Vladimir, in a moment of inspiration, launches himself at Zaldara and spears her. The two crash to the ground, the armor-clad paladin seeming to crush the lich's fragile, skeletal form.
(Legendary action). Zaldara's eyesockets sprout eerie green flames. Her jaw unhinges and a mirthless cackle escapes her lips, the sound as cruel and bitter as arctic wind. Her skull spins around fully on her neck before resettling, her ghoulish gaze locked on Vladimir.
Vladimir must succeed on a DC 18 Wisdom saving throw against this magic or become frightened for 1 minute. The frightened target can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of its turns, ending the effect on itself on a success. If a target's saving throw is successful or the effect ends for it, the target is immune to the lich's gaze for the next 24 hours.
Its all too fast as the situation turns rapidly, Ashtear hasn't much reaction as the paladin tosses the book towards Remallia and charges the lich. "Wha. No. what. Oh shit." realizing she can't run at this point she silently curses Remallia for calling the lich so early without real preperation--like say.. calling back the forces that was combating to do this with a group that could honestly compete with this creature.
Such is life.
Ashtear dashes after the book, her gauntlet hums and arcs of electricty dance around it as she tries to damage it, her eyes pleading with Remallia to "do anything".
Shocking grasp: 24 to hit. 6 lighning damage. (it can't take reactions.. yakno if it can)
Oranir's eyes dart between the paladin and the lich as they discuss honor, of all things, and as Vladimir rushes to tackle down the lich, he does so under the elf's cry of "No! You fool!" and surprised that his companion was not incinerated or withered to death by this point, Oranir looks to the sides and tries to think on his feet. His arms open wide as his eyes close and his hands form claws as if pulling curtains, he mutters arcane words and a curtain of fog starts to manifest over the grappling duo, obscuring them and a large area around completely as spectral shapes appear faintly inside the fog, "Quick! Get him out of there!"
((Oranir casts Fog Cloud centered on Vladimir and Zaldara))
Ashtear dashes after the book, her gauntlet hums and arcs of electricty dance around it as she tries to damage it, her eyes pleading with Remallia to "do anything".
The book sizzles and pops, and Zaldara herself emits a piercing scream of pain, as though she herself feels the electricity rippling through her frame. Within her exposed ribcage, her heart sputters a beat before resuming its undying rhythm.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Seeing that the attack on the spellbook seemed to have an effect on the Lich and now that the enemy is no longer in his sight, Sayax takes out his war hammer and takes a swing at the book!
Attack: 15 Damage: 9
"Hang on Vlad!! We'll get you out of there, just hang on!"
Sayax's hammer crushes the now-burned book, which inexplicably releases a torrent of black blood. "You..." Zaldara croaks at Vladimir as her own heart explodes within her exposed chest cavity. Her body withers and smokes, a foul black smoke that mingles with the fog cast by Oranir's spell.
(Combat over!)
Remallia climbs to her feet, her body pushed to its limit from injury and exertion. "Well done, you lot. I should have known you would handle yourselves well against one as powerful as Zaldara. It was the right decision. Had she endured, no doubt she would have sought vengeance against us in the future. If the death curse works as we think it does, I do wonder about the fate of her soul..."
Laderan strides forwards, outwardly appearing full of bluster and bravado, he tries to hide his relief that the others dealt with Zaldara so quickly allowing him to stay out of the fray. He was fresh to these powers, and though they came to him almost instinctively he still felt trepidation about employing them. "Good job there, glad to see you holy folks take this destruction of undeath so seriously, despite the odds." He looks towards Vlad, visible with the magical fog dissipatingvas quickly as it had appeared, "You got a little something on you..." indicating the remnants of the exploded heart and lich gore over the Paladin's attire.
"Remalia, is that now an end to the services you require of us? I am not familiar with thish 'Chult' that Zaldara mentioned, though I presume your organisation will have agency to follow up on that lead?"
As the curious crushing and exploding sound emanates from Sayax's hammer hitting the spellbook and echoes from inside the fog, Oranir spreads his arms wide once again to disperse his spell and look inside, revealing Vladimir curiously... alive. As the others cheer and talk around him, the elf's eyes stay widened and staring at the lich's corpse, his face slowly and tensely turn just a little bit to address his companions, but his eyes remain fixated at Zaldara, "We should not linger..."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ashtear just falls onto her butt and lays down breathing"Oh hell no Remallia. We agreed to dive into the lich's home. Talking.. Bartering. Threatening. Killing a lich? That was not on the original proposal. We had to kill it, or be hunted by it."
Pointing at the Paladin "and you! You tackle a LICH. The things that disintigrate people on touch in the storybooks! You had a fire! Drop it in the fire first!"
At Oranir's advice at a quick retreat "Yes. That. Unless there is a hoard of feral undead roaming, Harpers and all. Lets leave. Rest. Then someone research the tower." From the floor she points at Remallia again, "We killed a lich. That's extra. We need to discuss bonuses later! We were not well equipped for this job. One healing potion each saved us-but barely. I know about the Harpers. They usually provide better support. I disregarded it due to the Lich war. But if we work together in the future I expect proper Harper support."
Oranir turns to Ashtear and Remallia, sighing and saying "I can't guess the extent of Zaldara's resources or connections. Given the wide machinations and intricacies of the dealings of a lich, who knows what sort of ally might seek vengeance, or what type of contingency plan she may have had for her demise... By the Seldarine, the tower could even collapse on itself at any moment now." he looks over to Remallia. "Any support the Harpers might provide us should include getting us away from here as soon as possible, and covering any traces of our involvement with this... which I hear you have extensive experience in."
At the sound of making a getaway, Merrick quickly pipes in, "Erm... If we are to leave this place soon, can it be with that... umm... circle magic again?"He shoots a look of worry towards the landing boats.
Truth be told, he was feeling rather relaxed now that he was out of the tunnels and Zaldara was a clump of ashes on the ground. Except for the tense melee that just transpired and that whole icky heart exploding event, his confidence in recognizing himself as an adventurer swelled.
Of course, he was also thankful for those whose quick thinking saved the day at the end. Definitely should take notes on that bit, he thought.
Sayax wipes the sweat from his brow as he realizes just being in the presence of the lich made him perspire. He was glad the spellbook ended up taking her out as he was really worried about Vlad. As Ashtear falls to the ground and starts berating Remallia, he can't help but smile. That kid has spunk, he thinks to himself. And hell, she's right!
Sayax puts the head of his warhammer on the ground and leans against it, waiting for Remallia's answer. As for getting out of the area, he agreed, though the door they did not open itches in his mind. "I agree that staying here is not a prudent sort of action, but does anyone else wonder what was behind that skull door?" He waits to see what the others feel about it, then turns to Remallia, "What did you have in mind to get us to Chult? Obviously that is our next destination."
Vladimir pushes the corpse off of himself. The fear is gone, but the memory of it lingers. He saw himself in a vast pit of filth and piss, sinking deeper and deeper. The round top of the pit seemed to just move farther and farther away, forever out of reach. The fear of drowning in offal overwhelmed him, it was only a deep commitment to his duty that made him keep hold of the undead witch. He wonders what would have happened if she'd had a chance to act before his companions destroyed her.
Vladimir stands and, addressing his companions, says, "You have saved my life today. I thought it a good trade to give my life to destroy that hellspawn, but you cared enough to keep up the fight even when I crossed the boundary between bravery and foolhardiness. If you would have me, I would consider all of you my friends. I could storm the gates of Hell or plunge into the Abyss and, if you were at my side, I would feel no fear. I am forever in your debt and, if you need a sword by your side, I will be there."
Turning to Remallia, he says, "Lady Remallia, with all due respect, WHAT MADNESS WAS THAT?!? We should have been twice as many and we should have been supplied with weapons effective against the undead. THIS WAS THE HOUSE OF A LICH! We are lucky that the fates were on our side today because otherwise ALL OF US WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD, INCLUDING YOU, AND WE'D BE NO CLOSER TO THE CURSE! I have seen things today that I wish I had never seen, flesh torn, burned, and ripped apart. My friends fallen under the talons of enemies. A DUNGEON SO FILTHY THAT A FLOOD OF HOLY WATER WOULD ONLY BEGIN TO LESSEN THE STINK! I believe in the cause of the Harpers and I want to help end the curse, but this...THIS WAS A SHITSHOW!"
Vladimir then turns around and moves among the fallen Harpers, hoping to find someone to heal and help.
"Remalia, is that now an end to the services you require of us? I am not familiar with thish 'Chult' that Zaldara mentioned, though I presume your organisation will have agency to follow up on that lead?"
Remallia Haventree nods. "We do have contacts in the region." She glances around. "I shouldn't say more at this time, however."
"Lady Remallia, with all due respect, WHAT MADNESS WAS THAT?!? We should have been twice as many and we should have been supplied with weapons effective against the undead. THIS WAS THE HOUSE OF A LICH! We are lucky that the fates were on our side today because otherwise ALL OF US WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD, INCLUDING YOU, AND WE'D BE NO CLOSER TO THE CURSE! I have seen things today that I wish I had never seen, flesh torn, burned, and ripped apart. My friends fallen under the talons of enemies. A DUNGEON SO FILTHY THAT A FLOOD OF HOLY WATER WOULD ONLY BEGIN TO LESSEN THE STINK! I believe in the cause of the Harpers and I want to help end the curse, but this...THIS WAS A SHITSHOW!"
"We killed a lich. That's extra. We need to discuss bonuses later! We were not well equipped for this job. One healing potion each saved us-but barely. I know about the Harpers. They usually provide better support. I disregarded it due to the Lich war. But if we work together in the future I expect proper Harper support."
She raises her hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Friends! Friends! Peace! Do not fail to see that we have won the day! At great cost and at great risk, of course, but that is the nature of the evils we oppose every day. I knew you would be victorious in this because I have faith in you. And that faith is well-placed, I see. The Harpers make excellent allies, and we are very grateful to you. But now, let us be away from here. Others will come to cleanse and secure the tower--and the basement. It is time for us to rest, to recover, and to plan our next steps. There is much to consider."
Callbrax and other mages attend to the teleportation of the Harper forces out of the Cloakwood and back to Baldur's Gate. You're invited to stay, rest, and recover at the estate of Syndra Silvane, the retired adventurer and merchant whom you met, alongside Remallia, at Urgon's funeral.
The following morning, a uniformed attendant informs you that Lady Silvane would like to speak with you concerning urgent matters. You can guess what this may be about. The 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.
Both Remallia and Syndra are present, seated in overstuffed chairs near the fire. Syndra's head emerges from under a heavy blanket draped over the chair, and an embroidered hood and silver mask still conceal her face. “Help yourselves to wine, and seat yourselves, friends.”
Remallia, recovered from her battle wounds, smiles warmly. "It is excellent to see you all again. Of course, I have your reward. It is more than we agreed to, by a hefty margin." She presents you with a sack bulging with gold coins (1,200gp). "And, in light of your exceptional work, a further gift for each of you from the Harper vaults." And kneels and opens a large chest located near her seat.
(Each of you receives an Uncommon Magic Item of your choosing for which you qualify.)
Syndra wheezes. "And now, dear friends, I hope you will consider further investigations in this matter, on behalf of a private investor? You see, I am quite interested in the death curse because, well, it is killing me. I may have told you already, I can't remember. This old brain isn't what it used to be! I was an adventurer many years ago, and was brought back from the dead. The curse is draining my life force. I've no idea how much longer I'll last. Clerics are stymied by it, of course. It is why I was keen to work with the Harpers on this mission. Thanks to you, we know now that the death curse is being caused by something called the Soulmonger, and that this artifact is located somewhere in Chult. It is imperative that we locate and destroy this device."
Her masked eyes pass over the many maps hanging on the walls. “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. As a reward, I can offer you an advance stipend of 50gp to cover expenses, and, once you have completed the task, your choice of a rare magical item from my collection.” She pauses, allowing the gravity of the moment to sink in. "If you accept, 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. What do you say?”
Throughout the night, the sound of sheets of parchment being turned can be heard from Oranir's bed, the elf seemed to do anything but rest, frequently pacing out in the corridors in his night garnments deep in thought and barely regarding any that crossed his path. The shuffling of scrolls, books and ink bottles only stopped right before sunrise.
Even this early in the morning, Oranir does help himself to the wine, and while others around fill their cups to about the widest part, allowing for some elegant swirling and sniffing, the elf fills his to the brim and can't help but crack a smug smile and a nod as he deftly avoids spilling any drop. And then he proceeds to almost drop the whole cup and spill some of the wine over his golden robe when presented with the marvelous treasure, a set of enchanted items for the group, each obviously crafted to bear spellwork and last the ages, not mentioning their wondrows utilities. Oranir's attention is clearly torn as he sits down in a chair to enjoy his wine, analyze the magic items and listen to whatever is said, but he eventually settles and almost embraces a large round ceramic jug covered in carvings, gently slapping its side and causing soft sloshing sounds from inside, "This one."and the elf opens a wide smile that looks a bit creepy given the dark circles around his eyes and his somewhat creepy features,"This one will be useful."
As those gathered 'get to business' Oranir pulls his chair closer and listens intently, deep in thought, his mind seemingly racing through the options, side-effects and intricacies of everything that is mentioned. His looks are initially of concern, but the elf can't help himself but look at each of his companions in turn and nod satisfiedly, if these lunatics managed to survive the assault on a lich's lair, they would be fine companions for this journey, and this was getting closer to the reason he even came west anyway. "Aye." he states flatly, as if there is no other course of action, "Not much to consider on this besides the details of the journey, I'm sure this Wakanga O'tamu will have plenty of information to offer on his land as a... Merchant Prince?"
While she looks through ledgers and other items, listening to the job offer. "Well, I dont want to fight more undead, nor have my soul shredded. That was new, and not fun. " pulling out her own bit of parchment, she starts to run her fingers over the paper creating a list of her own. "But the Harpers need help, and they've helped my dad. Plus, I'll probably need their help sooner or later. I'll go. But we need to prepare. " Thinking to herself about how she performed previously-in particular her weakness with close range, as well as her inability to combat the intangible creatures. Finding herself a scaled jacket, long and somewhat dark in colour. Featuring button up features, as well as a nice neck guard. This seems like a steal. I'll have to colour it !
Waving her hand at the lot of them, "Fact is, the undead we managed well enough. ghost and spectral? That nearly destroyed us. I wasn't ready for that. So. Upgrades! I need to collect some supplies in town before we go. I assume Chult isn't exactly the trade center of the world that Baulder's Gate is. We best supply here, I assume it'll be more limited." Nodding at their hosts, "Not much known of Chult, but it sounds like a fair assumption a lot of undeath there? So.. We need magic to combat that. I'll have to buy supplies to design something for myself... We can't exactly carry a lake full of holywater." Her fingers run along her gauntlet's etchings and worked metal, pondering improvements.
Ashtear acquires Serpentine Scale Mail. Which she will colour Red and Yellow in her down time~
GM:
Enemy initiative: 11
Ashtear initiative: 17
Laderan initiative: 11
Merrick initiative: 7
Oranir initiative: 19
Sayax initiative: 13
Vladimir initiative: 15
Remallia initiative: 2
"So be it!" Zaldara sneers, her hands already spouting motes of arcane energy. "Prepare to become fodder for the Soulmonger!"
Initiative (bold may act): Oranir, Ashtear, Vladimir, Sayax, enemy, Laderan, Merrick, Remallia
Vladimir tosses the book to Remallia and rushes Zaldara, attempting to tackle her to the ground.
Grapple check: 22
Tamryn - lvl 4 Wood Elf Rogue - Circle of Light Campaign || Drusilla - lvl 1 Half-Elf Ranger - Sleeping Gods || Grrzark - lvl 1 Goblin Barbarian - Danger at Darkshelf Quarry || DM - LTG - Curse of Strahd
Vladimir, in a moment of inspiration, launches himself at Zaldara and spears her. The two crash to the ground, the armor-clad paladin seeming to crush the lich's fragile, skeletal form.
(Legendary action). Zaldara's eyesockets sprout eerie green flames. Her jaw unhinges and a mirthless cackle escapes her lips, the sound as cruel and bitter as arctic wind. Her skull spins around fully on her neck before resettling, her ghoulish gaze locked on Vladimir.
Vladimir must succeed on a DC 18 Wisdom saving throw against this magic or become frightened for 1 minute. The frightened target can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of its turns, ending the effect on itself on a success. If a target's saving throw is successful or the effect ends for it, the target is immune to the lich's gaze for the next 24 hours.
Vlad Wisdom save: 4 (nat 1)
Vlad holds on to her, but he’s crying now, weeping loudly about his clothes getting stained.
Tamryn - lvl 4 Wood Elf Rogue - Circle of Light Campaign || Drusilla - lvl 1 Half-Elf Ranger - Sleeping Gods || Grrzark - lvl 1 Goblin Barbarian - Danger at Darkshelf Quarry || DM - LTG - Curse of Strahd
Its all too fast as the situation turns rapidly, Ashtear hasn't much reaction as the paladin tosses the book towards Remallia and charges the lich. "Wha. No. what. Oh shit." realizing she can't run at this point she silently curses Remallia for calling the lich so early without real preperation--like say.. calling back the forces that was combating to do this with a group that could honestly compete with this creature.
Such is life.
Ashtear dashes after the book, her gauntlet hums and arcs of electricty dance around it as she tries to damage it, her eyes pleading with Remallia to "do anything".
Shocking grasp: 24 to hit. 6 lighning damage. (it can't take reactions.. yakno if it can)
Oranir's eyes dart between the paladin and the lich as they discuss honor, of all things, and as Vladimir rushes to tackle down the lich, he does so under the elf's cry of "No! You fool!" and surprised that his companion was not incinerated or withered to death by this point, Oranir looks to the sides and tries to think on his feet. His arms open wide as his eyes close and his hands form claws as if pulling curtains, he mutters arcane words and a curtain of fog starts to manifest over the grappling duo, obscuring them and a large area around completely as spectral shapes appear faintly inside the fog, "Quick! Get him out of there!"
((Oranir casts Fog Cloud centered on Vladimir and Zaldara))
Art Portfolio
Ashtear dashes after the book, her gauntlet hums and arcs of electricty dance around it as she tries to damage it, her eyes pleading with Remallia to "do anything".
The book sizzles and pops, and Zaldara herself emits a piercing scream of pain, as though she herself feels the electricity rippling through her frame. Within her exposed ribcage, her heart sputters a beat before resuming its undying rhythm.
Oranir summons a cloud of fog to shroud the lich.
Initiative (bold may act): Sayax, enemy, Laderan, Merrick, Remallia, remaining PCs
Seeing that the attack on the spellbook seemed to have an effect on the Lich and now that the enemy is no longer in his sight, Sayax takes out his war hammer and takes a swing at the book!
Attack: 15 Damage: 9
"Hang on Vlad!! We'll get you out of there, just hang on!"
Sayax's hammer crushes the now-burned book, which inexplicably releases a torrent of black blood. "You..." Zaldara croaks at Vladimir as her own heart explodes within her exposed chest cavity. Her body withers and smokes, a foul black smoke that mingles with the fog cast by Oranir's spell.
(Combat over!)
Remallia climbs to her feet, her body pushed to its limit from injury and exertion. "Well done, you lot. I should have known you would handle yourselves well against one as powerful as Zaldara. It was the right decision. Had she endured, no doubt she would have sought vengeance against us in the future. If the death curse works as we think it does, I do wonder about the fate of her soul..."
Laderan strides forwards, outwardly appearing full of bluster and bravado, he tries to hide his relief that the others dealt with Zaldara so quickly allowing him to stay out of the fray. He was fresh to these powers, and though they came to him almost instinctively he still felt trepidation about employing them. "Good job there, glad to see you holy folks take this destruction of undeath so seriously, despite the odds." He looks towards Vlad, visible with the magical fog dissipatingvas quickly as it had appeared, "You got a little something on you..." indicating the remnants of the exploded heart and lich gore over the Paladin's attire.
"Remalia, is that now an end to the services you require of us? I am not familiar with thish 'Chult' that Zaldara mentioned, though I presume your organisation will have agency to follow up on that lead?"
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
As the curious crushing and exploding sound emanates from Sayax's hammer hitting the spellbook and echoes from inside the fog, Oranir spreads his arms wide once again to disperse his spell and look inside, revealing Vladimir curiously... alive. As the others cheer and talk around him, the elf's eyes stay widened and staring at the lich's corpse, his face slowly and tensely turn just a little bit to address his companions, but his eyes remain fixated at Zaldara, "We should not linger..."
Art Portfolio
Ashtear just falls onto her butt and lays down breathing"Oh hell no Remallia. We agreed to dive into the lich's home. Talking.. Bartering. Threatening. Killing a lich? That was not on the original proposal. We had to kill it, or be hunted by it."
Pointing at the Paladin "and you! You tackle a LICH. The things that disintigrate people on touch in the storybooks! You had a fire! Drop it in the fire first!"
At Oranir's advice at a quick retreat "Yes. That. Unless there is a hoard of feral undead roaming, Harpers and all. Lets leave. Rest. Then someone research the tower." From the floor she points at Remallia again, "We killed a lich. That's extra. We need to discuss bonuses later! We were not well equipped for this job. One healing potion each saved us-but barely. I know about the Harpers. They usually provide better support. I disregarded it due to the Lich war. But if we work together in the future I expect proper Harper support."
Persuasion w/ guidance w/ inspiration. 9+3
Oranir turns to Ashtear and Remallia, sighing and saying "I can't guess the extent of Zaldara's resources or connections. Given the wide machinations and intricacies of the dealings of a lich, who knows what sort of ally might seek vengeance, or what type of contingency plan she may have had for her demise... By the Seldarine, the tower could even collapse on itself at any moment now." he looks over to Remallia. "Any support the Harpers might provide us should include getting us away from here as soon as possible, and covering any traces of our involvement with this... which I hear you have extensive experience in."
Art Portfolio
At the sound of making a getaway, Merrick quickly pipes in, "Erm... If we are to leave this place soon, can it be with that... umm... circle magic again?" He shoots a look of worry towards the landing boats.
Truth be told, he was feeling rather relaxed now that he was out of the tunnels and Zaldara was a clump of ashes on the ground. Except for the tense melee that just transpired and that whole icky heart exploding event, his confidence in recognizing himself as an adventurer swelled.
Of course, he was also thankful for those whose quick thinking saved the day at the end. Definitely should take notes on that bit, he thought.
Sayax wipes the sweat from his brow as he realizes just being in the presence of the lich made him perspire. He was glad the spellbook ended up taking her out as he was really worried about Vlad. As Ashtear falls to the ground and starts berating Remallia, he can't help but smile. That kid has spunk, he thinks to himself. And hell, she's right!
Sayax puts the head of his warhammer on the ground and leans against it, waiting for Remallia's answer. As for getting out of the area, he agreed, though the door they did not open itches in his mind. "I agree that staying here is not a prudent sort of action, but does anyone else wonder what was behind that skull door?" He waits to see what the others feel about it, then turns to Remallia, "What did you have in mind to get us to Chult? Obviously that is our next destination."
Vladimir pushes the corpse off of himself. The fear is gone, but the memory of it lingers. He saw himself in a vast pit of filth and piss, sinking deeper and deeper. The round top of the pit seemed to just move farther and farther away, forever out of reach. The fear of drowning in offal overwhelmed him, it was only a deep commitment to his duty that made him keep hold of the undead witch. He wonders what would have happened if she'd had a chance to act before his companions destroyed her.
Vladimir stands and, addressing his companions, says, "You have saved my life today. I thought it a good trade to give my life to destroy that hellspawn, but you cared enough to keep up the fight even when I crossed the boundary between bravery and foolhardiness. If you would have me, I would consider all of you my friends. I could storm the gates of Hell or plunge into the Abyss and, if you were at my side, I would feel no fear. I am forever in your debt and, if you need a sword by your side, I will be there."
Turning to Remallia, he says, "Lady Remallia, with all due respect, WHAT MADNESS WAS THAT?!? We should have been twice as many and we should have been supplied with weapons effective against the undead. THIS WAS THE HOUSE OF A LICH! We are lucky that the fates were on our side today because otherwise ALL OF US WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD, INCLUDING YOU, AND WE'D BE NO CLOSER TO THE CURSE! I have seen things today that I wish I had never seen, flesh torn, burned, and ripped apart. My friends fallen under the talons of enemies. A DUNGEON SO FILTHY THAT A FLOOD OF HOLY WATER WOULD ONLY BEGIN TO LESSEN THE STINK! I believe in the cause of the Harpers and I want to help end the curse, but this...THIS WAS A SHITSHOW!"
Vladimir then turns around and moves among the fallen Harpers, hoping to find someone to heal and help.
Tamryn - lvl 4 Wood Elf Rogue - Circle of Light Campaign || Drusilla - lvl 1 Half-Elf Ranger - Sleeping Gods || Grrzark - lvl 1 Goblin Barbarian - Danger at Darkshelf Quarry || DM - LTG - Curse of Strahd
Remallia Haventree nods. "We do have contacts in the region." She glances around. "I shouldn't say more at this time, however."
She blanches. "I--"
She raises her hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Friends! Friends! Peace! Do not fail to see that we have won the day! At great cost and at great risk, of course, but that is the nature of the evils we oppose every day. I knew you would be victorious in this because I have faith in you. And that faith is well-placed, I see. The Harpers make excellent allies, and we are very grateful to you. But now, let us be away from here. Others will come to cleanse and secure the tower--and the basement. It is time for us to rest, to recover, and to plan our next steps. There is much to consider."
Callbrax and other mages attend to the teleportation of the Harper forces out of the Cloakwood and back to Baldur's Gate. You're invited to stay, rest, and recover at the estate of Syndra Silvane, the retired adventurer and merchant whom you met, alongside Remallia, at Urgon's funeral.
The following morning, a uniformed attendant informs you that Lady Silvane would like to speak with you concerning urgent matters. You can guess what this may be about. The 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.
Both Remallia and Syndra are present, seated in overstuffed chairs near the fire. Syndra's head emerges from under a heavy blanket draped over the chair, and an embroidered hood and silver mask still conceal her face. “Help yourselves to wine, and seat yourselves, friends.”
Remallia, recovered from her battle wounds, smiles warmly. "It is excellent to see you all again. Of course, I have your reward. It is more than we agreed to, by a hefty margin." She presents you with a sack bulging with gold coins (1,200gp). "And, in light of your exceptional work, a further gift for each of you from the Harper vaults." And kneels and opens a large chest located near her seat.
(Each of you receives an Uncommon Magic Item of your choosing for which you qualify.)
Syndra wheezes. "And now, dear friends, I hope you will consider further investigations in this matter, on behalf of a private investor? You see, I am quite interested in the death curse because, well, it is killing me. I may have told you already, I can't remember. This old brain isn't what it used to be! I was an adventurer many years ago, and was brought back from the dead. The curse is draining my life force. I've no idea how much longer I'll last. Clerics are stymied by it, of course. It is why I was keen to work with the Harpers on this mission. Thanks to you, we know now that the death curse is being caused by something called the Soulmonger, and that this artifact is located somewhere in Chult. It is imperative that we locate and destroy this device."
Her masked eyes pass over the many maps hanging on the walls. “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. As a reward, I can offer you an advance stipend of 50gp to cover expenses, and, once you have completed the task, your choice of a rare magical item from my collection.” She pauses, allowing the gravity of the moment to sink in. "If you accept, 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. What do you say?”
Throughout the night, the sound of sheets of parchment being turned can be heard from Oranir's bed, the elf seemed to do anything but rest, frequently pacing out in the corridors in his night garnments deep in thought and barely regarding any that crossed his path. The shuffling of scrolls, books and ink bottles only stopped right before sunrise.
Even this early in the morning, Oranir does help himself to the wine, and while others around fill their cups to about the widest part, allowing for some elegant swirling and sniffing, the elf fills his to the brim and can't help but crack a smug smile and a nod as he deftly avoids spilling any drop. And then he proceeds to almost drop the whole cup and spill some of the wine over his golden robe when presented with the marvelous treasure, a set of enchanted items for the group, each obviously crafted to bear spellwork and last the ages, not mentioning their wondrows utilities. Oranir's attention is clearly torn as he sits down in a chair to enjoy his wine, analyze the magic items and listen to whatever is said, but he eventually settles and almost embraces a large round ceramic jug covered in carvings, gently slapping its side and causing soft sloshing sounds from inside, "This one." and the elf opens a wide smile that looks a bit creepy given the dark circles around his eyes and his somewhat creepy features, "This one will be useful."
As those gathered 'get to business' Oranir pulls his chair closer and listens intently, deep in thought, his mind seemingly racing through the options, side-effects and intricacies of everything that is mentioned. His looks are initially of concern, but the elf can't help himself but look at each of his companions in turn and nod satisfiedly, if these lunatics managed to survive the assault on a lich's lair, they would be fine companions for this journey, and this was getting closer to the reason he even came west anyway. "Aye." he states flatly, as if there is no other course of action, "Not much to consider on this besides the details of the journey, I'm sure this Wakanga O'tamu will have plenty of information to offer on his land as a... Merchant Prince?"
Art Portfolio
While she looks through ledgers and other items, listening to the job offer. "Well, I dont want to fight more undead, nor have my soul shredded. That was new, and not fun. " pulling out her own bit of parchment, she starts to run her fingers over the paper creating a list of her own. "But the Harpers need help, and they've helped my dad. Plus, I'll probably need their help sooner or later. I'll go. But we need to prepare. " Thinking to herself about how she performed previously-in particular her weakness with close range, as well as her inability to combat the intangible creatures. Finding herself a scaled jacket, long and somewhat dark in colour. Featuring button up features, as well as a nice neck guard. This seems like a steal. I'll have to colour it !
Waving her hand at the lot of them, "Fact is, the undead we managed well enough. ghost and spectral? That nearly destroyed us. I wasn't ready for that. So. Upgrades! I need to collect some supplies in town before we go. I assume Chult isn't exactly the trade center of the world that Baulder's Gate is. We best supply here, I assume it'll be more limited." Nodding at their hosts, "Not much known of Chult, but it sounds like a fair assumption a lot of undeath there? So.. We need magic to combat that. I'll have to buy supplies to design something for myself... We can't exactly carry a lake full of holywater." Her fingers run along her gauntlet's etchings and worked metal, pondering improvements.
Ashtear acquires Serpentine Scale Mail. Which she will colour Red and Yellow in her down time~