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Bhoors notes the shy Tortle, "Ahh umm hmm. Well then." Bhoors looks around rather awkward. Definitely not a hard six. He listens to the poem. "So poems." His eyes flash with insight. I don't want to hurt this poor thing's feelings. Fish huh.
Bhoors seems to move into a caricature of someone struck with sadness. When the Tortle turns away he puts his thumbs to his eyes to make them look more like he is crying. Clearly nervous he is way off his acting game. He sounds like he is choking up but there might be too much effort for it to be natural. "Did you say fish." He trails off his voice lost in a sucking sniveling sound. "I'm sorry." He chokes another sob. His lower lip quivering those who have been around him for a few days recognize the facial movement he often uses when joking about people crying. "Your poem . . . its . . . lovely." He buries his forehead in his palm. "I'm a . . . a widower." He sniffles, "My wife and I lived in a small village in Amn, have you heard of Amn. We . . .we made our living fishing." He sobs again his shoulders shaking. "You had now way of knowing. I'm sorry." He looks embarrassed and heartsick but trying to hide a smirk. He moves to his clothes and grabs the bundle. He sobs again, "I'm sorry truly you are a lovely turtle woman." He makes a loud sob that ends in a choke and a sniffle.
He moves toward the exit and puts most a minimum of his clothes on and moves to leave. Spotting one of the attractive maidens he tries to regain some dignity, wipes his eyes, "A widower." As he finally makes his way out he casts a fuming glare at Shaldinari.
Davin looks at the man as if he were insane, but has to agree that perhaps a nice massage would go well with the bath, but to get rid of his armor...well...maybe?
"Ummm...thanks. That sounds good, I suppose."
He goes with the attendant.
Hildelfa's heart is clearly shattered, perhaps irreparable evermore. Still, the deception is lost on her, making it easy for her maiden escort to pick up the pieces "I know what you need, a fresh bottle of Ruby Rouge! Girl's night." she declares.
Some of the clean shaven chested hulks about the bath aren't so gullible however, and snicker elbowing each other in the ribs, under the death gaze of the other girls.
The bathing and hedonism continue as long as you like, with only the gentlest hints of where the offering dishes are. They bring in a wine with a certain spice designed to mingle perfectly with the oils you've been lathering all over. Later in the night some of the other guests strike up some conversation "So, big races tomorrow. Who do you have? Banana Candy? Mountain Thunder?"
The other scoffs "Ha. Mountain Thunder? That aging dimetrodon can nary stand."
A third intones "Dinosaur races are boring, and you are both ugly. I prefer the arena. Real combat!"
The other laugh "I wonder what the Grand Prize of the merchant prince is this time?" they start speculating about exotic gifts that exist only in dreams.
Realizing that giving makeovers is a form of worship in this place, Spike let’s the attendants do whatever they think is best with his appearance. He would never stand in the way of their approach to showing devotion to their god.
At the Thundering Lizard, Nella ensures that all of the eggs are receiving the proper temperature range. She makes cooing and growling noises over them and curls up next to them for a brief nap. Then she heads downstairs for a meal in the tavern. She sits chewing slowly and staring off into space with a strange serenity on her face.
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"Ah, now this is livin'. Bit higher, please, lass, there yeh go. Prosthetic beard? No, no, none o' that. I've gotten used ta this. Reminds me what's important! Plus then I wouldn't be the Halfbeard, now would I? Nothin' special about Dwalar Fullbeard!"
Dwalar joins in the sniggering as Bhoors flounders in his attempts to navigate being with the Tortle woman. "Remind me never ta get on that elf woman's bad side," the dwarf says in Shaldinari's hearing. "No tellin' what she might do ta me."
Later, he joins in the conversation with the guests. "I ran in one o' them races once. Never again, though, I tell yeh that! Near broke me tailbone gettin' thrown off the thing when we finished!" He roars with laughter.
Bhoors gets dressed and makes his way to the Thundering Lizard. He is noticeably distraught muttering to himself. He slightly acknowledges Nella as he plops down in the chair. "Can't belive . . . a turtle bah women." He looks up at Nella I never figured if you read minds or just project thoughts. I knda hope you don't read them. Do You?
He frustratedly smiles, "How's the dino brood?"He flags a server and orders a drink. "Something strong, anything that cures b!+ch."
Nella nods at Bhoors in acknowledgement of his entry. She glances quickly around to see if anyone noticed his mention of the eggs.
Nella speaks into your mind.They are well but do not advertise their presence. The residents of this place have showed their willingness to exploit things beyond their appreciation or understanding, including these very creatures.
In a casual tone and noting the discomfort on Bhoors face, Nella says So the temple was not as relaxing as desired?
Shaldinari follows the attendants through the temple, unabashed by the surroundings. Upon reaching the baths, she hands her gear over to the attendants and slips into the cooling, revitalizing waters, a welcome relief from the humidity and heat of the jungle and city.
Lounging with her head just about the surface of the water, she watches with curiosity and humor dancing in her eyes as Bhoors struggles to extricate himself from the arms of his new found admirer. Chuckling softly she shakes her head at the bard's clumsy story and attempt to let the Tortle down easily. Catching the bard's glare as he nearly dashes for the exit, her slender hand offers a friendly wave to the departing performer.
After finishing her bath and indulging is her own welcome massage, she recovers her clothes and possessions and joins Dwalar and the others for a glass of the offered wine.
Inspired by the luxurious and relaxing atmosphere, she pulls out a block of wood and begins to carve a likeness of Sune as portrayed in the temple while listening to the conversation about the races.
Pleased with her work by the end of the evening, she offers the small carving as an additional gift to the temple.
As the conversation and evening winds down, she leans toward Spike and asks quietly, "Didn't your contact have something connected to the races? Perhaps tomorrow would be a good time for all of us to explore that opportunity?"
Davin enjoys the bath and rubdown, then gathers up his equipment and, instead of donning his armor, carries it. He enters the Thundering Lizard and drops the pile of iron on the floor.
"Anyone know a good armorer? I am thinking of trying to find something a little lighter to wear in this climate."
In a casual tone and noting the discomfort on Bhoors face, Nella says So the temple was not as relaxing as desired?
Bhoors turns to look at Nella, "What's that. Oh I am sure that most of our number will have enjoyed the temple." He holds up a hand like he speaking discretely but doesn't really lower his voice, "Well enjoy it till they get the 'Suneite itch'." He chuckles after using a northern colloquialism for a number of venereal diseases.
One of the gentlemen nearby rubs his chin at Davin's question, taking a glance back at the armor drying "Listen, northerner, your problem isnt the mail...mail's best down here, plenty of holes for the breeze. Your problem is your doublet is too thick, you want it thin as you can stand...the metal actually pulls heat out of your body if it can get close enough. Then all you have to worry about is the scorching light between rains, that's where a good gambeson can save you. But again, thins the win...you want the breeze to come through but not the light. Can point you to a master, Zhanthi her name..."
Another adds "Wise points there. But if you've the coin and feel adventurous, dinosaur bone is best in the jungle. Strong as plate but doesn't pick up the heat a bit, find a smooth enough piece and wear it on your bare skin...you become the bones new flesh..."
Nella nods at Davin as he enters and gestures that he is welcome at their table, whenever his armor business concludes. She turns back to Bhoors.
I see.
A very slight, half-smile twists the corner of her lips.
Bhoors takes his drink, "Not me though I ah avoided such pursuits." He seems to settle in and calm down a bit.
"Davin!" He welcomes the man to the table.
"Armor huh." Bhoors thinks a moment if he remember seeing a makers mark on his own leather armor. "Is there a mark back here." He leans over pulling out the back of his armor to give Davin a look if there is a stamp in the leather. "I won it playing dice with some lads day we got off the ship." He shrugs, "I think its local."
Bhoors enjoys a meal and talking with the others. After eating he pulls out his pawn shop lute. Tuning it as a bit as he talks with the others.
Bhoors chuckles at the idea of wearing dinosaur bones. "Dinosaur bone armor that just sounds awesome." He asks those who are sharing about the armor. [b]"Dinosaurs the're big business round here. I heard something about a race tomorrow. I have never seen such a thing. I have heard stories. What's it like?"/b]
Bhoors' observer, the symbol is that of an inverted diamond containing a fist on fire: the Flaming Fist. Those of the Sword Coast know the Fist to be the preeminent mercenary company, fiercely loyal to Baldur's Gate. You've heard they run the nearby Fort Beluarian, which is the one place to obtain the proper paperwork to explore the deepest jungles.
A dwarven prostitute takes a break kissing her halfelf patron to give her opinion "Oh, I love the races! Bloodsport, really. Now, you got your weekly race through the streets, 300 ft sprint. Theres betting up to 500 gp. Now, in a day race ye got 'cher 2 legged race, 4 legged race and yer unchained. The unchained the dinos can attack each other. Big Honkers me fav, young T-rex, he be..."
A man calls out from across the room "Noooooo, shut up, woman. Everyone knows that, the man means the special events. Yer Grand Colosseum, like tomorrow, or the ribbon match with the flyers..."
"No one tells me to shut up!" she shouts, tossing a bread bowl full of scalding hot stew his way to much laughter.
Spike returns from the temple hearing the Dwarven woman talking about the coliseum. Excuse me, but what exactly is the prize for the even to be held in the coliseum tomorrow?
Nella speaks into the minds of her three companions who are present in turn.
The wind tells me it may serve us best to seek further information in the morning from Soggy Wren before we pursue this race. But let us hear more about it from these folk first.
Davin thanks the patrons for their suggestions about his armor as well as Bhoors. He nods to Nella as he "hears" her voice in his head.
"I think I will go and see this Mistress Zhanthi and see what she might suggest. I will see you all later", and he gives a wink to Nella as he gathers up his armor and heads out.
Spike lets out a sigh of relief when he hears Nella's voice. The longer he can put off dealing with the Zhentarim the better.
Nella nods appreciatively at Davin as he heads out.
Take care. This is a strange and deadly place.
Nella turns to the man across the room. She hops down from her chair to stomp lightly and move closer.
What are these special events?
Spike, they know for sure a prize of 60 gold, along with a collection of perfumes and poultices. But there is also talk of a special item straight from Kwayothe, one of the city's merchant princes. The other day, the dwarf called it "the Grand Prize of the Oracle" and hinted that Pock Mocked Po knew more about it.
Bjorn, they mentioned 'through the streets' implying the races were actually on the normal streets of the city. Walking around the past few days, you have seen the courses built along side the major walkways. Some have walled sections to protect crowds, etc.
Davin, you track down Zhanthi's shop which is just nearby. She picks out a few fabrics and tailors them to you, for replacing your usual doublet and gambeson. As soon as you step back outside, you can instantly tell the difference...the metal chain links feel ice cold and the slightest breeze cuts down to your flesh like a stilleto. For the fabrics and alterations she charges 15 gp. The colors of the gambeson are much more vibrant than you are used to, like tropical flowers.
All, they go on about the special events "Well, like the upcoming games, theres a gladiatorial arena match after the race. That takes place within the coliseum itself. Then like a few weeks ago, there were the pteranodon ribbon snatches...thats where you ride a flying dinosaur and try to get the most ribbons. They also had some kind of diving contest out at sea, but I didnt watch that leg."
She looks over Dwalar judiciously "...wait a minute, I remember that half beard, you were in that! Youre a champion of the Na N’buso’s Haka!"
Bhoors notes Dwalar's familiarity with the races. "Tell us of it. What's it like."
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The merchant princes can create or alter laws by decree as they see fit, and judges are expected to interpret laws freely but wisely. Such a system would seem to invite abuse and bribery, but the Chultan courts are surprisingly free of corruption.
Slavery isn’t illegal in Port Nyanzaru, but it’s frowned upon, and the merchant princes won’t do business with slavers or show them any legal favor.
Murder is illegal, but “sanctions” — legal permission to kill someone or to have someone killed — can be purchased from the merchant prince Jessamine. The price depends on the prominence of the intended victim, the reason for the sanction, and the wealth of the purchaser. The minimum price possible is 150 gp; the maximum is limitless. The availability of sanctions doesn’t mean they’re common — it’s rare for more than six to be sold in a year. That has less to do with price than with the fact that if word gets out who purchased a sanction, nothing can stop the friends of the victim from sanctioning the original purchaser.
Despite their high ambition, the merchant princes’ power is entirely contained in the city. Elsewhere, Chult is ruled by the red law of tooth and claw. An individual is either predator or prey, and the predator might be a mob of undead, a ravenous allosaurus, a grung hunting party, Jahakan pirates, or a Flaming Fist patrol.
Chultans are the human natives of Chult. They have dark skin, black hair, and a rich culture. Driven out of the jungle by monsters and undead, they took refuge behind the stout walls of Port Nyanzaru, gave up their dynasties, and united to become a mercantile power in the southern ocean, eager to do business with anyone who visits their perilous land. A few Chultans migrated northward and established outposts in distant cities such as Athkatla, Baldur’s Gate, Calimport, Memnon, and Zazesspur.
The lines of kings and queens that once held political sway throughout Chult have been mostly wiped out by time, war, calamity, and misfortune. They’ve been replaced by Chultan merchant princes who learned the art and craft of trading from Amnian and Tethyrian profiteers, and who now use their wealth to forge profitable alliances and to steer the fate of their frontier realm.
Chultans dress in light, colorful clothing appropriate for the tropical climate. They trade in gold, gemstones, jewelry, textiles, spices, rare herbs, ivory, wood, unrefined metal ore, and other commodities plucked and plundered from the jungles, valleys, and mountains of Chult. Among themselves, all Chultans still speak their own tribal languages (a mix of exhaled and inhaled vowels, consonants, and tongue clicks), but any who deal regularly with foreigners also speak Common fluently, often with a heavy, characteristic accent.
Chultans in Port Nyanzaru seldom don armor because of the climate, but large, colorful shields made from toughened dinosaur hide are ubiquitous. These shields are called hlang and function as ordinary shields. In melee, they favor the traditional yklwa (pronounced YICK-ul-wah), a short, broad-bladed, one-handed, spear-like weapon. For more information about the yklwa.
When the morning comes, Nella comes down to the tavern for breakfast. She then looks around at her companions.
Let us speak to this Wren and know the nature of our work.
Unless someone objects, she begins striding out of the tavern toward Soggy Wren's.
After a night of rest and meditation, Shaldinari cheerfully joins the others in the common room. Nodding at Nella's suggestion she follows the halfling to Soggy Wren's.
Spike is just really happy not to be doing the race or visiting Pock Marked Poe. He follows Nella.
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"Well, it went like this," Dwalar begins, clearly glad for the opportunity to recount the tale. "First there was a chariot-type race. Mine didn't start goin' right away, because someone had sabotaged it! But I told them dinosaurs that they'd better get me ta the finish anyway, or they'd have me ta answer to, an' they got goin' in a hurry! Finished at the front, I did!
"Then there was this flyin' part-- it was a sorta relay thing, yeh see. Yeh had ta climb onta these flyin' type dinos, an' grab some rings that were set out. The others got their rings in a hurry, but wouldn't yeh know it, mine kept jumpin' around on their own. Couldn't grab any! Fortunately it's a team race, an' the rest o' me team got enough ta move on ta the next part.
"After that was this divin' sorta event, where there were bricks at the bottom o' the sea an' we had ta dive down an' get 'em. Well I'm not much fer divin' meself, so the others took ta the water an' me an' one other helped pull 'em back up. Course that was when the sea monster attacked-- left the other teams alone, yeh see, but went straight for us! I beat 'im back with me whip, the one I kept from the last event, cause we weren't allowed any other weapons. Bought me friends enough time ta bring up all the bricks an' keep goin'!
"The last part was this team race thing, with everyone on the back o' the same huge beast. So there we were, tearin' through the streets clingin' fer dear life onta this giant dino. One o' the other teams couldn't handle it, an' fell behind, so it was just us an' one other. Then, suddenly, someone from that other team puts some kinda hex on our ride! So it starts buckin' an' rearin', an' everybody else gets thrown off its back!" Dwalar thumps his chest proudly. "Cept me. I grabbed the thing by its collar at the last second, an' pulled meself back onta its back. If yeh've never tried ta steer a creature that's also tryin' ta kill yeh, well, it's not easy, I tell yeh that! But I figured it out an' rammed this lumbering hulk straight inta the path o' those cheatin' finger-wagglers, an' won the race!
"An' when I crossed the finish line, I forgot ta keep me grip, an' the beast bucked one last time. Fell right on me rump!" Dwalar's belly shakes with laughter. (You all get the distinct impression that parts of the story were made up, but Dwalar waves off any objections with comments like "Nah, it's true!" or "Well this one musta been different" or "Eh, yeh couldn't see it from the stands.")
"Well, it went like this," Dwalar begins, clearly glad for the opportunity to recount the tale. "First there was a chariot-type race. Mine didn't start goin' right away, because someone had sabotaged it! But I told them dinosaurs that they'd better get me ta the finish anyway, or they'd have me ta answer to, an' they got goin' in a hurry! Finished at the front, I did!
"Then there was this flyin' part-- it was a sorta relay thing, yeh see. Yeh had ta climb onta these flyin' type dinos, an' grab some rings that were set out. The others got their rings in a hurry, but wouldn't yeh know it, mine kept jumpin' around on their own. Couldn't grab any! Fortunately it's a team race, an' the rest o' me team got enough ta move on ta the next part.
"After that was this divin' sorta event, where there were bricks at the bottom o' the sea an' we had ta dive down an' get 'em. Well I'm not much fer divin' meself, so the others took ta the water an' me an' one other helped pull 'em back up. Course that was when the sea monster attacked-- left the other teams alone, yeh see, but went straight for us! I beat 'im back with me whip, the one I kept from the last event, cause we weren't allowed any other weapons. Bought me friends enough time ta bring up all the bricks an' keep goin'!
"The last part was this team race thing, with everyone on the back o' the same huge beast. So there we were, tearin' through the streets clingin' fer dear life onta this giant dino. One o' the other teams couldn't handle it, an' fell behind, so it was just us an' one other. Then, suddenly, someone from that other team puts some kinda hex on our ride! So it starts buckin' an' rearin', an' everybody else gets thrown off its back!" Dwalar thumps his chest proudly. "Cept me. I grabbed the thing by its collar at the last second, an' pulled meself back onta its back. If yeh've never tried ta steer a creature that's also tryin' ta kill yeh, well, it's not easy, I tell yeh that! But I figured it out an' rammed...
Bhoors listens laughing and enjoying the tale. When a quiet moment arises. Bhoors talks softly to the dwarf, "You have been in these parts before. Tell me the Tabaxi we dealth with regarding the smugglers mentioned a Yeptka or something society. I wanted to know a little about them."
Before turning in Bhoors pulls the dwarf aside I found this the other day. "I think its a mark of the Yeptka we were speaking of."
In his new doublet under his chain shirt, Davin feels much cooler and comfortable moving around the town.
"This is wonderful! I actually feel cool and comfortable for the first time since I arrived in this town. Even the colours are great, don't you agree?", he asks the rest of the party.
When the morning comes, Nella comes down to the tavern for breakfast. She then looks around at her companions.
Let us speak to this Wren and know the nature of our work.
Unless someone objects, she begins striding out of the tavern toward Soggy Wren's.
Bhoors nods, "Sounds like a plan."
Nella smiles appreciatively at Dwalar's story. She continues striding with determination toward Soggy Wren's. When asked her opinion on Davin's new attire, she nods politely and smiles at his obvious satisfaction.
The Red Bazaar dominates the area east of the bridge between the Grand Colosseum and the Hall of Gold. Broad rows of colorful merchant stands span across the area, many selling various meats, produce, and trade goods. Not far to the south, you arrive at Kaya’s House of Repose, one of the more prominent inns for travelers looking for a bit more opulence, as well as the last rumored location of your contact.
Inside, its early enough in the morning that even the hardiest of drinkers has succumbed to sleep. The elven barkeeper is even holding one eye open slouched in the corner. When asked about Soggy Wren, the suspected Harpers contact, she rolls her eyes and points to a human snooring in a puddle of his own vomit at a mostly destroyed table at the center of the establishment.
The Red Bazaar dominates the area east of the bridge between the Grand Colosseum and the Hall of Gold. Broad rows of colorful merchant stands span across the area, many selling various meats, produce, and trade goods. Not far to the south, you arrive at Kaya’s House of Repose, one of the more prominent inns for travelers looking for a bit more opulence, as well as the last rumored location of your contact.
Bhoors moves through the throng of people. He passes closely someone who looks rich and petty. He aims for interesting things to pilfer.
Inside, its early enough in the morning that even the hardiest of drinkers has succumbed to sleep. The elven barkeeper is even holding one eye open slouched in the corner. When asked about Soggy Wren, the suspected Harpers contact, she rolls her eyes and points to a human snooring in a puddle of his own vomit at a mostly destroyed table at the center of the establishment.
"I thought this was supposed to be the quiet establishment."
Nella crosses the room and attempts to politely awaken the drunk man with a hand on his shoulder. Should that fail, she shouts into his mind.
Wake up! You have business at hand!
His eyes bolt awake and he stands up incredibly fast, before instantly slouching back into his seat and polishing off the leftover warm beer in front of him "...itsh biziness...its business time? *hic* Whosh said dat...little mite in me ear..." he drills into his ear hole with a finger before belching.
"Seems like he might need a little more 'vigorous' attempt at waking."
Looking around, the archer tries to find a pitcher that he can fill (or is already filled) with water. He then will dump it on the drunk.
His eyes go wide "Holy s##@! Thats some vim *hic* some vim right there...alright Im listening. Just kidding, Im not listening. Wench! Coffee and gin! Ok. What is it? Hell man, that gambeson is nice. I need to learn to rock that style and isfafhh...." he trails off "Wench! Well, you are here, after all. Lets have a drink together."