Red Dead Annihilation: Campaign Thread

Mica awakens early to Hew’s cries and shouts, this time much worse than what he heard during his watch the night prior.  He nods to Meili and Danica “It might be time for a talk.  Amphretta, the woman at the hunt camp, warned us of Hew.  If he seeks his own death, it just may lead us to ours.”  He looks over at Hew as he begins to pack up the camp. Mica will be glad to be out of the village.

Mica lets out a low whistle when Ran shares Nanny’s offer. “A high price indeed and not one easily paid.”  He looks over at Meili “Yes, but where will we find the others with this magic this deep in the jungle?  Among the White Wizards, the Red?”

The hag listens to Meili's offer to return the items at the end of your quest.

"... Pass."  She continues digging away in her garden.

"Meili nodded. "Then I guess we are ready to go?" The lost city was still far away.

Ran looks at the bird for a moment.

"You okay being a bird for a while longer?" Ran asks. Then he shrugs. "At least we know how to fix you."

He hitches up his pack and looks off the plateau.

"Do we know which direction we're headed?"

Danica pauses mid movement of applying the insect repellant on her neck, lips going into a thin hard line at Meili's words regarding Hew. Taking a long steadying inhale, the elf nods in agreement. Checking to see if the tiny pterosaur was still around and if so, she would make sure it had a small portion of her own rations. 

Looking at Ran after the hag proposed a rather steep price to help, Danica slowly nodded. "I think that if I took time to meditate and pray, I might eventually be able to figure out how to remove a curse. But I cannot say how long before I'm able to get the hang of it." Waiting to see what Nanny's answer to Meili's offer was, the sailor scoffs, unsurprised. "As soon as I know I can cast it, you and your bird will be the first to know Ran. Just keep it safe til then." 

Watching as Hew got up and packed without so much as a word or a glance at either women that had been sitting by his side, Danica met Meili's gaze with a determined nod. While Hew was avoiding them, she would take a moment to say quietly to the other healer, "Tonight then." 

They were clearly in a rush to put some distance between them and Nanny as well as get closer to their elusive goal. Nodding at Meili's sentiment, Danica looks from Ran at his question to Hew. "Well? What says our stalwart guide Hew Hackinstone?" Putting some bravado in her voice in an attempt to offset the awkwardness. 

The scarlet bird was already busy trying to dig the Alchemy Jug out of Ran's pack, but relents once the party makes its decision.

Hew nods toward the path down.

When the party reaches the large gate and the steep path down the side of the plateau, Hew stops again.  He removes his pith helmet and holds it under his arm, taking a deep breath and looking south across the Swamp of Sorrows.  Then he turns, looking first at Danica and then at each of you in turn.

"I think..." he begins, "... that I should return you to Port Nyanzaru."

His face is hard as stone, but there are tears forming in the corners of his eyes.  "I have not been honest with you.  Not from the start."

"Since we first met, it has been my intention... my only intention... to lead you south to the far end of Chult, to Wyrmheart Mine.  Therein lies the red dragon, Tzindelor, that slew my kin and maimed me.  I should have died... in some ways, I think perhaps I did... but so long as I continue to draw breath it has been my sole purpose in this world to get back there and avenge my brother and his family, or die trying.  Everything I have told you, every step we have taken, has been about getting you there."

"I thought... I don't know what I thought.  I suppose I justified myself thinking you would come around to the idea... that the promise of a dragon's hoard would make my deception forgivable.  Or maybe I didn't care at all.  That even if you slew me in retribution, that as long as the wyrm was dead, it would all be set right."

He looks at you all in the eyes again.  "But you deserve better than that.  Better than me.  It's wrong.  Disgraceful.  I dishonor my kin even as I seek to avenge them.  They wouldn't want this.  I... I don't want this.  Not to deceive you.  Not anymore."

"We have already lost two.  Velan, gone and likely dead.  Inete, the poor girl, taken to gods-know-what fate, by persons or things unknown.  It's my job to steer you from harm, and instead I have led you right into it."

"The truth is, I don't know where to look for Inete.  I don't know where this 'death curse' is hiding.  But in the Port, perhaps you can find news... new leads.  And you can certainly find someone capable of lifting the curse on that bird."

"I'll return your gold when we get there."

He goes silent, waiting for your decision.

When Danica said "tonight" Meili fully agreed with the idea. Hag's lair did not feel like a good place to discuss such matters (or any matters, to be precise). But Hew decided otherwise. A lot could be said here - about warnings, about fighting together unimaginable horrors, about losses and small victories, but Meili realized, all of this was secondary to one important thing.

She looked Hew in the eye. "We can not return. And we need your help, Hew." She waited for the words to sink before continuing.

"I think I can speak for all of us when I say it is good to hear your full story now. You are an honest man. And you are also a great guide. No one can tell where the death curse is hiding. But the gods showed us the place to look and gave us enough time to reach it. But only so much time, and we spent some of it already. There is no going back. You saw the map, we already learned that it is called the lost city. With your help, we can get there. And if gods will be kind, we might survive whatever is waiting for us in this place. Nanny does not believe it but it can happen. Maybe then we will see to it that the worm paid for his crimes too? I can only promise my help with it but I do offer it. Would that make you stay with us?"

Any forced cheer on the elf's expression fades and dies at Hew's first sentence. Listening silently to the dwarf's explanation in full and not looking away from his gaze. She hadn't seen the look in his eye more than a handful of times in her life so far. A look into the tortured soul of a person who had lost everything they cared about. But the fact that he was wavering in what he originally intended was hopeful. Yet even as he proposed what he considered the best outcome, the sailor was shaking her head. 

As Meili spoke, Danica steps up beside her and puts a hand on her shoulder in a show of supportive solidarity. 
"Meili is right. So you have two options really Hew. Go back to Port Nyanzaru alone. Or continue to guide us towards where we truly need to go to stop this Death Curse."
Meeting the human woman's eyes, Danica added, "Assuming I survive, I'd be willing to lend aid in your revenge against this Tzindelor as well." 

As Hew tells his tale, Mica is drawn back to the names Hew had screamed the night before, the memories of pain and loss.  But Hew’s story changes nothing.  “I am with the Cap’n and Meili, Hew.  We have come too far to turn back now and would lose too much time.  We must push on.”

“A dragon, a red dragon?  That would be a mighty trophy indeed.  Who knows, our path may yet lead us to the mine.  You would have my help as well.”  He pauses “But first we have other business.  I would like to find Inete. I promised to help her get to the basin and whatever task she has set before her.  We still have the white wizards we were following.  And this lost city, do you think you can lead us there, Hew?”  He looks back up the trail toward Nanny’s hut “I am eager to leave this desolated village behind, but where to next?”

Ran kept one eyebrow raised as Hew spoke. But when he mentioned the dragon's hoard of treasure he smiled.

"A hoard of treasure? Like a big pile it sleeps on?" Ran says with a broad smile. "I'm all for adding dragon slaying to the list of things I need to do before leaving this damn island."

He looks over at the bird on his shoulder.

"We could become lords of Waterdeep with that kind of coin."

Hew is speechless.  He looks like he was prepared for some verbal abuse and isn't sure what to do instead.  "I - I'm not sure what to say...".

Luckily for him, the silence is interrupted as a lonely figure drags himself up the last bit of the trail up the plateau.  His robes are torn and threadbare in places, but immaculately clean.  He stands there a moment, catching his breath and taking in the small crowd he has stumbled upon.

The first thing visible is a massive leather-bound tome bobbing just above the edge of the cliff; the man in the ragged blue robes is wearing the tome on his head like a hat. His forearms and hands, visible under the capacious sleeves of his robe, are badly sunburnt and starting to blister, but the book-hat has done an admirable job of keeping the sun off his pale face. Huge cuts and tears in the robes allow the high-altitude wind to catch it and send it snapping and billowing. Perhaps most surprisingly for a hot and humid rainforest, the man wears a flowing blue scarf around his neck.

As he crests the rise, he turns to the center of the plateau and apparently sees you. He freezes for a moment and then looks down at his robes. In a well-practiced motion, the man casts a spell and a shower of illusory flower petals fly out of of his sleeves - they land directly in front of him, in defiance of the strong wind. Shaking his head, he tries again. This time he casts a spell which causes the mud crusted on his clothes to immediately dry up and flake off into a cloud of dust, leaving the clothes and time impeccably clean, but still torn and threadbare in places.

The clean clothes are in stark contrast to the man's skin and hair, which look like they haven't seen a bath in weeks. His greasy shoulder-length brown hair has been tousled by the tome sliding around on his head, and his styled goatee is splayed out like a well-used paintbrush. Tucking the tome under an armpit and straightening up his posture like a dried up sapling in a gale, he waves a hand and yells out in an unctuous voice that catches in his parched throat.

"Yoo hoo!" he walks over to the group as fast as his wobbly-weak legs can take him. The smell of bug repellant stings your noses as he nears. "Can you speak common?" His eyes fall upon the one-armed Dwarf. "Og Dverge? (or Dwarven?)" Now upon the Elven... pirate? "Elene? (Elvish?)" And upon the Genasi. "T'Vren? (Primordial?)" He peers intently at the masked woman, as if trying to discern another language to try, but says nothing. His accent in common is from somewhere in the Sword Coast, but his accents in the other languages are atrocious, as though this is his first time actually speaking them out loud.

"Nalomanterys the Great, at your service." His leg nearly gives out as he performs an elegant bow, and he tips a hat that is nowhere to be seen. "I pray thee, have you any water for a parched traveler? I have gold and other goods to trade."

"We'll we hope you'll say which direction we're walking now." Danica quips with a gentle smile at the speechless dwarf. 

Attention was then shifted as movement was spotted at the edge of the cliff, the same they had to scale themselves to reach M'bala just yesterday. Seeing a book, Danica started, expression slack with hope as she called out, "Inete? ....Velan?" Walking closer. 

But as the person finishes their climb and stands on the plateau, she frowns, clearly not recognizing them. But he was rather obviously a wizard and thus possibly a concern, no matter the color of his robes. Nose wrinkling at his bungled pronunciation of Elvish, she glances at the others before stepping forward. Taking out her own water canteen, Danica offers it to him. "Danica." She introduces herself simply.  The wood elf takes a moment to survey the dirty yet clean man.

Her own wavy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of her face and exposing her long  pointed ears, her naturally medium olive skin tanned from years under the sun. Green eyes taking in the possible foe or friend like moss absorbs dew. Her height was just as average as the rest of her appearance, resting at just six inches above five feet, perhaps made just a half inch to an inch taller with the help of her thick leather boots. The most distinguishing feature about herself was that she had was an old healed over scar on her left cheek digging down into her jaw. But on her person what likely might draw people's eyes was the ship wheel strapped to her back like a shield, a scimitar at her waist. 
Her dark brown pants are held up by worn suspenders, blue scarf tied around her waist with her belt and a symbol hanging from it, half-hazard leather armor on her shoulders, forearms and thighs with a lining inside her outwardly dark blue vest. Her collared formerly white button up shirt had the top two buttons undone and had the tell tale dark stain of sweat under her arms and bug repellant staining the neck of her collar. 

Murmuring a prayer to Selune under her breath she then raises her voice. "How does a man like you end up all the way out here? You with the Theyans? Or the Sewn Sisters perhaps?" Danica asks casually, purposefully trying to draw a reaction from him to see how he takes it. 
Insight: 18
Guidance: 4

"Masked woman" was not wearing the mask at the moment (for the bright daylight made it pointless, not that the newcomer could know this of course). She did, though, shared one quirk with the bearded wizard - she was also wearing an unseasonal (unclimatic?) clothing article, a cloak in her case. Considering the absence of visible armour it should not have been a huge problem, but still something unusual.

Other than that, the girl looked quite unremarkable - more on the petit side, very young, obviously human, (still) fair-skinned, with relatively short black hair and black eyes now open wide in surprise. The newly arrived man also should not have worried about the smell. Truly, if he did not hear the discussion the group had, he definitely had to smell them from afar. The group did not drown for a while now, and considering the daily usage of bug repellant combined with the absence of a bath, carried the cloud of smell around.

"I am Meili," introduced she herself watching Nalomanterys drinking and just shaking her head at the offer of money. She did not add anything, waiting for the answers to the more important questions Danica asked.

Nalomanterys gladly accepts the water; he looks like he's instinctually about to cast a spell over it but, hand half-raised, decides better of magicking someone else's canteen. He lets the questions hang in the air for a moment while he drinks heavily from the canteen. "Ms. Danica. Ms. Meili. Enchanté." He says, handing the canteen back half-full (or half-empty for pessimists).

"I can only imagine how many red wizards must be out here in this jungle right now, desperately seeking a way to maintain their connection with the spirits. How delightfully ironic that they will give their lives to remain in contact with the dead." He laughs theatrically. "It brings me great joy to announce to you that I am not from Thay, nor do I have the displeasure of working with them. And I am afraid I know not these 'Sewn Sisters' of whom you speak."

He ineffectively straightens up his scarf in defiance of the gusting winds and continues on, "As for your first question, I left Port Nyanzaru almost a moon's turn ago with an expedition led by clerics and paladins of Amaunator, though three nights ago we were separated during a night raid. I know not where they are - just another failed expedition in the heart of Chult, I suppose." He doesn't seem too torn up about it.

He looks over the group again, this time with a more discerning eye. "I was expecting a village of Chultans up here, but it is clear that you are not they. Are you another expedition - you have been out here for a while, by the smell of it." He wrinkles his nose. "Worse than Brutus' breath..." He murmurs, while peering into the horizon for other signs of life. "My thanks to you for the water, Ms. Danica. Pray tell, are you seekers of the death-curse? That is my first and foremost goal in this land - to break it. Any benefit to the red wizards would be an undesired but unavoidable consequence, I assure you.

Ran watched the arrival of this new wizard with an amused grin on his face.

He steps forward, allowing Nalomanterys to get a better look at the bounty hunter. Ran’s green eyes were about the only appealing part of his visage. Scars line his olive complexion. Chainmail clinks as he brings his muscular frame forward. One oddity is a brightly coloured bird perched on Ran’s shoulder.

Ran nods in greeting.

”Ran Deadgleam,” Ran says. “So who gave you the Great part of the name? And let’s not be hasty about not accepting coinage for water. “

((This is exactly what a Sewn Sister's thayan spy would say!))

"You... continued your journey towards the death curse even after losing your group?" Nalomanterys now had a list of questions to answer but as curious as the origin of the man's name was, Meili could not hold her surprise. Respectful surprise: she fully shared the dedication just did not expect to find it in a stranger.

She shook her head in a sad motion. "You will not find help here. The village is no more. It is now home to a powerful hag and unless you want to meet her," she glanced at the bird, "which can be a bad idea, you might want to search for another path." She paused but then still added. "You are right about our purpose here, though. We are one of the groups seeking to put the end to the death curse."

Nalomanterys clears his once-again-dry throat as the group asks questions and offers information. Before answering Ran's question, the wizard turns to Mieli. "Absolutely, Ms. Mieli. Like time's inexorable march, I continue ever onward, unswerving, toward my goal." He bows quickly but with a practiced flourish to the scarred bounty hunter. "A pleasure, Mr. Deadgleam. Pray tell, is that a nom de guerre? It is a very apt name for you. 'The Great' is my title, bestowed upon me in recognition for my magical abilities." He says, dodging the question entirely. "And I wonder if those might be of more use to you than gold. Behold!"

From within his deep sleeves, he produces a pinch of silvery-white powder and throws it into the air. "Fiat lux!" And the powder combusts into four glowing orbs, which begin to swirl around and above his head, like a dust devil. After a few moments of light display, he claps his hands once, collapsing the lights into a single source of light in roughly the shape and size of human. dancing lights Anyone who knows much about magic knows that every apprentice learns this 'trick,' although it can be a very useful source of light in dark jungles and deep caves. And then, the glowing, featureless figure disappears as suddenly as it was created. "Perhaps you would like to see your enemies frozen in ice? Or perhaps you would like to be able to breathe fire at them? To be able to jump off a mountain and soar above the canopies? To run and never get tired? To become unseen? To sleep soundly at night, protected by magical wards? All this I can do and more."

He twirls the frayed tip of his goatee in his fingers, pretending to think. "Hmmm... no tribe here to trade with, and I am out of water. Naturally, I would avoid hags at all costs... Hmmm... A group here on the same mission as I... What to do?" He snaps his fingers as though making a sudden decision. "Although my skills are normally very expensive, I am afraid I see no choice but to be taken advantage of in this situation. In return for water and equal treatment, I will lend my significant skills and unwavering support to your mission. How very lucky for you that you have found me in such a predicament." 

Ran's eyes narrow a bit as Nalomanterys grandstands for a bit.

"A nom what?" Ran asks at one point and then after listening to the rest adds, "you always go on like that, Nalo? You're going to leave me more knackered than this grotty jungle." 

Though privately he admits if he can do even half of what he claims, then Nalomanterys might be useful.

Ran looks over at Hew, "Back the way we came?" 

Mica looks up in surprise as they are joined at the top of the plateau.  Tall and broad-shouldered, he was covered in leather hide of all varieties and the shine of well-worn scale mail was visible through his hide tunic. His skin is a rough, pebbly texture, gray as stone with a mossy greenish tinge.  His raven black hair is braided in the Chultan style with a handful of colored, wooden beads. A unstrung longbow and quiver was slung across his back next to his pack, and two mis-matched hand axes hung on his belt.  He made his way to the side of the newcomer, craning his head to peer down the trail to see if anyone followed.

“The name is Mica, and common is fine.” He looked curiously as the man shared his tale and raised his eyebrows as the man added the Great to his name. While his displays of magic were routine, he did talk a good game and the wizard's skills could be valuable.  He thinks back to the spellbook they found in the pterafolk nest.  Maybe it could be put to good use.  “Hmph, lucky indeed." The man did look as if he would last another night in the jungle alone.  "Where was your expedition headed before you split up?  Here to the village or somewhere else?” He looks over at Hew “We’ll take any leads we can at this point.”