Tychris' Tomb of Annihilation IC

[Tychris1]

Waterdeep

For the past several days, the talk of the streets and taverns has all been about the so-called death curse: a wasting disease afflicting everyone who's ever been raised from the dead. Victims grow thinner and weaker each day, slowly but steadily sliding toward the death they once denied. When they finally succumb, they ca't be raised―and neither can anyone else, regardless of whether they've ever received that miracle in the past. Temples and scholars of divine magic are at a loss to explain a curse that has affected the entire region, and possibly the entire world. For one reason or another 8 very different individuals found themselves invited to a one Gertrude Silvane's mansion in the Castle Ward, its dilapidated exterior belying the heavy promises offered within carefully penned notes, and the sweet honeyed words of rumor-mongering.

A prominent merchant and retired adventurer in Waterdeep, Gertrude Silvane has been rumored to possess extreme arcane power, and so when invited at sunrise you all arrived punctually. The front door creaks open to reveal the peering face of an uninformed attendant, his dour orc face belies his efficacy however, and he quietly leads you up a grand staircase to the third floor. Ushering you into a wood paneled room with a fireplace, comfortable chairs, and a heavy table bearing goblets and bottles of wine. The darkly paneled walls are hung with maps and sea charts. Racks, shelves, and cabinets hold hundreds more rolled up maps and charts. A person is seated in an overstuffed chair near the fire. None of you can discern a gender, because only the person's head emerges from under a heavy blanket draped over the chair, and an embroidered hood and silver mask conceal the wearer's face. Even the person's dry, raspy voice provides no clue.

"Help yourselves to wine, and seat yourselves, friends―I hope I may call you that."

[Jade_Tarem]

A fellow hood aficionado, and friendly at that! Secret bobbed excitedly in place, setting her own white mantle bouncing. It was the only change in body language readable under the white and grey ensemble of clothes, belts (just two, one for pouches and the sword belt) cloak, gloves, and wrappings. Still, her voice was chipper as she responded, "You certainly may! What did you need help with?"

[PepperP.]

"I'd be happy to count you amongst my friends, Madame Gertrude." The hooded woman's enthusiasm was catching and Lyndal's face brightened into a beaming visage of goodwill. Gently pointed ears protruded from her thick, dark hair revealing her half-elf heritage. The woman's airy sky-blue floor length skirt flowed with her movements. Her matching top was abbreviated in a nod to the spectacular spring weather they were having and the open back showcased the small, gleaming red scales that formed a narrowing V as it led down her back. The small colorful jewel-like stones decorating her hair tinkled as she looked to the other adventurers who were undoubtedly wondering what she was doing in their midst, by her less than rugged appearance.

"I am Lyndal Fireheart, of Waterdeep." She blushed slightly as anybody who was familiar with local nobility would recognize the name of her family's status of minor nobility. She nodded to each of the others in turn as she introduced herself.

[Nefarion Xid]

There was an awkward pause as the half-elf woman gestured for the person to her left to introduce himself. His eyes shifted from the cheerful bobbing white cloak to the obnoxiously chipper woman (given the early hour), and then to the masked lump under the blanket. His heel twisted around before he consciously made the decision to abandon this venture and the band of misfits, but he paused despite his instincts.

"Da-ri-on," he punctuated stiffly, through only one side of his mouth. The man was either slow, deeply uncomfortable, or had made up the name on the spot. "Just Darion will suffice, thank you," he added, fearing the curvy half-elf would think him simple.

Most of him was covered up with a dark, all-weather cloak with a drab, grey mink mantle. A matching cowl and balaclava bunched around his neck. The outer fabric was the exact color of the streets at night. Not too blue, not too grey. The diamond brocade could even be mistaken for cobblestones at a distance. Beneath the cloak were a handsome chocolate leather jerkin and finely tailored clothes: black and grey striped trousers, a silk navy shirt and tall buckled boots that any cutthroat would kill for. A pair of gloves was tucked into his belt alongside a whip, latched in place with a snap button loop for quick retrieval. Three identical daggers were on his left hip, but this was obscured by the way he wore his cloak.

The man himself was charitably described as handsome despite his rugged and sleep deprived appearance. He had at least combed his mud colored hair in recent memory, but it was too wind tousled now to count. His beard was nearly a week old. It looked as if his nose had been broken more than once and he bore a scar that split his brow and upper lip on the left side. He didn't seem particularly dashing or even roguish, more just pissed to be alive and awake at any hour in the morning.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Amongst the group gathered, one of them appeared at first glance to be child. Standing just shy of three feet tall, a moment's scrutiny revealed that she was in fact a gnome. With hair the color of ivy and huge saucer eyes that sparkled like green tourmaline, the little gnome was impeccably dressed in a fine dress of forest green with details in rich brown and black. A pair of spectacles was perched atop her button nose, magnifying her eyes to appear even larger. Said eyes darted about the room with excited curiosity, absorbing every detail beneath a pair of long, pointed eyebrows that stuck out from her face nearly as far as her ears.

"Hello!" the gnome said, her voice a soprano approaching a squeak, "It's so very lovely to meet everyone! You can call me Bean. I guess I'm an adventurer now? How exciting! Just don't ask me to get anything off the top shelf! Hee hee!"

Having never been to the city before, and a human-dominated city at that, Bean had been nearly overwhelmed since arriving in Waterdeep. From her perspective, she walked in a city of giants, and now here she was surrounded by giants of supposedly noteworthy skill! Some of them were mysterious, like the enshrouded lady, while others were quite intimidating, like the lizard-man or the human man built like a castle gatehouse. Bean gazed up at each of them with a nervous smile, rocking back and forth on her little shoes, unsure what to do with her hands. It was all she could do not to vibrate into non-existence with anticipation.

[Othniel]

Aleandrae

"Aleandrae Valhiri," spoke a Tiefling dressed in fine foreign style. Ms. Valhiri wore a pair of light tan trousers thrust into knee-high boots with downturned tops. Her airy white blouse with a ruffled neck was covered with a tooled leather vest, and everything was held together with a stylish sash and some sort of fringey skirt-like article that covered the backs of her legs down to her boots. Her accent unmistakably marked her as hailing from Calimshan (for those who could recognize such things), and she carried herself with an air of cultivated grace that spoke to pretensions of exotic nobility. She was tall and lithe, and balanced herself well with a long tail emblematic of her kind. This was combined with pale red skin, a pair of small horns, sharp teeth, and a forked tongue that completed the package. Her blue-black hair had a slight sheen, and a white streak originating at her forehead ran completely through it. Aleandrae tucked it out of the way and bowed to those present.

"Pleased to meet all of you as well," she said. The Tiefling looked around at those assembled and smiled as she examined each. "What an interesting crowd you have assembled here, Madame Silvane. I hope something exciting comes of this little gathering. I do love a good mystery. Especially if wine is involved."

With that, she moved to help herself to a glass of wine and eventually found herself near the rather verdant-looking gnome. "My, you are rather green, my dear. You must be the envy of all the trees in the land come springtime."

[TheDarkDM]

Siward

Having arrived at the gate with a sea shanty on his lips and a twinkling smile in his eye, the read haired noble cut a disarmingly approachable figure despite his formidable height. He was dressed, if anything, like an upper class twit, fine red trousers tucked into polished boots, a loose white tunic embroidered with serpentine patterns beneath a similarly red doublet. It all served to conceal his true build, though the creaking of embroidered thread suggested he was barely contained by the fine garb. Unlike some of the others, he had arrived unarmed, leaving some question as to what good - if any - he would prove to be. Accepting a glass of wine with a glad nod, he raised it towards their masked host.

"My thanks for your hospitality, Lady Silvane."

He took a long draught from the glass as the others introduced themselves, lowering it only as attention moved to him. Taking a moment to smooth his mustache, he gave a small bow.

"A pleasure to meet you all! I am Siward Alfson, late of the Moonshae Isles. I dearly hope you have some answer to this death curse business, Lady?"

He looked inquisitively towards their host.

[Tychris1]

Waterdeep, Gertrude Silvane's House

As several of the motley crew began to sit down to drink at the heavy table they noticed a variety of peculiar and fantastical things. The chairs moved and arranged themselves of their own accord, sliding out in anticipation of their hosts, then sliding back in once seated, and the various glassware arrayed before the adventurer's contorted and conformed to their individual grips. The wine tasted heady, it was a delicious (obviously expensive), and yet drinking from the glass did not diminish its content. Supping from the unlabeled spirits has left you in, well, greater spirits.

Spoiler: All who drink the wine

Show

Your HP maximum and current hitpoints increases by 10. You are immune to being frightened, poisoned, and any poisons or diseases currently affecting you are cured. You make all Wisdom saving throws with advantage.

Floating a glass over to herself with a spectral flaming hand, Gertrude brought it to her veiled face and held it there. She made no motion to drink from it or reveal her face, only stirring the contents within, and waited patiently for the adventurer's to settle themselves in. Raising the glass in unison with Siward, Gertrude floated it back down to what could vaguely be thought of as her chest level, and began to wheeze out.

"You are a shrewd man, Lord Siward. Once I was an adventurer like so many others. I died and came back during my time but I have since closed that chapter of my life... the death curse you have heard about has struck me. I-...I don't know how much longer I'll last before I perish. Clerics, herbalists, witches, they've no help to offer. They're stymied by what is happening," Her words catch in her throat briefly as she begins a short round of haggard coughing but continues "My contacts in the Harpers have learned that the source of the Death Curse is some sort of Necromantic artifact. They call it the Soulmonger. According to their sources, the Soulmonger is somewhere in Chult. I want you all to go to Chult and save me."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Those who drank from the wine can try to roll Arcana if they wish to ascertain its properties.

[Jade_Tarem]

Secret half rose from her seat, leaning on the table. "Of course we'll save you! Where is Chult?"

[Nefarion Xid]

"Sit down, Drizzt Dumbass." The burglar continued to slouch sideways in his seat. He barely raised his voice. "I'm not getting on a boat to gods' damned Nyanzaru unless someone starts talking about money."

[Tychris1]

Waterdeep, Gertrude Silvane's House

"Chult is a penninsula ringed with mountains and choked with rainforests far to the south from here. Enormous reptiles, savage goblins, and an army of undead prowl its jungles and ruins. Mapping the place has always been nigh impossible, and nothing is known about the region's current geography beyond a few miles from the coast," She slowly turned her head over to Darion, the fireplace's crackling yellow turning to an azure flame "As for payment, Darion, Chult is a land of great promise. Countless dead civilizations, ruined shrines, and forgotten wonders rest amidst its dangerous heart. I am sure without a shred of doubt that if you the skill, wit, and tenacity to plunder it you will reap enough treasure to field several kings' ransoms. Beyond that though, I offer you the chance to take a single possession from my collection accumulated over years of adventuring. Magical weapons forged from the hearts of dragons, lyres that rend the world around them, and other tools that would put someone such as you beyond the grasp of the Red Sashes."

[CockroachTeaParty]

If the tiefling was poking fun at the gnome, it went right over her head (which was not difficult at 2'11"). She beamed up at the towering red-skinned beauty.

"Why thank you Miss Valhiri! I can't speak for the trees, but it would be nice if my hair changed color in the fall."
She pampered her neatly-kept bun, secured with a pin and decorated with a small pink flower.
"You look quite fetching this evening yourself. Can I call you Aleandrae? You're sitting next to me, and you're going to tell me who your tailor is, I won't take no for an answer."

As the chair scooted aside to let Bean sit, she let out a little "Oh!" and giggled as she took her place at the table. She could just see over the edge of the table, and made another exclamation of surprise and delight as the wine glass resized to fit her tiny hand. She took a polite sip, grinned, then took several more far less dainty draughts.

Her cheer wilted like a sunflower in shadow as their host explained her dire situation. Huge tears welled in Bean's eyes as her lip began to tremble.
"Oh, you poor dear! Of course I will help you."

She arched a lengthy eyebrow at Darion, but before she could respond the prospect of high adventure, wealth, and a borrowed magic item was on the table. Bean gasped with wonder, waiting for further details with bated breath.

[Othniel]

Aleandrae

Quietly delighted at the small gnome's interest, Aleandrae would have readily engaged her in a lively discussion on tailors and clothing styles, but their host chose to speak. "Let's leave that discussion for later, hm? But you may certainly call me by my given name."

"Reptiles, goblins, and undead," the tiefling muttered. "Sounds like a lovely vacation spot. No wonder my father didn't want to share any details about his expedition. I would have wanted to go in an instant." More loudly she spoke, "So if it's so dangerous there, what sort of, um, assurance can you offer? What I mean to say is that with this wasting curse, if any of us die (and several probably will, let's be honest here), we have gambled and lost much in an effort to reverse it. In the event that any or all of us fail, would you be willing to pay for retrieval and resurrection should the venture or another like it prove successful? A magical item is no good to any of us if we are not alive to make use of it."

[Nefarion Xid]

"... and passage, miscellaneous travel expenses, expedition supplies, local guides," he continued ticking things off on his fingers. "I don't know about you, but I don't have a tent and mosquito netting in my pocket. We'll have to buy all of that in Nyanzaru. Minimum five hundred each? And this is all before hazard pay."

He'd heard promises of fabulous wealth and arcane relics before. As he currently possessed neither of those things, despite being on the job for some years, he ignored such talk until compensation was physically on the table.

[TheDarkDM]

Siward

Seemingly perturbed by the rogue's incessant penny-pinching, Siward stood from the table and moved around to him.

"Come now, Darion, there's no need to be impolite to the ladies. Why, one might think you were afraid of risking your life!"

He let out a laugh that illustrated just how ridiculous he found that notion.

"No doubt we'll carve through these jungles like an scythe through wheat! Just think of the grand spectacle of it all!"

He slapped Darion full on the back, revealing for the first time his formidable strength.

[zabbarot]

Srirak sat quietly trying to gauge his softskinned companions. Up until now he had only seen softskin inns, but he was fairly certain this home represented uncommon wealth. The exterior facade must be to deter thieves. He was pleased with this assesment and did his best not to make a spectacle of himself drinking the wine. He did not have lips per se so the best option was to just open his mouth wide and poor a little in at a time. He was quite refined. A year ago he might have dumped the whole glass in at once.

As the conversation moved on to Chult, Srirak was not certain he liked the way these softskins said 'reptile'. He was no threat. He came to help. And now they were caught up on compensation. Srirak eyed Just Darion with distrust. Perhaps he was a dragon. Putting gold ahead of survival, Srirak took a deep breath to calm himself.

"I am ready. We can leave now?"

[TheDarkDM]

Siward

Unconcerned with Darion's reply to his admonishment, Siward's full attention swung around to the lizardfolk as he finally spoke up. The look of surprise on the bearded man's face suggested he hadn't truly noticed their scaled companion until that moment.

"Zounds, sir! 'Tis like man mated with a leviathan of the deep. I had heard stories in the homeland, but I'd never thought to meet one of your people in this lifetime. Well met!"

[Tychris1]

Waterdeep, Gertrude Silvane's House

Looking calmly at the adventurer's raise questions, interject, and slap one another Gertrude delicately lowered her glass to the table.

"I will honor any sacrifice you make in the effort to save countless lives, including my own. As for travel and traveling expenses, that will be unnecessary. Once you have prepared yourselves I will teleport us all to Port Nyanzaru. I have been there several times before, so there's little chance of mishap. Once there, I shall stay with an old friend of mine. Wakanga O'tamu. He is one of the seven merchant princes who rule the city. I am sure he can arrange for you all to find a proper guide of the jungle. As for hazard pay and supplies...." She glanced to a closet off to the side, its wooden doors opening as several bags full of jingling metal floated over, and placed themselves before each of the adventurer's "This is what I have to offer to defray your expenses in Port Nyanzaru."

Her burbling blanket shimmied slightly as a rolled up piece of paper escaped, slowly floating over to the center of the wooden table. "Last, but certainly not least, is this. Working from dozens of sea charts, log books, and explorers' journals, I assembled everything known about the current state of Chult into one map. I'll provide it to you all if you undertake my mission."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Looking inside of the bags reveals 50 gp in each of them. One for each party member.

[zabbarot]

Srirak was accustomed to human surprise about his appearance, but the outburst still caught him a little off guard.

"What... what is 'la-vie-tin'? This is compliment?" Suddenly aware that his confusion might be obvious Srirak laughed loudly. At least he thought it was laughter. It was sort of an aggresive choking sound. "Yes. Well met."

[Nefarion Xid]

In his mind's eye, Darion saw himself tackling the red haired man to the floor and jamming a dagger through his eye until knocked against the back of his skull. He'd never done such a thing and didn't intend to, but it maintaining a vivid imagination was an essential coping mechanism for anxiety.

Such fantasies were curtailed as he began to count the offered gold. He had a vague understanding of the 'opportunities' available in Chult. Dungeon delving was his true passion, really. His immense talents were wasted as a cat burglar and fixer in a town already sick with thieves.

"Fine," he said quietly. "But I want to see three of your alleged treasure trove of relics before I agree. Prove you have payment for our return and I'll go."

[Othniel]

Aleandrae

Compensation, travel expenses, and everything else was expunged from her list of worries (for the moment) as Aleandrae beheld the rolled map floating over to the table. Her eyes grew wide, and a smile lit up her face. "I'm in. You'll need an expert in cartography. That's me."

Glancing over at Darion, she flashed him a toothy grin. "And I have my own tent. And pick, spade, and crowbar. Pretty much all the tools, really. Need a new set of trowels and a hammer though. Maybe a brush or two..."

[Tychris1]

Waterdeep, Gertrude Silvane's House

With nary a word, Gertrude rustled within her baggy coverage, and floated out a thin black fabric that steadily unfolded itself before laying flat on the ground a few feet removed from the edge of the table. She nodded her head towards the fabric as she finally began the process of undoing some of her mask to sup from the wine.

Spoiler: The Map of Chult

Show

Check Roll20!

Spoiler: To Those Who Peer Within the Black Fabric

Show

It is actually a seemingly extradimensional space. A hole has appeared in the once solid wooden floor of the third level of this mansion. Within it are several oddities. Beautifully carved statues made of ebony, daggers, swords, wands, staves, and dozens of potions or elixirs bobble about. A tiny creature made of stone dutifully seems to be keeping track of and maintaining all of them, crawling from surface to surface, and ignoring the presence of any who enter the hole physically.

Spoiler: Creature maintaining inventory

Show

[PepperP.]

"I could use a good pair of boots, if we're to be tromping around a rainforest." Lyndal leaned back in her seat and gestured to a sandal-clad foot with a sheepish grin. The grin faded however, as their ill host produced the magical fabric. Being naturally trusting, Lyndal did not hesitate to poke her head through and she gasped at the large cadre of magical items she saw displayed before her.

"Surely your fears are relieved now, Sir Darion, after seeing such a grand show of magic and fortune!"

[Othniel]

Aleandrae

"I'll take a peek." The Bard could hardly tear herself from the map, but she did so out of curiousity for the fabric. "Oh, it's adorable!" she exclaimed, upon catching sight of the funny little stone creature.

[Tychris1]

Waterdeep, Gertrude Silvane’s House

The tiny creature looks up as Aleandrae comments on it, smiles, excitedly waves one tiny stone like paw, and quickly returns to its cataloguing.

[TheDarkDM]

Siward

Strange as the lizard man's laughter was, it seemed only to embolden Siward's enthusiasm. Extending his hand, he grasped Srirak's possibly unwilling hand in a vice-like grip.

"Have you no experience with leviathans? Sea serpents? The great beasts of the deep ocean that only the bravest dare face! My comparison is meant wholly in praise, friend. No doubt we shall see further marvels to beggar the imagination in the benighted Chultan expanse."

Releasing his hold, he turned back to Gertrude.

"I will require but a little time, my lady, to retrieve my belongings from the Withermore estate. They have been kind enough to host me since my arrival, but I shan't impose on them when there's adventure afoot!"

[Nefarion Xid]

Darion sniffed in the direction of the portable hole full of plunder. "Ah. Yeah. That will do it." He wagged his finger in Gertrude's direction and nearly smiled.

Finally assured that his new employer was acting in good faith, he picked up his still full glass of wine and drank enthusiastically. Anyone with that kind of collection didn't need to rely on drugging people and selling them into slavery.

"It's just Darion," he said, standing alongside the half-elf-quarter-dragon. "I'm not a knight. I'm ..." he paused, searching for a term more flattering than 'thief', "In acquisitions."

[PepperP.]

Lyndal hadn't really thought the roguish looking man a knight, though his clothes were rather well made. She grinned up at him in amusement.

"Acquisitions is it, Mister Darion? Well then I am certain your skill set will come in handy." She turned back to their host.

"Do you have an idea of where exactly we are to begin our search? Chult is a rather broad starting point." She picked up her bag of 50 gold and tucked it away.

[zabbarot]

"Oh qumado adulese. Yes. I know of this creature." His draconic was much more fluid, lacking the stilted quality of his common. He stared at the human's hands, desperately trying to remember what that meant. After a moment his neck flushed red as he remembered. Oh no. No, no, no. He means to court me. Srirak had heard the stories. Half elves and orcs. Half dragons. Centaurs.

Srirak began laughing again.

[Tychris1]

Waterdeep, Gertrude Silvane's House

Sipping her wine softly, Gertrude lowered her mask once more from behind her veil, and sighed as Lyndal asked her question "No," she croaked out "I'm afraid everything I've told you is as much as I know, Lady Fireheart." She instantly became dead silent as she slowly turned her head (and her chair rotated of its own accord) towards the fireplace. She sat in silence watching the fire crackle.