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.
One day a stranger is at the Board Walk Inn, a well-kept tavern build on stilts out over the water. He is asking for the heroes of Mire's Edge, the ones who slew the dragon of the swamp and drove the kobold's away bringing peace back to the area. You meet with the man to see what he wants.
"My master has sent me to find the heroes that slew the dragon that lived in the swamp. She is in need of people with your skills. Your reputation precedes you and the local towns tell of your exploits. Will you accompany me to Easting? That is where she lives. It is a city a weeks travel south of here."
You accompany the man to Easting and are brought to an estate on the edge of town.
You have been invited to the home of Syndra Silvane, a retired adventurer and merchant. A uniformed attendant leads you up a grand staircase to the third floor, then ushers you into a wood-paneled room with a fireplace, comfortable chairs, and a heavy table bearing goblets and bottles of wine. The darkly paneled walls are hung with maps and sea charts. Racks, shelves, and cabinets hold hundreds more rolled-up maps and charts.
A person is seated in an overstuffed chair near the fire. You can’t discern a gender, because only the person’s head emerges from under a heavy blanket draped over the chair, and an embroidered hood and silver mask conceal the wearer’s face. Even the person’s dry, raspy voice provides no clue. “Help yourselves to wine, and seat yourselves, friends — I hope I may call you that.”
As the party enters Syndra’s chambers, they also see sitting there with a cup of tea held delicately in his hand and obviously engaged in some sort of deep conversation with Synndra is an extremely old Tortle. His shell and skin are covered in scars which indicates that he has travelled widely across Toril. Of particularly note is a deep gash in his shell caused by what appears to have been some sort of tooth or claw. Perched on his nose are a set of bifocal glasses and as Syndra speaks to the party, he looks over at them with interest.
Once you are settled she tells why she has summoned you to her home.
“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 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 rainforests. Enormous reptiles, savage 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.”
With a serious tone she asks, "Will you take up this quest for me?"
Kirinar looks to the rest of his friends, and says, "I will embark on this quest for you! Necromancy is an affront to the lawful order of things and can not be allowed to thrive. Besides, my weapons have grown listless and need some enemies to smite. Who's with me?"
As Sydra finishes speaking the Tortle stands up and still holding the cup of tea in one hand bows and says to the party members "Permit me to introduce myself. My name is Vah Jo Gyaan Chaahata Hai but please call me Dr Arbutaveu, a nickname that my dear friend here" he looks at Syndra directly with a fond smile as if reminiscing "imposed on me many years ago."He then pauses and you can almost see the cogs whirring in his brain as he continues "ah ... I suppose you would call me a scholar of the arcane and this death curse and particularly this necromantic artifact called the Soulmonger is of great interest to me. I am particularly interested in how it is impacting on the Weave. I traveled to Chult some time ago and would say I know it reasonably well and was planning to do so again soon. Perhaps we could travel together?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Storm King's Thunder - The Gods Respond DM - Four bards walk into a bar... Cracitus Tibicen (Tibi) - Aarokocra - Rogue [Swashbuckler] / Fighter [Battlemaster]
"I have never seen a turtle as big as you! Or one that can talk!! Are you a magical creation? Summoned from a water plane? Are there others like you?!!?" The young human had been trying not to stare at the tortle the entire meeting, but now he could not help it! "I mean, I live near a swamp and we've dealt with kobolds and lizardfolk, but you...well, sir, you are astounding!" The last word is obviously a new one for the fighter, who is genuinely amazed by Vah Jo Gyaan Chaahata Hai.
"I have never seen a turtle as big as you! Or one that can talk!! Are you a magical creation? Summoned from a water plane? Are there others like you?!!?" The young human had been trying not to stare at the tortle the entire meeting, but now he could not help it! "I mean, I live near a swamp and we've dealt with kobolds and lizardfolk, but you...well, sir, you are astounding!" The last word is obviously a new one for the fighter, who is genuinely amazed by Vah Jo Gyaan Chaahata Hai.
Vah Jo Gyaan Chaahata Hai laughs, which given his size – over 6 feet tall and probably in excess of 500 lbs – is deep but warm, at Kirinar’s interest in him and says. “Ah but it is good to see the youth of today so interested in new things, I can but hope that when my time comes, my offspring will be as excited about the wider world as you seem to be young human – I am sorry I did not catch your name. I would of course hope, Mystara’s will prevailing that that date is some time off yet.”
In response to Kirinar’s specific questions he says “no, I am not a magical creation, nor are my people from the Plane of Water, at least not as far as we are aware. In fact we think of ourselves as being more land-based.”He laughs, obviously reminiscing, and says “I tried to swim once, it turned out that the rocks in the river with me at the time were probably better swimmers. But I digress,” hear you hear a slight snicker from Syndra as if this is a common failing of Vah Jo Gyaan Chaahata Hai, “my people are from a place called the Snout of Omgar which when I was born used to be joined to Chult, however during the upheaval caused by the Spellplague, a particular interest of mine especially because of what it says, or may say, about the impact of powerful entities, Gods, Primodial beings, Powerful Devils and Demons, Liches, etc. on the Weave itself” he catches himself “and says ah but I am digressing again, but to cut a long story short, during the Spellplague the peninsular was separated from Chult and became an island.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Storm King's Thunder - The Gods Respond DM - Four bards walk into a bar... Cracitus Tibicen (Tibi) - Aarokocra - Rogue [Swashbuckler] / Fighter [Battlemaster]
Syndra nods her thanks. "Yes, I would like to see the good Dr accompany you in this quest. He has agreed to do so and I hope you are in agreement with that. I have compiled a map of what is known of Chult. Much of the island had not been mapped but I have gathered the best information I could get."
She hands the map over to you.
"I'm afraid I don’t know much more about Chult than what’s on the map, but it should serve you well to start. As for payment, I can offer you an item or weapon of magic of your choosing. Upon successful completion of the quest of course. I am ready to go any time that you are. But I am more than happy to answer any questions you have before we leave."
“Kirinar, since we’ve been back in Mire’s Edge, I’ve been training. Learning some techniques that will distract our enemies and give advantage to our friends.”
"Well, since there don't seem to be any more questions I am eager for you to get started. I have prepared a teleport spell to transport us to Port Nyanzaru."
With that said she slowly rises to her feet. She begins to speak some incantations you do not understand. The room around you goes blurry and you suddenly find yourselves standing near a busy harbor.
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.
"Welcome to Chult! This is Port Nyanzaru. I recommend that you secure rooms for yourselves at either the Thundering Lizard, if you’re looking for a raucous time, or Kaya’s House of Repose, if you want a good night’s sleep. Both inns are located near the Red Bazaar."
She points you in the direction to go.
"I will be heading to the villa of the merchant prince Wakanga O’tamu. I intend to stay there and you can find me there at any time."
Flowers, green plants, and vines grow everywhere, seeming to spring out of the building stones themselves. The profusion of greenery needs constant tending to prevent roots and shoots from damaging buildings or tile roofs.
Vah Jo Gyaan Chaahata Hai takes a deep sniff of the air (do Tortles have a sense of smell - a philosophical question for another time) and stretches in the warmth of the sub-tropical sun. "Ah but it is good to be back in Chult as it reminds me of my home. It really is a truly wonderful place, full of excitement, movement, colour and interesting history; oh and danger as well if you are not careful."He takes a good look around getting his bearings and says "Ah yes, Kaya’s House of Repose, if that is the same place, I stayed at before, although I suspect that it will now be a grandchild at least that is running the place, it is a truly delightful and restful inn. Oh and they make a good cup of tea as well."He turns to the party and says "should we make our way to Kaya's House?" He then turns back to Syndra and says "once we are settled in, perhaps we could meet you later at Wakanga O’tamu domicile and you could introduce us to His Perspicaciousness," he thinks for a minute and says "I believe I knew his grandfather or possibly his great-grandfather."
Once Keyleth has recovered her bearings after the disorientation of the teleportation spell, she slowly turns in a circle, taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the city, smiling as the squealing children race by. "This is exciting. Definitely the farthest I've been from home."
Listening attentively to their new tortle companion, she glances at the sky and says, "It looks like we still have plenty of daylight left... why don't we do a bit of sightseeing before we settle in at an inn? Maybe we'll happen upon some information about the whereabouts of this soul monger while we're at it."
Kirinar is almost childlike himself as he tries to absorb all of the new sights and smells, laughing at the children, clapping for the minstrels, and turning this way and that to view all of the brightly colored houses and plants! "This city is amazing! I love it! Yes, let's wander around some more - but first we should find the inn and then work our way out from that place, using it as a navigating point. I wonder what the food here tastes like? Ohh...that smells good! I'm gonna buy one of those meat skewers to sample as we walk!" With that he moves over to a small store with an open front and a counter with small braziers with coals in the bottom and several wooden skewers of some kind of meat roasting on top, the thick aroma drawing several passers-by. Kirinar holds up two fingers, passes over a some coins, and slowly savors the dripping kebabs.
"Yes friend, you may stop by and I will introduce you."
Syndra then turns and walks away into the city. You realize that one of her porters also traveled with you. The man carries some bags and follows her.
Looking around the harbour you see medium and large dinosaurs are used as beasts of burden to haul two-wheeled carts, to hoist heavy loads on cranes, and to tow boats along the canals.
As the party looks around they spot a statue at the center of the harbor that represents an ancient Chultan king in full regalia, resplendent in a loincloth of leopard skin and a headdress of feathers, shells, and tyrannosaurus teeth; draped in a cape of girallon fur and monkey tails; and wielding the traditional oval shield and yklwa of Chult. Residents call it Na N’buso, the Great King.
The statue isn’t nearly as ancient as the mythic king it portrays.
As Kirinar buys his food the merchant smiles at him.
"What do you think friend? Quite the statute eh? It was erected just five years ago, at a time when Port Nyanzaru was flexing its new mercantile muscle, to impress on foreigners that Chult is an independent land with a glorious history. Few who see it fail to get the message. Please enjoy your time here."
“Yes, to the Inn. It would be good to secure rooms before they are gone.” While not a ustimed to the tropical climate and sea air, Ransyl sighs (and despite his dwarven stubbornness), closes his eyes and inhales deeply. Opening his eyes and taking in the sights and sounds.
"Yeah, that's a good point. Alright, to the House of Repose, and if it's not too snooty, book a room, then see some sights and gather what information we can?"
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.
One day a stranger is at the Board Walk Inn, a well-kept tavern build on stilts out over the water. He is asking for the heroes of Mire's Edge, the ones who slew the dragon of the swamp and drove the kobold's away bringing peace back to the area. You meet with the man to see what he wants.
"My master has sent me to find the heroes that slew the dragon that lived in the swamp. She is in need of people with your skills. Your reputation precedes you and the local towns tell of your exploits. Will you accompany me to Easting? That is where she lives. It is a city a weeks travel south of here."
You accompany the man to Easting and are brought to an estate on the edge of town.
You have been invited to the home of Syndra Silvane, a retired adventurer and merchant. A uniformed attendant leads you up a grand staircase to the third floor, then ushers you into a wood-paneled room with a fireplace, comfortable chairs, and a heavy table bearing goblets and bottles of wine. The darkly paneled walls are hung with maps and sea charts. Racks, shelves, and cabinets hold hundreds more rolled-up maps and charts.
A person is seated in an overstuffed chair near the fire. You can’t discern a gender, because only the person’s head emerges from under a heavy blanket draped over the chair, and an embroidered hood and silver mask conceal the wearer’s face. Even the person’s dry, raspy voice provides no clue. “Help yourselves to wine, and seat yourselves, friends — I hope I may call you that.”
As the party enters Syndra’s chambers, they also see sitting there with a cup of tea held delicately in his hand and obviously engaged in some sort of deep conversation with Synndra is an extremely old Tortle. His shell and skin are covered in scars which indicates that he has travelled widely across Toril. Of particularly note is a deep gash in his shell caused by what appears to have been some sort of tooth or claw. Perched on his nose are a set of bifocal glasses and as Syndra speaks to the party, he looks over at them with interest.
Once you are settled she tells why she has summoned you to her home.
“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 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 rainforests. Enormous reptiles, savage 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.”
With a serious tone she asks, "Will you take up this quest for me?"
Kirinar looks to the rest of his friends, and says, "I will embark on this quest for you! Necromancy is an affront to the lawful order of things and can not be allowed to thrive. Besides, my weapons have grown listless and need some enemies to smite. Who's with me?"
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
As Sydra finishes speaking the Tortle stands up and still holding the cup of tea in one hand bows and says to the party members "Permit me to introduce myself. My name is Vah Jo Gyaan Chaahata Hai but please call me Dr Arbutaveu, a nickname that my dear friend here" he looks at Syndra directly with a fond smile as if reminiscing "imposed on me many years ago." He then pauses and you can almost see the cogs whirring in his brain as he continues "ah ... I suppose you would call me a scholar of the arcane and this death curse and particularly this necromantic artifact called the Soulmonger is of great interest to me. I am particularly interested in how it is impacting on the Weave. I traveled to Chult some time ago and would say I know it reasonably well and was planning to do so again soon. Perhaps we could travel together?"
DM - Storm King's Thunder - The Gods Respond
DM - Four bards walk into a bar...
Cracitus Tibicen (Tibi) - Aarokocra - Rogue [Swashbuckler] / Fighter [Battlemaster]
“Pleased to meet you Doctor. My name is Ransyl. While I enjoy a good fight, I also feel a tug to help the greater good.”
"I have never seen a turtle as big as you! Or one that can talk!! Are you a magical creation? Summoned from a water plane? Are there others like you?!!?" The young human had been trying not to stare at the tortle the entire meeting, but now he could not help it! "I mean, I live near a swamp and we've dealt with kobolds and lizardfolk, but you...well, sir, you are astounding!" The last word is obviously a new one for the fighter, who is genuinely amazed by Vah Jo Gyaan Chaahata Hai.
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
Vah Jo Gyaan Chaahata Hai laughs, which given his size – over 6 feet tall and probably in excess of 500 lbs – is deep but warm, at Kirinar’s interest in him and says. “Ah but it is good to see the youth of today so interested in new things, I can but hope that when my time comes, my offspring will be as excited about the wider world as you seem to be young human – I am sorry I did not catch your name. I would of course hope, Mystara’s will prevailing that that date is some time off yet.”
In response to Kirinar’s specific questions he says “no, I am not a magical creation, nor are my people from the Plane of Water, at least not as far as we are aware. In fact we think of ourselves as being more land-based.” He laughs, obviously reminiscing, and says “I tried to swim once, it turned out that the rocks in the river with me at the time were probably better swimmers. But I digress,” hear you hear a slight snicker from Syndra as if this is a common failing of Vah Jo Gyaan Chaahata Hai, “my people are from a place called the Snout of Omgar which when I was born used to be joined to Chult, however during the upheaval caused by the Spellplague, a particular interest of mine especially because of what it says, or may say, about the impact of powerful entities, Gods, Primodial beings, Powerful Devils and Demons, Liches, etc. on the Weave itself” he catches himself “and says ah but I am digressing again, but to cut a long story short, during the Spellplague the peninsular was separated from Chult and became an island.”
DM - Storm King's Thunder - The Gods Respond
DM - Four bards walk into a bar...
Cracitus Tibicen (Tibi) - Aarokocra - Rogue [Swashbuckler] / Fighter [Battlemaster]
“I feel better knowing we will have a magic user with us on this quest. It is an unfortunate necessity in our world.”
Syndra nods her thanks. "Yes, I would like to see the good Dr accompany you in this quest. He has agreed to do so and I hope you are in agreement with that. I have compiled a map of what is known of Chult. Much of the island had not been mapped but I have gathered the best information I could get."
She hands the map over to you.
"I'm afraid I don’t know much more about Chult than what’s on the map, but it should serve you well to start. As for payment, I can offer you an item or weapon of magic of your choosing. Upon successful completion of the quest of course. I am ready to go any time that you are. But I am more than happy to answer any questions you have before we leave."
"Nope - I'm ready to go !"
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
“Yes, I am ready.”
“Kirinar, since we’ve been back in Mire’s Edge, I’ve been training. Learning some techniques that will distract our enemies and give advantage to our friends.”
"Well, since there don't seem to be any more questions I am eager for you to get started. I have prepared a teleport spell to transport us to Port Nyanzaru."
With that said she slowly rises to her feet. She begins to speak some incantations you do not understand. The room around you goes blurry and you suddenly find yourselves standing near a busy harbor.
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.
"Welcome to Chult! This is Port Nyanzaru. I recommend that you secure rooms for yourselves at either the Thundering Lizard, if you’re looking for a raucous time, or Kaya’s House of Repose, if you want a good night’s sleep. Both inns are located near the Red Bazaar."
She points you in the direction to go.
"I will be heading to the villa of the merchant prince Wakanga O’tamu. I intend to stay there and you can find me there at any time."
Flowers, green plants, and vines grow everywhere, seeming to spring out of the building stones themselves. The profusion of greenery needs constant tending to prevent roots and shoots from damaging buildings or tile roofs.
Vah Jo Gyaan Chaahata Hai takes a deep sniff of the air (do Tortles have a sense of smell - a philosophical question for another time) and stretches in the warmth of the sub-tropical sun. "Ah but it is good to be back in Chult as it reminds me of my home. It really is a truly wonderful place, full of excitement, movement, colour and interesting history; oh and danger as well if you are not careful." He takes a good look around getting his bearings and says "Ah yes, Kaya’s House of Repose, if that is the same place, I stayed at before, although I suspect that it will now be a grandchild at least that is running the place, it is a truly delightful and restful inn. Oh and they make a good cup of tea as well." He turns to the party and says "should we make our way to Kaya's House?" He then turns back to Syndra and says "once we are settled in, perhaps we could meet you later at Wakanga O’tamu domicile and you could introduce us to His Perspicaciousness," he thinks for a minute and says "I believe I knew his grandfather or possibly his great-grandfather."
DM - Storm King's Thunder - The Gods Respond
DM - Four bards walk into a bar...
Cracitus Tibicen (Tibi) - Aarokocra - Rogue [Swashbuckler] / Fighter [Battlemaster]
Once Keyleth has recovered her bearings after the disorientation of the teleportation spell, she slowly turns in a circle, taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the city, smiling as the squealing children race by. "This is exciting. Definitely the farthest I've been from home."
Listening attentively to their new tortle companion, she glances at the sky and says, "It looks like we still have plenty of daylight left... why don't we do a bit of sightseeing before we settle in at an inn? Maybe we'll happen upon some information about the whereabouts of this soul monger while we're at it."
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
Kirinar is almost childlike himself as he tries to absorb all of the new sights and smells, laughing at the children, clapping for the minstrels, and turning this way and that to view all of the brightly colored houses and plants! "This city is amazing! I love it! Yes, let's wander around some more - but first we should find the inn and then work our way out from that place, using it as a navigating point. I wonder what the food here tastes like? Ohh...that smells good! I'm gonna buy one of those meat skewers to sample as we walk!" With that he moves over to a small store with an open front and a counter with small braziers with coals in the bottom and several wooden skewers of some kind of meat roasting on top, the thick aroma drawing several passers-by. Kirinar holds up two fingers, passes over a some coins, and slowly savors the dripping kebabs.
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
"Yes friend, you may stop by and I will introduce you."
Syndra then turns and walks away into the city. You realize that one of her porters also traveled with you. The man carries some bags and follows her.
Looking around the harbour you see medium and large dinosaurs are used as beasts of burden to haul two-wheeled carts, to hoist heavy loads on cranes, and to tow boats along the canals.
As the party looks around they spot a statue at the center of the harbor that represents an ancient Chultan king in full regalia, resplendent in a loincloth of leopard skin and a headdress of feathers, shells, and tyrannosaurus teeth; draped in a cape of girallon fur and monkey tails; and wielding the traditional oval shield and yklwa of Chult. Residents call it Na N’buso, the Great King.
The statue isn’t nearly as ancient as the mythic king it portrays.
As Kirinar buys his food the merchant smiles at him.
"What do you think friend? Quite the statute eh? It was erected just five years ago, at a time when Port Nyanzaru was flexing its new mercantile muscle, to impress on foreigners that Chult is an independent land with a glorious history. Few who see it fail to get the message. Please enjoy your time here."
“Yes, to the Inn. It would be good to secure rooms before they are gone.” While not a ustimed to the tropical climate and sea air, Ransyl sighs (and despite his dwarven stubbornness), closes his eyes and inhales deeply. Opening his eyes and taking in the sights and sounds.
"Yeah, that's a good point. Alright, to the House of Repose, and if it's not too snooty, book a room, then see some sights and gather what information we can?"
"Darvin" | Changeling | Hexblade 1 / Swords Bard 6 | Descent Into Avernus (AC 19; PP 14; 52/52 HP)
Anton Chergoba | Human | Battlemaster 4 | Lost Mines of Phandelver (AC 20; PP 14; 36/36 HP)
As they walk to the inn, Ransyl keeps his eyes open for enchanters shops, blacksmiths, and armorers.