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Silas steps forward and takes the map, scanning it for a moment and then handing it off to the nearest of his new comrades. What little of him is not shrouded in a heavy cloak and cowl is misshapen, and coloured an ugly blotchy red. He uses a polearm almost as a walking stick and hunches over, occasionally the tip of a tail can be seen beneath his robes covered in entwining veins a repellent pale pinkish thing -like something found under a rock.
Thinking for a moment he rasps, "Lugizar Trantos spent the better part of a year in the Mwangi Expanse. I hear he wrote letters to his brother and wife, but after a few months these stopped coming and he was given up for dead. If I recall correctly much of the Mwangi’s darkest interior worships a demon lord named Angazhan, who is described in the Book of the Damned as a thing of primordial darkness, a foul-breathed demon who grunts prophecies of blood to apes and madmen. The jungle is his beating heart, they say. That would seem to fit our accursed museum, though of course it could be any of a myriad of other dark beings."
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"The part of the letters is known to me, albeit by hearing the ventures from a bard who visited our city on occasion."
Marduk thinks back to the library inside the temple of Irori, something comes back to mind.
"Our temple had an extensive library on the many places of the explored world. The history of the Mwangi was also documented, however that area is known to be very dangerous. The extended description was":
*Insert the "1st description" our dm has posted. :)*
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Wyeth glances up from the map at Saitama's comment. "With what Adril said, that was no cold Lugizar had. Something much worse."
He returns his attention to the handout. "This so-called 'map' is a waste of paper and ink, nothing even marked. But this," he says, pointing at the Northwest section, "looks like an office. If the place is haunted, we should go around the outside and bang on this window." He points to the one in the upper right corner of the map, on the wall running East-West. "If this Nigel person's in the office he'll come. If he's not, we can go in that way. Win-win."
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The Harrower chimes in as the group approaches the Museum with with some information about the Mwangi and the demons that dwell there.
"We should be wary of the supernatural and occult when dealing with the savages of the Mwangi jungles... Especially those beholden to the ape-men that live there. Many worship a demon lord called Angazhan who deals in blood and prophesies. Specifically, the worship of Angazhan centered around the Gorilla King's city, and the cultist were said to capture the souls of mokeys in wooden idols called Tik Taan... the captured souls are now said to render anyone who stays in the presence of the Tik Taan insane..."
He cocks a grin breaking up his tale of the dire and occult and follows up, "If we're lucky that's all hog-wash but I'd be careful about anything ape-shaped when dealing with artifacts of the Mwangi, which we will be if what I've heard about this Trantos character is true... Supposedly he spent too much time in the Mwangi and after letters from him topped reaching his family he was thought to be lost or dead. However, the letters spoke of quite the lucky find at once point... notably the find consisted of wooden monkey idols."
The grin widens as the Varasian clears his throat and continues, "His last letter was mostly sketches of monkey paws and spoke of dark eyes glaring out from the mists... Even more odd - once he came back here, it is said all the apes in Absalom went insane."
The Szcarni fortune teller begins cutting his Harrow deck idly in one hand as he parrot squawks out "Ill winds blowing... ill winds blowing."
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Silas brow crinkles in contemplation, "Very interesting, it seems we have our cause, now it just remains to see and deal with the effect. Let us try this window first then, it may give us an insight into what has transpired if nothing else."
Silas leads the way to the office window on the north west of the building, peering in the other windows on his way around.
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"Hmm...", Saitama pondering Sterelin's words. "I see Irori guided me here for a reason. What you lack in beefy muscle, you make in brain muscle. Yes, we'll work together very well!", smiles the Tien man.
Looking over to his colleagues at the side of the museum, the priest steps over places an open palm upon the tiefling's chest. "Irori's blessing for your physical success, Silas!"
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"Not that I can see, but the mist is, unsurprisingly, magical I can see it forming gaping mouths. I see no signs of life, but there is a very battered steel cabinet, looks like something was trying to get in, if we are lucky Nigel is in there, but, if so, I do not suggest calling him out without protection. To the front then? I see no advantage in an awkward entry."
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Looking at Wyeth then back at Silas, Marduk holds for a moment.
"Hmm, i don't know what this mist is, but i'm taking a guess what it "could" do.
Let me give an example from own experience.
He thinks back to his very early years back in the city, riding with his father on the cattle-cart.
"You go to a market and work with cows. Until the market starts said cows stand in a small barn. When you enter after it being locked for a certain time, those cows have.....defecated in there. That gives off a foul smell in the air. If the temperature is right, you can see it. A foul odor indeed, trust me. Not good for the early morning nose, i had to throw up the first few times i went there."
He pauses to see if any of his fellows would come to a conclusion with a solution.
"Best way to avoid something bad you can smell or inhale is to not smell or breathe it directly at all. Of course my father was so nice not to tell me this those times. The man came in with a towel before his face."
Marduk stands for a moment, thinking back on the course fate took bringing him from a cattlecart to the temple and here.
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Nodding at Marduk's story, Wyeth reaches behind himself and grabs his cloak. .
"Don't need a towel."
He pulls the lower edge of it across his face below his eyes and ties it off in the back. The result is not unlike a kerchief tied over the face bandit style, but with the excess cloth trailing down over his left shoulder to his back.
"Okay, ready," he says, slightly muffled. Then he points to Sterelin's companion. "Canaries in the mines. Can't we send that in?"
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Just to be sure, Marduk does something similar.
With the discipline one could expect from a monk, he neatly rips off a long piece from the bottom of his cloak. (traveler's outfits have cloaks...) Wrapping it around his face, only his eyes and up are visible.
Though his muffling is less than Wyeth, having left some pocketed space for his jaw.
"Just to be safe.
I cannot learn during my travels if i fall down from poisonous fumes."
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Marduk is slightly surprised by the man's question.
"My goal? I am from Irori's temple. His teaching is one should aim towards self perfection as much as possible. Knowledge is gained with learning, so your capability of dealing with similar situations is easier.
"
"Why, do i look like an infernal lord planning a scheme?"
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Thinking it unwise to answer Marduk's question directly, Wyeth instead says, "Just being sociable." He returns his attention to Silas.
"Have at it. 'Breathe deep the gathering gloom.' Doesn't mean we'll all react the same, though. Me, for some reason I can't be slept. You might be immune to whatever that fog does."
A grin spreads over his face and he laughingly adds, "Dibs on your coin pouch if you fall over dead."