For the past several days, the talk of the streets and taverns has all been about the so-called death curse: a wasting disease afflicting everyone who’s ever been raised from the dead. Victims grow thinner and weaker each day, slowly but steadily sliding toward the death they once denied. When they finally succumb, they can’t be raised — and neither can anyone else, regardless of whether they’ve ever received that miracle in the past. Temples and scholars of divine magic are at a loss to explain a curse that has affected the entire region, and possibly the entire world.
While walking through the house, you see a bright blue skinned frog person, lightly armed and armored in practical dull colors. He peaks softly while walking, "Hi, I'm Frederik. Glad to see some cordial faces," He gives you all a thumbs up.
After meeting the supposed host, Frederik nods and smiles, "I don't partake, thank you for the offer though. I'm Frederik Apopo and in these times friends are good to have." He waits for everybody else to enter, standing to the side trying not to touch anything.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
Thrash looked out of place as he stepped into the finely furnished room. The clawed feet and heavy scaled tail of the lizardfolk threatened to scratch the hardwood floorboards that creaked under his weight.
Wearing little more than a leather loincloth and a few scraps of armor that do little to cover his hulking figure, He silently approaches the table. Ignoring the goblets, he takes one of the bottles of wine and moves towards an empty seat. With one hand holding the wine, he uses the other to remove his pack and the ornately carved bone longbow from his back and places it carefully next to the chair. A moment later the chair groans as the large green-scaled figure drops down onto the cushioned seat.
Once seated, Thrash turns his blocky alligator-like head towards the host. He then twists a clawed finger into the cork of the wine bottle like a corkscrew and pulls it out with a loud pop. "My name's Thrash... but I guess you already know that..."
Thrash takes a long drink from the wine bottle before continuing. "So who are you and what do you want from me?" He asks red wine drips from his razor sharp teeth on to his chest.
he then takes his hand and wipes the liquid from his scales before looking around to the other guests...
Among those gathered is a pale woman in dark clothes, the only hint of color a few gold accents on an outfit of only black and white. She is unarmored. She seems lost in thought as the group gathers in this stranger's home, her fingers tracing the fine wooden furniture almost lovingly. Those unfamiliar with shadar-kai would still be able to tell that she was some variety of elf, drenched in gloom and shadow. When invited to drink, she does not hesitate, uncorking a fresh bottle and pouring a glass. She takes a sip immediately, closing her eyes as she savors the cabernet, her tongue playing over her teeth. She makes sure to fill her wineglass nearly to the rim before finding a seat and introducing herself. Her voice is subdued, almost monotonous, as if you are all wasting her time.
"You have a delightful abode, Syndra Silvane." She briefly turns her head to the motley assortment of adventurers also gathered here. "My name is Thalara."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
Barn's grin betrays an almost absurd amount of relief that someone has uncorked a bottle of wine first (besides the bottle that the lizardfolk took for himself), since he hasn't the faintest clue how to uncork one himself. He bobs his head and smiles at Thalara in thanks.
The big man is a good six and a half feet tall, or might be if he would stop slouching. While his stature suggests there is a touch of goliath in his blood, his partially tapered ears also indicate elven somewhere in his ancestry as well. While the chain mail he wears and the maul and javelins at his back look decently-cared for, his hesitant grin is more earnest than it is sharp. The symbol of Eldath adorns his armor.
"Hullo, ah... Miss Sylvane, Thalara, Thrash, Fro-, ah... Fred. I'm Barn and I'm... I'm not really sure why I'm here..."
He trails off uncertainly as he (very carefully) pours himself a glass of wine with his huge hands. "Something about a, ah... curse, maybe?"
"Welcome to my home," says the masked figure, the voice dry and cracked. "My name is indeed Syndra Sylvane. I thank you all for coming."
"The death curse...yes...that is why I have summoned you here today," she says in her strange, croaky voice. "Long ago I was an adventurer like yourselves. Unfortunately I fell afoul of a particularly brutal troll and was slain. One of my companions, a powerful cleric, was able to raise me from the dead. Now I am afflicted by the death curse. I am slowly wasting away, and I fear I have not much time left before I perish. I have talked to clerics, and they cannot help me or anyone like me who has been raised from the dead. We are all doomed to die again and quickly if this curse is not ended."
Syndra touches the edge of her mask lightly and looks down upon the maps on her desk. "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. As some of you know, the land of 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."
When she speaks of Chult, her face turns toward Thrash. She pauses as if waiting for someone to comment or ask a question.
"Yes, my family had heard rumors about these events. I am sorry to hear of your suffering. I am not a healer myself so cannot help you directly, but you said those solutions no longer work anyway," Fred shakes his head. "You have gathered us together to pursue a solution and I'm in. The only thing I need is transportation and supplies to get there. Aside from what we win from this Soulmonger, feeling secure about my father's health is enough reward."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
Thrash listens to the host while taking another long drink from the bottle. After Syndra finishes talking, a large toothy grin spreads across his face. "I See..." He says while placing the nearly empty bottle of wine on a nearby end table. "Well you are mostly right... There are hordes of undead and monstrous beasts that call Chult home." The lizardfolk then stands up and takes a step towards Sybdra "But there is a map... and I'm the only one that's got it." He adds while pointing a clawed finger towards the side of his wide and scaley skull. "I've lived in the jungles of Chult my whole life... and killed countless undead... but why should I work for you?" Thrash asks before turning to look at the others to see how they feel about their hosts mission...
Thalara listens intently as their masked host details the nature of this 'death curse' and how it might be stopped. Her expression remains calm, a porcelain mask of stoicism. But her gaze is transfixed on Syndra as she does her best to drink in all this information - of a Soulmonger, of Chult. Her gaze flickers to the other adventurers, the hint of a scowl as the frog-man Fred spills his platitudes. Her eyes narrow further as Thrash brags about his physical prowess and suggests he might not be cooperative. But her mouth remains shut, parting only to indulge in another mouthful of red wine.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
Barn remains relatively oblivious to the subtleties of the others' reactions to Syndra's account of the Death Curse and Soul Monger.
"Ch-choked with rain forests?" Barn only stutters a little as he listens to the description of Chult. "I think forests are nice. But choking isn't nice. Or undead either. I'll go, though. I mean, if you want me to." His guileless hazel eyes glance at Thrash, then back. "It's the right thing to do."
His fingers absently brush the small symbol of Eldath to one side of the his armor's chest plate.
The sound of footsteps is heard on the stairs, with a barely perceptible 'skrtch-skrtch' of claws accompanying each step. There is a single light tap on the door before it swings open and a tabaxi woman walks in. Her neatly combed fur is swirled in patterns of orange and cream. She wears a long leather coat and bracers of some silvery metal that gleam in the light of the room; oddly enough, the fur of one forepaw also seems to sparkle slightly in the firelight. "Apologies for coming late. I would have been here sooner, but when I asked about this job, someone saw fit to tell me I should look for the house of one 'Sylva Sindrane'. It took a little while to straighten out the error. But all errors can be corrected, with time and effort. At least the ones I've run into so far." She looks down at her sparkling paw, an odd expression on her face. "I hear you're looking for help correcting a much more grave problem, though. Sounds interesting, if there's room for one more."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
At Thrash's question, Sylvane merely cocks her head. "That is a fair enough question," she responds in her raspy voice. "In my long years adventuring I have collected many interesting magical items. As a reward for seeking the source of the curse and destroying it, I will grant each of you one such magic item as a boon. Aside from me, however, I expect you'll likely come across much hidden treasure in the jungles of Chult."
Sylvane returns to her maps. "While you may be more familiar with Chult than the others as it is your homeland, I will still gift you all this map I have created. Working from dozens of sea charts, log books, and explorers’ journals, I assembled everything known about the current state of Chult into this map. Even with all that knowledge, the interior of Chult is largely unknown."
She pauses for a moment and raises one hand, marking her fingers off one by one as she counts. "Once you are ready I can teleport us to Port Nyanzaru. I have a scroll ready for the occasion."
Lysandra Windwalker steps into the marketplace, her eyes scanning the crowd with purpose. Her forest-green robes, adorned with feathers and intricate leaf patterns, rustle softly as she moves. She carries a staff carved from an ancient tree, its surface etched with druidic runes that seem to pulse with an inner light. The sprig of mistletoe tucked into her hair glows faintly, a symbol of her connection to the primal forces of the jungle.
Thalara looks on, bemused, as the cat-person makes a late entrance. There was something about her fur. . .
The shadar-kai catches herself, fighting the urge to reach out and feel the texture of the well-groomed tabaxi. She bites down hard on her lip and focuses back on Sylvane.
"Those are certainly agreeable terms. Perhaps after your death is abated, you can tell us more about this interesting life of yours. I would be interested in sharing your memories."
Thalara stands up, glancing around the room once more, as if trying to memorize its contents, before gesturing to Sylvane to proceed.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
Thrash considers the offer before giving a small nod. "You'll need the help of a friend of mine... Lysandra Windwalker. She's at port Nyanzaru in Chult... I assume she would be granted a magical item too right?" The lizardfolk asks as he prepares to be teleported. Before the spell is cast, the large scaly figure moves to the table and picks up another bottle of wine for the road and his bone bow.
The tabaxi chuckles at Barn's apparent confusion. "Teleport. A useful trick sometimes." She points her bracers downwards and flexes her paws. Three slender nozzles emerge from each and spray out a small cloud of light blue mist, which swirls up and envelops her. This quickly clears away, seeming to have taken the cat woman with it; but a moment later she reappears next to the table. She reaches out to take a bottle of wine for herself, her coat parting as she does to reveal a corslet of well-oiled scale mail. "And sometimes far more than that. I'd imagine our employer's scroll could take us to Kara-Tur or Zakhara, had the problem been located there. But the fire-dancers of my clan considered such tricks ... a less than elegant solution; so I didn't learn them until later in life. An -- unfortunate accident. But useful." She pauses with a strange look in her eyes; seems about to say more, and then thinks better of it. Instead she says, "Not terribly elegant not to introduce myself, either, since we'll be traveling together. I am Ryshraxea, fire twin of clan Naranthi. You can call me Shra for short."
Thrash gives the tabaxi a tilted look as though he isn't sure what to make of her. "My name's Thrash... Thrash slaughterscale... the last of the Slaughterscale tribe." The lizardfolk before breaking eyecontact with the tabaxi and looking at the bottle of wine in his hand instead. "I'm an hunter and tracker... I specialize in killing the undead... or... re-killing them... or.. you could say killing them harder... I guess." He growls.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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In the city of Baldur's Gate...
For the past several days, the talk of the streets and taverns has all been about the so-called death curse: a wasting disease afflicting everyone who’s ever been raised from the dead. Victims grow thinner and weaker each day, slowly but steadily sliding toward the death they once denied. When they finally succumb, they can’t be raised — and neither can anyone else, regardless of whether they’ve ever received that miracle in the past. Temples and scholars of divine magic are at a loss to explain a curse that has affected the entire region, and possibly the entire world.
Extended Signature
Characters: Bryony Alderleaf - Lvl. 4 Halfling Rogue (The Shattered Obelisk) ♦ Vesta Trevelyan - Lvl. 10 Half-Elf Sorcerer (Eve of Ruin) ♦ Ada Kendrick - Lvl. 4 Aasimar Paladin (Curse of Strahd) ♦ Selene Albion - Lvl. 12 Human Ranger (In-Person Homebrew Campaign) ♦ Phaerdra Tor'viir - Lvl. 3 Drow Wizard (Exandria Sandbox Campaign)
While walking through the house, you see a bright blue skinned frog person, lightly armed and armored in practical dull colors. He peaks softly while walking, "Hi, I'm Frederik. Glad to see some cordial faces," He gives you all a thumbs up.
After meeting the supposed host, Frederik nods and smiles, "I don't partake, thank you for the offer though. I'm Frederik Apopo and in these times friends are good to have." He waits for everybody else to enter, standing to the side trying not to touch anything.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Thrash looked out of place as he stepped into the finely furnished room. The clawed feet and heavy scaled tail of the lizardfolk threatened to scratch the hardwood floorboards that creaked under his weight.
Wearing little more than a leather loincloth and a few scraps of armor that do little to cover his hulking figure, He silently approaches the table. Ignoring the goblets, he takes one of the bottles of wine and moves towards an empty seat. With one hand holding the wine, he uses the other to remove his pack and the ornately carved bone longbow from his back and places it carefully next to the chair. A moment later the chair groans as the large green-scaled figure drops down onto the cushioned seat.
Once seated, Thrash turns his blocky alligator-like head towards the host. He then twists a clawed finger into the cork of the wine bottle like a corkscrew and pulls it out with a loud pop. "My name's Thrash... but I guess you already know that..."
Thrash takes a long drink from the wine bottle before continuing. "So who are you and what do you want from me?" He asks red wine drips from his razor sharp teeth on to his chest.
he then takes his hand and wipes the liquid from his scales before looking around to the other guests...
Among those gathered is a pale woman in dark clothes, the only hint of color a few gold accents on an outfit of only black and white. She is unarmored. She seems lost in thought as the group gathers in this stranger's home, her fingers tracing the fine wooden furniture almost lovingly. Those unfamiliar with shadar-kai would still be able to tell that she was some variety of elf, drenched in gloom and shadow. When invited to drink, she does not hesitate, uncorking a fresh bottle and pouring a glass. She takes a sip immediately, closing her eyes as she savors the cabernet, her tongue playing over her teeth. She makes sure to fill her wineglass nearly to the rim before finding a seat and introducing herself. Her voice is subdued, almost monotonous, as if you are all wasting her time.
"You have a delightful abode, Syndra Silvane." She briefly turns her head to the motley assortment of adventurers also gathered here. "My name is Thalara."
Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
Barn's grin betrays an almost absurd amount of relief that someone has uncorked a bottle of wine first (besides the bottle that the lizardfolk took for himself), since he hasn't the faintest clue how to uncork one himself. He bobs his head and smiles at Thalara in thanks.
The big man is a good six and a half feet tall, or might be if he would stop slouching. While his stature suggests there is a touch of goliath in his blood, his partially tapered ears also indicate elven somewhere in his ancestry as well. While the chain mail he wears and the maul and javelins at his back look decently-cared for, his hesitant grin is more earnest than it is sharp. The symbol of Eldath adorns his armor.
"Hullo, ah... Miss Sylvane, Thalara, Thrash, Fro-, ah... Fred. I'm Barn and I'm... I'm not really sure why I'm here..."
He trails off uncertainly as he (very carefully) pours himself a glass of wine with his huge hands. "Something about a, ah... curse, maybe?"
Inge(Barbarian2): Krayveneer's After the Fall | Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1): Uhtred's Windward Isles | Xarian(Fighter1): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(Druid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Nivi(Rogue4): Raiketsu's CoS
Joren(Fighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Toa(Barbarian6/Fighter4): MrWhisker's Dark Lord's Return | Sabetha(Monk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court
"Welcome to my home," says the masked figure, the voice dry and cracked. "My name is indeed Syndra Sylvane. I thank you all for coming."
"The death curse...yes...that is why I have summoned you here today," she says in her strange, croaky voice. "Long ago I was an adventurer like yourselves. Unfortunately I fell afoul of a particularly brutal troll and was slain. One of my companions, a powerful cleric, was able to raise me from the dead. Now I am afflicted by the death curse. I am slowly wasting away, and I fear I have not much time left before I perish. I have talked to clerics, and they cannot help me or anyone like me who has been raised from the dead. We are all doomed to die again and quickly if this curse is not ended."
Syndra touches the edge of her mask lightly and looks down upon the maps on her desk. "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. As some of you know, the land of 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."
When she speaks of Chult, her face turns toward Thrash. She pauses as if waiting for someone to comment or ask a question.
Extended Signature
Characters: Bryony Alderleaf - Lvl. 4 Halfling Rogue (The Shattered Obelisk) ♦ Vesta Trevelyan - Lvl. 10 Half-Elf Sorcerer (Eve of Ruin) ♦ Ada Kendrick - Lvl. 4 Aasimar Paladin (Curse of Strahd) ♦ Selene Albion - Lvl. 12 Human Ranger (In-Person Homebrew Campaign) ♦ Phaerdra Tor'viir - Lvl. 3 Drow Wizard (Exandria Sandbox Campaign)
"Yes, my family had heard rumors about these events. I am sorry to hear of your suffering. I am not a healer myself so cannot help you directly, but you said those solutions no longer work anyway," Fred shakes his head. "You have gathered us together to pursue a solution and I'm in. The only thing I need is transportation and supplies to get there. Aside from what we win from this Soulmonger, feeling secure about my father's health is enough reward."
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Thrash listens to the host while taking another long drink from the bottle. After Syndra finishes talking, a large toothy grin spreads across his face. "I See..." He says while placing the nearly empty bottle of wine on a nearby end table. "Well you are mostly right... There are hordes of undead and monstrous beasts that call Chult home." The lizardfolk then stands up and takes a step towards Sybdra "But there is a map... and I'm the only one that's got it." He adds while pointing a clawed finger towards the side of his wide and scaley skull. "I've lived in the jungles of Chult my whole life... and killed countless undead... but why should I work for you?" Thrash asks before turning to look at the others to see how they feel about their hosts mission...
Thalara listens intently as their masked host details the nature of this 'death curse' and how it might be stopped. Her expression remains calm, a porcelain mask of stoicism. But her gaze is transfixed on Syndra as she does her best to drink in all this information - of a Soulmonger, of Chult. Her gaze flickers to the other adventurers, the hint of a scowl as the frog-man Fred spills his platitudes. Her eyes narrow further as Thrash brags about his physical prowess and suggests he might not be cooperative. But her mouth remains shut, parting only to indulge in another mouthful of red wine.
Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
Frederik nods, due compensation is completely understandable.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Barn remains relatively oblivious to the subtleties of the others' reactions to Syndra's account of the Death Curse and Soul Monger.
"Ch-choked with rain forests?" Barn only stutters a little as he listens to the description of Chult. "I think forests are nice. But choking isn't nice. Or undead either. I'll go, though. I mean, if you want me to." His guileless hazel eyes glance at Thrash, then back. "It's the right thing to do."
His fingers absently brush the small symbol of Eldath to one side of the his armor's chest plate.
Inge(Barbarian2): Krayveneer's After the Fall | Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1): Uhtred's Windward Isles | Xarian(Fighter1): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(Druid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Nivi(Rogue4): Raiketsu's CoS
Joren(Fighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Toa(Barbarian6/Fighter4): MrWhisker's Dark Lord's Return | Sabetha(Monk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court
The sound of footsteps is heard on the stairs, with a barely perceptible 'skrtch-skrtch' of claws accompanying each step. There is a single light tap on the door before it swings open and a tabaxi woman walks in. Her neatly combed fur is swirled in patterns of orange and cream. She wears a long leather coat and bracers of some silvery metal that gleam in the light of the room; oddly enough, the fur of one forepaw also seems to sparkle slightly in the firelight. "Apologies for coming late. I would have been here sooner, but when I asked about this job, someone saw fit to tell me I should look for the house of one 'Sylva Sindrane'. It took a little while to straighten out the error. But all errors can be corrected, with time and effort. At least the ones I've run into so far." She looks down at her sparkling paw, an odd expression on her face. "I hear you're looking for help correcting a much more grave problem, though. Sounds interesting, if there's room for one more."
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
At Thrash's question, Sylvane merely cocks her head. "That is a fair enough question," she responds in her raspy voice. "In my long years adventuring I have collected many interesting magical items. As a reward for seeking the source of the curse and destroying it, I will grant each of you one such magic item as a boon. Aside from me, however, I expect you'll likely come across much hidden treasure in the jungles of Chult."
Sylvane returns to her maps. "While you may be more familiar with Chult than the others as it is your homeland, I will still gift you all this map I have created. Working from dozens of sea charts, log books, and explorers’ journals, I assembled everything known about the current state of Chult into this map. Even with all that knowledge, the interior of Chult is largely unknown."
She pauses for a moment and raises one hand, marking her fingers off one by one as she counts. "Once you are ready I can teleport us to Port Nyanzaru. I have a scroll ready for the occasion."
Extended Signature
Characters: Bryony Alderleaf - Lvl. 4 Halfling Rogue (The Shattered Obelisk) ♦ Vesta Trevelyan - Lvl. 10 Half-Elf Sorcerer (Eve of Ruin) ♦ Ada Kendrick - Lvl. 4 Aasimar Paladin (Curse of Strahd) ♦ Selene Albion - Lvl. 12 Human Ranger (In-Person Homebrew Campaign) ♦ Phaerdra Tor'viir - Lvl. 3 Drow Wizard (Exandria Sandbox Campaign)
Meanwhile in Port Nyanzaru…
Lysandra Windwalker steps into the marketplace, her eyes scanning the crowd with purpose. Her forest-green robes, adorned with feathers and intricate leaf patterns, rustle softly as she moves. She carries a staff carved from an ancient tree, its surface etched with druidic runes that seem to pulse with an inner light. The sprig of mistletoe tucked into her hair glows faintly, a symbol of her connection to the primal forces of the jungle.
Thalara looks on, bemused, as the cat-person makes a late entrance. There was something about her fur. . .
The shadar-kai catches herself, fighting the urge to reach out and feel the texture of the well-groomed tabaxi. She bites down hard on her lip and focuses back on Sylvane.
"Those are certainly agreeable terms. Perhaps after your death is abated, you can tell us more about this interesting life of yours. I would be interested in sharing your memories."
Thalara stands up, glancing around the room once more, as if trying to memorize its contents, before gesturing to Sylvane to proceed.
Another medical problem. Indefinite hiatus. Sorry, all.
Thrash considers the offer before giving a small nod. "You'll need the help of a friend of mine... Lysandra Windwalker. She's at port Nyanzaru in Chult... I assume she would be granted a magical item too right?" The lizardfolk asks as he prepares to be teleported. Before the spell is cast, the large scaly figure moves to the table and picks up another bottle of wine for the road and his bone bow.
"Let's get moving I guess..."
Fred shrugs and follows the group.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
"Tele-what? Port Nya-, ah... TelePort Nyanz..." Barn splutters to a halt, then grins ruefully before falling into line.
"Eldath guide our path," he murmurs.
Inge(Barbarian2): Krayveneer's After the Fall | Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1): Uhtred's Windward Isles | Xarian(Fighter1): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(Druid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Nivi(Rogue4): Raiketsu's CoS
Joren(Fighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Toa(Barbarian6/Fighter4): MrWhisker's Dark Lord's Return | Sabetha(Monk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court
The tabaxi chuckles at Barn's apparent confusion. "Teleport. A useful trick sometimes." She points her bracers downwards and flexes her paws. Three slender nozzles emerge from each and spray out a small cloud of light blue mist, which swirls up and envelops her. This quickly clears away, seeming to have taken the cat woman with it; but a moment later she reappears next to the table. She reaches out to take a bottle of wine for herself, her coat parting as she does to reveal a corslet of well-oiled scale mail. "And sometimes far more than that. I'd imagine our employer's scroll could take us to Kara-Tur or Zakhara, had the problem been located there. But the fire-dancers of my clan considered such tricks ... a less than elegant solution; so I didn't learn them until later in life. An -- unfortunate accident. But useful." She pauses with a strange look in her eyes; seems about to say more, and then thinks better of it. Instead she says, "Not terribly elegant not to introduce myself, either, since we'll be traveling together. I am Ryshraxea, fire twin of clan Naranthi. You can call me Shra for short."
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
Thrash gives the tabaxi a tilted look as though he isn't sure what to make of her. "My name's Thrash... Thrash slaughterscale... the last of the Slaughterscale tribe." The lizardfolk before breaking eyecontact with the tabaxi and looking at the bottle of wine in his hand instead. "I'm an hunter and tracker... I specialize in killing the undead... or... re-killing them... or.. you could say killing them harder... I guess." He growls.