“Absolutely incredible...” Lesley is a little bit in awe, “I would never expect such artistic vision in a place so remote! Um, Atuar, what is the correct way to greet a prince here?”

Atuar chuckles lightly and shrugs. "You expect me to know? I only see princes at city gatherings, or in casual setting like bathhouse."

The large bugbear slumps, “Yes, I suppose that’s fair.” Before standing tall once again, “Come along gentlemen! Let’s meet this prince!” And goes to rattattat on the door.

The suits of dino-hide armor suddenly wheel around towards Lesley as he knocks on the door, they then "stare" at him with an utterly unnerving gaze (since they don't really have a face) as a single helmet made of a large reptilian beast peers down towards the scholarly bugbear. "Identify yourself." a voice says as it suddenly cuts through the tropical sounds of Port Nyanzaru.

“Um, ah, Lesley. Of Syndra Silvane?” Lesley is caught off guard by such ornate magical automatons.

The suits of armor suddenly step back, resuming their original positions, the door then opens of its own accord as you immediately see the elegant extravagance of the merchant prince's villa. Tribal masks with animal filigree glow brightly, serving as a bright light in the luxurious hallways and rooms. As soon as you all step inside a light music tickles your ears, a soft beat of drums and some deep woodwind instrument. The whole entranceway seems to beckon you to enter further.

Gesturing to the rest, Lesley continues, “Well gentlemen, I believe they’re expecting us! I must say, they certainly know how to make a guest feel welcome!”

Talin stands bemused.

{{Does this place end? Who has need of so much room?}}

“I can’t say I understand what you’re saying, but I’m sure it’s nothing but compliments!”

As you walk through the splendid hallway, you emerge into a grand foyer. Bookshelves stacked across the walls hold hundreds of books, and as the light music grows in volume you can't help but slightly drift and sway to the melodic tune. Eventually, your eyes fall upon a desk crammed amongst several bookcases, several tomes lie open upon it, including one that is practically devouring a chultan man. As you're about to say something he immediately raises one finger, as if to cut you off, then once his eyes meticulously scan the whole page the book snaps closed and he looks towards all of you. Wakanga O'Tamu is a middle-aged Chultan man, his beard is tipped with gray and even inside he wears a small cloth cap that complements his illustrious blue robes perfectly. "Greetings, I am Wakanga O'Tamu, merchant prince of magic. I assume that you are here on behalf of the journey from Baldur's Gate to Port Nyanzaru?"

“Yes sir! Prince! Your Majesty? Grace...? I apologize, I am woefully uninformed about Chultan culture and customs. In any case, it is as you said. My name is Lesley, these are my associates, Paulo, Salazar, and I believe... Talin? Yes! That’s right, Talin.”

The bearded man strokes his beard contemplatively... "I see. Although, I was told to expect members of the Flaming Fist... and you do not look like members of their order. May I ask what happened or-" he pauses and a flash of realization swarms his face, as he states: "Aremag. That's what happened, isn't it. Curses, I do not think Syndra will like this information at all, but I shall not presume - although judging by your faces it seems I am correct - what exactly happened?"

“It would seem that the members of the filming fist... overestimated their capabilities.” Paulo looks down uncomfortably. “The ships were lost with all hands. Is Lady Silvane well?”

Quote from dapperdancer >>

“It would seem that the members of the filming fist... overestimated their capabilities.” Paulo looks down uncomfortably. “The ships were lost with all hands. Is Lady Silvane well?”

The Merchant Prince of Magic shakes his head sadly. "So it seems you have met our... guardian. Well, if they did not successfully navigate the obstacles of the jungle upon first entering the bay, I'm sure they would not have been any help finding the cure to whatever is killing my friend." He then turns to Paulo and continues. "She currently battling a terrible fever, and it seems that the priests are unable to do anything about it. I've tried to divine what I can, but not even Savras has any insight into this situation it seems." At which point he begins to stroke his long dark beard. "So, you are the only remaining members of the expedition that was intended to stop a curse that is killing many of the powerful, which itself spans the entire continent if not the world. It seems you have your work cut out for you." He chuckles feebly, clearly trying to make light of the situation as much as possible. "However..." His face returns to a seriously stern visage. "And I would not say this if it were not of the utmost importance. There are strange occurrences... well, occurring in Port Nyanzaru, and as one who is intrinsically connected to the well-being of this fine city, I do have to ask you: Would you maybe be able to delay your quest for a short while? I would not ask if the situation were not as dire as I believe it to be..."

Quiet until now, Salazar speaks. "Prince O'Tamu?" As he gains the prince's attention, Salazar makes a leg in the courtly fashion of his home. "I am Salazar Roaringhorn, from Amphail & Waterdeep. I know my House, specifically my brother Darrow, has done some trade here in the port in the past."

"Well met. If they do, it is not in magic artefacts, young sir. I am sorry that I do not know the name," Wakanga returns, instantly confirming Salazar's suspicion that Wakanga is a master of negotiation. Salazar's eyes twinkle and he counters.

"Goodman, we cannot answer such an open question with so little information. You may be a prince of commerce here, but in every port and marketplace, Context is King!"  Noting a wry smile from the Chultan merchant, Salazar begins to unfurl his first true volley in the negotiation.  "We hear that the entire world suffers under this malady. My friends seek to spare not only the Mysterious Merchant that is our patron, but also a dear professor of theirs, and my own aunt fades from this malaise. If you wish us to put all of this aside for more than a day, we will need to know more. We will need to know more and we will wish to be shown how this delay improves our chances of success in our quest." 

Wakanga nods, noting the more practical mindset of the noble to himself. "Believe me Lord" he slightly enunciates the title, hoping to provide a subtle nod to Salzar's lineage only to then dive into the negotiations that the young noble began. "Roaringhorn, I too am utmostly concerned with the ending of the 'Death Curse,' but I believe that there are also several matters at work. While I am afraid I have little information to offer I can tell you one thing for certain. If you were the only heroes to arrive here, the factions' resources are stretched thin. Originally, they had informed us Princes that a large regiment of heroes would be coming in order to stop the death curse as well as to put an end to the Port's problems. Nevertheless, with you as the only members of that ill-fated journey, the remaining resources of the factions are spent trying to keep the city together. As a result, they have been unable to focus their efforts on uncovering more knowledge about the curse. Therefore, such a 'delay' as you call it would undoubtedly save this city as well as allow the factions to redouble their work on discovering exactly how this death curse came about, and how to stop it." He stares deeply at Salzar, but then his grim eyes fall away to concern as he then turns to Salazar's compatriots. "Not to mention that any work done on your part would surely aid the city. Therefore, might a delay of a couple days be worth it to save a couple lives?"

Lesley enthusiastically nods his head and looks to his companions, clearly looking help the people of the peninsula. He understands the risk of a delay, but also realizes that if more people die during this barghest-like curse, then it might make it worse.

Paulo half turns toward Salazar, dropping his voice to a whisper. “These people need help, Sally. I’m not sure if we’re the right people to give it to them, but we need this town on our side if we’re going to have a hope of being successful on our quest. Plus, after losing the crew of those ships to the dragon turtle, I think Lesley might stop and help these people even if we choose to continue onward.” Paulo spares a glance at Talin. Looking back to Salazar, “Does the elf understand what we’re discussing?”

The "master of magic" nods. "I am sure that your service will not go unwelcomed. For now, feel free to settle in for the night. I am sure you have had a... harrowing journey. There are several fine establishments here in Nyanzaru, the Thundering Lizard is certainly nice, but Kaya's House of Repose is certainly an enjoyable time as well... albeit, it comes at a..." he pauses and strokes his beard. "bit of a cost. Nevertheless, I am sure that you shall be contacted soon enough about helping this city. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart."