Taban, The Dino Races, and Wakanga:

No matter which way Taban turned, the darkness followed him. He growled in frustration and took another swing at the women surrounding him, but it was fruitless.
“I can take your sight away forever, Taban. Say goodbye to your career as a gladiator. You’ll never fight, never watch another race, never see another beautiful woman in your life,” Rosalie taunted. She moved around him in the magical darkness through which only she could see, letting her message sink in.
Kitayne took a few steps back to get out of the sphere of darkness. Even though the sun was beginning to sink, the light was dazzling after being blinded by dark. She looked around at her other friends and signaled for them to wait.
Rosalie leaned in. “If you ever want to see again, you just have to pay your debt. If not, well, get used to the view, because this is all you’ll ever see again.”
Taban clenched his fists. “You can’t leave me like this!” he burst, panic beginning to creep into his voice.
Eirikr heard this exchange and realized that Taban’s iron will was finally beginning to bend. He took a couple of steps closer. The gladiator hadn’t seen him yet, so a new voice might just make him wonder how many friends Rosalie had outside of that blinding cloud.
“You can have your sight back, Taban. All you have to do is pay,” Eirikr called.
“What’s it going to be, Taban?” Rosalie demanded. “Pay your debt and be free, or say goodbye to your sight forever?”
“Fine, girly, you win,” Taban choked. “I’ll pay. Just give me back my eyes, damn you!”
Rosalie raised a hand to dispel her magic, but hesitated. “I’m restoring your sight now, but if you don’t pay, you’ll wake up tomorrow morning with no sight – and maybe with no house.” She made a sharp gesture and the darkness vanished.
Taban squinted in the sudden sunlight. He stared around, unsure of who was merely a spectator and who might be part of this little gang. There were a handful of people milling about, and more just inside the temple entrance. Bitterly, he reached into his purse and withdrew a small sack. He hefted it a couple of times before tossing it at Rose’s feet. “There,” he spat. “That should cover what I owe. Don’t let me ever see you again.”
With that, the dwarf stalked back into the temple, casting an angry look back over his shoulder.
Rose waited until he was out of sight before she bent to pick up the small bag. It was full of gems. She gestured for her companions to come along, meeting everyone a short distance from the temple.
“It looks like this really should cover his full debt. They’ve got to be worth 500 gold pieces,” Rosalie said, showing the bag of gleaming jewels around.
Randolph nodded. “If you can haggle, we might even get more for them.”
“So you want to sell them and get the cash, then? We could just give the gems directly to K’alahu,” Kitayne pointed out.
Rosalie considered it. “If we can get more than 500 gold for them, then we’ll keep the difference. If they’re worth less than 500 gold, we’ll give the money to K’alahu and still get 10%. It seemed like she was willing to settle for most of what he owed, anyway,” she calculated.
Eirikr held out his hand for the bag, and Rosalie passed it over.
“I know a thing or two about gems,” he said slowly, “and I’m certain that these are worth at least 500 gold. We might get more for them if we sell to the right person, but I definitely wouldn’t let them go for any less than 500 gold pieces.” He handed the pouch back to Rosalie, who tucked it away in her purse.
“Should we head to the market now?” Dara asked.
Randolph sighed. “It has been a long day. Maybe we should go find our bunny boy first,” he suggested.
“I don’t know about you all, but I could use a drink,” Kitayne chimed in. “And given Ororo’s habits, we’re probably more likely to find him at the bar than anywhere else.”
With that, they agreed to head back to the Thundering Lizard, at least for now.

While most of his adventure-mates were collecting from Taban, Ororo finished his impromptu concert at the Grand Souk Market and swept up his earnings. Glancing up at the sun, he realized that it had been hours since he last saw any of his friends.
“Oh, shit,” he mumbled as he gathered himself. “Got a little distracted again.” He hoped that his friends wouldn’t be too annoyed with him for his long absence, but figured that he might make up for it by gathering some supplies for their jungle expedition.
Ororo scrunched his furry nose and thought hard. The others were eager to get into the jungle, but it was he, the harengon, who was most concerned about making sure they were ready to brave the dangers they’d find there. He knew well that wild animals and undead monsters were the least of their worries — the needs for food, water, and shelter were much more pressing enemies.
When he was a young man, Ororo remembered one of his brothers having a magical flask that filled itself with water. No matter how much they drank or, more often, poured over each others’ heads, it was always full. Something like that would be just the ticket in Chult.
Well, this was the market where they sold everything, right?
“Hey, you!” Ororo called jovially to a nearby merchant.
The man looked up and held out a shining piece of pottery. “Very nice, yes?” he answered hopefully.
“Oh, no, I’m not doing that again. I’m not taking that damned pot. Can you just tell me where I can find an enchanter?” Ororo responded, putting his hands behind his back for emphasis.
Surprisingly, the gesture seemed to be exactly what the merchant expected. “You want Thu’fara, the arcanist,” the man suggested. He gave directions cheerfully, then went back to thrusting his pottery at passersby.
Thu’fara, it turned out, was a formidable looking half-orc with shockingly purple hair and a few prominent piercings. She was not as gruff as she looked, though, and greeted Ororo with open curiosity.
“How can I help you, small rabbit man?” she welcomed him.
“I’m looking for a couple of things,” Ororo told her, smiling charmingly. “First, do you have a flask that fills itself with water? Or maybe a bucket? I guess that would do.”
“A self-filling flask?” Thu’fara repeated.
“Yeah. It would be okay if it filled with wine or something, too, I guess, but water is what I want, really,” Ororo rambled his reply.
Thu’fara crossed her arms. “That’s a pretty powerful enchantment, you know. Not just anybody can make a flask fill itself with water. I can, of course, but it will be very expensive. Very time consuming and very expensive.” She looked him over, taking in his ruffled fur and fine, but old clothing. “It’s powerful magic,” she repeated.
“Yeah? I used to have one,” he said conversationally. “How much would it cost?”
She told him. It was a lot.
“Well, maybe later,” Ororo sighed.
“You know, I’ve heard a rumor about an item,” Thu’fara volunteered, leaning closer and lowering her voice. “The Grung are supposed to possess some kind of a magical painting kit. This kit allows you to paint something, anything you want, and it becomes real. It’s not a flask, mind you, but it could be used in the same way. And for even more than water.”
Ororo glanced around, wondering why Thu’fara was keeping her voice down. Nobody cared about their conversation. “Yeah? What’s the catch?”
She grinned. It wasn’t a nice grin — her pointed teeth were stained yellow and brown. “Oh, the Grung are very strange, interesting folks with – ah – big appetites. They can be friendly if you have what they want, though,” she told him conspiratorially.
“Do they like music?” Ororo asked.
“Hmm,” Thu’fara considered. “Their music is strange, kind of like frogs croaking.” She thought about it for another second. “Yeah, I guess you can say they like music.”
“Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” Ororo said awkwardly. He didn’t know how to change the subject gracefully, so he simply moved on. “What about magical weapons? Do you have any rapiers or other cool enchanted weapons?”
Thu’fara brightened. “Oh, yeah. What do you want?”
“I want to hit a little harder, you know. Maybe get some extra benefits, too. What have you got?” He asked, then added, “But I’d really like a rapier.”
“What do you think of this beauty?” Thu’fara produced a stunning rapier that glowed faintly, even in the Chultan twilight. “I just got my hands on it a few days ago. These are quite rare on the island, you know.”
Ororo reached for the rapier, but Thu’fara took a step back.
“Hold on, don’t get your fingerprints all over it. I expect to get at least 3,000 gold for this,” she admonished.
“3,000 gold?” Ororo repeated. His shoulders slumped. “That’s, uh, a little out of my price range right now.”
Thu’fara seemed satisfied, as if this was exactly what she expected. “Mmm hmm. I’ll not let it go for less.” She tucked the magical rapier back where it came from and propped a hand on her hip. “Anything else I can do for you, then? I’ve got a few scrolls and things that are more affordable.”
“Nah. Not unless you can point me to someone who can help me get a few things on the island a little more affordably, if you know what I mean,” Ororo said, flashing his charming smile again.
She laughed knowingly. “If that’s what you’re after, you might talk to the captain of the Brazen Pegasus. I don’t know ‘em myself, but I hear that’s the ship that gets things done.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Ororo said graciously, turning away. “I’ll remember you when I come into a little more gold.”
Thu’fara raised a hand in farewell. “One more thing, rabbit man,” she called after him. “You might want to talk to Prince Ekene-Afa’s people about wanting a weapon. He’s the man in charge of gladiatorial combat and weapons on Chult, and he might be able to offer things at a little bit of a lower price if you’re willing to do him some favors in return.”
Ororo turned back. “Thanks, that’s helpful. How do I get in touch with this prince?”
“It’s not quick, but you can see him while he’s on the Golden Throne,” Thu’fara explained. “The princes all take turns on the throne, and you have to catch the right prince on their day.”
Ororo repeated his thanks and left the market. He hadn’t gotten any supplies, nor had he found a weapon, but he did get a little bit of information, at least. Hopefully, he’d find his friends at the Thundering Lizard and pass along his learnings.

Fortunately for Ororo, his friends had indeed headed back to the Thundering Lizard after collecting from Taban. In fact, they all approached the door at exactly the same time.
“So you’re alive, then?” Kitayne greeted Ororo with a friendly smile.
“Yeah, and a little richer,” Ororo replied, jingling his coin purse.
Dara flicked at his ear playfully. “Oi, and so are we. Taban paid up after Rosalie scared him good,” she told him.
Ororo looked at the back of Rose’s head thoughtfully.
They all entered together and took up their usual places, happily ordering a round of hard-earned tej.
Terina was delighted to see Ororo. “Ah, sir! Glad to have you back,” she welcomed him warmly. “I’ve got something just for you. Hold on, I’ll bring it with your tej.” Soon, she was back with their frothy dinosaur horns of tej and a tall glass of flowery, fruity Harengon Spritzer.
Characteristically generous with his tips, Ororo handed over some coins and raised the Spritzer to his nose. It smelled sweet and floral, and also a little familiar. His first sip was a delight. “It’s not really a fey drink, though, is it?” Ororo asked. “There isn’t anything magical about this other than the taste. It’s very close to what my grandmother made, but, of course, not as good as hers.” He took another sip and smacked his lips appreciatively. “Almost, though.”
With a big grin, Terina patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll keep working on it.”
“Do you know if Azaka is here?” Rose asked, interrupting Terina’s flirtation.
The barmaid smoothed her apron, her smile shrinking a little. “Not yet, but she’s usually in around this time. I expect she’ll be here pretty soon.” With that, Terina swept away, perpetually busy with the rowdy bar patrons.
“We’re going to hire her, right?” Kitayne asked.
“Yes, it’s time,” Eirikr agreed.
When Azaka finally came in, she spotted the adventurers immediately and invited herself over to their table. By now, she knew the drill – they had questions, and she had answers. And patience, fortunately.
“Azaka, we’d like to hire you as our guide,” Rose said by way of greeting.
“Excellent,” Azaka responded. “Will you be paying up front, or are we making a trip to the Firefinger?”
“We’re going to go after your mask,” Rose confirmed.
Azaka nodded seriously. “Be ready for a difficult journey.” She leaned back in her chair, seeming much more open now that they had actually solidified their relationship.
They talked at length about the supplies that they would need and the things they still must do to prepare. With Azaka’s encouragement and Rose’s insistence, they agreed that they should hire at least 2 porters per canoe to help with the rowing, hauling, and work. Randolph reminded everyone that they’d need to visit Fort Beluarian, too, to buy that Flaming Fist pass.
Everyone seemed to agree well enough until the subject of tents came up.
“We each need one, right?” Kitayne asked.
Azaka shook her head. “That’s too much to carry. We’ll sleep two to a tent.”
“I’m sharing with the wizard,” Rosalie said immediately, pointing at Eirikr.
Eirikr’s eyebrows climbed his stony forehead in surprise. “Because I’m quiet?” he guessed, bemused.
“And because you don’t smell like anything,” she added.
He wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
The rest of the party looked around the table at each other. Dara and Kitayne scooted their chairs a little closer together, but didn’t speak. Randolph turned to stare at Ororo, and the harengon stared back.
“Maybe we should pick roommates later,” Randolph suggested, sensing the argument brewing.
“How much do porters cost, anyway?” Rosalie changed the subject deftly.
Azaka explained that, like most jobs, they could find people who charged top dollar and gave exemplary service. They could also find some folks who were down on their luck, perhaps even desperate, who would be willing to come along for a bargain rate.
“I kind of like the idea of helping someone out. You know, giving work to people who really need it,” Randolph chimed in.
“What if they die?” Ororo asked.
“Then we don’t have to pay them anymore,” Rosalie pointed out.
“Can we trust desperate people with the treasure we find?” Kitayne wondered aloud.
They discussed the pros and cons, and ultimately decided that this was another decision to leave for later.
Rose, who had been keeping a tally of all the things they’d need to buy, looked up from her parchment and frowned. “All of this is going to cost at least 360 or 370 gold, but that’s just a minimum. We should have plenty of extra in case things go wrong. What do you figure those little almiraj statues and the gems are worth?”
“Those gems are definitely worth at least the 500 gold that Taban owed, and we’ll get our cut out of that. I don’t know about the statues, though,” Eirikr said.
Randolph rubbed his nose with a dirty hand, ignoring Rose’s look of disgust. “I’ll bet we can get a couple hundred gold for the little statues.”
“Oh, you’ve got some things to sell, eh?” Terina interrupted, making them all jump. They hadn’t seen her coming, and they were all suddenly aware that they’d been discussing how much money they had in a crowded bar.
It was too late to be cagey now. “Yeah, we do. Any recommendations?” Dara asked, shooting a look at her friends.
“Sure, I know a guy in Tiryki Anchorage who likes to buy things,” Terina answered. “Did you steal them?”
“No, of course not,” Rose snapped.
“Oh,” Terina replied with a shrug. “Nevermind, then. You can just sell them at the market.” She swept away again.
Eirikr looked across the room at Terina. “You know, we’re holding onto a lot of valuable stuff,” he said quietly. “If she heard us, I bet that others did, too. We might want to go and handle this tonight. I know we’re all tired, but that just means we’re not ready for a fight.”
Azaka stood up to leave their table. “You should head to market, then. It’s open all night since the races are tomorrow.”
“You all go,” Kitayne said with a heavy sigh. “I’m going to head up to my room and rest. I think I’ve had all the excitement I can handle for one day.”
“Me, too,” Dara agreed.
They said their goodbyes and headed out, but not before Ororo got some tej to go and tipped generously.
The market was indeed still packed, and there were bookies collecting bets from crowds of excited Chultans with pockets full of gold. Rosalie asked around for someone who sold gems, ornaments, or any other fine luxuries, and she got directions to Prince Zhanthi’s Wares.
This was certainly the place to talk about gems and statuettes, it seemed. Prince Zhanthi’s Wares was a huge, glittering booth that was bursting with jewelry, silks, and curiosities. A massive golden lion sat at the entrance, and burly security guards were posted conspicuously all around.
Randolph pulled out the almiraj statues to hand them over to Rosalie. “You’re better at negotiating than I am,” he grumbled.
Ororo watched the figurines change hands and smiled appreciatively. “They really are pretty aren’t they? That one looks just like my cousin.”
Rose flashed her brightest smile at the vendor and beckoned him over. “I’m looking for someone who knows a lot about gems and gold, and I’ve heard you’re the best there is in Chult. Is that right?”
The man agreed that this was true.
After a few minutes of negotiation, Rose agreed to take 500 gold for the gems and 300 more for the almiraj statues. She reported back to her friends and let them know how it went.
“Let’s place a bet! We can double this!” Ororo shouted excitedly, trying to pull the group towards one of the street bookies.
Randolph and Eirikr each took one of Ororo’s arms and pulled him down the street.
“The only bookie we’re going to see,” Randolph gritted, “is the one we’re working for. Let’s go.”
K’alahu was pleased to see them. “You’re cutting in line. I take it you have good news for me?” she chirped as they approached.
Rose held out a pouch of gold. “We already took our share. Here’s yours.”
“So,” K’alahu sighed happily as she peeked into the bag, “Taban’s debt is settled. How delightful.”
“I’ve got a question about these races,” Randolph interrupted. “Can anyone participate?”
K’alahu looked at him curiously and nodded. “Anyone can bet, and anyone can race. You’ve never seen them? They’re the highlight of the week.”
“We haven’t seen them. What are they like?” Rose asked.
“Oh, I can tell you all about it.” K’alahu waved a hand and another bookie took her place at the till, accepting bets from the increasingly impatient line of Chultans.
The bookie explained that there were two categories of races. One was clean – the fastest dinosaur racer won, and they were just there to run. The other was called the Unchained Race, and it was much more popular. “Oh, it’s a bloodbath,” she relished as she described the kinds of mayhem that might happen in the Unchained Race. Amateurs were allowed to race in both categories.
“Where’s the track?” Eirikr asked.
“The track?” K’alahu laughed. “The whole city is the track, my stony friend. We race in the streets. It starts at noon, so make sure you’re out of the way before then.”
“I want to bet!” Ororo declared loudly.
“I want to race,” Randolph said, much more quietly.
“Good. I can help you both. Come with me,” K’alahu said, beckoning them to follow her.
She led them to a stable of sorts where all sorts of dinosaurs were tethered or milling around in pens. Rose stopped short.
“You guys go ahead,” she said with a grimace. “They just look like they smell awful.”
The others continued back without her. K’alahu stopped them in front of a pen with seven different dinosaurs in it.
“These are the dinosaurs that are available to race for amateurs. Your first time racing is always free, but you’ll have to pay an entry fee for future races. Take a look and see if any of them stand out to you, sir.” K’alahu explained, gesturing broadly to the pen.
Randolph looked over the creatures in the pen. There was a young allosaurus, a deinonychus, a dimetrodon, a hadrosaurus, a well-armored ankylosaurus, a baby triceratops, and a young t-rex. It was hard to tell much about them at a glance, but a few were clearly easier to handle than others.
“I want to race him,” Ororo announced, pointing at the deinonychus.
“Very good,” K’alahu said, pulling some parchment and a quill out of her pockets. “I’ll need your name and a name for your dinosaur.”
“I’m Ororo, and he’s Fluffy Bunny.”
Randolph rolled his eyes while K’alahu wrote that down. She waved at someone at the deinonychus was roped and led out of the pen.
“What about you?” K’alahu prompted Randolph.
“I’ll take the triceratops,” he said. “My name’s Randolph.”
“And what are you calling your dinosaur?” K’alahu asked, pen hovering over the parchment.
Randolph thought for a second. “Spiked Punch.”
“Delightful,” K’alahu muttered and wrote it down. The triceratops was similarly led away. “What about you?” she asked Eirikr.
“I’m just going to watch,” the genasi told her with a suspicious look at the dinos.
K’alahu shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ve got work to do, so let’s go.”
On the way back out to the street, K’alahu quickly explained that the top 3 placements in the race would get paid; 500 gold for first, 300 gold for second, and 200 gold for third. If there were enough amateurs racing, they would be in an amateur-only race. If not, they’d be in with experienced racers in the clean race. She instructed the to report promptly at 11 AM, then took her place back in the betting booth to finish out her busy night.
“Well,” Eirikr said once they were reunited with Rosalie, “we’re on our way to having enough gold to start our expedition.” He kept his voice down and gave a warning glance at his friends, trying to keep them from saying any actual amounts out loud.
“And we’ve got a race tomorrow!” Ororo added excitedly. “I say we head back to the Thundering Lizard and get ready with a little pre-gaming, if you know what I mean.”
They started back together. Ororo was bouncing, but everyone else was struggling to keep from dragging their feet.
“I’m going to get ready by sleeping, and I suggest you do, too,” Randolph said firmly.
“We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. We’ve still got to visit that fort to see the Flaming Fist, and, uh,” Rose paused and pulled out her Ytepka token, “I’ve got to handle this.”
“We should – what the hell?” Eirikr was interrupted when an acolyte, covered in dirt and babbling wildly, stumbled out seemingly from nowhere and clutched at the genasi’s arms. The strange man clung to Eirikr and stared up at his face.
“Speak to the wise guardian Orolunga east of Mbala. She can direct you to that which you seek!” The man hissed. He then collapsed at Eirikr’s feet, unconscious.
Eirikr stared down at the unconscious man, momentarily speechless. “Ororo, you’ve got a healing staff. Can you do anything for him?” he finally managed.
Ororo checked to see if the acolyte was hurt, but found that he was uninjured. “He’s fine, just asleep. Hold on, I can probably do something about it.” The harengon pulled out his pan flute and blew a screeching note directly into the acolyte’s ear.
The man’s eyes popped open and he sat up. He peered up at the adventurers, confused and a little scared.
“What the hell were you going on about?” Ororo asked.
“What?” the man coughed.
“You just accosted my friend here,” Ororo continued, pointing at Eirikr.
Kindly, Eirikr explained. “You told me to speak to the guardian of Orolunga.”
“I…what? The guardian of what?” The man got to his feet and rubbed his eyes. “How did I get here?”
“That’s what we want to know,” Rosalie said.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Eirikr asked.
With some gentle – and a little bit of not-so-gentle – questioning, they learned that the acolyte was a Chultan man who had gotten up that morning and headed to the temple to pray. He knelt down at the altar, and the next thing he remembered was waking up with a pan flute screeching in his ear. The man had never heard of Orolunga, was only vaguely familiar with Mbala, and had no idea who this wise guardian might be.
“I think I’ll go back to the temple. Maybe I can start putting this together,” the man muttered.
“Can I find you later? I might want to talk to you,” Eirikr asked.
The man nodded. “I’ll probably have questions for you, too. My name’s Eshek. Ask for me at the Temple of Savras. They’ll know where to find me.” With that, he wandered away, trying hard not to stumble.
“This place is full of weirdos,” Rose commented as they continued on their way.
Eirikr turned around to get another look at Eshek, but he was already gone.
Back at the Thundering Lizard, the friends said goodnight and headed off to bed. All except for Ororo, anyway.
“These people need some good entertainment,” he declared and headed up to the stage.

In the morning, Ororo was jolted awake by a cloudburst of cold rain. He climbed down from the roof and healed his hangover with his staff of healing before heading into the Thundering Lizard for breakfast, soggy fur dripping.
The others were already awake and cheerfully enjoying their meals.
“Nice weather for racing,” Rose commented brightly as Ororo squelched into his seat.
“At least the rain here is good for getting fresh water,” Ororo grumbled.
“A little rain never hurt. We’ll all be fine,” Randolph said.
“You’ll all be fine,” Rose corrected. “I’m not going to the races in this mess.”
“You mean you’re not going to come support your friends?” Randolph teased. There was an edge of real annoyance in his tone.
Rose sniffed. “My hair will get frizzy.”
“I can cut it off for you,” Randolph responded, reaching for his knife.
After breakfast, they stopped by the Grand Souk Market to pick up their modified armor. It took longer than they expected; people were crowded into the market, all trying to finish their trading before the market closed for race time.
Randolph and Ororo reported to the dinosaur stables a little early, hoping to get some extra time to get to know their mounts. Ororo’s deinonychus took to him immediately, but Randolph’s triceratops didn’t exactly warm to him immediately.
Holding out a goodberry, Randolph tried to stroke the trike’s nose. The dinosaur turned his head away and huffed. “Come on, Spiked Punch. You’re a good boy, right?” he soothed.
Ororo scratched his dinosaur’s neck affectionately and the creature closed his eyes happily. “Need some help?” he called over to Randolph.
Randolph scowled without replying.
Fortunately, the triceratops eventually accepted Randolph’s presence and was calm when the ranger mounted up. The racers all saddled up, and a cheery Chultan in a bright blue robe led them to the starting line for the amateur race.
The t-rex, they noted, was already giving his rider trouble. Both Randolph and Ororo tried to position themselves as far away from the snarling tyrannosaur as possible.
They all stood at the starting line, damp from the continuing rain. It wasn’t pouring, fortunately, and the sprinkle was almost refreshing in the Chultan heat. In the quiet before the race, it seemed like the racers could hear their own hearts pounding.
Crack!
Ororo’s deinonychus shot out of the gate and took an immediate lead, while Randolph’s triceratops lumbered out at a steady pace. An announcer, magically amplified through the streets, called out the action.
It’s Fluffy Bunny in the lead with Boogie Knights hot on his heels. We’ve got Electric Slime and Spiked Punch coming in right behind them, and, oh, what’s this? Tooth Fairy is stuck at the gate, ladies and gents.
Randolph risked a glance back and saw that the t-rex rider was indeed stuck at the gates. His dinosaur thrashed back and forth, refusing to head down the track at all.
At the front of the pack, Ororo’s dino tossed his head and faltered. “Come on, don’t do this to me!” Ororo called to his mount. “We’re both vegetarians, remember? We’re in this together!” Surprisingly, this seemed to work. Fluffy Bunny buckled down and charged back down the track.
It looks like Spiked Punch is gaining, folks! the announcer barked. We’ve got Fluffy Bunny in the lead, followed by Spiked Punch and Electric Slime. Tooth Fairy is still stuck at the gates. I can’t believe it!
Randolph leaned forward on his trike’s neck and grinned against the whooshing air. This was fun. He barely glanced at Ororo as he took the lead.
That’s it! Spiked Punch has taken the lead! It’s Spiked Punch and Fluffy Bunny, and, oh! Oh! We’ve lost our first racer! Boogie Knights has lost control.
Behind them, they could hear a woman screaming as her dinosaur chucked her off. They didn’t turn to see.
It looks like Tooth Fairy is finally on the move. Will he catch up? the announcer boomed. It’s Spiked Punch in the lead, followed by Fluffy Bunny and – wait, we’ve lost Electric Slime, too!
Ororo glanced back just long enough to see the man who had been riding the dimetrodon lying on the ground while his dinosaur trotted away. He seemed okay, at least.
Tooth Fairy is making his run for it. Will he – oh, no! Tooth Fairy is down, too! The race comes down to Spiked Punch and Fluffy Bunny!
Randolph and Ororo had a great time competing for first, but in the end, Randolph’s reliable triceratops lumbered across the finish line first. The two dismounted in the winners circle and grinned at each other.
Since they were the only two to finish the race, the officials let them split the third place prize between them. The party was now a thousand gold richer.
Reunited with their friends, Randolph and Ororo celebrated their win with a couple mugs of tej and watched the other races with interest.
The Unchained Race was total, bloody mayhem. There were dozens of dinosaurs, all crammed into the streets with abandon. The dinosaurs ate each other, riders tried to knock each other off of their mounts, and it seemed like the main goal was to survive as much as it was to win. At the end of it, the streets were smeared with blood and littered with dinosaur carcasses.
“Aren’t you glad you didn’t enter that race?” Eirikr muttered.
Ororo’s nose twitched. “I kind of wish I had,” he said.
At the end of the races, the dead dinosaurs were hauled away to the Red District, leaving streaks of blood and gore in their wake.
“Gosh, that’s a lot of dead dinosaurs,” Kitayne mused aloud. “What do you think they do with them all?”
A nearby Chultan laughed. “Lady, what do you think we eat on this island? Carrots?” Recognizing Ororo and Randolph, the man smiled brightly. “Eh, the big winners! You’re friends, then? That’s quite some jackpot you got between you,” he said.
Randolph nodded cagily and the group moved away.
Indeed, dinosaurs were already being butchered in the streets, and people hurried to buy the fresh meat as soon as it was packed.
The rain, which had continued drizzling throughout the races, began to taper off during the cleanup. It seemed like the water had refreshed the city. Water cisterns on roofs were full, and people everywhere were hosing off their doorsteps, running machinery with waterwheels, and bustling about with new vigor.
As the adventurers moved through the bustling city, people everywhere waved and cheered at Randolph and Ororo. More than one person called after them.
“I’m pretty sure your big win just shined a spotlight on us. These people are looking at us like we’re a bunch of idiots carrying around a lot of gold,” Eirikr pointed out.
“There’s got to be a safe place to keep all this gold,” Kitayne whispered.
“Maybe we should each take some of it so that if one of us gets robbed, we don’t lose all of it,” Rose suggested.
“You want to hand out big wads of gold right here in the street?” Ororo said incredulously.
Rose scowled. “Good point. Maybe we should talk to Syndra and see if she has any suggestions about how we should store this gold.”
“Isn’t she staying with Prince Watagato?” Ororo asked.
“Wakanga O’tamu,” Rose corrected.
Kitayne nodded. “She did say that we should contact her if we needed any help. I think she even marked the map with Wakanga’s palace.”
They discretely opened the map, being careful not to let anyone see them unfold it, and checked. Wakanga O’tamu’s compound was indeed marked.
At the gate, their knock was answered by a team of burly Chultans.
“What?” demanded the doorman.
Rosalie stepped forward. “Hi. We’re here to see Syndra Silvane.”
The man looked her up and down. “Why?”
“We work for her,” Rose replied. When the man didn’t immediately answer, she added, “and we need to talk to her.”
Playing dumb, the doorman stared at Rose.
She stared back. These men weren’t going to intimidate her easily.
Finally, the doorman waved a boy over to him. “Go tell Wakanga that a pretty princess girl and her weird friends are here to see Syndra.”
The boy darted off. Rosalie and the doorman continued their staring match while the other adventurers looked around curiously. Wakanga’s garden was impressive, at least.
When the boy returned with news that they were to be allowed inside, the guards ordered everyone to surrender their weapons. Reluctantly, they did. That done, they were led to a nicely appointed sitting room where Syndra met them.
“How unexpected,” Syndra said by way of greeting. “I did not expect you to be here so soon.”
“We’ve been in the city for three days and have nearly died three times, and we haven’t even tried going into the jungle yet. You said we could come to you for help,” Rosalie said defensively.
Syndra nodded. “Tell me what you need.”
Rosalie explained that they needed a place to store gold, and they’d also like to get some healing potions or scrolls from Wakanga to help them stay alive.
“So you came to me?” Syndra repeated.
“We didn’t just want to ask some random person where to store more than a thousand gold,” Eirikr pointed out.
Slowly, Syndra nodded. “You are wise to distrust people, but I would have expected that you’ve formed some alliances.” She explained that the Golden Throne was a place where people in the city could store their treasure securely. The princes would guarantee its safety, and in doing so, they could also keep tabs on anyone in the city who was gaining power and wealth. With a minimum of 100 gold and a simple arcane contract, they could store their money and draw on it securely whenever they wished.
“About the scrolls and potions you want,” Syndra continued, “you can ask Wakanga for them. He will scribe for a price, and he has a large stock of both common and uncommon potions.”
“Is there any chance you can get us a discount? He is your friend,” Eirikr suggested.
Syndra chuckled. It was a dry, rasping sound. “Wakanga likes attractive, intelligent women. I used to be that, but now, I am only intelligent. I don’t have the sway on him that I used to, and I will save what is left of my influence for more important things. You told me that your problem is having too much money, so spend some of it with Wakanga.”
They asked about Nani Pupu, about the acolyte who told Eirikr to seek the Wise Guardian of Orolunga, about their guide and their need to pay the Flaming Fist. Syndra offered little help on any of it. “You seem to be off to a good start,” was all she would say.
Finally, there was a booming laugh from the next room.
“Ah. Would you like to meet Wakanga?” Syndra offered.
They agreed that they would.
Wakanga was an energetic, friendly man in fine robes. “Ah, friends of Syndra. Come! I have something fun to show you!” he called immediately.
Puzzled, they followed Wakanga to a lush office. He swept back a curtain and revealed a huge automaton. With a flourish, he grinned at them. “Behold! Vorn!” he fairly shouted.
“What the hell is that?” Ororo asked.
“It is a very large and badass automaton called Vorn,” Wakanga laughed. “I found him in the jungle. But, of course,” he added with a meaningful wink, “I haven’t found the control amulet yet.”
Randolph chuckled. “It would be our honor to look for it for you, Prince Wakanga,” he said.
Wakanga laughed, too. “Good! I’m glad you caught on so quickly. Syndra has told me that you will be searching in the jungle, and if you would keep your eyes open for the control amulet, I will be very grateful.”
“And how will you show your gratitude, Prince Wakanga?” Ororo prompted.
Rosalie glared at him, but Wakanga did not seem offended by his tone.
“What a good question. What do you want?” Wakanga asked.
“I could really go for an enchanted weapon to help with the search,” Ororo answered immediately.
“What he means to say is, we’d like to buy some scrolls and potions, and we are happy to accept any rewards you might offer after we find the amulet,” Kitayne interrupted.
Wakanga smiled warmly. “Rabbit man, if you want enchanted weapons, you must talk to Prince Ekene-Afa. I do enchantments, but he puts them on weapons. I would not presume to step into his domain.”
Ororo raised his nose. “Let’s talk prince to prince,” he began, but Wakanga’s loud laugh cut him off.
“You are a poorly dressed prince and your body guards are terrible. When you attain princely status on Chult, we can talk prince to prince. Until then, do not attempt to disturb the balance of power.” Wakanga’s tone broached no arguments despite his laughter. “Now, let’s talk about the amulet.”
Wakanga pulled out a waterlogged journal and told them about the wizard who took these notes during his jungle explorations. He hadn’t even written his name in the journal and wasn’t scrupulous about recording places, but he did mention Vorn.
“I will show you where the journal and Vorn were found. Show me your map, friends,” Wakanga said.
They glanced at Syndra. She nodded that it was okay.
Ororo unrolled the magical map and laid it out for Wakanga to mark. Wakanga pointed to a place, and they added a note.
Meanwhile, Randolph asked again about the reward for retrieving the control amulet.
“I have a spell book with 15 very interesting spells. It is exceedingly rare, and Syndra has been dying to get her hands on it. Haven’t you, sweet?” Wakanga smirked at Syndra, who bowed her head. “You can have that.”
Eirikr looked interested. The others were merely curious.
“Now, you said you wanted to buy some potions and scrolls, yes? You may do that here. Speak with Amara, my master of inventory. Tell her that I’m giving you a 10% discount as friends of Syndra,” he offered generously.
“Thank you, Prince,” Rose said with a graceful curtsey.
“One more thing for you two,” Wakanga said, pointing at Rose and Dara. “Do not wait to respond to your Ytepka summons. Oh, and remember to pay Prince Jobal for your guides. We will have order in our city.”
Thanking Wakanga sincerely, the party filed out to make their purchases. It was becoming increasingly clear that they had a lot to learn about Chult.