Syndra Silvane, The Deathcurse, and  Port Nyanzaru: 

It was the middle of the afternoon in Baldur’s Gate, and our adventurers had traveled from far and wide in response to their summonses. Each were there to meet Syndra Silvane, unaware that they were also meeting their future traveling companions and, perhaps, their destinies.
Kitayne arrived first. A well-dressed man, obviously some kind of attendant for a wealthy employer, answered the door and verified her identify. Already in her armor, Kitayne was ready for anything, but her warm nature and friendly smile were more apparent than her finery. She was welcomed inside and left in a nicely appointed sitting room.
The room was lush, comfortable, and full of alluring magical items. Everything, from the thick carpet to the ornate furnishings, bespoke wealth, power, and taste. Kitayne admired the room quietly. She was not the type to touch things that didn’t belong to her.
Soon, another knock on the door announced Dara’s arrival. Like Kitayne, she was welcomed by the attendant as soon as she confirmed her name and her intention to meet Syndra.
Dara was led to the sitting room and left alone with Kitayne, a stranger. They chatted politely and discovered something in common.
“I’m hoping Syndra can help me find…something important,” Dara admitted, somewhat warily. “I have reason to believe she knows where to find the thing I need. Things.”
Friendly, but equally as wary, Kitayne replied, “I’m hoping the same.”
As the two half-elf women shared a moment in the sitting room, the attendant answered another knock at the door.
Ororo, the harengon, was a little offended that the posh attendant was visibly taken aback by his appearance.
“Yeah, I’m a bunny, but I’m a person, too, aren’t I?” he snapped. “Anyway, I’m supposed to be here. I’m invited.”
Indeed he was supposed to be there, but this new addition was quite a different type of guest than the two who had already arrived. The attendant led him inside, but left him with a plea before closing the door.
“Please, don’t break anything.”
Kitayne and Dara were utterly delighted at the appearance of the harengon.
“Oi, a wee bunny man!” Dara exclaimed. “It’s rather cute, isn’t it?”
Ororo crossed his arms. “You could be a little more respectful,” he grumbled, but his manner intimated that he secretly enjoyed their surprise.
“Oh, and it can talk!” Dara continued, delighted.
Kitayne managed to control her bemusement enough to introduce herself and invite Ororo to make his own introductions.
Ororo looked decidedly ruffled and travel worn, his fur matted and clothes a little roughed up, but he was nonetheless clean and wearing quality leather armor. He had the look of someone who is trying to look like he’s been living rough, but is actually quite accustomed to comfort.
The three were still chatting animatedly when Rosalie arrived. She was a beautiful girl, pristine and polished. Her cloak was only a little rumpled from travel and was clearly of very fine craftsmanship. “Hello,” she greeted them, introducing herself as if this was her estate and she was the only one who truly belonged there.
As the group made another round of introductions, Ororo’s attention wandered. He pulled out his lute and began to play. The music was quite complicated, and the skill it took to play was obvious. The women were quietly impressed, even if they were also a little baffled by his choice to perform right then in this strange sitting room.
Finally, the attendant returned to bring them to Syndra. He led them up a grand spiral staircase to a large, wood-paneled room. A fine table was loaded with jeweled goblets and bottles of fine wine, and ceiling-high shelves overflowed with maps and charts. Clearly, this Syndra Silvane was a cartography enthusiast. A massive fireplace took up the far wall, and before that fire sat a figure draped so heavily in a blanket they could not make out any features.
A dry, rasping voice came out from beneath the folds of fabric. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice. Please, help yourself to wine.”
Each of the adventurers accepted the invitation, but not with equal enthusiasm. Rosalie poured herself a glass and held it daintily, but never took a sip. Kitayne and Dara poured themselves goblets, but were far more curious about the mage who made the offer. Ororo gladly helped himself to a glass, downed it, and eagerly poured another.
“I asked you to come here for good reason. You see, there is a horrible curse. A death curse. It is a wasting disease that is affecting anyone who has ever been raised from the dead. Slowly, constantly, it saps strength and pulls us back towards death,” she began to explain.
“Does that mean you died? You’re dead? I mean, you were dead, and now you’re dying, I guess?” Ororo asked, rapid-fire.
Syndra explained that she used to be an adventurer herself, and early in her years of questing, she did indeed die. A powerful priest resurrected her. Now, she’s being slowly and steadily drained of her life. “It’s not just that,” she continued, “but resurrection no longer works. Once a person dies, they cannot be resurrected by any means. Temples and scholars have tried to solve this problem, but so far, all have failed. This curse has spread to affect the entire world. Indeed, it may even affect all planes of existence.”
“Can ye tell us who cast this curse, then?” Dara asked.
“Did you send me visions?” Ororo interrupted.
Syndra looked over at him first. “Yes, I did send you visions, Ororo,” she agreed.
The harengon bounced on his large feet, ticking his ears impatiently. He swigged the rest of his wine. “Do you have any whiskey?”
With a gesture of her hand, Syndra silenced Ororo with a powerful, but subtle magic. Kitayne couldn’t resist a little laugh, but Rose was disgusted at Ororo’s behavior.
With the exuberant Ororo unable to speak, the group got back to business.
“What is it you think we can do to help?” Kitayne asked sensibly.
Syndra was pleased to get back to business. “I received this intelligence from the Harpers’ Guild at great cost, and I can trust its veracity entirely.”
Ororo’s ears perked up at the mention of the Harpers, but he couldn’t speak, so everyone ignored him.
Syndra continued. “Deep in the Chultan jungle, there is a device called the Soulmonger. This Soulmonger is somehow collecting and consuming the souls of everyone who dies, and it is also collecting the souls of those who have died in the past. This artifact must be found and destroyed. It is the only cure for this curse.”
“What does it look like?” Rose wanted to know.
“Unfortunately, I do not know much more than I’ve just told you. I can’t say what it looks like, where exactly it’s located, or even what it truly is. I can only tell you that the little bit I do know is absolutely reliable,” Syndra answered.
Kitayne spoke up again. “How long does it take to kill someone who has already died?”
With a deep sigh, Syndra gave her answer. “That depends on the strength of the subject. Some are robust and seem like they’ll last for months. Others perished after just a couple of days. I hope that I have a few more months, but I can’t be sure.” Her head dropped a little, and it was clear that she was very worried.
Determined, Dara chimed in. “So, who can we talk to that might give us a bit more information or description about this Soulmonger?”
“Once you reach Chult, I recommend that you speak with the Harpers there. They have the most current information, as far as I know,” Syndra responded.
“And we all have to work together?” Dara continued, “Even the wee rabbit?”
Ororo tried to grumble, but was still magically silenced.
Syndra agreed. “You will do better to stay together. I will also send others to you after you reach Chult. They could not be here tonight, but expect to hear from them soon. Now, I have some things to help you on your quest.”
Going to one of the overstuffed shelves of maps, Syndra retrieved a tiny scroll that unrolled to reveal a massive map of Chult. Much of it was blank, but the edges of the island were carefully labeled.
Clearly, Ororo had something to say, so Syndra waved a hand and allowed him to speak again.
“That thing is huge and I’m not carrying it,” he immediately complained.
“Don’t worry,” Syndra assured them all. “It is a magical item, and when folded properly, this map will easily fit in your pocket and weigh nearly nothing.”
Ororo was impressed. “So it’s like one of those bag things? The ones that hold all the stuff?”
“A bit like that, yes. Now, pay attention. This is Port Nyanzaru.” She pointed to the corresponding point on the map. “When we have concluded our business here, I will teleport us all to Port Nyanzaru, and that is where I will stay. You can find me in the estate of Wakanga O’tamu. He is one of the merchant princes of the city, and he is a good friend. As for the rest of the map,” she continues, gesturing to the large, open areas, “nobody knows much about the jungle of Chult. I have taken great pains to create the most accurate and detailed map of Chult in existence, and everything that is known of the island is recorded here. The Soulmonger is somewhere in this jungle. It must be destroyed.”
Next, Syndra reached into her folds of blanket and produced a small bag. From it, she withdrew a small magical orb. She handed it to Rosalie. “This orb will bind us together in a pact. You will do all that you can, as quickly as you can, to find and destroy the Soulmonger. In return, each person who enters into this agreement may receive a boon from me.”
Ororo wrinkled his nose and raised his hand. “Hey, excuse me,” he piped up. “What the fuck is a boon?”
“It is a magical gift,” Syndra explained simply.
“What do I do?” Rose asked before Ororo could continue.
Syndra nodded to the orb. “Hold the orb and repeat these words: I swear to do all I can, as quickly as I can, to destroy the Soulmonger.”
Rosalie did, and the orb flashed with a quick magical glow. The warlock did not have any particular objections to swearing her loyalty in exchange for magical gifts. As Ororo was the nearest to her, she handed him the orb next. “Don’t break it,” she warned.
Ororo rolled his rabbit eyes and clutched the orb, pretending to nearly drop it, which almost made him actually drop it. He uttered his oath quickly, watched the flash with curiosity, and tossed the little sphere to Kitayne, who caught it deftly. No longer paying close attention, he grabbed another bottle of wine and chugged the entire thing. It was the best wine he had ever tasted, and Ororo has had some very fine wine indeed.
Kitayne was more cautious than her companions. She examined the orb, then looked over at Ororo and Rose to detect any changes in their appearance. “What exactly are these boons?” she asked Syndra. “Is it anything I want?”
“Your boon will either be an item from my personal collection of magical artifacts, or you may take a magical feat to strengthen yourself,” Syndra replied.
“And what if I want information?” Kitayne pushed.
“You may have it, one way or another. Swear, and I will answer all you ask to the best of my abilities. It need not replace your boon.”
Satisfied, Kitayne swore on the orb and passed it gently to Dara.
Dara took a moment to admire the beautiful magical object, commenting quietly that she really likes magical things.
“I do, too,” Syndra said, warmly.
“About this information,” Dara asked, “you’ll tell us now, or do we have to actually destroy this Soulmonger thing before you answer anything?”
“I will share any information I have as soon as you swear. You won’t have to wait,” Syndra promised.
Dara was also satisfied, and she swore her oath on the orb and gave it back to Syndra.
Syndra slipped the orb back into its pouch, careful not to touch it with her skin. The adventurers could now see that she wore the pouch on a leather strap around her neck. With another wave of her hand, Syndra unlocked a vault door concealed behind a map shelf. The door swung open to reveal 10 powerful magical items. “You may choose one of these to take, or, if you prefer, strengthen yourself with a magical feat. If that is your choice, simply lay your hand on the book here,” she gestured, “and speak the name of your chosen feat.”
While the others perused the collection of items and explored the book of feats, Rose took the opportunity to speak to Syndra herself.
“You offered information. I wonder if you would share some with me. What do you know of a man called Artus Cimber?” she asked quietly.
“Ah, yes, Artus Cimber,” Syndra answers. “You may find him on Chult if you’re looking for him, though he is notoriously hard to find. He is quite an ordinary looking man, human by appearance, but I have my doubts that he is all he appears to be. Last time I saw him, he was quite well equipped for jungle living, and indeed he has escaped capture for quite some time. He is a wanted man, you see, and there is something more about him that I can’t quite place. I am an accomplished seer, you know, and somehow I am unable to scry Artus Cimber directly. I have tried. There is some kind of magical protection, perhaps a powerful artifact, protecting him from my sight. I wish I could tell you more, but I have only suspicions and whispers, and those I will not share if I cannot be sure of the truth.”
Rose nodded graciously. “Thank you. That is helpful enough.” She returned to the choice of artifacts with her companions.
Soon, Dara satisfied herself with her selection of a feat and approached Syndra for answers to her own questions. “Madame Syndra, I’d like that information now, if I may.”
“Of course,” the mage agreed.
“Have you heard of the Game of Gods?” Dara asked hopefully.
“Yes, of course, your quest from your lord Zeus. I am familiar with your Game of Gods.” Slowly, Syndra recited:
The Heart of a dragon, forcefully riven.
The Blood of a King, secretly taken.
The Soul of a friend, from a prison broken.
The Sphere of annihilation, its control stolen.
The Egg of Aremag, radiant and unopened.
When finished, she studied Dara’s bright face. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
Dara nodded excitedly. “Yes, that’s it. Can you tell me where to find these things?”
The others had selected their boons and now listened curiously to this conversation. Syndra turned to address them all as she answered. “The Game of Gods is not from our plane of existence, you know. It is the Soulmonger that has done this, caused the planes to shift and intersect so that our worlds are muddied. You must know, my dear, that your lord Zeus is not a god of our own Faerûn.”
Dara nodded knowingly.
“The intersection of our world is causing strange and powerful magic. Be wary. Now, in regards to your Game of Gods,” Syndra held up a hand and ticked off items on her fingers as she spoke, “The dragon heart, the king’s blood, and the friend’s soul are more about the gathering than the actual item itself. You must rip the heart from a dragon’s chest, you see, but it doesn’t matter which dragon. As for the other two, your journey will take you to Chult. Aremag is there in the bay. He is a dragon turtle, about the size of two ships, who extracts treasure from every ship that sails through the Bay of Chult. He is not popular, but nobody has ever been able to defeat him or put a stop to his plundering.”
The mention of a dragon turtle catches Ororo’s attention. “And what the hell is that? A dragon turtle?” he demanded.
Kitayne answered him instead of Syndra. “I suppose it’s exactly what it sounds like, bunny man. It’s a huge turtle that looks and acts like a dragon, right?”
“I have a name,” Ororo chuffed irritably.
Syndra ignored this exchange and continued her explanation. “I know that Aremag keeps his treasure in an underwater cave. If he has an egg, it may be there. Many have tried to reach Aremag’s drowned treasure trove, but none have ever returned from the expedition. However, dragon turtles have lairs, and those lairs are usually dry. I do not know anything about an egg, specifically, but I am certain that all of the dragon turtle’s treasure can be found within Chult.”
The adventurers, especially Dara, pondered this for a quiet moment.
Syndra allowed them the time to reflect, then she broke the silence with more information. “As for a Sphere of Annihilation, I sincerely hope that you do not meet one of those during your travels. A Sphere of Annihilation is dreadfully powerful, and, to my knowledge, there have only ever been two made. It is a world-ending, terrible magical item, and it could easily destroy you all. Although,” she paused thoughtfully, “it would explain much if there was such an artifact on Chult.”
If he had been paying attention, he would have made some kind of comment about the Sphere of Annihilation, but Ororo’s attention was on his lute again. He was plucking dolefully, mumbling lyrics, apparently making up a song about dragon turtles.
“Excuse me, miss Syndra. I’m ready to ask a few questions now, too,” Kitayne cut in politely. When the mage indicated for her to continue, she straightened. Her cheerful and open nature hardened, and her face betrayed a depth of pain and determination of which she did not seem capable. “Where is Hentar Zhibo? He has something of mine, and I will have it back.”
“Hentar Zhibo is a Zhentarim agent. I cannot tell you his precise location right now, but I can tell you that the Zhentarim are active on Chult in great numbers. The merchant princes have hired the Zhentarim to protect Port Nyanzaru from the hoards of roving undead on the island. You will have many opportunities to seek your Hentar Zhibo while you are on the island,” said Syndra.
Kitayne, still tight with suppressed rage, asked another question. “The Zhentarim are in the employ of the merchant princes, then. How will those princes react if – when – I kill one of their agents?”
Syndra showed no sign of emotion in her response. “I suppose that they would probably be…unhappy.”
“That’s too bad, isn’t it?” Kitayne quipped.
Suddenly, Ororo’s attention snapped back to the conversation. Apparently, he was done with his song for the moment. He bounced on his heels and excitedly flung his hand in the air again. “Oh, oh, I have another question!”
“Speak, harengon,” Syndra invited.
“You’re like dead, right? Does that mean your skin falls off and stuff? Does it hurt? I bet it hurts,” he chattered.
“Oi, bunny man, you can’t ask questions like that!” Dara exclaimed.
“That is rather rude,” Kitayne admitted.
Rose only shot him a prim glare.
Syndra didn’t seem to mind the question, though. “Yes, in fact, my skin is showing some, ah, decay. And, yes, it does hurt quite a bit.”
Ororo looked abashed. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologized, much to the surprise of the other adventurers.
“Well, are we ready to go?” Rosalie prompted.
“Can I have that whiskey now?” Ororo asked loudly.
Syndra was beginning to like this harengon despite herself. “I do not have whiskey, Ororo, but I have something better. Have you ever tried a Flamestrider’s Fury?”
“That sounds amazing!” Ororo cheered.
After preparing the shot, which seemed to contain the claw of a dragon fizzing in the bottom of the glass, Syndra pointed her finger and the glass erupted in flame. Ororo downed it enthusiastically and licked his lips in appreciation. Unfortunately, this bit of alcohol was the last straw for his constitution – he tried to hop in excitement, but found it impossible to stay on his feet. He was far too drunk to function.
“Now that we will have a bit of quiet again, I must tell you that there is a good reason that all of you have been brought together to do this difficult job.” Syndra waited until all, except Ororo, of course, were watching her attentively. “I have already told you that I am quite a gifted seer. I spent many long hours in scrying and spells, and Savras has revealed to me some small secrets of fate. Each of you is bound to Chult. Your fates are tied to the destruction of the Soulmonger. I’m not certain how or why for all of you, but the connection is clear. I can only hope that the string of your fate will be enough to carry you through the dangers of Chult to be the people who finally destroy the Soulmonger.”
“Have others tried?” Kitayne asked.
Reluctantly, Syndra answered. “I have sent other parties before you, but I have had no word of them since they entered the jungle. The jungles are quite deadly. You should hire a guide if you want to survive. Choose wisely, as not all guides are equally competent.”
“Do you have any suggestions for a good guide?” Kitayne continued, pushing for more valuable information.
“There are many guides,” Syndra told them. “I do not know them personally, only by reputation. Start by looking at the advertisements. I have heard rumors, but I will not share them with you. Fate has dictated that you must make this choice yourself, and I may not influence you. If I try, it may go…poorly.”
Ororo snored loudly from the floor. He was passed out.
“Well, then, are you ready to go?” Syndra invited.
The group agreed that they were all ready to depart. Rosalie grabbed Ororo’s foot and tried to drag him, but was unable to move his surprising weight. Kitayne lifted Ororo by the scruff of the neck and gestured for the others to go ahead. Syndra led them to an attached terrace that overlooked a sweeping view of Baldur’s Gate. There was no time to admire the scenery, though. As soon as they stepped into the teleportation circle, Syndra uttered a magic word and they were yanked out of that plane of existence, then just as forcefully jerked back into it at Port Nyanzaru.
They arrived in the harbor ward. It was now late afternoon, and the air was hot and humid. The group stood on a large dock surrounded by many ships, including a beautiful ship with the words “Brazen Pegasus” stenciled in gold on her prow. Some ships sat nearby in dry dock, and the whole place bustled with activity.
Chultans were a colorfully dressed people, all wearing breezy items in the style of people who deal with a lot of heat. Clothes were loose and billowy, and head wraps and shading hats were popular. The accents were tropical and almost musical. Drums sounded in the distance.
Syndra handed out bags with 50 gold pieces in each, tucking Ororo’s into his belt as he was still quite unconscious. “Here is something to help you get started and hire a guide. You may need to pool your funds – do so if you must. You may find me with Wakanga O’tamu if you need me. If you need more money, though, make it yourself. There are always jobs on the job boards, and you might try your hand fighting in the arena or dinosaur racing or something. Good luck.” Before they could ask her any more, she uttered the magic word again, which they still failed to hear in the rush of the teleportation spell. With that, she was gone and they were left on the dock.
“Well, I think we should go find a guide,” Dara recommended. “We’ve got to deal with the bunny first, though.”
Ororo was curled up on the dock, mumbling nonsense in his sleep.
Kitayne looked down at him pityingly. “I can carry him for now, but I don’t want to be wandering all over the city with him.” Her armor and clothes were already getting hot.
“Hold on a second,” said Rosalie. She flashed a winning smile at the nearest sailor, who grinned back lewdly. “Hey, honey, where can I find a good pub or an inn in this city?”
“You can stay at my place if you want,” the sailor flirted.
Rosalie fought down her disgust and maintained her sweet expression. “You’re too kind. A pub or an inn, please?”
“That depends on if you want to sleep or drink, I guess. I’d head to the Thundering Lizard for the best place to get a drink and a meal. If you want a good night of sleep, head to Kaya’s House of Repose. They’re both in the red district.” The man looked her up and down. “But if…”
“Thank you, sir,” Rosalie cut him off and returned to her companions to share the information.
“A drink sounds great,” Kitayne says, tugging at her collar. “It’s awfully hot.”
“And a pub is a good place to get information,” Dara agreed.
With the destination in mind, the companions set out towards the Thundering Lizard. Syndra’s map turned out to be quite useful in navigating the city – it was detailed and easy to understand.
As the group traveled the streets, they noticed that large dinosaurs were used as beasts of burden here. They spotted many large dinos like triceratops hauling carts, halflings riding raptors, and there were even hawkers shouting about dinosaur racing.
“Dinosaur racing,” Dara mused. “Just imagine it! I never knew there were such things in the world. I’d like to see that.”
“Me, too,” Kitayne agreed, panting a little at the effort of hauling Ororo in the heat.
Rosalie waved prettily at a hawker who was shouting about the races. “Where can we see one?” she called over the street noise.
“Just head to Executioner’s Run in the old city. Follow this road you’re on and then turn south. You’ll go past the Grand Souk Market,” he shouted back.
“What’s the Grand Souk Market?” Rose wanted to know.
The hawker laughed, showing gleaming white teeth in his dark face. “It’s the biggest market in the city, and one of the three main places where people meet, you know. Anything you ever want, you’ll find it there. You’re new in town, yeah?”
Rosalie smiled and agreed that they were new in town. She confirmed directions to the Thundering Lizard while she had the man’s attention, and then proceeded on the way to their final destination.
They knew they reached the Red Bazaar when all the roofs around them were painted various shades of red. The streets here were washed with blood, and the vendors seemed to sell every kind of dinosaur meat they could imagine. Even with the rivulets of blood in the gutters, though, it was clear that this part of the city got a lot of rainfall. The rain-washed streets and walls were one hint, but it seemed like the locals made good use of all that water. There were rain barrels, water wheels, and brightly colored umbrellas and coverings everywhere they looked.
It was unfortunately quite sunny as they passed through this part of town. Dara and Rosalie stripped off their traveling cloaks, but their paladin friend was in armor. Kitayne would have dearly appreciated at least a sprinkle to cool her off. Sweat poured down her face, and she began to find it hard to speak. “Need – a – drink,” she panted to her companions. “Cold – one.”
“Take a second and have a sip from your water skin, then,” Rose offered. “I’ll make sure we’re on the right track.”
Kitayne gratefully put Ororo down on the street and took a long swig from her canteen. She was even more relieved when Rose returned and reported that the Thundering Lizard was just around the corner.
As they approached the Thundering Lizard, it sounded like there was a raucous party going on inside. They could hear voices, music, crashing noises, thumping – it seemed like it was going to be a good time.
The sounds were a fitting introduction. As they entered, they could immediately see that there was some betting going on in the corner, dice games at tables, and live music on a small stage. Barmaids carried stacks of drinks on their elaborate headdresses, bare legs showing all the way up to the hip. The place was a bit of a dive, but it was also clean and full of sturdy, working-class people. More importantly, it was cool and comfortable.
Though it was pretty full inside, they found a table and began to settle in. The cool air and sounds of merriment finally woke Ororo, and Kitayne was grateful to be able to put him down.
“I’ll have another whiskey!” Ororo shouted to no one in particular.
“No, you won’t!” all three of his companions argued back. “You’ll have water!”
“Meanwhile, I’ll have anything cold,” Kitayne added, wiping sweat from her face.
Ororo was quickly regaining his pep. “Hey! Barkeep! Whiskey!” he called again, reaching down to his belt. He was quite surprised to find an extra pouch there, and even more surprised when he realized that it had 50 gold pieces in it. “Where did this come from?” he asked.
In the hubbub of trying to prevent Ororo from drinking even more, the party didn’t bother answering his question.
A tall, leggy barmaid with smooth, dark skin sidled up to the table. “Afternoon,” she greeted them. “I’m Terina. What can I get for everyone?”
“Something cold, please,” Kitayne begged.
“Whiskey!” Ororo repeated.
“He’ll have water,” Rosalie said imperiously, shooting a scathing look at the rabbit man.
Terina grinned, obviously used to a rowdy crowd. “We dun have whiskey or water here, and the drinks are cool, but we dun have ice, either. Hard to come by on the island,” she replied. Her gaze landed on Ororo’s lute and she gestured to him. “Do you play that thing? We always need performers here. It’s good to have some variety for the entertainment.”
“Yeah, of course I play. Can you pay me in whiskey?” Ororo quipped.
“No ice? That makes sense,” Dara agreed amiably, ostentatiously ignoring Ororo’s commentary. “Do you have milk or something for our friend here? He’s had plenty to drink already.”
“Don’t order for me. You’re not my mom, are you?” Ororo snapped.
“Milk?” Terina scoffed. “Does this look like the kind of place that serves milk? We only serve local brews here. You can have an ale, or beer, and we’ve got a little wine, but most people order tej.”
“Tej is fine,” Kitayne said desperately. “As long as it’s quick. I’m dying of thirst.”
“I’ll have one of those, too,” Dara chimed in.
Rosalie nodded. “One for me, as well.”
“Tej all around!” Ororo agreed. Weary, nobody tried to stop him.
“I’ll be quick,” Terina promised with a nod at Kitayne. She was as good as her word, too. Quick as a flash, she returned with four bubbly tankards.
The tej was served in strange, tall tankards that looked to be made of dinosaur bone. It was slightly honeyed, cool, and pleasantly effervescent. Everyone except Rosalie enjoyed their first sips – she simply sat with her glass in front of her, not drinking, studying the bar patrons.
“That’ll be four copper a piece,” Terina said with another broad smile.
“I’ve only got gold pieces,” Ororo complained obtusely.
“Oh, that’s not a problem at all,” Terina replied. “I can make change and bring you back the difference after your drink and your tip.” She winked flirtatiously.
Unwisely, Ororo muttered a spell under his breath. “Chairdean,” he murmured, touching his face while looking at the barmaid. “How about a discount?” he requested slyly. “Half price?”
Terina easily fell under the spell’s influence. “Oh, sure, that’s fine. I’ll bring back your change,” she agreed automatically.
Dara glared at Ororo. “We could have just paid for the drinks. She might have even given us a discount if we just sweet-talked her a little bit. Ya dinna have to do that.”
Ororo swigged his tej and smacked his lips in appreciation. “Drink your tej,” he said dismissively. The musicians on stage caught his eye, and Ororo began to finger his lute longingly.
Meanwhile, Rose had been studying the bar patrons. Her target chosen, she slipped away from the table and sidled up to a man who looked just a little too drunk and a little too lonely. The tankard of tej sloshed invitingly as she plopped it down in front of him.
“Hi,” she flirted. “I’m new in town and I could really use a friend. Consider this a friendship offering.”
He looks down at the tej and then back up at her. Sloppily, he licked his lips. “Yeah, I’ll be your friend.”
Rosalie suppressed a shudder. Outwardly, her appearance gave away none of her disgust. “I just want to ask a few questions to help me get acclimated. Is that okay?” she continued.
“Mmm, yeah,” he agreed eagerly.
“I’m looking for a guide to get me through the jungle. I don’t want just any guide, either. How would I find the best one?” Rosalie asked.
“I know a guide. His name is Musharib, and I guess he’s good. I haven’t ever been in the jungle, though. If I was looking for a guide, I’d look at the job board down the road. They’re pretty expensive, though. Five gold a day is the usual price, and they want a lot of that upfront,” the man rambled.
“Musharib is probably good, you say? Would you trust him with your life?”
The man appeared to think about it, pondering through his tej haze. “Yeah, I s’pose I would.”
Rosalie twirled a strand of hair between her fingers. “Thanks, new friend. You’re being really helpful. I’ve just got one more question for you.”
“Aw, just one? You can talk to me all night if you want,” he chuckled, swigging more of the free tej.
“I’ve got places to be tonight. Here’s my last question. If I wanted to find someone from the Harper’s Guild, who would I ask?” she said smoothly.
Suddenly, the man’s face hardened. “I don’t know anything about any Harpers. Maybe you should ask someone else.”
Knowing when to quit, Rose thanked him warmly and moved back to the table just in time to see the bouncers approaching.
Ororo only noticed the two burly brutes when they each clamped a meaty hand on one of his shoulders. “Hey, what’s this?” he demanded.
“That’s the one!” Terina said, pointing at Ororo. “He magicked me!”
“I did not,” Ororo denied, but his protests weren’t convincing.
Terina’s eyes narrowed, and the two brutes began to clamp down harder on his furry shoulders. “I know when I’ve been magicked, and you did magic. We’ve got bards up on that stage right now. I know what you can do. Now, you’ll pay full price for those drinks and add in a generous tip, or we’re going to have bigger problems.”
Ororo shook his head. “I didn’t magic you! Okay, I wanted a better price on the drinks, maybe, but I only tried to make you a little more friendly,” he said, squirming.
“Come on, look at him,” Dara tried to soothe. “He’s just a little bunny man. I’m sure we can clear up this misunderstanding.” She shot a warning look at Ororo, who was growing angrier every second.
“We can clear it up. You just need to pay for your drinks and make up for my trouble,” Terina said sharply.
Ororo dug in his coin pouch – his own pouch, not the mysterious new one – and withdrew some coins. “Okay, fine. Will five gold clear things up?”
Alarmed, his new friends tried to wave Ororo down, but it was too late.
“Oh, yea, I should say so. Thank you kindly, my lord.” Terina held out her hand and collected the five gold pieces before anyone had a chance to change Ororo’s mind. She gave one piece to each of the bouncers for their trouble. Sidling away, she swished her skirts flirtatiously at Ororo. “Let me know if you need any more drinks, friend.”
“Why did you do that?” Dara demanded hotly. “We don’t have that kind of money!”
Ororo shook his coin pouch in her face. “It was my own money, anyway, and why are you so mad about it? It was just a little tip.”
“FIVE GOLD was a little tip? You paid for our drinks 100 times over!” Dara argued.
“A hundred times? I gave her five…oh, five gold! That was way too much,” Ororo said. “Why didn’t you stop me?”
“If you’re all done with that,” Rose cut in haughtily, sliding back into her chair now that the bouncers were gone, “I’ve learned some things about guides. We can expect to pay five gold per day and will most likely have to pay for a month upfront. We should check the job board to see who’s available.”
At the mention of guides costing five gold per day, Dara and Kitayne both shot dirty looks at Ororo. He didn’t notice. Once again, he was strumming his lute, mumbling under his breath.
Discussion about the guides continued, but Ororo’s boredom got the better of him. He walked away from the table, feeling that a group of angry women wasn’t good company in any case, and found himself wandering towards the stage. The current performers were fine, he supposed, but they definitely lacked his style. He walked onto the stage and took his place at the center, blocking the musicians, and he began to strum loudly in an attempt to drown them out.
Terina saw this from the bar. Curious, she made a motion to the existing performers. They stopped playing and left the stage, all the while shooting glares and bitter scowls at Ororo.
Now that the stage was his, Ororo was in his element. He played a song about the Flamestrider’s Fury, strumming and singing with all his considerable charm. The bar patrons were entranced. At the end, they cheered and called for an encore to this strange and amusing act. His second song was not quite as impressive, but he made up for it with a third performance that inspired hoots and cheers from the enraptured crowd. At the end, he bowed deeply and held out his hands expectantly. “Tips are appreciated,” he nudged when few people took the hint.
By the time the other performers came back on stage, Ororo had collected 4 gold pieces and 44 silver. His traveling companions forgave him a little for his earlier gaff. And, besides, Terina is being friendlier than ever.
Once Ororo returned to the table, the group decided to walk down to the job board to see the postings. The sun’s beginning to sink, and though the weather was only slightly cooler than it was when they came into town, they felt energized. The tej and the rest were refreshing, and even Kitayne in her armor was up to the walk.
The adventurers carefully discussed the postings on the job board and noticed that a guide named Salida specifically mentioned several other guides in her posting, deriding their capabilities and insulting their competence. Some of the others that she mentioned seemed like viable options for the group, so they decided to talk to Salida and get a feel for her trustworthiness.
Barely paying attention, Ororo looked up at the cloudless sky. “Shouldn’t we buy some more weather-appropriate clothes? The question was wise, but the timing was poor. Everyone ignored him.
They found Salida at Kaya’s House of Repose, the inn recommended by the sailor on the dock. Afterwards, they agreed, they would return to the Thundering Lizard and look for Azaka Storming.
Kaya’s House of Repose was the opposite of the Thundering Lizard in atmosphere and appearance. It was quiet, classy, and spotlessly clean. They entered a pristine foyer where an attendant stood at an organized desk, no doubt keeping meticulous records of comings and goings. To one side there was a dining area where all types of people quietly enjoyed fine looking meals.
Rosalie approached the desk. “Good evening. We are here to see Salida. Is she in?”
The attendant checked her record book. “Yes, I believe she is. Who can I tell her is calling?”
“I am Rosalie Montilyet. I am seeking the services of a competent guide,” she replied smoothly.
“Ah, yes, of course. One moment, please,” the attendant said, turning to signal some sort of magical chime system behind her.
Ororo spotted a handbell at the front of the organized desk. It was clearly there to summon the attendant when she stepped away, but Ororo was simply unable to resist the temptation. He leapt onto the desk, hands and feet planted among the once-organized papers, and began to slam a hand down onto the ringing mechanism again and again.
Rosalie watched in horror.
The attendant turned to glare at Ororo. “Get. Down,” she demanded, barely containing her rage.
Abashed, Ororo slid off the desk, letting his feet drop first. His body pulled with it a stack of papers that fluttered to the ground.
Next, the attendant turned her angry stare to Rosalie. “We do not allow pets at Kaya’s House of Repose,” she said snidely.
Despite herself, Rose was just as offended as Ororo. “He may be dumb, but he’s not an animal,” she snapped.
Dara put a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “We’re sorry for our friend’s behavior. He has trouble with impulse control,” she apologized. Then, more sharply, she addressed the harengon. “Ororo, why don’t you wait outside?”
Ororo thrust his twitching nose into the air and marched outside. They could hear him playing nonsense on a flute. Until then, they didn’t realize he had a flute. It was much more annoying than the lute.
They were saved from further awkwardness by Salida’s appearance. She slinked down the stairs to greet them professionally, not quite friendly, but welcoming enough. Her appearance was everything they expected. She was an average height human, very fit, and looked every bit the part of an experienced jungle explorer. A few scaly patches of skin peeked out from under her clothing, but as a guide to the jungles of Chult, some injuries were to be expected.
“Hello,” she greeted them. “I am Salida. I hear you are looking for a guide.”
They agreed that they were.
“I know things about the Chultan jungle that nobody else knows,” she said, not quite bragging.
Kitayne cocked her head. “Like what?”
“Oh, ways and paths,” Salida answered vaguely. “How to get you through the jungle faster and safer. These are things a good guide should know.”
“Speaking of the things you know,” Rose prompted, “we’re looking for some kind of artifact in the jungle. Do you know anything about a – something – that might be affecting the dead or the resurrected dead?”
Salida’s head twitched with interest. “What a very strange question. I know of a ruined city called M’bala, which is the home of the terrible Nani Pupu. Nani Pupu is a powerful necromancer. If you are looking for information on the dead or the not dead yet, that is where I would go.”
Her words rang with truth. Encouraged, the adventurers continued their questioning.
“How do you know so much about the other guides? You mention a lot of them in your ad,” Kitayne asked.
“I pay attention,” came Salida’s quick answer. “I am very experienced as a guide, and I have lived around the jungle for a very, very long time.”
“But you say that River Mist owes money to the Zhentarim,” Kitayne continued to question. “How would you know that?”
Salida’s face showed some reluctance, but she answered nonetheless. “I…might have some contacts in the Zhentarim myself.”
Outside, Ororo grew bored with waiting. He scrabbled up onto the first level of decorative roof, then seated himself with his feet dangling over the edge. His flute playing grew even louder. This still was not enough to stave off boredom, so he scooted to the edge and tried to peer inside. “Hey!” he shouted. “Are you almost done in there? I need another drink!”
From inside, the adventurers could barely hear Ororo, nor could they quite make out what he was saying. They did notice that the bar matron scowled in that direction, though, and she did something behind the counter that they couldn’t see.
“What about Azaka and Eku? You say that they’ve lose parties in the jungle,” Dara prompted, trying hard to ignore Ororo’s antics.
“Ask anyone in Chult and they can tell you the same information,” Salida said with a shrug. “It’s common knowledge that neither of them are competent. But I’ll tell you something you won’t hear out and about in Port Nyanzaru.” She glanced around, making sure that nobody was nearby to overhear. “I wouldn’t want to be around Azaka on a full moon.”
Nobody in the group knew quite what that meant, and they weren’t certain they could trust the information, anyway. They pressed on.
Rose spoke up next. “Just one last question, if you don’t mind.”
Salida nodded for her to continue.
“What about Qawasha? Do you know much about him?”
“Oh, I’m only familiar with Qawasha in passing, but I know he travels around with that vegepygmy, Kupalué. It’s really unusual. Most of those vegepygmies are feral and quite vicious. Personally, I wouldn’t trust one, even if it is an unusual creature,” she offered. Pondering the question for a second, she held up her hand as if asking permission to add more. “Qawasha is a druid, you know. Some people think that’s an advantage, but I disagree. In my experience, druids are a lot more interested in protecting the jungle than they are about protecting the people in it.”
Thoughtfully, the adventurers nodded. This was something they had not considered before.
“Well, thank you for talking with us, Salida,” Rose said graciously. “We want to talk to a couple more guides before we make a decision. If we decide to hire you, we can find you here?”
Salida nodded. “Yes, and just leave a message for me if I’m out.” The woman bowed her head graciously and retreated up the stairs, moving with a strange smoothness.
As the party moved towards the door, Rose commented quietly, “You know, there have been times in my life when I was as negative as Salida. Every time, it was because I wasn’t confident in my abilities, so I had to disparage everyone else. It’s something to think about.”
They all paused to continue their discussion just inside the door where they could enjoy the cool air a little longer, but keep their voices low.
Meanwhile, Ororo has found himself in a slippery situation – literally. The barkeep activated some sort of magic sprinkler system and soaked both Ororo and the roof around him. He was stuck on the slippery slope, but at least he stopped playing his flute.
“I don’t know,” said Kitayne thoughtfully. “I thought she seemed very honest and I trust that what she told us is true. At the same time, I get the feeling that she’s not telling us something very important.”
“But what about Azaka and full moons? What does that mean? We’re going to talk to Azaka next, and I’m not sure I feel safe doing it,” Dara commented.
Rose shook her head. “I don’t know about full moons, but I do know that Salida’s comments about Azaka don’t sound as bad as she’s trying to make them out to be. I’d like to ask her about it in person.”
“I agree. I think we should still talk to Azaka,” Kitayne chimed in. “But what do you think about the druid and the vegepygmy?”
For a few moments, the group discussed the potential merits and drawbacks of hiring a druid and a vegepygmy as jungle guides. They’re still torn at the end of the conversation. Eventually, they agreed that the wisest thing to do was to return to the Thundering Lizard, talk to Azaka Storming, and make a decision from there.
When they appeared outside, Ororo was trying to decide whether or not he would jump off the roof. Climbing down seemed safer, but it was equally as slippery and treacherous. Jumping was quite a distance, though, and a stumble could hurt him badly.
“We’re going back to the pub, Ororo,” Dara called up. “Are you coming or not?”
At that, Ororo decided to jump, and he stuck the landing impressively. He returned to his friends and fluffed his fur importantly. “Let’s go,” he agreed.
On the way, Rose turned to Ororo. “By the way, do you know anything about Chultan creatures that might be more dangerous around the full moon?”
“No, why?” Ororo replied.
Rose frowned. “No reason.”
Outside the door of the Thundering Lizard, Kitayne heaved a deep sigh. “Hey, Ororo, I’ll buy you a drink if you manage to behave for a little while,” she offered.
“I always behave,” Ororo shot back. There was no deal made.
The bouncers recognized Ororo immediately and greeted him warmly. Terina flashed them all a broad smile from the bar. Happily, Ororo headed to the bar and offered to buy the first round. Terina only managed to bully him out of two silver this time, but she was still happy with the tip.
They asked about Azaka and were pointed to a woman at the end of the bar, enjoying a drink alone. Before they approached, Rose went outside to look at the moon. It was a waxing half. She came back in and addressed the others.
“Do you think we should ask Azaka about the moon thing? Will she be mad?” Rose whispered.
“Salida might be mad, but I don’t really care,” Kitayne answered.
Satisfied, Rose offered up her tankard of tej as soon as they approached Azaka.
“Thanks, stranger. What is this for?” Azaka asked warily.
“We saw your job posting. We’re looking for a guide, and we want to have a chat if you have the time,” Rose replied.
Azaka warmed immediately. “Oh, of course. Chat away.”
“We’ve heard some rumors,” Dara began, “and we’d like to get your take on them. What can you tell us about reports of a missing expedition?”
“Oh, that,” Azaka sighed. “Almost all of my expeditions have been successful, you know. It was only the most recent one that was a tragedy. We ran foul of the Pterafolk, and I lost my party and a precious family heirloom. It was a carved wooden tiger mask, something I got from my mother. Been in my family for generations. I sorely want it back.” She trailed off for a second, then shook her head and picked back up on the story.
“Anyway, it wasn’t all my fault. The caravan I was guiding wouldn’t take my advice. I wanted to avoid the Firefingers, for the Pterafolk are a vicious and dangerous people. They swoop down from the sky and just snatch people away. I always give them a wide berth, but the caravan leader insisted on taking a shortcut around the edge of Firefinger territory. It was too close. We lost everything. Everything of value, anyway. Not everyone died, but only a couple of us made it out. A few are still being held prisoner now as far as I know. A tragedy.”
Based on their keen insights, the party members believed that Azaka was telling them the whole truth about the situation. They felt that she was sincere, sorry, and only partially to blame.
“We have another concern,” Rose said slowly. “We talked to Salida, and she said something about you that makes us wonder.”
“Oh, Salida, that snake,”Azaka hissed. “What did she say?”
“Wait, are you saying that Salida is, like, an actual snake? Or is that just a figure of speech?” Ororo asked eagerly.
Azaka raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you see the patches on her skin?”
The party paused to consider that.
“I don’t trust Salida. There’s something about her motivations that just seems evil to me. Of course, she would probably say the same about me, so who are you going to trust? Anyway, tell me what she said and I’ll tell you the truth of it,” Azaka promised.
Rose took a deep breath. “She didn’t say anything outright. She just hinted that you would be dangerous around a full moon.”
Azaka nodded slowly. “I observe a religious rite that’s very important to me. I must be alone and indoors during full moons. It’s a very personal thing.”
“What if you’re in the jungle? You can’t be indoors then,” Kitayne wanted to know.
“I go off on my own and leave you at camp for a couple of days. Those are rest days for you and I keep my religious practices private. Besides,” she added sincerely, “the jungle is very dangerous and very exhausting. Most people need time to rest anyway, and I always get you set up somewhere safe away from the dinosaurs, animals, and undead before I observe my rituals.”
“Are the undead bad?” Dara wondered aloud.
Azaka took a drink of the offered tej before answering. “That’s a bit of an understatement. There are absolute armies of undead in the jungles of Chult.”
“And are their numbers increasing or decreasing?” Rose asked with intent curiosity.
“That’s an interesting question. I don’t know for sure, but there sure are a lot of undead. Why do you ask?” Azaka stared at Rose, waiting eagerly for an answer.
“We’re looking for an artifact,” Rose began, but Ororo interrupted loudly.
“Hey, whoa, we don’t know this person!” he interjected. “Maybe we don’t just go around telling strangers about everything?”
Azaka fixed her sharp gaze on Ororo, and he cowered back. “Hey, you’re scary,” he muttered. She did not break her stare, and Ororo eventually backed down and stepped away. “Do what you want,” he mumbled as he edged back towards the other side of the bar.
“Look, I’ll just ask, okay? Have you heard about any kind of artifact that is killing the resurrected? That’s what we’re looking for,” Dara blurted.
Azaka leaned back on her stool. “I haven’t heard of anything like that, but I do know that there’s a city called Omu. It’s positively infested with Yuan’ti, and it’s famous for being the home of evil things. It’s not much more than a ruin now, but if you’ve got some kind of evil artifact in mind, I’d think that’s a likely place to look.”
“What about M’balla?” Kitayne asked. “Are you familiar with it?”
“I am, in a way,” Azaka replied.
“Do you know how to get there?” Rose wanted to know.
Azaka took another long swig of tej. “You want to go to M’balla? That’s a bad idea.”
“There’s a necromancer there -“ Rose began, but Azaka interrupted.
“Yes, Nani Pupu. She’s exactly the reason why you don’t want to go there.”
Nearby, Ororo couldn’t contain his laughter. “Nanny Poo Poo!” he chortled.
Azaka’s brows drew down, her face growing even more serious. “Nani Pupu is no joke. You really should avoid her at all costs. Even if she does have some information or artifact you seek, it is not worth it. Nani Pupu will steal your soul, or do even worse.”
“Steal your soul?” Dara repeated.
“That sounds exactly like what we’re looking for,” Kitayne added.
Rose stared back at Azaka. “Can you get us there?”
Azaka sighed. “Yes, but for a price. If you help me find my family’s mask, I will take you to M’balla and Nani Pupu.”
Satisfied, Rose began to turn away. “Thank you for your time, Azaka.”
Azaka lifted the tankard. “Thank you for the drink. Good luck.”
They sat themselves on the far side of the bar, keeping their voices low again.
“What do you think?” Rose asked.
“I think Azaka Stormfang is a weretiger,” Kitayne answered matter-of-factly.
Dara nodded in agreement.
“Okay, and is that a problem?” Rose continued.
“Not really,” said Dara.
Ororo’s eyes widened. “Yes, really!” he disagreed violently. “In case you haven’t noticed, tigers eat rabbits!”
“Aye, but you’re not a rabbit, are you?” Dara replied with a laugh. “You keep telling us that you’re not a wee bunny, don’t you?”
“The point still stands,” Ororo insisted.
Kitayne yawned. “We don’t have to make a decision today. Why don’t we get some sleep and discuss it more when we’ve had some rest?”
To this reasonable suggestion, they all agreed. They would pick up on the process of hiring a guide tomorrow.