He listened as the old man spoke of K’lahu and the many consults he received about the Death Curse. How not always his god answered. In my experience, Velan thought bitterly, they rarely hear those who need it the most. That or they were impotent to act. Velan knew the gods were neither all-powerful nor all-knowing, despite of what many people tend to believe. A fact that didn’t make the past any sweeter.

He was starting to believe Savras’s silent treatment came from the fact that the Lord of Divination himself could not see a way to remediate the Death Curse when the high priest told a prophecy. Meili was fast to answer, for his surprise. One does not simply agree with a pact without knowing its terms, he said with the voice of his mind while looking at the others. What if they agreed? Could his negative cost him the meetings with the princes?

“I’m a wizard and one that is quite familiar with histories about deals so do not take as an offense when I ask that, but is your god the kind of entity that imbue hidden meanings between the lines of an accord?” He asked visibly uncomfortable. More than he ever looked during the fight with Taban. More than anyone there ever saw he be. “How fair are the prices he usually demands for the blessings he gives and if one or more of us were to decline the offer… Would it prevent the others from receiving the wisdom, the blessing?”

He had nothing to lose, Velan felt as much. But more than that he knew that entities from other planes had their ways of finding what to take. His mind was running wild, trying to remember anything he knew about Savras. Anything that could help him know if the price would be fair.

Notes: Velan tries to remember anything and everything he knows about Savras (something that would translate to Savras' alignment), the kind of blessings and ordeals the god deals. I guess this is an Religion check, but in case it is Arcane or Investigation the modifier would be the same.

Religion Check: 22

Velan:

 "I take no offense," Grandfather Zitembe answers to Velan.  "Those words were chosen by Savras, not by me, and he elected to stress there would be a heavy toll.  Savras is a fair god, and an honest one.  If he tells you the cost will be high, it will be high.  You have every reason to be cautious in your decision making..." he adds, though he also gives a sly wink in Meili's direction.

"But he is not cruel, and his motives are never to trap.  Whatever he chooses to ask in return for his foreknowledge, it will be something within your means to give.  Beyond that, I cannot say until he shares it with me tonight."

"As for some of you abstaining..." he laughs again, "I had not considered that.  Ironic, but more so a sign that I am reveling too much in this moment of prophecy.  I should not let my excitement dull my mind.  Ahem.  Your question.  Taking Savras words at their face, I would say any who refuse will not be welcomed back tomorrow.  Though... if those who accept choose to continue traveling with them and share the knowledge... I would certainly not be in any position to stop this.  But you must know that it is never wise to try to cheat a god."

[If you all would like to take a short rest, Grandfather Zitembe is happy to rest here in his chambers with you for an hour while you ask him questions.  He seems to be in no rush to get back to his duties at the temple.]

Ran nods at Velan and laughs, finally aware that the wizard does appear to feel bad about telling him to grapple Taban.

"Not a bad plan," Ran says. "Just poorly executed."

He takes a breath, convinced that nothing is broken and that he'll be back to his usual self with a bit of a rest. He crouches down and listens to Zitembe and the others talk.

"It's cool in here," Ran finally says. "I'll come back and hear what your god wants to chit chat about. Maybe he's seen my sister."

Short Rest HD: 7  

Mica squats down on his heels in the corner of the room, watching the others talk with the high priest.  First getting wrapped up with two merchant princes, and now a god.  It was dangerous business.  

“The Death Curse means little to me, and I am not eager to be a pawn for any god, lestways one that will charge a heavy price” Mica grumbles, then sighs as he looks over at Danica and the others “Still, I did sign on to be part of the crew, and will follow wherever it leads and accept whatever toll it takes.  This god has already put gold in our pockets, perhaps more good fortune will follow. I will be back tomorrow with the others.”

Short Rest HD: 4.

(Forgotten HD: 7 )

He listened with attention to what Zitembe had to say, grateful the old man didn’t take offense with the questions. In a better state of mind Velan would have appreciated that as being the difference between a faithful man and zealot, but worries and memories took hold of his thoughts. Trying to circumvent a pact with a divine entity was too foolish to attempt, especially if said entity is the god of divination. Savras is known, defined even, by adhering to the truth. Or the many possible truths the future could hold. He remembered as one after the other his new acquaintances accepted the deal. A deity of law and although not a bastion of good such as the likes of Lathander and Tyr, definitely not the evil kind. That should be enough to ensure a fair trade. But what if it wasn’t? He was about to give the cleric his negative when Mica’s words brought a new doubt into his head. What if in the future the information from the high priest proved indispensable for their quest? Would he be able to live with the notion that a tragedy could be avoided if had chosen to list the prophecy now?

**** it, the wizard cursed with the voice of his mind and four times. One in each of the languages he knew. What if the god asked for his soul? That was but one of the many terrible possibilities he could contemplate. Savras was not that kind of creature. At least not that the caster had heard about it.

“Fine.” Velan whispered with a sigh, closing his eyes. He seemed to be speaking with himself more than anything else. “I accept what is to be asked of me.”

Danica was quiet as the group finished up with Taban and K'lahu, sheathing her scimitar and settling her shield on her back once more. The elf pocketed the ten gold dragons pieces with a respectful nod to both persons who made such possible. It was a little disconcerting witnessing a blind man pointing right at two of her companions separately but he was a holy man of a clairvoyant deity after all. Once they had heard out what Priest Zitembe had to say, Danica lagged behind in her answer. It wasn't that she doubted that the vision wouldn't be useful. But like the Grandfather said, the price would be high... There was no telling what would be asked. But she couldn't very well turn back. She hadn't even truly begin her quest. She had to see it through.

Murmuring in elvish under her breath as her fingers tightened on her arm in her crossed pose, "Selune forgive me if this is the wrong choice..." Before raising her voice in common to say, "I agree to the terms. I'm not about to make anyone do or risk anything they're unwilling to though." Glancing at Velan and Mica who seemed the other reticent parties before shrugging as they too agreed. "It seems we all will be returning in the morning." 

Seeing as no one was in a rush to leave, especially not the bruised Ran, Danica took the time to cock a hip in a more comfortable standing fashion and asked Ziteme, "You said that those who wish to serve Savras will have a heavy toll. But just because we're accepting this guidance and blessing doesn't mean that we're serving him....right?"

The old man considers Danica's question about service to Savras.  "Indeed, that is curious wording.  None of you are in his service, at least not yet.  It may be that pursuing your quest is serving Savras' interests, whether you intend it that way or not.  Or perhaps what he shows you will lead you take an active interest in his service.  I cannot answer that yet, though I'm sure his meaning will be clear in the morning."

Grandfather Zitembe relaxes further once all have agreed to proceed.  "Very well then.  I will need to prepare myself for the ordeal." He raps his cane several times on the floor, and an attendant opens the door.  "Please return tomorrow.  Mid morning should be adequate, as it will allow me some time to break fast and compose myself after the overnight rituals."

Ran flexes his side a little as he stands back up. He smiles. Not bad. Just a few bruises. He nods at Zitembe and heads for the way they came in.

"We all right as rain then?" Ran asks the others. "Back to the tavern to meet Volo? I've a an item or two I'd like to pick up in the market on the way back if that's where we're tramping off to."

Was it the holy place, the cool air, the excitement of the promised answers or the breathing exercises that one, who knows how to do, does almost automatically, but Meili felt better too. Another bow to the priest (here it was appropriate no matter the world outside) and she was ready to follow Danica back to the tavern. To Ran she only nodded silently - somehow any question or comment felt out of place, but the idea to check the market was met with another nod - indeed, Meili needed something there too.

Departing the Temple of Savras - assuming no one had any last minute business here - the group does indeed pass by the Grand Souk.  Similar to the Red Bazaar, all of the different vendors are highly specialized, dealing in just one particular good or class of goods.  Does anyone wish to browse at the moment?  There should be plenty of time to do and still meet up with Volo.  [We will make sure there is time for longer trip to shop for supplies before the expedition into the jungle begins, but is there anything anyone wants to look for right now?]

Meili, you locate a healer's kit [I think that's what you wanted] available for 4gp.  The native woman manning the shop is very nosy about your business.  She is happy to sell the kit but pesters you about your background.  "New to Port Nyanzaru, I'll bet.  Have you come to serve at one of the temples?  Handmaid to a visiting merchant, perhaps?"

Ran, you quickly confirm that no one is selling thieves tools.  This is perhaps not surprising, in a market economy where the ruling class are all merchants.  A set of tinker's tools would have everything you need to cobble together a set, but you are not able to find a set for sale for less than 52gp.  Alternatively, you could also get what you need if you combined a set of jeweler's tools with a locksmith's tools.  You could purchase this for only 24gp, but the merchant selling the locksmith's tools is highly suspicious of your motivations, as he does not encounter many foreign, scarred, heavy armor wearing and sword wielding locksmiths.  "What would you be needing these items for?  Are you locked inside that metal armor of yours?"  The tone is joking, but the man's eyes study Ran carefully.  How do you respond?  [Roll a persuasion check.  If he doesn't like your answer, I will use the roll to determine if he sells them to you or not.]

Ran smiles at the merchant.

"Have you ever been tramping out into the wop-wops for days and days?" Ran asks. "It gets awfully boring around the campfire at night when you're not on watch. It's good to keep the hands busy. I like to tinker with lockets and chains."

Persuasion: 8  

Meili was trying to be both fast (to not slow down the group too much) and attentive (to still find a much-needed emergency kit). In the unfamiliar market, both tasks were very trying and when she was almost ready to admit her defeat, she spotted just the right thing! The materials could look a touch different, but a bandage is a bandage, and the herbs smelled right. She was so happy, she did not even try to haggle over its price, probably offending the nosy shopkeeper, but Meili compensated her boring fairness by answering the questions. She admitted her obvious newcomer status and the reason she came. "I am going to the jungles and heard it would not be an easy journey. Would feel better having all this with me. Say... if I need more, would I find you here tomorrow?"

Mica follows the others out of the temple and begins the walk to meet with Volo “I hope Taban is at the fights we visit tonight. Are there other coliseums in the city?  It will be nice to see him knock around someone other than us.”  Mica rubs his nose ruefully.

As they travel through the Grand Souk, Mica looks around the stalls while the others shop. He has some supplies to buy, but is more likely to find the skinning and field dressing tools he  is looking for among the animal hides and bones in the Red Bazaar.  He views the Chultan custom of braiding their hair with beads and decorations with interest, especially if he sees anyone braiding in the marketplace..

The merchant looks strangely sad when Meili announces she is heading into the jungle but then returns to the sale.  "Of course.  We are here in the Grand Souk everyday, rain or storm or sunshine." [You can add a healer's kit and subtract 6gp.]

12  Ran receives a long stare from the merchant... before he accepts the coin and slides the merchadise across the table.  [You can add a thieves' tools and subtract 26gp.]

There is no one in the Grand Souk styling hair, but Mica would have noticed a few open-air kiosks along the path back to the Thundering Lizard who performed such services....

• Braiding: 2sp
• Dyeing of braid; cobalt blue, lemon yellow, lime green, sunset orange; orchid indigo, scarlet macaw red (per braid): 5sp
• Wooden beads (each):  1cp
• Clear glass beads (each):  5cp
• Polished hag stone beads (each):  1sp
• Colored glass beads; red; powder blue; yellow; coral pink; lime green (each) 2sp
• Polished agate gemstone beads (each):  4sp
• Polished serpentine palm stone beads (each):  5sp
• Polished blue calcite stone beads (each):  5sp
• Polished pyrite (fool's gold) beads (each): 5sp

Braiding and adding beads can be done in just a few minutes.  Adding dyes to the hair will take longer, likely more time than you have this afternoon.

As the others complete their shopping, Mica ducks into an open air booth styling hair in the distinctive Chultan braids.   With his own raven black hair hanging down to his shoulders, perhaps the braids will help provide a little cooling in this accursed heat.  He pays for the braids and for 4 wooden beads. (OOC subtracted 2 sp and 4cp)

In the few minutes it takes the Chultan lady to complete the braids and weave the wooden beads into them, Mica asks about the local fights  “I hear there are fights at the coliseum tonight, a fearsome fighter named Shago.  Have you heard of him?”

Having no shopping to do herself either, Danica simply enjoys the sights and ends up glancing over at what Mica was doing. Not really wanting her own hair braided, she contented herself looking over the beads before lingering on one of them and deciding to purchase a single polished blue calcite stone bead. While Mica was getting his hair braided, she would begin the task of threading in the bead to the scarf tied around her hips where the silver symbol of eyes surrounded by a ring of stars swung. A souvenir to add to her memento. She would spend her time half listening to the conversation and keeping an eye out for any Flaming Fists. 

(Perception:  5 // -5 SP)

Danica doesn't spot any sign of the Flaming Fist while she waits for Mica to get his braids in... but she does get an earful about them listening in on Mica's conversation.

A middle aged Chultan woman works on Mica's hair while a toddler - a grandchild, perhaps - tugs at her dress and plays at her feet.  She curls her lip at Mica's question about Shago.  "A brutish and impious man, that one.  If he fights, I hope he gets whipped like the insolent brat that he is."

In the chair next to Mica, a girl not more than 15 is having dye put in by a youngish Chultan man, his own hair full of beaded dreadlocks and his face covered in tattoos.  She perks up at the mention of Shago.  "Oh yes!  He is in the city today for a fight with one of the older gladiators, Taban or Jakkab or one of those others.  He will surely win!" 

The man styling her hair smiles at the girl.   "Shago is quite a specimen.  It should be a good match.  It should certainly get the crowd whipped up."

The old woman sneers again.  "The whipping will be all Shago's.  He has the audacity to parade about the city in that Flaming Fist barb.  He has forgotten his mother; his people."

The male hair stylist bows out of the conversation, perhaps experienced enough to know when to quit with his chair neighbor.  The teenage girl pushes further, however.  "Well, at least the Flaming Fist fight to reclaim the jungles.  Something the Merchant Princes care nothing for.  As long as they sit in their palaces of gold, they would be content to leave us all trapped in these walled cities forever.  The jungle belonged to all of us, once.  It can again!  People like Shago are fighting to open people's eyes.  If we do not retake the land, if we do not reclaim what was once ours, what future is there for our people?  Should I be content to grow old behind wooden walls while the dead paw at the gates outside?"

The older woman looks over with incredulity.  "And you think the Flaming Fist fight for you?  For Chult?  Anything they 'reclaim' will only be for themselves.  Shago thinks the way forward is to fly the flag of a foreigner and parade around town like an over-muscled peacock?  No.  Shago is no revolutionary.  He is just a flashy punk - seduced by the lies and coin of a new wave of would-be colonists.  My husband did not fight to break off the shackles of Amn to allow children like you to surrender our lands to Baldur's Gate."

They continue back and forth for a time, until Mica's hair is done and you are free to depart.  It is clear this Shago is a fighter with a strong reputation, a connection to the Flaming Fist, and the son of someone prominent in town.

Ran accepts the tools and slips them into his pouch, that now with the removal of all that coin has plenty of room for them. Well, it won't be the first time he's slept in the street if that's what it comes to. Then with a shrug he heads over to join the others, chuckling when he sees Mica's hair.

[Moving ahead before DM gets on an airplane in the morning.  If anyone else had shopping to do we can still handle that in flashback.]

Trekking the rest of the way back to the Thundering Lizard, you pass again through the Red Bazaar and finally under the gaping jaws of the massive Tyrannosaur skull above the tavern's entryway.  Three Tabaxi flutists perform with a mixture of acrobatics and music.  Though the sun is still high in the sky, the tavern is already full.  It is loud inside, but without the dwarves from earlier, the mood is more exuberant than rowdy.  

In no time at all you spot your man Volothamp, seemingly no worse for wear after his nap.  He has traded his eccentric performer's garb for an equally outlandish evening attire than can best be described as jungle explorer meets fashion dandy.  Crocodile leather boots lead into forest green riding pants with flared jodhpurs.  A white silk shirt with opal buttons is left open to reveal a hairy chest.  Orange lensed glasses, a polished ironwood walking stick, and a wide-brimmed crocodile leather hat complete the look.  Any concern that he may have forgotten you existed in a drunken haze are put out of mind as he greets you warmly.  "You made it.  And not a minute too soon.  We need to make haste to the coliseum if we're to meet Wakanga on time."

Despite the rush, all of you - but Ran especially, in his heavy armor - feel the effects of a day walking and fighting under the jungle sun.  Your bodies are really craving a drink, and not alcohol.  Its hydration you crave.  If any of you would like to order off of the menu (or water, which strangely does not appear, but which is available for 1cp), Volo will wait for you to be served and drink it quickly.

In any event, Volo soon leads you off to the Grand Coliseum.  It is not far as the crow flies, but the streets in the Market Ward are not wide and large crowds are streaming toward the massive, pillared structure.  As you make your way through the masses of excited soon-to-be spectators, Volo tells you a bit of history on the coliseum.  This stone arena is the site of gladiatorial games (usually nonlethal, but accidents happen), bloody animal combats, and spectacular circuses. The best gladiators become celebrities and earn fortunes.  Statues of the arena’s greatest champions line the tops of the Grand Coliseum’s walls, including one of the city’s current merchant princes.  Ekene-Afa gained fame and fortune as a gladiator before she retired from the arena to become a trader and politician.  As you draw close, tapestries hanging from the sides of building show exaggerated depictions of warriors in combat, of tigers fighting long-limbed dinosaurs, and of men playing some sort of game with a large round ball.

Guests of the coliseum line up to toss coin into a basket to gain entry.  Today's charge is 2sp.  Volo, however, tells you all not to fret.  He flashes the same large coin he showed at lunch at the Thundering Lizard, and the guards allow all of you to pass without charge.  Volo walks with purpose away from the main crowd, up short flights of stairs and down stone corridors, twice more having to show his coin to additional guards.  He talks a bit more about the Coliseum, built in the Amnish tradition with many elevators and lower levels, allowing for creatures or fighters to be raised up to the 'show floor' during the events.  Finally, he arrives at a wooden door, guarded by two of the largest men you have ever seen.  He flashes the coin a final time, and you are all permitted entry to the private suite of Wakanga O'Tamu.

When the door opens, you hear a roar as you are exposed to the crowd noise.  The suite opens out to a balcony overlooking the arena floor.  A team of tumblers and acrobats warm up the crowd before the fights begin in a few more minutes.  The arena is like a large pie with a slice removed from the westernmost side... the late afternoon sun streams through the gap providing light for the festivities.  The interior of the suite is richly decorated with lounge chairs, tall mirrors, and expensive carpets.  A table is set with appetizer trays of spiced almonds, candied grasshoppers, raw oysters with red devil sauce, salmon and turtle pate, and mint-creme tarts.  In the corner, a bartender stands ready with a cart full of bottles, mixers and glasses.  Standing in the center of the room are two figures, both dressed in the finery of royalty.

Volo approaches the first.  "Wakanga!  I'm not late!  I think that means you lost a bet."  The late-middle aged Chultan man he addresses is tall and thin, with raven black hair and a beard split into three braids, each threaded with golden beads.  More jewelry is worn on his neck, fingers and ears, and his loose-fitting robes are woven with vibrant blues and cloth-of-gold.  His face is strangely pale, but you all quickly realize it is scarred... he looks to have been badly burned once long ago and in the healing his face took on an unusual, grey pigment.  "Volo.  Welcome.  And I see you have seen fit to bring strangers to my viewing box unannounced.  How... true to form for you."  The man's voice is almost completely free of inflection, but he gives the faintest of smiles as he addresses Volo, and he waves his hand to you all as if to say, welcome.

Volo then turns to the other figure, a woman of perhaps 40, though she is physically imposing of figure.  Her wide jaw is scarred, and her nose looks to have been broken many times.  She places a hand on Volo's shoulder as a greeting, it from the looks of it she could probably have picked him up with that one hand.  "Ekene-Afa.  Wakanga did not mention you would be joining us.  Such a pleasure to see you again after all these many years.  I hear you have arranged quite a show for tonight."

At last Volo gestures to your group.  "I'm sure you don't mind, Wakanga.  I did take a few liberties in inviting this group.  I was certain you wouldn't mind.  They are intrepid adventurers, out to comb the jungle and succeed where so many have failed before them... tracking down the source of this terrible curse.  And along the way, they are sure to drop plenty of coin into the hands of your city's merchants," he adds with a wink.