This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
[If she's nice and takes Scoria's to the smith as well, sure - I use a method of 1/10 to 1/2 the cost of the original to repair. Shortsword costs 10gp. Glaive costs 20 gp. So with that:]
Cimeri hits the smith before going to Syndra's and is quoted a night's work and cost for each:
Shortsword: 1 gold pieces.
Glaive: 5 gold pieces.
If either roll is 0 or negative, cost is 5 silver.
Edit: Scoria's came out silly high so I rerolled it.
[Thanks, Scoria pls do the same, and to all members: I am hands-off, I don't want to micro-manage your character sheet. Just be honest and take care of your stuff in a timely fashion and we'll be all good.]
One of the large doors leading into this room swings quietly open and a tall thin half-elf steps into the room, tentatively glancing around. He has a kind face, pale, and curious eyes under a tangled mess of dark black hair. He wears brown leather armor over rather plain pants with a colorful red shirt under his light leather chest piece. A green cloak hangs from his back, pressed under a large backpack finished with a shield hung on it. He looks at each person in turn, "Um...are you the folks going to Chult. We were told the trip to Chult was in here." He speaks in a strange accent you're not familiar with. Strange tattoos decorate the back of his hands and run up his arms. He strikes you immediately as...odd.
Not seeing any immediate resistance, he opens the door more fully and allows his companion in. Behind him steps a male elf wearing similarly colored clothes also toting a large backpack. (I'll let him describe himself more fully.)
"My name is Fulcra. I believe you were in need of the services of a druid?" He steps aside, giving a half bow and presenting Vilvandor to you. "I present to you, an elf of the wild woods and all powerful druid, Vilvandor!" He makes the intro with a small grin on his face, clearly enjoying the chance to embarrass his friend. He glances around the room at the serious faces, his mouth twitching as he clearly tries to judge the crowd.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
One member of the crowd is quite easy to judge - a monk is obvious no matter what the race/size/age and in case of a purple tiefling, meditating in the corner, the pose speaks for itself. Black mane, black eyes, dark purple skin with white tattoos that could rival Fulcra's. She looks young - too young for the serious expedition in plans - but determined. And a couple minutes of observation will tell that the pupil that lost her Master is trying very hard to "outmonk" herself and be worthy of his memory. Nature and character breaks through the imposed discipline from time to time, but she is doing her best to keep it at bay.
"Welcome. My name is Cimeri," she introduced only herself not offending others with forced presentation, "we are going to Chult, yes, and hoped to find more people willing to take the journey since there are only three of us. But did not specifically call for druid?" "Though we would welcome anyone?" she turned to others looking for support.
Taman moves to Cimeri's side and lays a hand on her shoulder, giving her a squeeze as he glances to her fondly first, then to the newcomers.
"Well met." Taman says with a nod to them in greeting. "I am Taman Landon, a cleric in service to Azuth, and a fledgling wizard..." He glances to their host. "I am guessing our host has requested your services due to the danger of where we are headed." He looks back to the newcomers. "Personally, I think all the help we can get the better..." Taman is a human, with storm-gray eyes and black hair. he wears a set of scale mail, with a shield laying on the floor near his chair, having the symbol of Azuth on it's front. He has a confident manner, and meets each of your eyes directly, his own showing a logical and appraising intelect.
"Finding the Soulmonger sounds like a big challenge" says a huge woman - 7ft tall, nearly as broad across the shoulders and with muscles like corded iron. She's probably the strangest-looking person in this or any other room, with stony grey skin that's shot through with flashes of blue-green iridescence as she moves and hair like broken shards of flint. She wears simple furs and carries an enormous glaive as well as a hefty maul hung at her waist. "So we probably need all the help we can get. A hunting party of three doesn't take down big targets as easily as one of five. I'm Scoria - welcome to the team."
Vilvandor enters the room behind Fulcra. He is slight, neither short nor tall, but whip thin under tight fitting leathers and a mottled green cloak. A green enameled stag's-head badge of the Emerald Enclave prominently displayed. While most have their water skins tucked away in packs or hidden below cloaks, he wears his prominently on his belt, in just as easy reach as his dagger. His long brown hair is pulled back from his angular face. His eyes dart from person to person, perceptive and a little bit wild.
"I am Vilvandor Mathor. You may call me Vil." The elf says, unceremoniously. "Syndra has told me of the perils of the jungles of Chult. It sounds more dangerous than the Misty Forest or the High Moor, but I will do what I can to lead us all through them safely."
Taman gives the druid a nod and then turns to their host.
"You required us to come here with all speed, has something changed?" Taman asks as he tries to meet her eyes in the mask she wears. "Our experience with the Undead Lady were rather unpleasant, and things could have gone very wrong there, but we are here now, and have gotten the information to tell us where to go next. Do you have anything you can add to the fact the Soulmonger is in Chult? Is there any contact you, or the Harpers, have in Chult who can aid us in our search?" Taman paces a bit as he asks his questions, his hands behind his back, his voice calm, yet probing.
Fulcra pokes 'Vil' with his elbow, bouncing his dark eyebrows up and down in a knowing fashion, "Chult. Pfffff. Vil has this...noooo problem. Jungles are just forests with more snakes right? And...spiders. And...other big targets was it? Thank you Scoria for putting that dark shadow in our future. So, a Soul Monger? Is that like, a fish monger, but...someone who sells souls instead? What's a soul go for these days? Are old souls worth more than young souls? Are they like wine and cheese that get better with age, or...more like boots, you want a fresh set to walk in? Ooooh, is that wine?" Fulcra walks across the room picking a flute up off the tray. He settles himself down on the couch, a kindly happy smile on his lips as he sips his drink. It seems clear he's not expecting answers to any of his questions.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
Taman glances to the elf as the elf takes a seat. "A soulmonger is similar to a lich's philactory... Except this one is global in scope it seems, and is the cause of the Death Curse that keeps clerics from being able to bring recently dead beings back to life." He then glances back to their host, awaiting answers to his previous questions.
"Your eagerness is appreciated," Syndra grates from behind the silver mask as her servant wheels her chair back into the room. "I also see no reason to delay." She motions to a liveried servant who has accompanied her. "Please follow Ankram to the cellar; I'm afraid stairs are no longer possible for me," she sighs, gesturing about her as multiple servants lurch forward to quickly and quietly deconstruct her wheelchair and begin reassembling it into a palanquin fit for the tight angles of a stairway.
Ankram leads you from the room, past rows and rows of scrolls and maps, globes, crystals, hanging robes on display, and masterful works of art both of brush and sculpture. Two flights of massive, wide marble stairs later and he produces a brass ring of blocky keys. He sets three different keys into three clockwork-style locks and spins a crank at the side of a thick wooden door carved with ornate sigils.
With a click, the door glides open as if weightless. Beyond is a stone hallway with a number of similar doors set into it; the 'cellar' is warm and dry, through what means is not clear, but it's comfortable. Through a final door, you find yourselves in a small stone hexagonal chamber; two acolytes in robes nod to you as they finish inscribing a chalk circle on the polished granite floor before exiting.
With less grace than she'd probably appreciate, Syndra arrives amongst bustling servants; she is lifted from her chair and set in front of a long walking staff set with a blue gemstone in the claws of a bird of prey at the top. She clutches the staff and shuffles forward to the edge of the circle.
"You have all you need mistress?" asks Ankram. Syndra simply stares at the man, who bows in embarrassment and departs closing the door.
"I lose patience with the man daily; he specializes in divination for a reason, specifically as I've asked. Wouldn't you think he knows what I need and don't need?" she spits. She mumbles something about good help being hard to find before continuing. "To Chult, yes?" She focuses on her staff for a moment and the sigils and circle begin to glow. "Let us depart," she rasps, motioning you into the circle.
As you step through there is darkness and chill and you feel as if you're falling in every direction at once. Just as it began, the sensation ends.
And it's hot. It's the hottest you've ever felt. And humid. Your armor and garb immediately begins to soak with your own sweat.
You're in a similar chamber to where you left, except for the temperature and humidity.
"Welcome to Chult, and the home of my friend, Merchant Prince Wakanga O'Tamu. Come." She hobbles forward to open the door.
Several stairs and hallways later, amongst magical torches set in sconces and soft tinkly music that seems to come from nowhere and everywhere, you arrive at what is clearly an antechamber of some kind. Syndra stands at the bottom of a guarded stairwell that leads up to the manor proper; your way is clearly blocked, but there is a hallway to the side that appears to empty out into the city via a servant's entrance.
"Wakanga and I have some catching up and research to take care of," says Syndra. "We will be busy most of the day; let us reconvene this evening and I will share whatever leads we have found. In the meantime, enjoy Port Nyanzaru; I suggest you secure lodging at the Thundering Lizard or Kaya's House of Repose near the Red Bazaar."
With that, you are shown outside... where it is even hotter than inside. You find yourself in a tropical city under the blazing sun. The familiar sounds of a harbor--creaking ropes, slapping waves, heavy barrels rolling across cobblestones-mingle with voices shouting and cursing in an unfamiliar language filled with clicks, inhalations, and singsongy words that make it sound almost musical. The aroma of unfamiliar spices and tropical fruit mixes with the wharf side smells of fish, tar, and canvas.
Beyond all that, Port Nayanzaru is an explosion of color. Buildings are painted in bright shades of blue, green, orange, and salmon pink, or their walls are adorned with murals portraying giant reptiles and mythical heroes. Every building sports baskets and clay urns of colorful flowers or is draped in leafy, flowering vines. Minstrels in bright clothing adorned with feathers and shells perform on street corners. Multicolored peanuts and sun awnings flutter atop the city walls. A crowd of children dressed in feathered hats and capes races past you, squealing in delighted terror as a street performer costumed as a big-toothed lizard stomps and roars behind them. The whole city seems to be bustling, sweating, laughing, swearing, and singing.
Through quick interactions with locals, this is the feeling you get for the city [let's see how this works]:
"Well..." Taman says, clearly taken aback for a moment. he is not use to being one palce then another in an instance. Glancing aorund, and seeing aworld like nothing he has experienced so far, he takes a moment to collect himself. "First order of business then seems to be to find a place to stay." Taman says finally, shaking his head as if to get his bearings reset. Expecting the others to be ok with this, he starts looking for someone who can tell them the directions to either of the places mentioned.
"We need directions to the Thundering Lizard, or Kaya's House of Repose..." Taman mentions to anyone who might look like they could give directions. He would try common first, then elvish, dwarven, gnomish, and Dracconic if necessary. (expecting common to work ,but just in case...)
That was one of the rare moment, when Cimeri appreciated her unfortunate heritage - tieflings do not get "hot". At the temperature, when they are indeed feel hot, others normally die. Humidity, though, was an unpleasant surprise. Nauseating travel through the portal and kaleidoscope of the colours and smells added to the dizzying effect, Cimeri even forgot to ask why were they not introduced to Wakanga but sent away immediately.
She followed Taman without arguing - any stable point in that carnival would be welcomed.
One of the guards outside the servant's entrance seems to have overheard you. His skin is dark, hair black and curly, as it seems the majority of human 'Chultans' seem to be; glancing about, you see other Chultan races ambling about the streets: an albino dwarf with geometric monochromatic tattoos on his face struggles to get a beast the size of two cows, but reptilian, with three horns erupting from its face, to move a two wheeled cart of melons through the crowded street. A yellow lizard folk dressed in rags slumps against the side of the building, chest bared, soaking up the sun. An aarakockra steps from a balcony and launches itself into the air spreading its wings, iridescent blue and green feathers shining. A tabaxi minstrel strolls in circles in a nearby square, her leopard fur standing out beneath a brilliant red cloak as she strums a lyre and sings in an otherworldly voice.
The guard speaks. "Head for the Red Bazaar, in the Market Ward," he grunts, looking you over, halting for a moment on the towering form of Scoria. "Looks to me more like the Thundering Lizard would be your style; Kaya's is for... well... folks who want to spend a lot of money." He shifts his stance; you notice that for a guard he doesn't wear a lot of armor, none of them do, perhaps due to the heat. "Animals? Head down to Tiryki Anchorage for a look at the racers. You haven't seen anything yet."
As if on cue a tremendous roar from beyond makes the guard start. "Gets me every time," he mutters as an answering roar blasts across the city from the other direction. "Coming back tonight?" he asks. "Might want to wash up at the Baths. The Prince doesn't deal with a lot of common folk."
[You're free for about two 3 hour blocks of time, so can see two parts of the city apiece before coming back. If you are asking about town, please include a Charisma roll to move things along, or include any tests you think I might ask for, actually; not all things will require tests but it's faster if you provide it and I don't have to ask for it. Bad rolls that were unnecessary will not count against you (but may provide colorful description text)]
"Thanks friend." Taman tells the guard. "I would like to see if i can find any maps of the general area, or lore about the jungles. Any place I should look?" Once he has the answer he would head off towards the Red Bazaar, still generally expecting the others to be following him. "I think checking into the Thundering Lizard would be our first step, then we can check out some of the city to see if we can learn anything of use..." Taman says to the group as he walks decisively through the city, following his directions. His mind would already be going through options for what they might possibly need for a trek into the jungle, since he doubts very much if the thing they are after is in this city. "We may want a guide as well..." He comments on the way. "I think we may need someone who knows the region, and how to cope with it, if we are to have any hope of getting where we need to go." he has come to the conclusion he is not qualified to know what they could need for the journey they are about to undertake.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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(Can Cimeri fix her shortsword or replace it? Even if she has to buy it)
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
[If she's nice and takes Scoria's to the smith as well, sure - I use a method of 1/10 to 1/2 the cost of the original to repair. Shortsword costs 10gp. Glaive costs 20 gp. So with that:]
Cimeri hits the smith before going to Syndra's and is quoted a night's work and cost for each:
Shortsword: 1 gold pieces.
Glaive: 5 gold pieces.
If either roll is 0 or negative, cost is 5 silver.
Edit: Scoria's came out silly high so I rerolled it.
(I'll subtract the cost!)
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
[Thanks, Scoria pls do the same, and to all members: I am hands-off, I don't want to micro-manage your character sheet. Just be honest and take care of your stuff in a timely fashion and we'll be all good.]
(Can I get details on what those crossbow bolts were? Are they just +1 bolts, or something else?)
[yup +1 bolts]
One of the large doors leading into this room swings quietly open and a tall thin half-elf steps into the room, tentatively glancing around. He has a kind face, pale, and curious eyes under a tangled mess of dark black hair. He wears brown leather armor over rather plain pants with a colorful red shirt under his light leather chest piece. A green cloak hangs from his back, pressed under a large backpack finished with a shield hung on it. He looks at each person in turn, "Um...are you the folks going to Chult. We were told the trip to Chult was in here." He speaks in a strange accent you're not familiar with. Strange tattoos decorate the back of his hands and run up his arms. He strikes you immediately as...odd.
Not seeing any immediate resistance, he opens the door more fully and allows his companion in. Behind him steps a male elf wearing similarly colored clothes also toting a large backpack. (I'll let him describe himself more fully.)
"My name is Fulcra. I believe you were in need of the services of a druid?" He steps aside, giving a half bow and presenting Vilvandor to you. "I present to you, an elf of the wild woods and all powerful druid, Vilvandor!" He makes the intro with a small grin on his face, clearly enjoying the chance to embarrass his friend. He glances around the room at the serious faces, his mouth twitching as he clearly tries to judge the crowd.
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
One member of the crowd is quite easy to judge - a monk is obvious no matter what the race/size/age and in case of a purple tiefling, meditating in the corner, the pose speaks for itself. Black mane, black eyes, dark purple skin with white tattoos that could rival Fulcra's. She looks young - too young for the serious expedition in plans - but determined. And a couple minutes of observation will tell that the pupil that lost her Master is trying very hard to "outmonk" herself and be worthy of his memory. Nature and character breaks through the imposed discipline from time to time, but she is doing her best to keep it at bay.
"Welcome. My name is Cimeri," she introduced only herself not offending others with forced presentation, "we are going to Chult, yes, and hoped to find more people willing to take the journey since there are only three of us. But did not specifically call for druid?" "Though we would welcome anyone?" she turned to others looking for support.
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Taman moves to Cimeri's side and lays a hand on her shoulder, giving her a squeeze as he glances to her fondly first, then to the newcomers.
"Well met." Taman says with a nod to them in greeting. "I am Taman Landon, a cleric in service to Azuth, and a fledgling wizard..." He glances to their host. "I am guessing our host has requested your services due to the danger of where we are headed." He looks back to the newcomers. "Personally, I think all the help we can get the better..." Taman is a human, with storm-gray eyes and black hair. he wears a set of scale mail, with a shield laying on the floor near his chair, having the symbol of Azuth on it's front. He has a confident manner, and meets each of your eyes directly, his own showing a logical and appraising intelect.
"Finding the Soulmonger sounds like a big challenge" says a huge woman - 7ft tall, nearly as broad across the shoulders and with muscles like corded iron. She's probably the strangest-looking person in this or any other room, with stony grey skin that's shot through with flashes of blue-green iridescence as she moves and hair like broken shards of flint. She wears simple furs and carries an enormous glaive as well as a hefty maul hung at her waist. "So we probably need all the help we can get. A hunting party of three doesn't take down big targets as easily as one of five. I'm Scoria - welcome to the team."
Vilvandor enters the room behind Fulcra. He is slight, neither short nor tall, but whip thin under tight fitting leathers and a mottled green cloak. A green enameled stag's-head badge of the Emerald Enclave prominently displayed. While most have their water skins tucked away in packs or hidden below cloaks, he wears his prominently on his belt, in just as easy reach as his dagger. His long brown hair is pulled back from his angular face. His eyes dart from person to person, perceptive and a little bit wild.
"I am Vilvandor Mathor. You may call me Vil." The elf says, unceremoniously. "Syndra has told me of the perils of the jungles of Chult. It sounds more dangerous than the Misty Forest or the High Moor, but I will do what I can to lead us all through them safely."
Taman gives the druid a nod and then turns to their host.
"You required us to come here with all speed, has something changed?" Taman asks as he tries to meet her eyes in the mask she wears. "Our experience with the Undead Lady were rather unpleasant, and things could have gone very wrong there, but we are here now, and have gotten the information to tell us where to go next. Do you have anything you can add to the fact the Soulmonger is in Chult? Is there any contact you, or the Harpers, have in Chult who can aid us in our search?" Taman paces a bit as he asks his questions, his hands behind his back, his voice calm, yet probing.
Fulcra pokes 'Vil' with his elbow, bouncing his dark eyebrows up and down in a knowing fashion, "Chult. Pfffff. Vil has this...noooo problem. Jungles are just forests with more snakes right? And...spiders. And...other big targets was it? Thank you Scoria for putting that dark shadow in our future. So, a Soul Monger? Is that like, a fish monger, but...someone who sells souls instead? What's a soul go for these days? Are old souls worth more than young souls? Are they like wine and cheese that get better with age, or...more like boots, you want a fresh set to walk in? Ooooh, is that wine?" Fulcra walks across the room picking a flute up off the tray. He settles himself down on the couch, a kindly happy smile on his lips as he sips his drink. It seems clear he's not expecting answers to any of his questions.
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
Taman glances to the elf as the elf takes a seat. "A soulmonger is similar to a lich's philactory... Except this one is global in scope it seems, and is the cause of the Death Curse that keeps clerics from being able to bring recently dead beings back to life." He then glances back to their host, awaiting answers to his previous questions.
"Your eagerness is appreciated," Syndra grates from behind the silver mask as her servant wheels her chair back into the room. "I also see no reason to delay." She motions to a liveried servant who has accompanied her. "Please follow Ankram to the cellar; I'm afraid stairs are no longer possible for me," she sighs, gesturing about her as multiple servants lurch forward to quickly and quietly deconstruct her wheelchair and begin reassembling it into a palanquin fit for the tight angles of a stairway.
Ankram leads you from the room, past rows and rows of scrolls and maps, globes, crystals, hanging robes on display, and masterful works of art both of brush and sculpture. Two flights of massive, wide marble stairs later and he produces a brass ring of blocky keys. He sets three different keys into three clockwork-style locks and spins a crank at the side of a thick wooden door carved with ornate sigils.
With a click, the door glides open as if weightless. Beyond is a stone hallway with a number of similar doors set into it; the 'cellar' is warm and dry, through what means is not clear, but it's comfortable. Through a final door, you find yourselves in a small stone hexagonal chamber; two acolytes in robes nod to you as they finish inscribing a chalk circle on the polished granite floor before exiting.
With less grace than she'd probably appreciate, Syndra arrives amongst bustling servants; she is lifted from her chair and set in front of a long walking staff set with a blue gemstone in the claws of a bird of prey at the top. She clutches the staff and shuffles forward to the edge of the circle.
"You have all you need mistress?" asks Ankram. Syndra simply stares at the man, who bows in embarrassment and departs closing the door.
"I lose patience with the man daily; he specializes in divination for a reason, specifically as I've asked. Wouldn't you think he knows what I need and don't need?" she spits. She mumbles something about good help being hard to find before continuing. "To Chult, yes?" She focuses on her staff for a moment and the sigils and circle begin to glow. "Let us depart," she rasps, motioning you into the circle.
As you step through there is darkness and chill and you feel as if you're falling in every direction at once. Just as it began, the sensation ends.
And it's hot. It's the hottest you've ever felt. And humid. Your armor and garb immediately begins to soak with your own sweat.
You're in a similar chamber to where you left, except for the temperature and humidity.
"Welcome to Chult, and the home of my friend, Merchant Prince Wakanga O'Tamu. Come." She hobbles forward to open the door.
******************************************************************************************************************************************************
Several stairs and hallways later, amongst magical torches set in sconces and soft tinkly music that seems to come from nowhere and everywhere, you arrive at what is clearly an antechamber of some kind. Syndra stands at the bottom of a guarded stairwell that leads up to the manor proper; your way is clearly blocked, but there is a hallway to the side that appears to empty out into the city via a servant's entrance.
"Wakanga and I have some catching up and research to take care of," says Syndra. "We will be busy most of the day; let us reconvene this evening and I will share whatever leads we have found. In the meantime, enjoy Port Nyanzaru; I suggest you secure lodging at the Thundering Lizard or Kaya's House of Repose near the Red Bazaar."
With that, you are shown outside... where it is even hotter than inside. You find yourself in a tropical city under the blazing sun. The familiar sounds of a harbor--creaking ropes, slapping waves, heavy barrels rolling across cobblestones-mingle with voices shouting and cursing in an unfamiliar language filled with clicks, inhalations, and singsongy words that make it sound almost musical. The aroma of unfamiliar spices and tropical fruit mixes with the wharf side smells of fish, tar, and canvas.
Beyond all that, Port Nayanzaru is an explosion of color. Buildings are painted in bright shades of blue, green, orange, and salmon pink, or their walls are adorned with murals portraying giant reptiles and mythical heroes. Every building sports baskets and clay urns of colorful flowers or is draped in leafy, flowering vines. Minstrels in bright clothing adorned with feathers and shells perform on street corners. Multicolored peanuts and sun awnings flutter atop the city walls. A crowd of children dressed in feathered hats and capes races past you, squealing in delighted terror as a street performer costumed as a big-toothed lizard stomps and roars behind them. The whole city seems to be bustling, sweating, laughing, swearing, and singing.
Through quick interactions with locals, this is the feeling you get for the city [let's see how this works]:
What would you like to do today?
"Well..." Taman says, clearly taken aback for a moment. he is not use to being one palce then another in an instance. Glancing aorund, and seeing aworld like nothing he has experienced so far, he takes a moment to collect himself. "First order of business then seems to be to find a place to stay." Taman says finally, shaking his head as if to get his bearings reset. Expecting the others to be ok with this, he starts looking for someone who can tell them the directions to either of the places mentioned.
"We need directions to the Thundering Lizard, or Kaya's House of Repose..." Taman mentions to anyone who might look like they could give directions. He would try common first, then elvish, dwarven, gnomish, and Dracconic if necessary. (expecting common to work ,but just in case...)
"Incredible!" Vil says, taking in the colorful city. "I can only imagine what sorts of wonderful plants and animals we'll see here."
That was one of the rare moment, when Cimeri appreciated her unfortunate heritage - tieflings do not get "hot". At the temperature, when they are indeed feel hot, others normally die. Humidity, though, was an unpleasant surprise. Nauseating travel through the portal and kaleidoscope of the colours and smells added to the dizzying effect, Cimeri even forgot to ask why were they not introduced to Wakanga but sent away immediately.
She followed Taman without arguing - any stable point in that carnival would be welcomed.
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
One of the guards outside the servant's entrance seems to have overheard you. His skin is dark, hair black and curly, as it seems the majority of human 'Chultans' seem to be; glancing about, you see other Chultan races ambling about the streets: an albino dwarf with geometric monochromatic tattoos on his face struggles to get a beast the size of two cows, but reptilian, with three horns erupting from its face, to move a two wheeled cart of melons through the crowded street. A yellow lizard folk dressed in rags slumps against the side of the building, chest bared, soaking up the sun. An aarakockra steps from a balcony and launches itself into the air spreading its wings, iridescent blue and green feathers shining. A tabaxi minstrel strolls in circles in a nearby square, her leopard fur standing out beneath a brilliant red cloak as she strums a lyre and sings in an otherworldly voice.
The guard speaks. "Head for the Red Bazaar, in the Market Ward," he grunts, looking you over, halting for a moment on the towering form of Scoria. "Looks to me more like the Thundering Lizard would be your style; Kaya's is for... well... folks who want to spend a lot of money." He shifts his stance; you notice that for a guard he doesn't wear a lot of armor, none of them do, perhaps due to the heat. "Animals? Head down to Tiryki Anchorage for a look at the racers. You haven't seen anything yet."
As if on cue a tremendous roar from beyond makes the guard start. "Gets me every time," he mutters as an answering roar blasts across the city from the other direction. "Coming back tonight?" he asks. "Might want to wash up at the Baths. The Prince doesn't deal with a lot of common folk."
[You're free for about two 3 hour blocks of time, so can see two parts of the city apiece before coming back. If you are asking about town, please include a Charisma roll to move things along, or include any tests you think I might ask for, actually; not all things will require tests but it's faster if you provide it and I don't have to ask for it. Bad rolls that were unnecessary will not count against you (but may provide colorful description text)]
"Thanks friend." Taman tells the guard. "I would like to see if i can find any maps of the general area, or lore about the jungles. Any place I should look?" Once he has the answer he would head off towards the Red Bazaar, still generally expecting the others to be following him. "I think checking into the Thundering Lizard would be our first step, then we can check out some of the city to see if we can learn anything of use..." Taman says to the group as he walks decisively through the city, following his directions. His mind would already be going through options for what they might possibly need for a trek into the jungle, since he doubts very much if the thing they are after is in this city. "We may want a guide as well..." He comments on the way. "I think we may need someone who knows the region, and how to cope with it, if we are to have any hope of getting where we need to go." he has come to the conclusion he is not qualified to know what they could need for the journey they are about to undertake.