Seebo stands outside the manor, crystal ball in hand, studying the house guards trying to glean any information that might be used to his advantage. A hint of a smile might indicate someone who enjoys their job, unkempt hair might indicate a rough night on the town. For one trained to tell fortunes, even the smallest bit of information can be a useful tool to manipulate.

Insight: 12

Yesqirelle cocks her head at the guard.

"Soft?  Grave dirt is soft, I suppose."

She gives her best unsettling smile, and then calmly walks past him.

"Really?" Ceidil asks, wide eyed, "I'd love to come!"

Shank proudly displays the stained poster he found in the alley as if it were a VIP ticket and attempts to saunter past the guard.

Leann sttrides onward, waving this new warrior to join her.  She walks up to the guards at the manner gate.  "I have come on invitation to speak to the lady about an expedition to Chult."  Leann announces crisply to the guard.  "This one is with me." She nods to the warrior who had bumped into her earlier and whom she had invited along.

The guard shakes off Yesqirelle's comment with a shrug, and shaking his head, tries unsuccessfully to find a way to refuse the bird-man. Seeing the two female newcomers, "Alright alright, go on. Suddenly everybody is an adventurer now." 

Seebo: Seebo notices only a few guards with a well kept appearance. Most of the guards are ill dressed, with dirty uniforms. The guard at the gate has particularly dirty clothes, and looks like he hasn't taken a bath in weeks.

Seeing a group of adventurers gaining admittance, Seebo realizes that an elaborate ruse might not even be required. Instead he just tries to follow along close behind them.

"Let me guess, another adventurer. I don't even care, just go on." The guard forgets professionalism, and spits on the ground again.  

Selen follows. He looks at the guard straight in the eyes waiting, almost hoping for violence. 

"Do you think me soft?" he asks head tilted to the side in question.

It seems strange to him that this man should be deciding who gets to enter since the lady is asking for any adventurers to come to her but he doesn't always understand this places customs. 

The guard's eyes widen when he sees the Drow, he backs away a few steps as you pass. 

At the door to the manor, another guard stands near the entrance. He opens the door as you approach. "Good luck. I've heard many things about Chult, none of them good." He smiles grimly.

You have been invited to the home of Syndra Silvane, a retired adventurer and merchant. A uniformed 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.

A person is seated in an overstuffed chair near the fire. You can’t discern a gender, because only the person’s head emerges from under a heavy blanket draped over the chair, and an embroidered hood and silver mask conceal the wearer’s face. Even the person’s dry, raspy voice provides no clue. “Help yourselves to wine, and seat yourselves, friends — I hope I may call you that.”

Yesqirelle blinks, surprised.

"I'd say that might be a bit premature.  You can call me Yesqirelle, if you wish."

"Of course," The person smiles.

Leann takes up a position standing near one of the walls. She crosses her arms over her chest and nods to the seated figure.  "So what is this about a journey to Chult?"

Seebo pours a glass of wine and wanders close to the mysterious figure. “So what’s with the mask? You deformed or something?”

Selen takes his position a bit off to the side. Crossing his arms. 

"Friends" he muses. "Tell us what you need of us. From your condition it looks dire." 

Ceidil also takes the offered glass of wine. "I've never been to Chult before, but something tells me you need something in a desperate hurry."

 "Dire indeed is my condition." She starts a fit of uncontrollable coughing which lasts almost a minute. "Many years ago, I was an adventurer, I died. My loyal companions went through great trials to bring be back from the dead." Her raspy voice continues. "What do you all know of the Death Curse?"   

Yesqirelle grimaces.

"It has the stink of the undead around it, I know that much.  This feels like some necromantic power to me."

Selen just shrugs, conceding that he doesn't know anything about it. 

Shank tests the word on his tongue. "-Hak- friend." He decides it has a nice ring to it.

"Well, friend, " He says, pouring himself a glass of wine, "Nothing -hak- in life is free. I know nothing of this death curse, but if you pay well I - hak- make it my job to know."