Sickle and Sir Darak search around in the now lit cave. You're pretty sure that it's totally natural and there are no secrets to be uncovered. 

The group completes a thorough search at the end of the cave but finds nothing else. Pulling themselves up to the top of the cliff, the group packs their gear and sets off on their way.  The day is interrupted by a heavy rain mid day as you follow the river canyon south.  The rain turns into a storm and you're forced to stop for several hours as rain pummels the jungle. By the time evening comes Silas is starting to look a bit ill.  Sickle takes a look and indeed he's picked up a disease of some sort. After a careful inspection, he finds a half-dozen tiny leeches clinging to his legs. Yroc finds some as well, as does Sir Darak. They clean their skin off around the fire and clean their clothes and armor well.  

(Let me know how you deal with Silas' illness.) 

The next morning comes bright and quiet. The rushing river in the distance is a white noise against the jungle backdrop. Badger spends the time to investigate the magical items during the evening and is able to identify them for people.  The arrows are lightly magical, +1.  The prism is a rare Ioun stone.  Anyone can store up to 3 levels of spells within it. Whomever grabs it, and throws it above their head to float lazily about, can release the spells as cast.  It contains a lightning bolt spell trapped within its magical matrix, save DC 17.  The cape meanwhile is a Cape of the mountebank, and allows it's wearer to teleport short distances once per day. 

(Merry Christmas)

Upon determining Silas has contracted a disease, Sickle will go over to him, lay hands on him, and cast Lesser Restoration to remove the disease from his body.  He will keep an eye out through the night to see if any of the others are in danger of contracting the disease as well.

When Badger identifies the items, he adds, “I have a short bow I can offer.  I was never trained with it, so if another wishes to use the arrows, I would part with it.”

Azaka raises an eyebrow, "You've been carrying that thing around the jungle for weeks and don't even know how to use it?"  She rolls her eyes and goes back to packing up her stuff.

Silas will thanks Sickle for healing and sit down to observe the magic items during camp. "There are powerful items for sure. I do not how would make greatest use of such items through. There is too much merit for each of us," 

As the group sits down to discuss the magical items, they begin to hear a fierce argument in the woods nearby.  Looking around, they see Kasaaptu is missing. There is another voice speaking with her, a dark, deep, and bone grinding voice. The language they speak isn't common, the words are thick, gutteral, and unsettling to hear. As the group leaps into action, Kasaaptu's voice seems to rise to a shrill pleading, the group presses forward through the trees, seeing her nearly 60 feet away through the bush, it's hard to make out, but a massive twelve foot tall muscular monstrosity with black skin that seems to leak shadows stands before her. Dark eyes, full of red and hate look up and the creature grabs Kasaaptu's arm. Sir Darak's ears rush with the presence of evil. Kasaaptu doesn't seem to resist, but you see her make a quick motion with her hands together, and then makes a throwing motion.  In that half second a massive swell of blackness seems to erupt around both her and the creature, before encompassing them both and collapsing into a single point of nothingness and then vanishing with a rush of air against the backdrop of crackling flame.  It's done in a fraction of a moment. The glint of a small piece of metal twirling through the air from Kasaaptu's last location is all that remains. The group presses forward. There is no sign of her or the creature. All that remains is her magical ring sitting in the loam where she'd thrown it in your direction.  The Ring of Evasion sits, glinting on the forest floor before it's picked up by Sickle. Stunned, but helpless to do act, the group silently moves back to the camp. 

Mandra speaks, "Therving an evil math-ter often hath unfortheen reprecuthion'th....."  Her tone is muted and respectful, but with an edge of warning. 

Stunned into quiet, the group numbly continues packing up the camp. After perhaps an hour, with the camp packed, breakfast had, and no sign of Kasaaptu returning, the group discusses what to do, and who should be awarded the items that have so suddenly become theirs. 

After a few minutes of silence from Silas, "WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS!?" Silas shouts as looked around. 

Mandra opens her mouth, "That'th probably the right que'th'tion."

Sir Darak Darkhall: The unmistakeable presence of evil suddenly flooding the Paladin's senses, he shouts in righteous fury, "In the name of Tyr! BEGONE!" as he rushes toward Kasaaptu. Arriving too late, Darak swings his blade through empty air.

The Knight falls to his knees where Kasaaptu vanished and sighs deeply. He'd become preoccupied with petty treasure hunting and allowed the loss of another companion. He says a silent prayer to Tyr for Kasaaptu before rising to his feet. He says quietly, "Give that deamon hell, my friend." Darak's thoughts suddenly turn to his own daemons as he slides Onyx into its scabbard and returns to the party.

That morning, after the loss of Kasaaptu, you divide up the treasure.  The Cape is handed to Sir Darak, who looks quite dashing with the long red cape flowing behind him. It seems to naturally shirk away dirt and looks pristine, fluttering dramatically on his shoulders. The purple prism Ioun stone is handed to Silas, who tosses it in the air.  It begins to lazily tumble around his head.  The lightning spell in it occasionally glimmers like a spark inside the stone. Kasaaptu's ring of evasion is handed to Yroc.  The large half-orc nods, slipping it onto his baby finger.  It adjusts to fit snuggly as the metal slides onto his scarred knuckle.  The arrows are handed to Sickle who shrugs and holds onto them.  Before heading out, and while people are still gathering their thoughts, Mandra approached Silas.  People noticed that the two sit down, Silas pulling out a healing kit, and begins sewing the rotting flesh on her lips and inside her mouth for a few minutes.  It's gross work, but he does it anyway.  He spends a few more minutes sewing up other parts of her as well that are particularly troublesome. 

When done Mandra, now sewn and looking a little less "floppy", and a bit more "patchwork", stands up and smiles, the thread pulling tight on her lips. "Hey.  Check THISSSS out.  SSSS. SS.  Stupid. Shallow. Sandy sallow simple socks. Ooooh, this is SSSSoooo much better." 

Azaka rolls her eyes, "Wonderful. It was painful trying to hear you talk before. Alright people, let's get out of here before more of your demons come to claim you." 

(as usual, feel free to argue / adjust anything I do, i'm just trying to move things along) 

Azaka continues to press through the jungle, often slowing down to chop through thick areas, as you walk up and down and down. sometimes moving alongside a cliff, sometimes climbing hand over hand up steep terrain. The trip continues to be arduous, but you've all been in the jungle for weeks now, and when a large spider crawls out onto Boris' hand as he climbs a cliff, he simple flicks it away and continues his climb. When a snake zips through the grass in front of you, you barely bother to take notice. When the rain begins to poor, you pull up a hood and continue walking. A flight of colorful Macaw's swoop under the canopy above you, beautiful and wild. Occasionally small animals harry you, but are quick to depart such a large group of travellers. 

At around 1pm as you're just resuming from your lunch rest, Azaka takes notice of something and everyone stops. She quickly looks around, but then her form relaxes and she looks resigned to some unpleasantness.  You all remain tense as she turns to you.  "Sorry all. We saw each other at the same time. Sloppy of me. It's a troop of flaming fist. They're headed our way. They're *****, but follow the rules and won't try to murder us at least." 

A man, his face sweating as he steps into view, wearing a shiny chest plate and greaves, and metal leg plates, but with the padding stripped away, much like Sir Darak leads the party. Behind him, another junior knight picks his way through the jungle.  Behind them, you see a troop of ten soldiers, followed by what look like two velociraptors but instead of being waste height, they're eight feet tall. The predators have no leashes but plod along behind the troop nonetheless, and eye you all like their next meal.

The man steps forward, he seems to ignore most of the group and addresses Sir Darak, "Well met Sir Knight!  I am Sir Berylon Yor the 3rd, Flame of the flaming fist, and master to Granson manor just south of the grand city of Baldur's Gate. As you well know, the Flaming fist are in control of the Chultan jungles. Please present your Charter of Exploration, and then we shall speak further, thank you!"   The second in command rolls out a scroll, presumably that proves Sir Berlyon's claims.  But then he points at Mandra, "Praise be to Tyr, is that an undead in your presence?!?  Have you somehow made it heel and follow your commands?! Do you have a necromancer among you?" 

Several guards put their hands on the hilts of their blades, or clutch their crossbows tighter.

Sir Darak Darkhall: Striding forward as he is formally addressed, a twinge of sadness suddenly strikes Darak as he realizes Gregory is no longer present to announce him. This new magical cape flowing behind him, the Knight halts and says, "Well met, Sir Berylon Yor. I am Sir Darak Darkhall. Son of Dartleth Darkhall. Champion of Tyr, Warden of the Deep and Knight of the Realm." Clenching his gauntleted fist, the Paladin pounds his armored chest in salute.

Darak then presents the documents provide to them, along with his certificate of pedigree. Acknowledging Mandra, he answers, "We've come to investigate the Death Curse and believe this undead to be a clue. She is no ordinary zombie and retains her mental faculties."

He concludes, "Would you assist a fellow brother Knight on his most noble and holy quest? I was forced to leave with haste and was unable to collect my own plate mail before departing. If you could but loan me a set, my father could be persuaded to make a large donation to the Flaming Fist as recompense."

Persuasion:  11

The knight nods in response to Sir Darak's introduction.  "It is good to be in the presence of civilized men, in this uncivilized country."  His junior man manages the papers as he reviews them.  "Ahhh, yes, excellent...mmhmm....ok...yes...great....well met indeed Sir Knight."  The papers are handed back. "Excellent, we just need to see your certified charter of exploration issued by Blaze Commander Liara Portyr of Fort Belurian and then we can discuss the matter of armor." 

(OOC: You've never acquired a charter of exploration from the Flaming Fist.) 

Sir Darak Darkhall: Perturbed by his employers oversight, Darak replies, "Forgive me, Sir. As I've said, we departed with haste and were teleported here by magic. We were not made aware such a thing was necessary, but we would gladly do whatever is required to obtain one from you. Countless lives depend upon our mission to stop the Death Curse. Likely some of those you know and love. To delay us is to risk the lives of thousands, Sir. To aid us would be a small thing, that the entire world would benefit from. What say you, Sir Knight?"

Persuasion: 9

OOC: Trying really hard to not just kill this guy and take his armor. lol

Sir Berlyon's brow furrows, and he makes a 'cluck cluck' noise with his tongue.  "This is most unfortunate. The rules are very clear about charters of exploration. Normally we would be required to confiscate your valuables.  Of course, you could then make claim for them, minus penalties, when you return to the fort to properly acquire a charter." 

He pauses, taking care to play up his thinking through of the situation.  However he also looks at the group of nine, to his twelve plus two dinosaurs. He seems to be done weighing his options and says, "Of course, you are here for a most holy quest, as you say. I could not in good conscience apply the standard rules. Tell you what, I will allow you to purchase a charter from me now. It is a reasonable fee of 50 gold. This will leave you free of future flaming fist..um....misunderstandings. Come come, let us complete this minor transaction, and then discuss more important matters." 

Sir Darak Darkhall: Relaxing at Sir Berlyon's change in demeanor, Darak replies, "I thank you, Sir. Here is the gold you require. We have much to discuss. Might you have a camp nearby where we can resupply?"

Sir Berylon motions and a small collapsable table is pulled from the back of one of the dinosaurs and setup. A small stool is likewise setup. The acolyte brings him a scroll case from which a yellow papyrus scroll is withdrawn. The paper already has a large amount of writing on it.  Sir Berlyon is handed a quill.  He begins filling in blank spots.  While he writes, a red candle is placed on the table and lit, and a signet stamp is placed nearby.  After a another few minutes he is done writing, and takes the red candle, carefully pouring the wax on the sheet.  He then stamps it with the stamp leaving a sigil.  When done, the acolyte begins packing up the candle, quill, and ink.  Sir Berylon leaves the sheet to dry, and continues to sit. Another small stool is placed for Sir Darak.  Two of the men have been busy setting up a kettle on a hanger and one of the other men concentrates a moment and a fire begins under the pot.  Water and a paper packet of dried leaves is poured in. 

"What manner of creature is that being?" he looks to Ham.  "A strange group you are."  He glances to Yroc, the half orc, and to Badger, the gnome. Then he resumes addressing Sir Darak, "So, we are a scouting party, one of many in this area, so I'm afraid we don't have a larger supply camp nearby. If you're short on supplies however we'd be happy to sell you a portion of ours. Or of course you could journey with us on our return path to Fort Belurian. We are headed north to the ruins of Mezro. From there we are heading across to the Tiryki River to Port Nyanzaru then onwards north to home. I'm afraid we're much to far for me to offer you anything more rare such as armor. As much as it would bring honor to our houses to be joined, this place...." he looks around the jungle, "..this accursed place has found a great many tests for my steel. However, if you accompany us to the Fort, we can certainly find you a set a plate, have it adjusted for your size, and this climate. The Flaming Fist would be glad to have a generous benefactor as your family.  And of course we would glad to help you on such a holy quest. Do you know where you are headed by chance?  Have you found the actual source of this death plague?" 

Sir Darak Darkhall: Glad for his fellow Knight's help, but unsure of his motives, Darak decides to be as vague as possible as he answers, "We have several promising leads and believe we're close to discovering its source. Ham here is a fine... fellow, and has decided to join our quest. I'm afraid we do not have the time to spare to accompany to the Fort, but we may visit if the chance arises. Again, I thank you, Sir - for the charter and the generosity."

Sir Berlyon nods to Sir Darak, "Very well. I totally understand."  Tea is offered to Sir Darak and they sip for a short time.  Sir Berylon makes small talk for the remainder of the time as any polite man of the gentry would. And then quick enough they are packing up to depart. As they're packing up and the group is getting ready to go, Yroc steps up to the group. "Friends. You've rescued me from the jungle, and from that nasty frog creatures. You've been interesting to travel with, but I'm afraid this is the end of the journey for me. I'm afraid I need to leave this cursed land. It's not for me. It's hot, it's poisonous and disease ridden, and it's full of things with thicker skin and bigger teeth than me."  He clasps Sir Darak on the shoulder, "Keep good care of them my friend."  He punches Sickle in the shoulder, "Let your inner-orc shine more my friend of nature."  He waves to the rest of the group, "Fare thee well. And take care of this death curse thing, for us all."    He then turns to the Fist and says, "I would like to accompany you back to Port Nyanzaru."   Sir Berylon nods.  

And quick as all that, the group is again in the jungle, alone, and now two people shorter than they were two days ago. 

Azaka stands on a slight rise waiting for everyone to be ready to go.  "Well, shall we continue on our way?" 

Silas will sigh as he looks around the group, "This is truly a tiring trial we have been set on," Silas holds his holy symbol up to his head for a quick prayer, "Let us continue on,"