You can see that the dwarf is between four and five feet in height. His armor is fashioned from the spatulate bones of dinosaurs, and it’s gashed and scarred by weapons, claws, and teeth. On the ground next to his char rests a similarly weathered, wooden maul..
“That’s me!” The dwarf says cheerily, puffing a ring of smoke straight up toward the ceiling. “Musharib is a name well known in the jungle, familiar to plant and animal alike. Navigating the jungle is what I do best, for it is in my very blood. The Albino Dwarves of Chult have forged our living deep in the ground beneath Chult’s jungles. That is, until the volcanoes drove us out. I am eager to delve deep into the heart of the jungle, and for free!”
“Yes, you hear right. The other guides--” he points to the signs by the bar “--first of all, many of them are foreigners. Tourists! They are as green as the ivy growin’ outside this inn! And they try to make a business out of leading people into the jungle, only to be eaten by dinosaurs or undead! With me, there is no fee whatsoever, as long as you agree to help me with a task of my own. On the way, we may find exactly what you look for, and if not, we find it straight away after you help me with my own task. That task is my clan’s ancestral forge, Hrakhamar. It has become infested with firenewt. I mean to clear it out and reclaim it for dwarfdom, or at least to recover a relic known as Moradin’s Gauntlet.”
Oranir nods and seemingly concedes to the point at the dwarf's mention of the foreigners, but purses his lips and sighs when his own personal quest is brought up, he lets the other sounds of the establishment hang in the air for a moment before responding, "Honorable quest, no doubt. Kith and kin are most of the time worth the investment of our time and skils." he lazily taps the table before continuing, "However, as I've mentioned, we're handling a sort of urgent matter. We basically have an hourglass in our hands and we're not sure how many grains of sand we have left, only that they're draining away. I'm not certain how much might your quest throw us off in a different direction." briefly looking to the sides, he lowers his voice and leans closer to the dwarf "I'm sure you heard of the rumours... of the Curse. Our task relates directly to that. What would you know of it?"
While Oranir heads over to the dwarf, Sayax remains a moment talking with Emeska. "Yes, I do seek a meeting, we are in need of some supplies. Do we need to set up a time beforehand or just head in that direction?"
Merrick discretely listens to the conversation, and blushes at the bit about incognito guards patrolling the city. He shrugged despite no one watching him closely and proceeded back to the other two.
After asking the questions of the bookie about the races, Merrick pulls aside Laderan and Ashtear into a quiet spot under a vibrantly shaded awning. He holds his hands out and begins to explain what he learned with sweeping gestures, "Erm... so while I was doing... ummm... my thing, I heard, well... things."
Seeing confused looks, Merrick clears his throat and begins again. "It would seem that the ones who have the highest payout are the ones we should, ummm... watch out for?" He continues to explain how the chultans mentioned the pattern of dinosaur deaths and jockey disappearances. "Erm... They were also not happy about grungs and yuan-tis being back in the port, hmm?"
Having finished recounting the conversation, Merrick crosses his arms and tries to appear as confident as he can. This was despite the fact that he knew very little about gambling, grungs, or the yuan-ti. Nevertheless, he tried to show some confidence now as he tried to see if the others would understand what he explained, hopefully.
Emeska grins at Sayax. “You ain’t like to ever find the merchant princes just sitting around their villas. Their whole livelihood is their commerce, ‘n more often than not they’re dealing with the merchants at the markets or the sailors at the harbor. But you don’t need to talk direct to the princes to buy their goods. Any merchant in the market can get you what you need, ‘n they in turn pay a portion to the merchant prince who controls their wares. If the markets don’t have it, not easy to find it otherwise.”
Insight DC 10:
Emeska is suggesting that a black market exists for certain hard-to-find wares.
Musharib puffs on his hookah as Oranir talks, taking a sip of tej in between. “I know nothin’ of the curse, except it exists. Unnatural, it is, and not of this world. The darkest of magics, I would wager, and ones that disrupt the natural state of the world. I can feel it in my bones. But let me ask you. What do you know of it? You’re saying it’s something to do with Chult? Do you even know where you’re headed? Do you know how to get there? It may be that along the way we find the thing you’re lookin’ for.”
Oranir grins at Musharib's questions, "I'll tell you, Master Dwarf, we have more information on the subject than most, but still less than we wish for. That is one of the reasons that led me to believe that a visit to a temple or a meeting with some historian before we depart would do the expedition some good." he leans back against the wall again and shrugs, "But I digress. We do, in fact, know that it has something to do with Chult, or rather something that is in Chult. However, I'll concede, we have no clear direction to aim for. So yours would be as good as any, if I am to be open about this." he looks over to Sayax speaking to the tavernkeeper, takes a sip of his own mug, then looks back at the dwarf, "Anyone you know fits that description? Someone that might have some insight on the matter?"
Vladimir is anxious. There were so many people in the bazaar and now in this inn. And the noise! There is strange music to go with the strange food and architecture. He is trying to be open to new things and experiences but there should a limit. No more than 14 new things in a day. That would manageable.
He taps Oranir on the shoulder and whispers to him, “Let’s not commit to this inn or this guide just yet. Mistress Sylvane mentioned another, quieter establishment that I’d like to take a look at and the temple priests might provide some insight as to who among the guides is trustworthy.”
Laderan nods at Merrick and Ashtear, "Aye, it's the easiest way to make money. Rig the long odds and you reap the most reward in the shortest time - I really wanna find out if there are any records of who is winning though. I'll go have a word with that bookie after we know what we're doing next."Changing tack without even so much as a pause he carries on, "Frogs and snakes seem like they'd be as common as muck in a jungle like this. So why them little froggy grung folks or them even slippier Youn-Ti being in port surprises or upsets people is probably something we should as our local expert, Wakanga, about. It would be less suspicious than asking around here - makes it clear we're outsiders..." He glances at each of their threesome in turn, "If we didn't stand out enough already. Alright, let me speak to that bookie and then we can head back."
Laderan quick steps over to the bookie and the other two can see him making some odd hand gestures, it looks like he is miming something large before rubbing his fingers together, then after a few moments there is a clear reference to one of the tyrannosauruses as Laderan pulls his arms in close to his body, waves them around and sweeps his head around with his mouth open. A few moments pass in normal conversation, then Laderan seems to extend his hand, shakes the bookie's and heads back to Ashtear and Merrick with a smile on his face. "Shall we?"
@DM:
Laderan would like to enquire with the bookie about several things:
Do each of the bookies operate alone, or are there guilds or groups that back them? Who is the famous trainer of Nasty Boy? Have they trained any dinosaurs that have raced recently, and have they trained winners? Why is a young T-Rex running it's last race? Who is the jockey on Jungle Princess?
Then he will place 10 gold on each of Nasty Boy, Jungle Princess, and Mountain Thunder. Each to place 1st or second.
Merrick sheepishly grins at Laderan and tries to act as smoothly as his companion did. "Erm... very wise, very wise." His voice cracks slighy and he coughs to cover it up as he continues, "Maybe when I show you my tricks, you can, ummm... show me more of yours, hmm?" Merrick still did not know whether this was possible, it took him years to master the ear wiggle, though Laderan was certainly, well... gifted in the war department. Perhaps there is a chance, he thought.
Grumble, Grumble!
Merrick clutched his tummy and gave it a shake. Hungry again, he thought, this is not good. He looked longingly at all of the snacks and food cooking nearby, no doubt getting ready for the big race tomorrow. He wanted to go and snag another snack to tide him over, but he did not want to leave the area that Laderan had left him and Ashtear to. He looked down at his stomach again and thought, soon my friend.
After Laderan returns from meeting with the bookie, Merrick returns his request in blissful obliviousness to what just transpired. "Erm... Yes, let's shall."
"Well, one of the most revered, if not the most revered, is Grandfather Zitembe at the Temple of Savras. There is Waukeen's Hall of Gold, of course. There is also the Temple of Gond, and the Temple of Sune. And the temple of Tymora. And there are those who remember the old ways of Ubtao."
Religion DC 10:
Savras is the deity of wizards, fortune tellers, diviners, and those who unfailingly speak the truth, even if inconvenient. Waukeen, the god of commerce, is very popular with the city's merchants. Gond is god of craft. Sune is goddess of love and beauty. Tymora is goddess of luck. Ubtao is unfamiliar to you.
Ashtear, Laderan, Merrick:
The bookie smiles at Laderan, eager to answer his questions and attract his coin. "Ah, da Merchant Princes control da races tightly. Any bookie tryin' ta pinch da own coins find deir way ta Executioner's Run!" "Nasty Boy, eh? Dat is trained and rode by Tiryki, da son of Merchant Prince Ekene-Afa. He is young and still learning, but he does win now and den." "Scarback is on his last race because he gettin' too big! Tyrannosaurs only good for racin' when day can fit in da street. And before dey start ta look at us as meals!" "Jungle Princess jockeyed by Kwilgok, a tortle, but I don't know him personally." The bookie marks down Laderan's bet and has him sign a binder. "Oh, ho ho! Good good luck ya! Winnings paid and debts is owed immediately after da race. Don't forget. We sure won't!"
Meanwhile, Merrick is approached by another bookie, a Chultan woman dressed in common clothes and draped in a brick-red scarf. "Psst. I'm K'lahu, a bookie. I can tell you from far-off. And you got the look of experience and someone not afraid of a fight. I got a job if you're interested. I need to collect a debt from one who owes the bookies. You interested?"
Oranir discreetly nods at Vladimir's whisper and scratches his chin, silently deep in thought for a brief moments before responding to the dwarf, "Excellent." he straightens up and extends his hand for a handshake once again, "I have heard enough and that was an enlightening conversation, Master Musharib of Hrakhamar. I will discuss this with my associates and send word of our decision with enough time for preparation." he bows lightly and starts to distance himself, "Thank you."
As he approaches Sayax and Vladimir, "Well, that was food for thought. Definitely an option, but we have much to discuss with our companions." he purses his lips and nods to himself, looking out to the street, "As for our blessed aspirations, we have a few temples here, Waukeen, Gond, Sune, Tymora... I honestly believe I've heard some of these religions had died out at some point..." pondering for a moment, remembering the names, "And he specifically mentioned someone in the temple of Savras, a certain Grandfather Zitembe." the elf looks at the other two, "So, now... To the temple? Which one? Or..." rummaging through the pockets of his golden robes to find a crumpled parchment, "Insect repellent, rain catchers, and such?"
Sayax smiles so big that his teeth protrude a bit from his dragonscale mouth at the mention of heading to a temple. "Why yes! That is a swell idea! Temple of Savras? Well, why not? Sounds as good as any to me!" he pounds the drink he is holding, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and picks up his bag, "Shall we? We can consider more guides on the way!"
Merrick gulps upon being approached by K'lahu, though his feelings quickly sour to a weird mix of fear and elation. Again to be thought of as a brave adventurer much like those other monks he admired in the Order of the Rose was quite a compliment. But, he thought, to actually follow through on those expectations, that is another story.
He coughs to clear his throat and speaks in a uncharacteristically deep tone, "Erm... Why yes, I happen to be a brave, ummm... adventurer from far off, yes? And not afraid of a fight, hm?" That was a lie, but he went with it.
"It, erm... sounds like you have been victim to,"he sweeps one arm broadly for dramatic effect and deepens his tone, "An injustice!"
He now gestures to both Ashtear and Laderan, "In fact, my, ummm... companions are all skilled in the experience and in the fighting as you said. Plus we can rally more to your cause, friend K'lahu, hm?"
(Location #7) Savras’s temple is one of the oldest, grandest buildings in the city. The tiled roof of its great dome resembles an unblinking eye, staring skyward. Outside its grand entrance, a man in acolyte's clothes stumbles up to Vladimir in the street and whispers, “Speak to the wise guardian of Orolunga, east of Mbala. She can direct you to that which you seek.” He then collapses, unconscious.
Ashtear, Laderan, Merrick:
K'lahu grins wide. "Good. Real good. A fella named Taban owes me money for bettin' at Executioner's Run. His bet got eaten by a raptor, now he owes me 500 gold coin. You and your crew can keep ten percent. You can usually find him drinkin' down by da harbor. Big brute of a man. Carries a spear and shield. Act quick now, I want paid by end of day!"
Walking the busy streets as he relays the conversation he had with the dwarf to the other two and nods to Sayax, "Agreed. While we lack any direction right now, that dwarf's hold might have equal chances of being on the same direction we need to aim for and of being in the exact opposite one. I'm certain Lady Syndra's withering health would not enjoy in the least that we accidentally head to the wrong way." after that, Oranir switches to a brief introduction on the deities he mentioned before until they reach the temple, "The bhenhave various pantheons they dedicate themselves to, varying greatly from region to region. I'm not a specialist, but I've heard of these gods, Savras of fortune tellers and diviners, Waukeen of coin and commerce, Gond of craft and invention, Sune of love and beauty and Tymora of good luck itself. However, I've heard brief prayers and mentions of a certain Ubtao, this is one I've never heard of." until the point that the man stumbles onto Vladimir. Turning to them, having not heard the man, the elf gives it some space and raises one eyebrow at the scene, "Is he... well?"
"What, what!" The man comes to under the positive effect of Vladimir's ministrations. He jerks and sits up, looking around in a confused way. After a few moments he's able to stand, but, after your explanation, seems baffled by what has just occurred. He introduces himself as Eshek, an acolyte of Savras who lives and works at the temple. "I don't remember much of anything," Eshek explains. "Not since last night when I go to sleep. Except I know I have to find folk who look like you. Mbala, you say? You want to find Mbala? I hear of that place from speaking to porters from Camp Vengeance. They say you just follow River Soshenstar straight as it flow southwest out of Port Nyanzaru. Mbala past Camp Vengeance, southwest from there. How far I'm not too sure."
Goods of every type being shipped into or out of Port Nyanzaru must be stored in these warehouses. Canals are cut between the rows of warehouses, allowing ships to be towed by harnessed dinosaurs directly to the desired warehouse for easier loading and unloading. A large ship can easily block a canal, so good traffic management is required; that’s one of the harbormaster’s responsibilities. The businesses here cater to the salty likes of captains and sailors, mostly commercial, but with the odd, especially dirty bar. These appear to be pop-up affairs, little more than shacks that will be washed away come the next gale. Like any warehouse district, this one might be a good spot for secret meetings and other mischief.
K'lahu gave you a physical description of Taban and the name of his favored venue: The Sticky Mermaid. You find it, identified by a hand-painted scrap of shipwreck. The little bar has collected a troupe of customers that decorate the barstools like ersatz tchotchke, all sitting mildly askew. One of them matches Taban's description. He is big. Really big. His dark skin is scarred in multiple places all over his body. He wears studded leather. Propped beside him are a shield and spear.
Insight DC 12:
From the looks of him, the man is a trained fighter, maybe one who works as a gladiator at the city's Grand Coliseum.
As Sayax listens to Oranir while they walk about the different Gods of the region, "You know, Tymora might be a good one to hit up as well, we could always use some good luck!" Sayax walks down the lane in a good mood, despite the heat. With a direction to go, he is ready for the next task.
When the man runs into them and Vlad heals him, Sayax watches unsure what to believe as the man clearly spoke to them about Orolunga before passing out. "Yes yes, that's good about how to get to Mbala. But you said to speak to the wise guardian of Orolunga. Who is that? And they are just East of Mbala?" he continues to watch the peculiar man as they talk, wondering if this is at least a direction to go.. they haven't found one yet other then to head A direction into the jungle. Once the man is finished, Sayax asks, "Are you in need of any assistance?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
Oranir, Sayax, Vladimir:
You can see that the dwarf is between four and five feet in height. His armor is fashioned from the spatulate bones of dinosaurs, and it’s gashed and scarred by weapons, claws, and teeth. On the ground next to his char rests a similarly weathered, wooden maul..
“That’s me!” The dwarf says cheerily, puffing a ring of smoke straight up toward the ceiling. “Musharib is a name well known in the jungle, familiar to plant and animal alike. Navigating the jungle is what I do best, for it is in my very blood. The Albino Dwarves of Chult have forged our living deep in the ground beneath Chult’s jungles. That is, until the volcanoes drove us out. I am eager to delve deep into the heart of the jungle, and for free!”
“Yes, you hear right. The other guides--” he points to the signs by the bar “--first of all, many of them are foreigners. Tourists! They are as green as the ivy growin’ outside this inn! And they try to make a business out of leading people into the jungle, only to be eaten by dinosaurs or undead! With me, there is no fee whatsoever, as long as you agree to help me with a task of my own. On the way, we may find exactly what you look for, and if not, we find it straight away after you help me with my own task. That task is my clan’s ancestral forge, Hrakhamar. It has become infested with firenewt. I mean to clear it out and reclaim it for dwarfdom, or at least to recover a relic known as Moradin’s Gauntlet.”
Oranir nods and seemingly concedes to the point at the dwarf's mention of the foreigners, but purses his lips and sighs when his own personal quest is brought up, he lets the other sounds of the establishment hang in the air for a moment before responding, "Honorable quest, no doubt. Kith and kin are most of the time worth the investment of our time and skils." he lazily taps the table before continuing, "However, as I've mentioned, we're handling a sort of urgent matter. We basically have an hourglass in our hands and we're not sure how many grains of sand we have left, only that they're draining away. I'm not certain how much might your quest throw us off in a different direction." briefly looking to the sides, he lowers his voice and leans closer to the dwarf "I'm sure you heard of the rumours... of the Curse. Our task relates directly to that. What would you know of it?"
Art Portfolio
While Oranir heads over to the dwarf, Sayax remains a moment talking with Emeska. "Yes, I do seek a meeting, we are in need of some supplies. Do we need to set up a time beforehand or just head in that direction?"
(Jumping back)
Merrick discretely listens to the conversation, and blushes at the bit about incognito guards patrolling the city. He shrugged despite no one watching him closely and proceeded back to the other two.
After asking the questions of the bookie about the races, Merrick pulls aside Laderan and Ashtear into a quiet spot under a vibrantly shaded awning. He holds his hands out and begins to explain what he learned with sweeping gestures, "Erm... so while I was doing... ummm... my thing, I heard, well... things."
Seeing confused looks, Merrick clears his throat and begins again. "It would seem that the ones who have the highest payout are the ones we should, ummm... watch out for?" He continues to explain how the chultans mentioned the pattern of dinosaur deaths and jockey disappearances. "Erm... They were also not happy about grungs and yuan-tis being back in the port, hmm?"
Having finished recounting the conversation, Merrick crosses his arms and tries to appear as confident as he can. This was despite the fact that he knew very little about gambling, grungs, or the yuan-ti. Nevertheless, he tried to show some confidence now as he tried to see if the others would understand what he explained, hopefully.
Oranir, Sayax, Vladimir:
Emeska grins at Sayax. “You ain’t like to ever find the merchant princes just sitting around their villas. Their whole livelihood is their commerce, ‘n more often than not they’re dealing with the merchants at the markets or the sailors at the harbor. But you don’t need to talk direct to the princes to buy their goods. Any merchant in the market can get you what you need, ‘n they in turn pay a portion to the merchant prince who controls their wares. If the markets don’t have it, not easy to find it otherwise.”
Insight DC 10:
Emeska is suggesting that a black market exists for certain hard-to-find wares.
Musharib puffs on his hookah as Oranir talks, taking a sip of tej in between. “I know nothin’ of the curse, except it exists. Unnatural, it is, and not of this world. The darkest of magics, I would wager, and ones that disrupt the natural state of the world. I can feel it in my bones. But let me ask you. What do you know of it? You’re saying it’s something to do with Chult? Do you even know where you’re headed? Do you know how to get there? It may be that along the way we find the thing you’re lookin’ for.”
(All: Actions?)
Oranir grins at Musharib's questions, "I'll tell you, Master Dwarf, we have more information on the subject than most, but still less than we wish for. That is one of the reasons that led me to believe that a visit to a temple or a meeting with some historian before we depart would do the expedition some good." he leans back against the wall again and shrugs, "But I digress. We do, in fact, know that it has something to do with Chult, or rather something that is in Chult. However, I'll concede, we have no clear direction to aim for. So yours would be as good as any, if I am to be open about this." he looks over to Sayax speaking to the tavernkeeper, takes a sip of his own mug, then looks back at the dwarf, "Anyone you know fits that description? Someone that might have some insight on the matter?"
Art Portfolio
Vladimir is anxious. There were so many people in the bazaar and now in this inn. And the noise! There is strange music to go with the strange food and architecture. He is trying to be open to new things and experiences but there should a limit. No more than 14 new things in a day. That would manageable.
He taps Oranir on the shoulder and whispers to him, “Let’s not commit to this inn or this guide just yet. Mistress Sylvane mentioned another, quieter establishment that I’d like to take a look at and the temple priests might provide some insight as to who among the guides is trustworthy.”
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
Laderan nods at Merrick and Ashtear, "Aye, it's the easiest way to make money. Rig the long odds and you reap the most reward in the shortest time - I really wanna find out if there are any records of who is winning though. I'll go have a word with that bookie after we know what we're doing next." Changing tack without even so much as a pause he carries on, "Frogs and snakes seem like they'd be as common as muck in a jungle like this. So why them little froggy grung folks or them even slippier Youn-Ti being in port surprises or upsets people is probably something we should as our local expert, Wakanga, about. It would be less suspicious than asking around here - makes it clear we're outsiders..." He glances at each of their threesome in turn, "If we didn't stand out enough already. Alright, let me speak to that bookie and then we can head back."
Laderan quick steps over to the bookie and the other two can see him making some odd hand gestures, it looks like he is miming something large before rubbing his fingers together, then after a few moments there is a clear reference to one of the tyrannosauruses as Laderan pulls his arms in close to his body, waves them around and sweeps his head around with his mouth open. A few moments pass in normal conversation, then Laderan seems to extend his hand, shakes the bookie's and heads back to Ashtear and Merrick with a smile on his face. "Shall we?"
@DM:
Laderan would like to enquire with the bookie about several things:
Do each of the bookies operate alone, or are there guilds or groups that back them?
Who is the famous trainer of Nasty Boy? Have they trained any dinosaurs that have raced recently, and have they trained winners?
Why is a young T-Rex running it's last race?
Who is the jockey on Jungle Princess?
Then he will place 10 gold on each of Nasty Boy, Jungle Princess, and Mountain Thunder. Each to place 1st or second.
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
Merrick sheepishly grins at Laderan and tries to act as smoothly as his companion did. "Erm... very wise, very wise." His voice cracks slighy and he coughs to cover it up as he continues, "Maybe when I show you my tricks, you can, ummm... show me more of yours, hmm?" Merrick still did not know whether this was possible, it took him years to master the ear wiggle, though Laderan was certainly, well... gifted in the war department. Perhaps there is a chance, he thought.
Grumble, Grumble!
Merrick clutched his tummy and gave it a shake. Hungry again, he thought, this is not good. He looked longingly at all of the snacks and food cooking nearby, no doubt getting ready for the big race tomorrow. He wanted to go and snag another snack to tide him over, but he did not want to leave the area that Laderan had left him and Ashtear to. He looked down at his stomach again and thought, soon my friend.
After Laderan returns from meeting with the bookie, Merrick returns his request in blissful obliviousness to what just transpired. "Erm... Yes, let's shall."
Oranir, Sayax, Valdimir:
"Well, one of the most revered, if not the most revered, is Grandfather Zitembe at the Temple of Savras. There is Waukeen's Hall of Gold, of course. There is also the Temple of Gond, and the Temple of Sune. And the temple of Tymora. And there are those who remember the old ways of Ubtao."
Religion DC 10:
Savras is the deity of wizards, fortune tellers, diviners, and those who unfailingly speak the truth, even if inconvenient. Waukeen, the god of commerce, is very popular with the city's merchants. Gond is god of craft. Sune is goddess of love and beauty. Tymora is goddess of luck. Ubtao is unfamiliar to you.
Ashtear, Laderan, Merrick:
The bookie smiles at Laderan, eager to answer his questions and attract his coin. "Ah, da Merchant Princes control da races tightly. Any bookie tryin' ta pinch da own coins find deir way ta Executioner's Run!" "Nasty Boy, eh? Dat is trained and rode by Tiryki, da son of Merchant Prince Ekene-Afa. He is young and still learning, but he does win now and den." "Scarback is on his last race because he gettin' too big! Tyrannosaurs only good for racin' when day can fit in da street. And before dey start ta look at us as meals!" "Jungle Princess jockeyed by Kwilgok, a tortle, but I don't know him personally." The bookie marks down Laderan's bet and has him sign a binder. "Oh, ho ho! Good good luck ya! Winnings paid and debts is owed immediately after da race. Don't forget. We sure won't!"
Meanwhile, Merrick is approached by another bookie, a Chultan woman dressed in common clothes and draped in a brick-red scarf. "Psst. I'm K'lahu, a bookie. I can tell you from far-off. And you got the look of experience and someone not afraid of a fight. I got a job if you're interested. I need to collect a debt from one who owes the bookies. You interested?"
Oranir discreetly nods at Vladimir's whisper and scratches his chin, silently deep in thought for a brief moments before responding to the dwarf, "Excellent." he straightens up and extends his hand for a handshake once again, "I have heard enough and that was an enlightening conversation, Master Musharib of Hrakhamar. I will discuss this with my associates and send word of our decision with enough time for preparation." he bows lightly and starts to distance himself, "Thank you."
As he approaches Sayax and Vladimir, "Well, that was food for thought. Definitely an option, but we have much to discuss with our companions." he purses his lips and nods to himself, looking out to the street, "As for our blessed aspirations, we have a few temples here, Waukeen, Gond, Sune, Tymora... I honestly believe I've heard some of these religions had died out at some point..." pondering for a moment, remembering the names, "And he specifically mentioned someone in the temple of Savras, a certain Grandfather Zitembe." the elf looks at the other two, "So, now... To the temple? Which one? Or..." rummaging through the pockets of his golden robes to find a crumpled parchment, "Insect repellent, rain catchers, and such?"
Art Portfolio
Sayax smiles so big that his teeth protrude a bit from his dragonscale mouth at the mention of heading to a temple. "Why yes! That is a swell idea! Temple of Savras? Well, why not? Sounds as good as any to me!" he pounds the drink he is holding, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and picks up his bag, "Shall we? We can consider more guides on the way!"
Vladimir nods. "I'm not familiar with any of these gods, so I suppose one is as good as another. Lead the way!"
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
Merrick gulps upon being approached by K'lahu, though his feelings quickly sour to a weird mix of fear and elation. Again to be thought of as a brave adventurer much like those other monks he admired in the Order of the Rose was quite a compliment. But, he thought, to actually follow through on those expectations, that is another story.
He coughs to clear his throat and speaks in a uncharacteristically deep tone, "Erm... Why yes, I happen to be a brave, ummm... adventurer from far off, yes? And not afraid of a fight, hm?" That was a lie, but he went with it.
"It, erm... sounds like you have been victim to," he sweeps one arm broadly for dramatic effect and deepens his tone, "An injustice!"
He now gestures to both Ashtear and Laderan, "In fact, my, ummm... companions are all skilled in the experience and in the fighting as you said. Plus we can rally more to your cause, friend K'lahu, hm?"
"So, erm... consider us interested!"
Oranir, Sayax, Vladimir:
(Location #7) Savras’s temple is one of the oldest, grandest buildings in the city. The tiled roof of its great dome resembles an unblinking eye, staring skyward. Outside its grand entrance, a man in acolyte's clothes stumbles up to Vladimir in the street and whispers, “Speak to the wise guardian of Orolunga, east of Mbala. She can direct you to that which you seek.” He then collapses, unconscious.
Ashtear, Laderan, Merrick:
K'lahu grins wide. "Good. Real good. A fella named Taban owes me money for bettin' at Executioner's Run. His bet got eaten by a raptor, now he owes me 500 gold coin. You and your crew can keep ten percent. You can usually find him drinkin' down by da harbor. Big brute of a man. Carries a spear and shield. Act quick now, I want paid by end of day!"
Walking the busy streets as he relays the conversation he had with the dwarf to the other two and nods to Sayax, "Agreed. While we lack any direction right now, that dwarf's hold might have equal chances of being on the same direction we need to aim for and of being in the exact opposite one. I'm certain Lady Syndra's withering health would not enjoy in the least that we accidentally head to the wrong way." after that, Oranir switches to a brief introduction on the deities he mentioned before until they reach the temple, "The bhen have various pantheons they dedicate themselves to, varying greatly from region to region. I'm not a specialist, but I've heard of these gods, Savras of fortune tellers and diviners, Waukeen of coin and commerce, Gond of craft and invention, Sune of love and beauty and Tymora of good luck itself. However, I've heard brief prayers and mentions of a certain Ubtao, this is one I've never heard of." until the point that the man stumbles onto Vladimir. Turning to them, having not heard the man, the elf gives it some space and raises one eyebrow at the scene, "Is he... well?"
Art Portfolio
Vladimir quickly examines the man for injury or disease. He places his hands on his head and calls upon Bahamut to heal the man.
Action: Lay on Hands for 5 hp (to heal, cure disease, or neutralize poison, whichever I think is needed)
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
Oranir, Sayax, Vladimir:
"What, what!" The man comes to under the positive effect of Vladimir's ministrations. He jerks and sits up, looking around in a confused way. After a few moments he's able to stand, but, after your explanation, seems baffled by what has just occurred. He introduces himself as Eshek, an acolyte of Savras who lives and works at the temple. "I don't remember much of anything," Eshek explains. "Not since last night when I go to sleep. Except I know I have to find folk who look like you. Mbala, you say? You want to find Mbala? I hear of that place from speaking to porters from Camp Vengeance. They say you just follow River Soshenstar straight as it flow southwest out of Port Nyanzaru. Mbala past Camp Vengeance, southwest from there. How far I'm not too sure."
Ashtear, Laderan, Merrick:
(Location #16. Warehouse District)
Goods of every type being shipped into or out of Port Nyanzaru must be stored in these warehouses. Canals are cut between the rows of warehouses, allowing ships to be towed by harnessed dinosaurs directly to the desired warehouse for easier loading and unloading. A large ship can easily block a canal, so good traffic management is required; that’s one of the harbormaster’s responsibilities. The businesses here cater to the salty likes of captains and sailors, mostly commercial, but with the odd, especially dirty bar. These appear to be pop-up affairs, little more than shacks that will be washed away come the next gale. Like any warehouse district, this one might be a good spot for secret meetings and other mischief.
K'lahu gave you a physical description of Taban and the name of his favored venue: The Sticky Mermaid. You find it, identified by a hand-painted scrap of shipwreck. The little bar has collected a troupe of customers that decorate the barstools like ersatz tchotchke, all sitting mildly askew. One of them matches Taban's description. He is big. Really big. His dark skin is scarred in multiple places all over his body. He wears studded leather. Propped beside him are a shield and spear.
Insight DC 12:
From the looks of him, the man is a trained fighter, maybe one who works as a gladiator at the city's Grand Coliseum.
As Sayax listens to Oranir while they walk about the different Gods of the region, "You know, Tymora might be a good one to hit up as well, we could always use some good luck!" Sayax walks down the lane in a good mood, despite the heat. With a direction to go, he is ready for the next task.
When the man runs into them and Vlad heals him, Sayax watches unsure what to believe as the man clearly spoke to them about Orolunga before passing out. "Yes yes, that's good about how to get to Mbala. But you said to speak to the wise guardian of Orolunga. Who is that? And they are just East of Mbala?" he continues to watch the peculiar man as they talk, wondering if this is at least a direction to go.. they haven't found one yet other then to head A direction into the jungle. Once the man is finished, Sayax asks, "Are you in need of any assistance?"