| Orym Rednose |
Orym walks in looking out of place.
| Sorn |
Stat Rolls:
Stat: 4d6 ⇒ (4, 1, 1, 5) = 11
Stat: 4d6 ⇒ (2, 3, 6, 5) = 16
Stat: 4d6 ⇒ (6, 5, 2, 3) = 16
Stat: 4d6 ⇒ (3, 1, 2, 2) = 8
Stat: 4d6 ⇒ (6, 4, 5, 1) = 16
Stat: 4d6 ⇒ (6, 6, 4, 1) = 17
Oops, I meant to put this in the other thread. That's what I get for paying attention to what tab I have open.
| DM Greaek |
You have been invited to the home of Syndra Silvane, a retired adventurer, and merchant. A uniformed attendant leads you up a grand staircase to the third floor, then ushers 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. You can't 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 con· ceal 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. And you can describe your characters
| DM Greaek |
Oh and I thought I already had this but
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 can't be raised-and neither can anyone else, regardless of whether they've ever received that miracle in the past.
| Seraphiel |
Seraphiel, a cowled man dressed in fine robes and carrying a staff, poured himself a measure of wine. There is an air about him that suggests something more than meets the eye. A pin, more of a badge in the shape of a harp, can be seen on his chest. He nods at the words of Syndra Silvane. He then pulls down his cowl to reveal dark hair, pale skin and golden eyes.
| Orym Rednose |
An impossibly tall . . . Man? . . . enters. His skin save for his large redding nose and ears is a grey with a touch of blue. He is crowned with a tangle of yellow hair bound at the top of his head with more spilling down his back. a pair of braids in an elvish style drop from his temples. His clothes are the color of the earth and forest. He walks with a walking stick though the leather binding near the ground suggests it could be gripped as a club. A sickle with an antler handle hangs from one side of his belt. The other hip sports a fine elvish scimitar. The attendant looks like a nervous child walking next to the giant. The man raises a hand touching the door frame as he stoops beneath it like he is ducking a low tree branch. His gear is patched with hide patches bears the sign of miles of travel. "Oh thank ye little one. So I be to wait'n here eh." The voice of the man is strange. It has the resonance and timber that you would expect but there is a lightness to it spoken from high in his throat. At Syndra's invitation the big man looks over to the fire place. "Thanks to ye. I've not known civil folk to share so readily" His words suggest a discomfort with people, even some judgement for those he terms 'civil folk' but it comes off much as one would dismiss a child's fault than true umbrage. Either way the remark was easily discerned as an intended compliment. Looking to the wine the big man moves to take a glass which looks sized for a child in his grip. He pours himself a full glass and sips it more heartily than polite company would prefer. His hand shifts grip several times on the tiny glass before finding an easy hold.
He drinks quietly a moment before moving to a nearby wall and looking over the maps. A look difficult to discern crosses his face. His height forces him to stoop to get a good look at things. One map in particular strikes him a large finger pokes at the High Forest on a map of the north. He takes another drink before needing to refill his glass.
| Zeb Ochrona |
A broad-shouldered gray-haired man strides into the room. He appears somewhat uncomfortable in the finery and stands in the middle of the room, appearing to have little experience with upper-class manners. His plain brown tunic is patched and, though it is clean, fits poorly with the environment. But the strength of his personality helps make up for his poor manners. The old soldier turns to the person in the armchair.
Thank you for your hospitality. Might I inquire why you have gathered us here?
Somewhat suspicious of their extremely strange host, Zeb opens his awareness to detect unnatural creatures.
Activating my divine sense ability
| Nathaniel Seely |
A pretty tall, at least by human standards, man follows the group in. He wears a set of fairly average traveler's clothes, although the style is not quite what someone from the Sword Coast would possess. At his side is a sheathed longsword; the hilt shows clear signs that it is much used, but well maintained. His stance unconsciously shows that he is accustomed to wearing armor, although none is being worn at this time. As he sweeps his hood back you can see he has fine features in a completely unblemished face. His hair is a rich brown with golden highlights, but without a doubt his most striking feature are his eyes. They are a pupil-less topaz, and frankly somewhat unnerving in his otherwise human face.
Nathaniel softly says to himself "This must be why I am here, this Death Curse." As he takes in the surroundings Nathan's attention is piqued when another one of the gathered adventurers asks just why Syndra has gathered them here. He stares at the person huddled in the chair and without even waiting for an answer to the previous question just flat out asks "Do you have this Death Curse? Have you asked us here to find some way to cure you of it?"
[Just how tall is your Firbolg if I may ask?]
| DM Greaek |
Here is some more info: One of the Harper's liches has divined that the source lies in the jungles of chult.
Sorry for the delayed post, between my service being crap and piazo servers going down
| Orym Rednose |
He just hit 8 feet.
| Nathaniel Seely |
Nathaniel nods as Syndra describes the Death Curse, and the Soul Monger. "That being the case, it is my duty, and pleasure, to accept your offer. What say you, fellow summonees?" Addressing himself once more to Syndra, Nathan asks "How soon until we depart for Chult?"
| Ambooku |
One of Syndra's attendants hastily leads in a small, extremely wiry man with black hair carrying what some would recognize as part a ships tiller. As he enters the fire-warmed room he quickly removes his shirt, a sailor's garment of a size much too large for him, and rolls it up and places it in his pack. This reveals a series of densely-packed scars of claw marks marring the dark-bronze skin along the full length of his left arm up to his shoulder and back.
The attendant approaches a map on the wall and points to Baldur's Gate on it "You are here..." and then points to a distant part of the map "...and Chult is here."
The small man takes a moment to absorb the enormity of his situation before asking "And you will send Ambooku back to Chult if agree to help?"
The attendant replies "Yes, if you agree to help these..."
The wildman cuts her off "Ambooku agrees."
| Orym Rednose |
Orym listens to all that is said, "Such an abomination must be destroyed."
| Orym Rednose |
Oh jeez
If it helps I rolled for it. (6'10" + 2d8) I rolled a 14. Hence 8 feet. I was going for gentle giant. Well until things get dangerous. Then less gentle.
Orm walks away from the maps and comes to the edge of the conversation. "Far from home I am already. I ne're heard of this Chult. But it seeming ta be even further afield. What can ye tell us of this land and what we be might expectin'."
| DM Greaek |
To Ab she smiles faintly and responds Very Good
To Nate she responds I will be coming with you there, and some of that money should go towards hiring a guide to help you
And to Ory she responds It is a very bad place, bugs, horrible weather, undead, dinosaurs, undead dinosaurs and all sorts of other bad things.
| Orym Rednose |
Orym furrows his brow, "Weather, and bugs are but aspects o' the land certainly harmony can be reached." He raises an eyebrow, "What's a dinosaur?"
| Zeb Ochrona |
Zeb relaxes somewhat soon after the host begins to speak. The old warriors shoulders grow heavy with weight as she describes the suffering caused by the death curse. He stands and crosses his arms.
Someone must end this unnatural suffering. And "someone" means I'm to try and do it.
He looks around at the others summoned.
I'd know something of those I may be going into battle with. Why would you go? Do you have experience in a life and death fight?
He turns to Amboku and bows politely in the rough but respectful manner of a man who never spent time at court.
My second question does not apply to you as you seem to have handled yourself through a number of fights, my good man. But if you would journey with us to lift this curse, I would know your answer to my first question, as I would of us all. I cannot rest while the innocent suffer and the beautiful is corrupted. A heavy curse but a blessing of purpose.
| Orym Rednose |
Orym nods grimly as if the discussion of such violence is unseemly at Zeb's words 'life and death fight.'
He sighs know he must say more, "Aye I have needed to learn to fight. If there is another fight other than life or death it sounds a foolish waste. My people have long lived in the lands that many civil folk have called wild, these lands sound like a wild place."
"I was chosen by the elders of my people to seek out answers to grim omens. This lead me to seek the help of the elves of the High Forest, ever our allies." His hand rests unconsciously on the hilt of his elven blade. "Their answer's lead me here. This curse has effected a hero of my people, and now I hear many others. This I will see to whatever end."
| DM Greaek |
She nods. When everyone is ready she gestures with her hands, and a bag filled with 50 gold each appears in each one of your hands, and chalk lifts from chests and and begin to make teleportation runes, a gateway pops up and she gestures for you to go through,2 servants picking her up on a more comfortable stretcher and taking her through
| Nathaniel Seely |
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[Going back in time a bit, before the portal, to answer Zeb's question.]
Nathaniel weighs his words before answering the old warrior, then says "I have a calling - that is I am sworn to a higher power. I was lead here to do something important, and now I know what that something is. So I go because I choose to try and rid the world of this evil, but also because ultimately I must." Then, with a wry smile as he passes a hand over his lean body he says "Despite my perhaps unimpressive physique I can assure you that I have seen my share of fighting already. My faith and force of will guides my sword arm as surely as your muscles guide yours."
[Back to the present.]
Nathaniel seems a bit surprised as the bag of gold appears in his hands, and a portal appears in the room. However he is eager to begin this quest and steps confidently through the gate after Syndra is carried through.
| Orym Rednose |
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Orym looks at the pouch. He wrinkles his nose. "Hmm thank you. I know this is worthwhile to some of you." He absently puts the pouch in his belt. He is impressed with the magic, "I have not see such a display before." He walks through stooping into the portal.
| DM Greaek |
You appear in a tropical city under the blazing sun. The familiar sounds of a harbor- creaking ropes, slapping waves, heavy barrels rolling across cobblestones-mingle with voices shouting and cursing in an unfamiliar language filled with clicks, inhalations, and singsongy words that make it sound almost musical. The aroma of.
unfamiliar spices and tropical fruit mix with the wharf. side smells of fish, tar, and canvas.
Beyond all that, Port Nyanzaru is an explosion of color. Buildings are painted in bright shades of blue, green, orange, and salmon pink, or their walls are adorned with murals portraying giant reptiles and mythical heroes. Every building sports baskets and clay urns of colorful flowers or is draped in leafy, flowering vines. Minstrels
in bright clothing adorned with feathers and shells per· form on street corners. Multicolored pennants and sun awnings flutter atop the city walls. A crowd of children dressed in feathered hats and capes races past you, squealing in delighted terror as a street performer cos· turned as big-toothed lizard stomps and roars behind them. The whole city seems to be bustling, sweating, laughing, swearing, and singing.
| Orym Rednose |
Orym looks about he sniffs the air and looks about the scene, "The land here has not stopped its fightin'." His word choice is odd but the implication that elsewhere the land has stopped fighting. "There is beauty in that."
| Seraphiel |
Seraphiel quietly palms and hides his harper pin, while maintaining a smile. He nods and pulls down his cowl further to hide his face. "Too many sights to distract. Sadly, our mission requires us to move quickly. Where shall we set our base so we can prepare and gather the things we need?"
I assume Syndra is with us.