Irma and Koris retrace their steps, heading toward the harbormaster's office. The office is a sturdy, airy building, and a few clerks can be seen milling about through the large open windows. 

A glance at the bulletin board reveals several sun-faded notices, the most prominent of which reads, "All Port Nyanzaru guides must register and serve under the auspices of merchant prince Jobal. Black market guides will be beaten, blinded, or beheaded."

Notices for specific guides for hire are as follows:

Azaka Stormfang:

 Eku:

Gondolo and Faroul:

Hew Hackinstone:

Qawasha:

Nodding at Anzir, Poole shows a half-grin. "You certainly look the part! I've had some... extended vacations outside of Baldur's Gate but they were definitely not expeditions. I think I'm going to acquire some information, as it were."

She's been looking around, trying to get a read of the room. Eventually she begins circulating, attempting to make conversation and charm her way into a few conversations with locals who seem open to talking. Listening for recent news with one talkative group; sitting down with some older women to buy them a round and ask them, after small talk, about adventurers, the death curse, and the Soulmonger; entering a dart-throwing game or other game of skill with a group of hardened-looking mercenaries and subtly asking them about the dangers, tips, and tricks of surviving in the jungle. She's used to this sort of thing, it's easy to see.

(If none of those options are possible in this tavern, feel free to adjust as needed, DM Jack. Poole's trying to Face and Skill her way into getting some helpful information on how to proceed, given the party has little to go by at this point.)

“Irma, I don’t know about you, but I don’t think Gondolo is for us... I’m more inclined to talk to Azaka, Hew, or Qawasha. Although I’ll admit to a curiosity about black market guides. Want to go rejoin the others and see what the others think?”

Melanthios will ask around to see if there are any notable mercenary companies in the area.

Irma nods to what Koris, "I like Hew as well. He looks like an older dwarf. I'm also an older dwarf. Nobody gets to live 200 years by being incompetent in this environment. I hope."

Anzir will quietly sit and drink his nej, studying the room for any artifacts on display.

In Thundering Lizard...

Poole buys a round of drinks and eases her way into a conversation with a rather diverse group of inn patrons: a female Chultan human, a half-elven male, a human male, and a female tiefling. As the glasses of nej are refilled, everyone begins to speak a bit more freely. The word Soulmonger is unknown to everyone at the table, but they have heard talk of the death curse. Poole can sense that none of them have any inclination that the source of the death curse might actually be in Chult. Regarding adventurers, Poole is told a few stories, seemingly ones that her new acquaintances find to be the most memorable or noteworthy.

“One fellow—a lanky human whose name I cannot recall—told me bird folk inhabit a monastery that hangs on the side of a plateau many miles up the Olung River, somewhere past Laughing Gorge. He said the bird folk are holding the last royal heir of Chult as their prisoner,” recounts the tiefling.

 “I’ve heard that as well,” chimes the half-elf, “but I doubt the part about the royal heir. The only royalty in the jungles of Chult is the memorial to Queen Zalkoré that stands in the garden palace of Nangalore, near the eastern shore of the Olung. A bit north of Lake Luo is what I’ve been told.”

 The Chultan woman smiles and shakes her head slightly. “Those stories make for excellent children’s tales, friends. Allow me to speak of something that is both believable and true: the troubles of The Order of the Gauntlet. They came here to cleanse the jungle of the undead, and now they have recently lost one of their encampments. Their second encampment is faltering as well. I see their emissaries now and then as they travel the River Soshenstar by canoe to fetch more supplies and templars from Port Nyanzaru.”

 “The aarakocra—the bird folk—are real. You know this to be true,” remarks the tiefling.

“Aye, they are real,” replies the Chultan woman. “The royal heir being held captive is not.”

- - - - - - - - - - - 

Melanthios works his away around the inn, being selective in his conversations. The phrase mercenary company raises a few eyebrows, and the first few interactions prove to be fruitless for the ranger. He then notices a pair of tabaxi, one of which wears leather armor and an eye patch. The two are sharing a bottle of wine and engaged in quiet conversation as Melanthios approaches. The ranger’s dialogue with the tabaxi begins awkwardly, for the female (eye-patch wearing) tabaxi is hesitant to speak and constantly glancing around the room as if she expects trouble to break out at any moment. The male tabaxi, however, is willing to talk and as he does so the female becomes less tense. He introduces himself as Flask.

“Mercenaries?” he repeats. “Certainly. The Flaming Fist has a presence here. I imagine you know of them. Fort Beluarian is their outpost. Their patrols strike out into the jungle to “pacify” territory and claim lost treasures.”

The two tabaxi have little else to add to the discussion about The Flaming Fist. As Melanthios rises from his chair, Flask says, “If you’re ever in need of a guide…”

“…remember us,” says the female, unexpectedly. “We are Flask and River.”

The male tabaxi nods. “We advertise our services discreetly, if you understand my meaning.”

- - - - - - - - - - - 

Anzir takes in the room, periodically tracking Melanthios and Poole as they, individually, move about the place and strike up conversations with the other patrons. There are no artifacts per se on display in the inn, but upon the walls of the place are displayed a multitude of framed ink drawings that give the dragonborn a few insights into this new land:

• Dancing humanoids with faces twisted into exaggerated smiles drink from yellow fruit that hang from a nearby tree
• Fist-sized mushrooms with a concave top grow atop a fallen tree trunk
• Chultans row canoes in a peaceful river scene
• A creature very much like a rabbit with a spiral unicorn horn sits upon its haunches, staring into the jungle
• Dinosaurs of several varieties are engaging in various activities: hunting, flying, racing (with humanoids on their backs) through city streets, devouring other dinosaurs
• A brightly-colored snail that has flail-like tentacles for its head
• A humanoid-sized plant with three flowers--one yellow, one orange, one red--that has grappled a spear-wielding Chultan with its red flower stem

On the streets of Port Nyanzaru...

Irma and Koris, after visiting the harbormaster's office, walk through the sun-soaked streets toward the Thundering Lizard to join the others. Seemingly out of nowhere, a male human Chultan stumbles up to the characters and whispers, “Speak to the wise guardian of Orolunga, east of Mbala. She can direct you to that which you seek.”

The man then collapses. Irma and Koris, after looking at each other, slightly bewildered, quickly shake the man back into consciousness. He reveals that his name is Eshek and that he has had an irresistible need to find a certain group of people.

"Yes!" he exclaims. "Both of you! You are the ones who match the description in my mind. Yes! There should be others, however."

The dragonborn studies these drawings with great interest, noting the possible dangers they face: exotic fruits and fungi that may be mind-altering or deadly, water hazards, large and fierce creatures such as these 'dinosaurs', deadly plants, and unknown mammals and snails. He orders another nej as he takes his seat again, pondering these dangers and how he might face them.

Melanthios approaches whoever's still in the tavern with him.

"The cats over there are also guides," he says, jerking his thumb to the two tabaxi he was just conversing with.  "They say they prefer to advertise their services more . . .discreetly.  Also, there's a mercenary group with a strong presence here.  The Flaming Fists."

(What would Melanthios know about them from his background feature?)

Poole thanks the group for their conversation, and eventually makes her way back to the Paladin and the ranger and explains about the Order of the Gauntlet’s troubles, thinking that is most likely to be related to their tasks.

Irma helps Koris (man)handle the man to where the others are and says, "I'll be back soon."

(OOC: I'm taking a back seat on the guide(s) selection)

To the others she says, "So we have options and information. Lets make a fairly quick decision and be on our way."

She then goes out into the city and finds a place that would paint some jungle camouflage stripes and stuff on her armor and other clothing.

She will also look around for maps of the area, as many and as varied as she possibly can. And then make it back to others and study the maps.

“Irma! You said we shouldn’t go out alone,” Koris is trying to carry Eshek to a seat. 

To the rest of the party:
“Look folks, we’ve got a bit of a situation: first, we found a nice long list of guides. Second: this guy. He showed up and collapsed in front of us saying he was supposed to meet us to help guide us in our journey. I don’t know about you all, but I’m inclined to believe he is a brigand. I would be inclined to drop him off with a guard and find one of the other guides.”

“I’m inclined to look for Azaka Stormfang or Hew Hackinstone.”  

 Anzir considers the options, from those posted legitimately to the tabaxi across the room. "Not the dinosaur duo," he says, setting his empty cup down on the bar. "The rest I can live with."

The dragonborn eyes the tabaxi across the room, more thoughtfully than with suspicion. Then Anzir motions for Eshek to join him at the bar and orders two more nej. "Tell me everything," he says.

Quote from LordShadowthorn >>

Melanthios approaches whoever's still in the tavern with him.

"The cats over there are also guides," he says, jerking his thumb to the two tabaxi he was just conversing with.  "They say they prefer to advertise their services more . . .discreetly.  Also, there's a mercenary group with a strong presence here.  The Flaming Fists."

(What would Melanthios know about them from his background feature?)

Melanthios knows The Flaming Fist is a highly effective and, therefore, wealthy group of mercenaries based in Baldur's Gate. In fact, Fist members serve as city guards in that city. They pursue riches and glory, but not necessarily at all costs; keeping order in the realm is important to them as well. The Fist's presence in Chult, therefore, would seem to have one goal: gathering treasure from the legendary ruins that are said to be hidden in the jungles. 

Quote from Winenose >>

Irma helps Koris (man)handle the man to where the others are and says, "I'll be back soon."

(OOC: I'm taking a back seat on the guide(s) selection)

To the others she says, "So we have options and information. Lets make a fairly quick decision and be on our way."

She then goes out into the city and finds a place that would paint some jungle camouflage stripes and stuff on her armor and other clothing.

She will also look around for maps of the area, as many and as varied as she possibly can. And then make it back to others and study the maps.

Irma exits the Thundering Lizard and steps into one of Port Nyanzaru's common afternoon rain showers. Water begins to run down the street's wide gutters, heading toward the sea. The Market Ward houses its share of artists and craftsman, and after inspecting some of their work, Irma comes to an agreement with a Chultan man names Minté, who for 3 pieces of silver will make her chain mail "look as if it were made from the Chultan flora itself."

The search for a map of Chult proves to be a bit of a challenge. Irma quickly learns that maps are expensive, ranging between 10 and 25 gold pieces depending on the seller. Additionally, requests to see the map before the purchase are denied. "Look at the map for a minute and you'll no longer need to purchase it, friend," says one of the merchants. 

Trusting the map provided by Syndra will be sufficient, Irma, now thoroughly saturated by the rain, heads toward the inn to join the others. An acolyte from one of Port Nyanzaru's temples falls in stride with Irma, who recognizes immediately the symbol of Savras hanging from the acolyte's neck. "One is wise to visit the temple of the All-seeing," he advises.

The acolyte, saying nothing more, seems content to walk alongside Irma for a while. 

Quote from MindDetective >>

 Anzir considers the options, from those posted legitimately to the tabaxi across the room. "Not the dinosaur duo," he says, setting his empty cup down on the bar. "The rest I can live with."

The dragonborn eyes the tabaxi across the room, more thoughtfully than with suspicion. Then Anzir motions for Eshek to join him at the bar and orders two more nej. "Tell me everything," he says.

 "Yes, of course. That is precisely what I intend to do," remarks Eshek, who seems friendly and sincere but mildly bewildered by his current circumstance.

"I am of Savras, and in his temple I serve. Never have I had a vision. Other acolytes, yes, have experienced them. Not I, however. Not until this one. It is strange. Yes, it is strange, but it is simple for it has only two parts. The first is the message: Speak to the wise guardian of Orolunga, east of Mbala. She can direct you to that which you seek. The second is those who must hear the message: your companions and you, for those are the faces I have seen."

Eshek gulps down some nej and says, "That is all. And so I have had my first vision. What shall become of it, I wonder?"

Anzir recalls seeing a location called Mbala on the map provided by Syndra. The term Orolunga, however, was not on the map. 

Irma nods to the acolyte. "I'm not from around here. How generous would one usually need to be for maximum wisdom?" And she jingles her pouch of money to make her meaning extremely clear.

Melanthios shrugs.

"Sounds like a good starting place to me.  Beats stumbling around the jungle aimlessly."

Quote from Winenose >>

Irma nods to the acolyte. "I'm not from around here. How generous would one usually need to be for maximum wisdom?" And she jingles her pouch of money to make her meaning extremely clear.

 "Ah, a most pertinent question," responds the acolyte of Savras. "Grandfather Zitembe, head priest of the temple, is the one to answer."