all of these in order if we stay together this time. That way, uhhh... there will be more of us should anyone need assistance?" Though Merrick was recommending this innocently, the sight of Taban in his dreams gave him caution to try and avoid traveling in smaller groups as before. He looks approvingly towards Laderan and Ashtear for support in this recommendation. Safety in numbers, after all.
"Erm... Yes, let's start with the guides and pick up, ummm... supplies along the way?"
Vladimir follows Merrick down to breakfast, apologizing profusely the entire way. After being seated, he goes out of his way to bring food and drink from the buffet table to Merrick. In general, he nods along with the discussion, agreeing with the general plan of first finding a guide, then provisions, then doing something else (he'd prefer to see the dinosaur races, but he will not turn down the opportunity to do something to help the people of the city). When Oranir mentions the dwarven woman, Vladimir blushes beet red, but doesn't otherwise react.
Tamryn - lvl 4 Wood Elf Rogue - Circle of Light Campaign || Drusilla - lvl 1 Half-Elf Ranger - Sleeping Gods || Grrzark - lvl 1 Goblin Barbarian - Danger at Darkshelf Quarry || DM - LTG - Curse of Strahd
Laderan nods at Oranir's suggestions but his reply is cut off by more of their varied group appearing at the glasshouse. He waits and greets each as they arrive, before picking up the strand of conversation again. "Guide first seems obvious, especially since they will work on a first come basis. So let's get the one we want snagged up and then we can look towards provisions. I quite like the idea to investigate some of these other threads before we go. As keen as I am to help out our current patrons, having fingers in multiple pies is a tastier dish." The ravbit-kin sees Merrick's ears perk up at his mention of pie, as he continues to tuck into his complimentary buffet.
Oranir was right, the conditions and food on offer whilst they were in the city would be sorely missed out in the jungles. Laderan had every intention to savour all that he could of the available.luxuries Chult had to offer. Whilst he wasn't as fussed about using the bathhouse as others, the probably lax security that allowed items to go missing certainly presented some other options.
Bring out your inner chatacter class...