Daegal gives a respectful bow. "It is an honor to be called upon by you and to be called a friend. Do you know anyone who has been affected by this magic that you mentioned in your summons? Or do you have any further knowledge about it?"
Agathar bows his head, moving closer to the bottle of wine. He wants to act like he doesn't care... but while he pours the wine and sits, he studies his host. Why a mask has to be weared? Why should he conceal his voice under those raspy sounds?
"Your message spoke about a great menace... And your words were no jokes. This curse seems to have spread also in my homeland." The dragonborn put his fingers on his chin. "Have you maybe any clues on the source of it?"
The Paladin looks around at the room and its guests. He intentionally doesn't answer the "friend" question: Trust has to be gained before that... but he doesn't want to emphasize it either.
It seems there are people other than himself, so he bows his head in greeting.
He is a dragonborn male, 7 feet tall, with silverly scales. Actually only the scales on his head and face can be seen, since the rest of his body is covered by a shining, decorated armor. The eyes, navy blue, try to meet the gaze of his fellow guests: indeed he strongly believes that deep inside the eyes you can see one's true soul.
Daegal nods in return with a brief glance as he looks at the others in the room.
Daegal is average height, with greyish skin and dark black hair. Even the green and brown leathers he wears have a dullness to them. Herbs and moss poke out of various pockets in his clothing.
Leafric will look over at the dragonborn, meeting his gaze intently, assessing him back with bright emerald green eyes. You see a lithe female that appears to be in her late 20's with ears coming to a point through shoulder length white hair half pulled up into a small bun. On the shorter side for a half-elf, standing around 5 feet tall, she dons dark leathers that look messily hand sewn with an assortment of threads— perhaps homemade and well battered.
You see purpose and determination in her furrowed brow, intent on a mission, though you're unsure if it's the one you've all gathered for or what she was in the middle of before arriving.
“I was an adventurer years ago. I died once and was raised from the dead. I have since closed the door on that stage of my life.”
“The death curse, for that is the name of this affliction, you’ve heard about has struck me. I don’t know how much longer I’ll last before I perish. Clerics have no help to offer. They’re stymied by what is happening.”
“My contacts in the Harpers have learned that the cause of the death curse is a necromantic artifact called the Soulmonger. According to their sources, the Soulmonger is somewhere in Chult.”
“Chult is a peninsula ringed with mountains and choked with rain forests. Enormous reptiles, hostile goblins, and an army of undead prowl its jungles and ruins. Mapping the place has always been nigh impossible, and nothing is known about the region’s current geography beyond a few miles from the coast.”
“Working from dozens of sea charts, log books, and explorers’ journals, I assembled everything known about the current state of Chult into one map. I’ll provide it to you if you undertake my mission.”
“When you’re ready to depart, I will teleport us all to Port Nyanzaru, the only major settlement in Chult. I’ve been there several times before, so there’s little chance of mishap. Once there, I’ll stay with a friend named Wakanga O’tamu. He’s one of seven merchant princes who rule the city.”
That's why the mask and the voice... desperate poor soul, she is in first line in this struggle. The dragonborn gets up from his chair.
"I see there is little time to waste in dwelling about. I'm ready to go and see that peninsula of yours." Agathar turns to the other two adventurers. "Please to meet you, I'm Agathar of the Steelbringer family. It seems we'll journey togheter in search for this evil artifact. I hope you will forgive my poor manners". The paladin smiles, as well as a dragonborn can.
OOC To DM: We haven't talked about character sheets. Am I correct to assume we are level 1 characters?
A rather plump man in scale armor, mace and shield makes his way in. Salutations, I am brother Elten Rainheart. Upon receiving your invitation the church thought it'd be a good idea for me to accept and investigate your situation.
A rather plump man in scale armor, mace and shield makes his way in. Salutations, I am brother Elten Rainheart. Upon receiving your invitation the church thought it'd be a good idea for me to accept and investigate your situation.
"Well met, brother. I'm Agathar Steelbringer, novice Paladine from the temple of Hoar. What church have sent you here, if I may ask?"
I am a member of the Death Clergy, servant of Kelemvor, Lord of the Dead, Judge of the Damned, Master of the Crystal Spire, and The Great Guide. as he talks he pulls his hood back and you see his silver headband, pulls his grey cloak aside to reveal his badge of Kelemvor, the sliver scales indicate his rank with the order. Hanging from his belt the gray domino mask worn by adventuring priest of Kelemvor.
Leafric will nod to all the introductions and add, “Quite the group you’ve assembled here, Archmage. I’m Leafric Callister, I try to do what’s right but my methods bother some. This artifact can not be allowed to continue its wanton destruction of life, especially second chance lives that are being used to better the world.” She’ll set her goblet on the table and rise “Chult is a long way from home, but I am ready to depart at once. I trust your abilities in delivering us safely.”
You appear in a tropical city under the blazing sun. The familiar sounds of a harbor — creaking ropes, slapping waves, heavy barrels rolling across cobblestones — mingle with voices shouting and cursing in an unfamiliar language filled with clicks, inhalations, and singsongy words that make it sound almost musical. The aroma of unfamiliar spices and tropical fruit mixes with the wharfside smells of fish, tar, and canvas.
Beyond all that, Port Nyanzaru is an explosion of color. Buildings are painted in bright shades of blue, green, orange, and salmon pink, or their walls are adorned with murals portraying giant reptiles and mythical heroes. Every building sports baskets and clay urns of colorful flowers or is draped in leafy, flowering vines. Minstrels in bright clothing adorned with feathers and shells perform on street corners. Multicolored pennants and sun awnings flutter atop the city walls. A crowd of children dressed in feathered hats and capes races past you, squealing in delighted terror as a street performer costumed as a big-toothed lizard stomps and roars behind them. The whole city seems to be bustling, sweating, laughing, swearing, and singing.
By your side stands Sylvia. She advises: “I recommend that you find a room to stay in. The Thundering Lizard inn is a bit rowdy, while Kayas house of repose does grant a good nights sleep. I shall stay at my friend Wakanga‘s house, he is one of the merchant princes that rule this place.“
Agathar looks around, little puzzled by the instant teleportation. "Nice colors here, though the sounds left my ears in pain" says he with a too loud voice. Then to the shadar-kai: "I do have some coins. I won't disdain a night in the house of repose, even if it could be a little more expensive." Accustomed to a wealthy lifestyle, the paladin has become a little picky when he has the chance to choose.
Leafric has never seen so much revelry outside of a summer solstice celebration she saw in a large city once. Is this how coastal cities are all the time? She takes in her companions' opinions, "I've slept on the ground, any form of bed will be a welcome start to this trip. If the Thundering Lizard is rowdier, then what I'm hearing is lips loosened by ale and wine. Loose lips with potential information or rumors about what's ahead of us." She raises her eyebrows in question, testing the waters of how the group might feel about the plan.
She looks up at Agathar, "I'm more than happy to lay my head at the house of repose at the end of the night. It might be loud at the inn, are you going to be okay?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Rori // Phandelver
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Daegal gives a respectful bow. "It is an honor to be called upon by you and to be called a friend. Do you know anyone who has been affected by this magic that you mentioned in your summons? Or do you have any further knowledge about it?"
Agathar bows his head, moving closer to the bottle of wine. He wants to act like he doesn't care... but while he pours the wine and sits, he studies his host.
Why a mask has to be weared? Why should he conceal his voice under those raspy sounds?
"Your message spoke about a great menace... And your words were no jokes. This curse seems to have spread also in my homeland." The dragonborn put his fingers on his chin. "Have you maybe any clues on the source of it?"
The Paladin looks around at the room and its guests. He intentionally doesn't answer the "friend" question: Trust has to be gained before that... but he doesn't want to emphasize it either.
It seems there are people other than himself, so he bows his head in greeting.
He is a dragonborn male, 7 feet tall, with silverly scales. Actually only the scales on his head and face can be seen, since the rest of his body is covered by a shining, decorated armor.
The eyes, navy blue, try to meet the gaze of his fellow guests: indeed he strongly believes that deep inside the eyes you can see one's true soul.
Daegal nods in return with a brief glance as he looks at the others in the room.
Daegal is average height, with greyish skin and dark black hair. Even the green and brown leathers he wears have a dullness to them. Herbs and moss poke out of various pockets in his clothing.
Leafric will look over at the dragonborn, meeting his gaze intently, assessing him back with bright emerald green eyes. You see a lithe female that appears to be in her late 20's with ears coming to a point through shoulder length white hair half pulled up into a small bun. On the shorter side for a half-elf, standing around 5 feet tall, she dons dark leathers that look messily hand sewn with an assortment of threads— perhaps homemade and well battered.
You see purpose and determination in her furrowed brow, intent on a mission, though you're unsure if it's the one you've all gathered for or what she was in the middle of before arriving.
Rori // Phandelver
She shares the following information with you:
That's why the mask and the voice... desperate poor soul, she is in first line in this struggle.
The dragonborn gets up from his chair.
"I see there is little time to waste in dwelling about. I'm ready to go and see that peninsula of yours."
Agathar turns to the other two adventurers. "Please to meet you, I'm Agathar of the Steelbringer family. It seems we'll journey togheter in search for this evil artifact. I hope you will forgive my poor manners". The paladin smiles, as well as a dragonborn can.
OOC To DM: We haven't talked about character sheets. Am I correct to assume we are level 1 characters?
Yes, all level 1
The campign link is https://www.dndbeyond.com/campaigns/join/56629012872879067
A rather plump man in scale armor, mace and shield makes his way in. Salutations, I am brother Elten Rainheart. Upon receiving your invitation the church thought it'd be a good idea for me to accept and investigate your situation.
"I'm Daegal. It's a pleasure to meet all of you. I'm ready to leave when the rest of you are."
OOC: I'm getting a page not found error when I try the campaign link.
OOC: You're right. Try to get rid of that at the end of the link. That is: https://www.dndbeyond.com/campaigns/join/56629012872879067
"Well met, brother. I'm Agathar Steelbringer, novice Paladine from the temple of Hoar. What church have sent you here, if I may ask?"
I am a member of the Death Clergy, servant of Kelemvor, Lord of the Dead, Judge of the Damned, Master of the Crystal Spire, and The Great Guide. as he talks he pulls his hood back and you see his silver headband, pulls his grey cloak aside to reveal his badge of Kelemvor, the sliver scales indicate his rank with the order. Hanging from his belt the gray domino mask worn by adventuring priest of Kelemvor.
Leafric will nod to all the introductions and add, “Quite the group you’ve assembled here, Archmage. I’m Leafric Callister, I try to do what’s right but my methods bother some. This artifact can not be allowed to continue its wanton destruction of life, especially second chance lives that are being used to better the world.”
She’ll set her goblet on the table and rise “Chult is a long way from home, but I am ready to depart at once. I trust your abilities in delivering us safely.”
Rori // Phandelver
You See a bright flash.
You appear in a tropical city under the blazing sun. The familiar sounds of a harbor — creaking ropes, slapping waves, heavy barrels rolling across cobblestones — mingle with voices shouting and cursing in an unfamiliar language filled with clicks, inhalations, and singsongy words that make it sound almost musical. The aroma of unfamiliar spices and tropical fruit mixes with the wharfside smells of fish, tar, and canvas.
Beyond all that, Port Nyanzaru is an explosion of color. Buildings are painted in bright shades of blue, green, orange, and salmon pink, or their walls are adorned with murals portraying giant reptiles and mythical heroes. Every building sports baskets and clay urns of colorful flowers or is draped in leafy, flowering vines. Minstrels in bright clothing adorned with feathers and shells perform on street corners. Multicolored pennants and sun awnings flutter atop the city walls. A crowd of children dressed in feathered hats and capes races past you, squealing in delighted terror as a street performer costumed as a big-toothed lizard stomps and roars behind them. The whole city seems to be bustling, sweating, laughing, swearing, and singing.
By your side stands Sylvia. She advises: “I recommend that you find a room to stay in. The Thundering Lizard inn is a bit rowdy, while Kayas house of repose does grant a good nights sleep. I shall stay at my friend Wakanga‘s house, he is one of the merchant princes that rule this place.“
"Thank you, I hope we can return with good news soon."
Turning to the others, "What do you guys think? Should we check out both of those inns before we decide?"
the young cleric glancing around, his slack jawed expression of awe at the sights and smells, shakes his head absently and mumbles yeah...yes...yeah
Agathar looks around, little puzzled by the instant teleportation.
"Nice colors here, though the sounds left my ears in pain" says he with a too loud voice. Then to the shadar-kai: "I do have some coins. I won't disdain a night in the house of repose, even if it could be a little more expensive."
Accustomed to a wealthy lifestyle, the paladin has become a little picky when he has the chance to choose.
Leafric has never seen so much revelry outside of a summer solstice celebration she saw in a large city once. Is this how coastal cities are all the time? She takes in her companions' opinions, "I've slept on the ground, any form of bed will be a welcome start to this trip. If the Thundering Lizard is rowdier, then what I'm hearing is lips loosened by ale and wine. Loose lips with potential information or rumors about what's ahead of us." She raises her eyebrows in question, testing the waters of how the group might feel about the plan.
She looks up at Agathar, "I'm more than happy to lay my head at the house of repose at the end of the night. It might be loud at the inn, are you going to be okay?"
Rori // Phandelver