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The Heart of Wickedness


BlueSlime

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Syndra Silvane looks over the adventuring party that had been assembled in her high class estate overlooking the Dolphin Bridge in Neverwinter. An aging mage with her best adventuring days well behind her, Silvane had long ago left behind the reckless and dangerous dungeon delving profession and used her gains to become a successful merchant. Unfortunately for her, she, like so many others in the adventuring community, had been afflicted by the Death Curse. Anyone who had ever been killed and raised from death through magic was now experiencing an unstoppable decay. To hide this, Silvane has taken to wearing a silver mask and covering herself up in bundled, hooded robes. Her voice is so raspy that it would be hard to determine her gender if it wasn't already known.

"All attempts to divine the source of this curse by magical means have been thwarted, but I have contacts with a knowledgeable organization. We have discovered that souls are being stolen all over the world. Anyone who dies, or who has ever died and been raised, is being pulled inexorably to the same destination. That destination, I believe, is somewhere in the jungles of Chult. It is a land that I have come to know in the past few years through overseas trade. At least, I know Port Nyanzaru well enough that I can use my magic to teleport us there. Somewhere in Chult, my contacts say that there is an artifact called the Soulmonger. It is what is collecting the souls. It is what must be destroyed."

Karl Landvik, the famous expedition planner and longtime contemporary of Silvane, was also suffering from this curse. He wrapped himself in a headscarf, but wore no mask, allowing his pale and ashen flesh, with terrible red sores and dying flesh being exposed around his bloodshot eyes. It was this curse that had brought him to Silvane today, along with the small band of adventurers beside him.

"Everyday, the curse drains a little bit more life out of us," Karl rasped in concurrence. "But it's not just a problem for those with the Death Curse. Anyone who dies is having their soul captured, no doubt for some dark purpose. Even the gods seem powerless to intervene, for no cleric spell can overcome the effects. whoever is behind this Soulmonger must be stopped. I only wish we had come to this conclusion and sent out adventuring parties sooner." The older explorer sighs heavily, then wheezes into a handkerchief, coughing up something vile.

Silvane shook her head.

"I *have* sent out other adventuring parties. I haven't heard back from them. Hopefully, you will succeed where they have failed. Karl and I have pooled our resources. We've given your party navigator the best map of the Continent we can give you, but the reality is, you'll have to do most of the inland exploring yourselves. The jungle is an unforgiving place. Wild beasts, goblin tribes, cannibals, and most certainly the undead plague it. Not to mention that it is vast wilderness, and you will need water and food rations well stocked in order to survive. The plantlife, the insects, and various diseases can also be deadly. But if you succeed, I'll make certain that you are all compensated appropriately. I have money enough, but you may prefer some of the rare magic items that I have housed in my collection. If you are successful in saving my life, then you can have your pick."

After any lingering questions, Silvane stood up and looked at everyone. They had been asked to arrive in their gear, ready for travel. And they all were, at least well enough for typical road travel. They may decide that they needed more equipment once they got to Chult - which would be in a matter of moments. The wizard had drawn a sigil on the floor in the next room, and her ritual casting of a teleport circle was prepared. With an extended invocation, Silvane and the adventuring party were whisked away across miles and miles of land and sea.

~~~~
== DAY 1 ==
The adventuring party appeared once more, now in a tropical city under a blazing sun. The familiar sounds of a harbor - the 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 mixes with the wharf-side smells of fish, tar, and canvas. Beyond all of this, the city (Port Nyanzaru) seems like an explosion of color compared to Neverwinter.

The buildings are painted in bright shades of blue, green, orange and salmon pink. Some 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. Minstrils in bright clothing adorned with feathers and shells perform on street corners. Multicolored pennants and sun awnings flutter atop the city walls. A crowd of children dressed in capes and feathered hats race past the group, squealing in delighted terror as a street performer costumed as a big-toothed lizard stoms and roars behind them. The whole city appears to be bustling, sweating, laughing, swearing and singing.

Along the piers behind them, the party saw trade ships with bright billowing sails being unloaded by intricate pulley systems, with their wears being settled onto the backs of gigantic lizard beasts of various size and descriptions, which the visitors had never seen before in their lives. This place truly seemed otherworldly.

"I recommend you find lodging while you remain in the city," Syndra said. "The city has two inns of good repute. The Thundering Lizard is cheaper, larger, and more raucous, but it's certainly a place for travelers and gossip. If you're willing to spend the coin, Kaya's House of Repose is best for a good night's sleep. Both are located near the Red Bazaar, which is the place where most locals go to buy and sell goods. I intend to stay with one of the seven Merchant Princes. Wakanga O'tamu is the prince associated with lore and magic item sales. He and I have a good relationship, and his villa will be as good a place as any to rest and wait for either death or salvation. You had all better take care. Be swift, but be safe. You'll do no one any good if you rot in an unmarked grave in the jungle."
 
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Hafnium

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Re: The Heart of Wickedness

Ditte wore a little smile as the group's benefactor appraised them of the situation. It wasn't an expression really fitting for the situation -- although it didn't even come close to reaching her eyes -- but she wore it nonetheless, because she was less present in mind than body.

Mentally she was too busy musing on the absurdity of the briefing to focus on much more than the most pertinent details. And their employer was offering plenty of absurdity. Their little gathering of perfectly mundane man and women was apparently going to just trot on over to a deadly jungle continent halfway across the world and then proceed to uncover the hidden culprit behind a grand scheme which even the gods had seemingly been incapable of stopping. Oh, and then there were apparently several adventuring parties sent before their group. Probably even groups of professional adventurers armed to the teeth with enchanted equipment who were likely now naked and rotting in the humidity of the jungle, stripped clean of all their belongings, even as this meeting took place. But it was okay! This group which was not only not the B team, or the C team for that matter, but apparently the Z team was going to be the one that made it the distance!

Right, and if her fellow 'adventurers' believed that, she'd have to sell them her ancestral family bridge on the Moonshae Isles. Surely they'd help her out and take it off her hands when she informed them that she was actually a troll who simply hadn't wanted to take up the family business, and had chosen to become a mercenary instead.

But despite all Ditte's doubting, she had no questions or complaints to raise. She had no concerns at all, really. This was going to be horrendously dangerous and probably outright impossible, sure, but it was no more dangerous than charging into pitched warfare with spells flying around heedless of what they might incinerate. The difference here was the possibility of looting a mostly unexplored jungle potentially filled to the brim with valuable things which could surely be exchanged into cold, hard coins, and doing so with a group, equipment, and travel paid for in large part by someone else.

As far as she was concerned, the whole thing was simple. They just needed to wander around for a few weeks, with her and the other hired muscle keeping the less martial members of the group out of trouble, until their benefactor finished falling apart. After that, she could call the whole thing a wash and scurry on back to town with whatever she'd managed to gather in hand. Then she'd liquidate it all, take her new pile of money, and go home. Although that wasn't to say that she wasn't going to give the whole "saving the souls of the dying" thing her earnest best either. She was a mercenary of her word, after all. Plus, on the off chance that they somehow succeeded at this quest which was clearly above all their heads, all the better for her purse! She'd already spelled out in her contract that she'd be relieving her employer of a sizable portion of the woman's wealth if the group was successful. A win-win, in her book.

Doom and gloom about the whole end of resurrection magic and any possibility of seeing the afterlife aside, she was actually feeling pretty good about the coming adventure. So much so that, when the time came to make their extremely brief hop across the world, her smile widened just a little bit further.

~~~~

As a mercenary, Ditte had actually done a fair amount of traveling, albeit never in such a dramatic manner nor for such ostentatious purposes. She couldn't be unimpressed, but at the same time she was able to keep herself from openly gawking even as she tried to reorient herself after the jarring experience of going from indoors to the middle of a city street in about the blink of an eye.

The contrasts between Nyanzaru and the cities of her homeland were numerous. The colorful nature of its decorations in particular stood out to Ditte even more than the exotic giant lizards. She appreciated that aspect of the port city as a form of wealth that she didn't often see up north. At the same time though, she found familiarity in the nature of city life itself, the noises, sights, and smells of children playing in the street and people going about their daily business in order to keep themselves fed and sheltered. Even so far away, that sort of thing changed very little between cities. The thought helped to keep her mind focused on business rather than being a tourist.

That, combined with their benefactor's continued explanation, returned Ditte's thoughts to the ever-important goal of acquiring wealth. Once the rotting woman was finished speaking, the mercenary would, while still wearing a disingenuous grin, chime in with her own opinion on what the group might consider doing. "Full disclosure: I'm no expert explorer myself, nor do I have any experience at all when it comes to saving all the world's souls from an evil chamber pot or what have you, but once we've secured lodging and supplies for our grand adventure perhaps we ought to consider seeking information on what became of our predecessors? It's possible that we might find them, and with them some leads they managed to gather of which we might take advantage. Just a thought," she suggested aloud. Silently, however, she calculated the odds that the bodies of one of the adventurers might still have some magical trinket worth a king's castle. Wild beasts surely wouldn't eat magical metal along with the flesh, right?
 
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Tassadar

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Re: The Heart of Wickedness

Horas teetered back and forth on the heels of his feet as Syndra finally began to speak. Having been pacing up until the masked woman finally began to explain what they were here for, the burly, heavily muscled barbarian would cross his arms and wait impatiently for her explanation to play out. The cloying foulness of the decaying woman disgusted him, but he kept the feeling from his expression with a simple frown as she spoke. As she explained however, the man's expression turned into a grin once the nature of her affliction - and that of numerous others - became clear.

Remaining silent through his newest employer's explanation, Horas would have no questions, though he would opt to say something before they departed; "Treasures and trinkets are one thing, to be sure... But yeh didn't say we'd be fightin' somethin like this! They say no man can defeat death... But this is as close as one could ask for, eh? Death comin back to claim those who've met it before! Think o' the legend for whoever defeats THAT!"

Enthusiasm aside, Horas would glare warily at the circle that the woman drew on the floor for a moment before stepping into it, and moments later everything from their surroundings to the very air around them seemed to have changed. The redheaded warrior's brow wrinkled at the cloying wetness in the air, the heat and humidity causing him to sweat almost immediately. "Bloody heat... Wait... What in seven hells is that!?"

The barbarian's vision had drifted over the various peoples, clad in colorful clothing and surrounded by needlessly colorful buildings. It was all pretty, to be sure, but seemed so wasteful and unnecessary to his mind, and the manner of speaking of the locals grated at him far more than it should. The smells were nice enough, at least, and the simplistic and familiar elements of the harbor offered a portion of comfort... Right up until he noticed the massive reptilian creatures seemingly being used as beasts of burden. He gaped in confused awe at the nearest of the creatures for a moment only to move on and repeat the gesture at the next, and as such he missed the first part of his patron's suggestion.

"Right," he replied simply once she had finished off telling them where she might be found. "I don't plan on gettin meself killed. There's glory to be had!" The first of his companions - a small group of strangers - to speak up with a suggestion earned a nod of agreement. "The Thundering Lizard sounds like the place to be lookin fer that sort," Horas replied to Ditte, "'ts where I'd be stayin if I were holdin' enough coin to bother with a room and drink. Might find ourselves somethin of a guide too. I can make it through the wilderness well enough on my own, but I'd rather get an idea of what to worry about from a local before I try goin through the bush 'round 'ere."
 
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BlueSlime

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Re: The Heart of Wickedness

As Syndra left the group of four... the fighter, Ditte, the northern warrior, Horas, the expedition leader, Katarina, and the elven priestess of Sune, Elethynn; across the main causeway near the docks approached a young woman, with flowing blonde hair and eyes that were almost burgandy in colour. She was dressed in plain but colorful clothes that were in line with the local culture. Syndra had mentioned that a fifth member of the expedition, a young woman named Carla, would be waiting for them. Perhaps this was her?

A bell tolled over the city, coming from the bell tower of the Temple of Gond. A great cheer rose across the city, but primarily from the rising spires directly south and east of them, upon a large escarpment with colorful buildings build upon it at every level. A grand staircase of elaborate, expensive serpentine and marble led up the slope, where two massive buildings, one a great dome and the other a walled colisseum structure dominated the immediate view. The large portion of cheering seemed to be concentrated in this latter structure. And yet, all around them, local Chultans with their ebony skin, seemed to turn their heads and give cheers in their local dialect, and in a flash, a stream of children all wearing some bright, aqua blue tunics and dresswear, with capes of bright blue and green feathers came streaming down the street in a wave, trailing a banner with silver painted fish upon it.

"This year for certain! This year for certain! Savras has seen it!" The oldest of the children, the one holding the banner, said in common as he led the charge.

While this charming and novel display occurred, those of the party who looked toward the harbor would see another strange sight. A large ship clad on the outside in black iron, was making its way through the waters of the inner harbor. Stacks of metal cylinders stuck out the top of this ship, in addition to large soot-stained sails. The cylinders seemed to be belching crude, acrid smoke that marred the clean air of the rest of the harbor. Aboard its deck, viewers could make out hobgoblins and darkclad humans moving about. At the prow of the ship was an imposing and bulky figure, a dragonborn with white scales, immensely broad in every sense, and wearing a large, heavy fur cloak held together with a chain.

The ship was coming towards the pier where the party stood. Chultan guards, led by a dragonborn in white robes with golden scales, moved down the street to await this behemoth as it sought to dock, though it would be a minute or so before this occurred.
 
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GargantuaBlarg

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Re: The Heart of Wickedness

Carla popped up more or less from behind a basket sheltered by an awning, where she'd been trying to hide from the heat of the sun. Approaching the group, she waved hello, and introduced herself - her accent very plainly placing her as a citizen of Neverwinter. She was clothed in a fairly plain dress, though it was accented with a few strips of local cloth, the dye much brighter and far less faded from wash and sun, including a scarf tied around her hair long, blonde hair. The ties on the neck of her blouse were loose, and she was very definitely sweating with the heat.

"You must be Plan Z--I mean, uh, Syndra's folks, right?" She asked, before dipping into a (somewhat awkward) curtsy. "Ahh, I'm Carla. I was with the group that came before, but I ended up getting separated Pleased to meet you."
 

Tiffanian

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Re: The Heart of Wickedness

Elethynn stood at the side of her apparent new companions as her nominal employer explained the adventure that the lot of them were to go on together, though she was already well aware of the reasoning. Some manner of curse that trapped the souls of the dead and was slowly killing all who had been brought back from the dead. Rather than listen to Silvane and Landvik talk she idly rubbed the holy symbol that hung around her neck, the proof of her being a priestess of Sune (albeit a relatively young and new one) and thought of the one who had given it to her. The man who had converted her to her religion, who had shown her her own potential. The only man she had ever really loved... currently suffering from much the same curse as her employers. She would have needed no promise of gold or treasure to undertake this journey, but of course the gold didn't hurt. Apparently it was to be a dangerous mission, one that many had already failed at. That was fine. An enormous jungle full of diseases and goblins and the undead would be a fitting test for her burgeoning powers and faith, after all. They moved to a different room once Silvane had finished with her explanation, one with a teleportation circle already drawn into the floor. The jungles of Chult... A quick silent prayer and a moment to focus and the elf was ready.

In an instant they were all at their destination, a sparkling and beautiful port town. The air felt almost like warm soup, the sun shining brightly and hotly down on the party. Elethynn had come prepared, not for combat with enemies just yet, but for this brutal heat; the curvy, dark-skinned elf was wearing a flowing robe that was so thin as to be translucent, only just enough worn beneath it to preserve some small amount of modesty in the case that someone might object to the sight of nudity. Strange in the north, it felt quite good here in the tropics, and she had her armor and things packed well enough to carry at her side.

The place was immediately charming to Elethynn, with its bustling and colorful streets, its dark-skinned and beautiful people, the joyful play of its children seemingly everywhere. There were even massive... reptilian... what were those? The elf had not a clue, she had seen nothing quite like them before. They were being used like one might use an ox or a horse up north, carting around huge loads of goods to and from the harbor. But best of all there was a temple dedicated to Sune in town, a place where she could rest and worship among her own in peace for as long as she stayed. As such the inns held no sway for her, regardless of any information might be gleaned from them.

She listened to the others say their piece before speaking up in a voice that could only be described as sultry, saying "there's a temple of Sune, of whom I am a priestess, in this city. I intend to stay there while we're in town. I'll be sure to ask around for information while I'm there. And if any of you would like to join me in rest and in worship, I'll surely put in a good word for you." The last bit was seemingly directed mostly at the sole man in the group; an absolute beast of a man, muscled to a degree that Elethynn had rarely seen before and fit to an extreme. Though the others were pretty enough, especially the one who called herself Katarina, the barbarian in particular caught her eye as one she might like to spend some time with before traipsing about the jungle.
 

Tassadar

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Re: The Heart of Wickedness

"Well what's all this then?" Horas remarked lightly as he watched the crowd of children bearing colorful adornments ran by shouting that someone named Savra had seen something. His attention was soon claimed, however, by strange vessel appear in the harbor, and his expression immediately soured as he took a closer look at its crew. The unnaturally foul airs billowing from the hulking, metal-clad ship were unpleasant enough, but the sight of hobgoblins making up a sizable portion of the crew immediately put him on edge as none of the oddly colorful things had. The appearance of another of the lizard-like people to meet the pale scaled behemoth apparently captaining the ugly vessel did little to reassure him, and he subtly reached for the claymore hanging over his back.

Luckily the appearance of another girl - apparently to join their party - distracted him from the arrival of the massive ship. "Plan Z?" He grunted in displeasure, before adding more evenly; "aye, we're the next bunch she's hired to try and deal with Death." He paused to look the mousy young girl up and down, frowning, but then simply shrugged and added; "Well, s'long as you don't get separated from us when we're out in the jungle, yeh oughta be fine lass."

After that, however, the announcement of their elven companion caused him to smirk. He had quite shamelessly taken to admiring her when something else wasn't taking up his attention while waiting for Syndra to explain what they'd been called for. She certainly had a body worth admiring, and didn't seem to mind showing it off. The explanation of her deity of choice did much to explain her choice of garb, and the implied invitation didn't bother him in the slightest. "Might just take yeh up on that," he replied casually, "would be nice to have a proper bed fer once, especially since we won't be havin' any o' those for a while. Gotta see to business before pleasure though. Meet ya there once... Uh... Actually, I 'spose we ain't really shared our names yet, aye? I'm Horas! Horas McLianain of the CLAN McLianain! Slayer o' fools and warmer o' lovely women's beds! At the lot o' ye's service!" The barbarian gave a dramatic sweeping bow before straightening with a wide, boyishly jovial grin on his face.
 

Hafnium

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Re: The Heart of Wickedness

Even their apparent last group member's admission that they actually were plan Z wasn't enough to wipe away Ditte's insufferable smugness at having been correct. Or her joy at realizing that they might have a direct link to what had become of plan Y and all their precious valuables.

When it apparently became time for everyone to introduce themselves and discuss their lodgings, she was all too happy to chime in again. "Yesss... I assure you that the pleasure is mine, Carla," she replied to the other woman with an unintentionally predatory grin. She took her overly long bidenhander into her left hand, propping it on the ground by the tip of its leather-wrapped blade as she gave a little bow toward the group in general accompanied by a grandiose gesture toward herself with her right hand before introducing herself. "My name is Ditte. Ditte Brightwood. I'm something of a freelancer specializing in delivering just-in-time solutions involving steel-based implements. Or a sellsword, if you want to be boring about it."

"And I'm more of a Waukeen woman, myself," she continued as she straightened, still grinning. "I suspect they won't let me sleep in the vaults though, so I think I'll stick with The Thundering Lizard in order to collect information and get a feel for the local customs in between our exciting romps through the jungles, should one of you need to call when I'm not at hand." With that out of the way, she turned toward Carla once more. "Speaking of, I was going to make some inquiries as to where our predecessors might have gone, that we might find them and take advantage of any leads they might have found. Perhaps you might have some clues once we've all finished introductory pleasantries, Carla?"
 
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Astarte

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Re: The Heart of Wickedness

Katarina's expression remained carefully neutral throughout the briefing their employer gave, only giving it just enough attention to know when she moved on to the important matters. She already knew most of the details from her father, had already studied the maps of Chult, woefully inadequate as they might be. In a way, this expedition was little different than what she'd been working towards her entire life. She had only just returned from the first such expedition under her own leadership—a proper, thorough study of some ancient Besilmer ruins which had recently been uncovered—and she hadn't expected her second to come quite so soon, or to be quite so important.

She was under no delusions about the danger they would be facing. She had done her research, at least on what was available half the world away. She was certain that the continent couldn't have remained such a mystery for so long. Certainly there were secrets yet to be uncovered, but she suspected the large blank space in the center of her map was not quite as unknown as it seemed. It was just a matter of finding the right person to ask (And probably pay, but that was to be expected).


Their arrival in port Nyanzaru was a little jarring, in only for the sudden overload of colour. She had read up on the city of course, but that hadn't prepared her for just how vibrant everything seemed. Discussion from the rest of her group quickly drew her attention back to the matter at hand, however. She gave a brief appraising look to their last addition, though she quickly returned her attention to the others, seeing nothing about her which particularly stood out as attention-grabbing.

"Katarina Landvik." Katarina introduced herself in turn at the barbarian's prompting, though she chose not to add anything about her family name. Her father's name was rather well known in some circles, though she wasn't sure whether any of her current companions knew of his exploits, despite having met him before their departure. He didn't quite have his usual presence now, a victim of the same affliction they were to put an end to. "Archaeologist and explorer. I will be acting as your navigator, and I have some expertise in ancient civilizations, and the dangers often found in their ruins."

"However," Katarina continued, thinking back to her map and how incomplete it was, "I believe it would also be wise to seek out a local guide. No maps cover the interior of the continent, at least none which were available to us in Neverwinter. The best we have covers little more than the regions around the coast, along with some rivers and the mountain ranges. There are surely locals who have ventured farther than this, and their expertise might aid us in the first leg of our journey, at the very least." She turned back to the new arrival, giving her another look to size her up as the mercenary asked about her previous group. "Yes. If we could determine which route they took, it could provide us with some useful information as well. If you made it beyond the bounds of our maps, at least."
 
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Re: The Heart of Wickedness

As the group spoke further and introduced themselves, a couple more developments occurred. The first of which was only relevant to Katarina. As the incoming iron ship belched black smoke from its strange cylinders in the middeck, she noticed a familiar face come into view at the prow of the ship, standing next to the large, bulky dragonborn. It was a redskinned tiefling, with horns that backtracked along his skull at a sharp angle and a long tail. It was the rare horn shape that made her double-take and indeed recognize him as her former colleague, Tyberius Scorn. Scorn was a fellow archeologist, like herself, but a ruthless man whose personality reinforced the negative stereotypes surrounding the fiend-blooded race.

For everyone else, their attention would be brought to the approach of a rotund, Chultan fellow in bright yellow robes and a shiny bald head that was reflecting the afternoon sun brilliantly. He bore a proud, smiling visage as he strutted down the street, holding in his one hand a large sheet of parchment and in his other a hammer and iron nail. Trailing several strides behind him was a tall, thin woman in similar yellow colors, who had a long yellow trail of silk rope behind her that was in succession tied around the waists of three children, likely her own and the man in front of her, after a moment's perusal of the traits of each child. There was a tiny young girl closest to her mother with white and blue beads in her dark braided hair, and she seemed shy, holding a stegasaurus doll close to her body with her thumb and forefinger jammed into her mouth. Behind her was an older sister, thin and reedy like her mother, who looked bored with crossed arms, and trailing behind them was a fat little boy who was pretending to be some sort of monster, probably one of the giant carnivorous lizards that were native to this place. The entire family was dressed in gold and yellows, in contrast to the many people in the fish market area who were sporting blues and greens. The father smiled and announced something loudly in his native Chultan language, which, judging by the response he got, must have been a boast that drew non-serious ridicule from the men nearby.

He then reached a wooden post in the middle of the open space near where the group stood and hammered his parchment to the newspost. The parchment read the following in common speech:

Come one, come all! The legacy of Ubtao continues!

Presenting the annual RACE OF THE NINES!

Each of the nine wards of Port Nyanzaru will be represented by a single dinosaur and rider. Seven champion riders from the weekly circuit have already won the honor of a spot in the race, but two more places are available to be won today with the final sprints.

Heat 1 is being sponsored by the Temple of Savras, and shall be held at the dinner bell.

Heat 2 is being sponsored by the Temple of Sune, and shall be held at the evening bell.

ALL are welcome to enter, if they be brave and bold enough. Glory and 50gp prize to the winner, along with immediate entry in tomorrow's Race of the Nines!

Following the two heats, the traditional Festival of the Lottery will be hosted in Malar's Throat Ward at the Temple of Tymora, our Blessed Lady of Luck. Fireworks, Family Games, Delicious Foods and Gambling Tourneys shall be available all night leading up to the big draw to determine which Ward shall get which Blessed Mount. The racing children of Ubtao have been selected and all your favorites shall be represented. The nine fine steeds are as follows and ranked in current circuit standing order:

1. Big Honker - T. Rex
2. Ubtao's Favorite - Triceratops
3. Banana Candy - Hadrosaurus
4. Bonecruncher - Allosaurus
5. Grung Stomper - Ankylosaurus
6. Scarback - T. Rex
7. Nasty Boy - Allosaurus
8. Jungle Princess - Deinonychus
9. Mountain Thunder - Dimetrodon

See Tymoran Priesthood for betting odds, and may the Lady shine her blessings upon your ward! The 7 Merchant Princes have offered up their prizes for the victorious rider!

Ekene-Afa offers her finest shield and yklwa, made of blessed obsidian and drake hide!

Ifan Talro'a offers the winner's choice of a riding beast from his personal stock, up to 500 gold in value!

Kwayothe offers a rare item of magic that can transport one safely to Nyanzaru from anywhere in Chult! Priceless! Plus a year's supply of tej!

Jessamine offers the winner's choice of exotic extract AND her blessing to marry her daughter!

Jobal offers a choice to waive the fee for a jungle guide, or be given a contract of four professional guardsmen for a year.

Wakanga O'tamu offers his personal tutelage in magic spells, or for those not magically inclined, a voucher for 500gp of magic potions.

Zhanthi offers her fastest ship, the Brazen Pegasus, to speed the victor through the seas!

Three of these prizes shall greet the victor of the Race of the Nines! Blessings of the gods be upon you! All of Port Nyanzaru shall be watching!

*Neither the temples nor the merchant princes can be held responsible for any loss of body function or life as a result of entering the Race of the Nines. Please race and gamble responsibly.
 

GargantuaBlarg

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Re: The Heart of Wickedness

"Heehee. My group was Plan Z until you all showed up. Though, if that was our employer just now, perhaps we really are the last ones?"

Carla was momentarily distracted by the strange black ship sluggishly pushing its way across the water in the distance. Ugly and out of place... but formidable-looking, which was the most important part. If this place was center of the end of resurrection, they would just be the first amongst the tide to come that didn't fit in with Nyanzaru's vibrant bright dyes and white, sun-bleached stone. They would match with the local reptilian oxen, at least...

"Ah, let's not make the same mistake Plan Y made, and slow down, yes? If we speak of jungles and guides..." the unassuming girl started, raising her voice and clearing her throat to cut through the talk of where they ought to sleep for the night. "Apparently, those who have money can make things exist by paying enough money for them. The Flaming Fists - a powerful guild of 'just-in-time steel-implement delivery'," - Carla rolled her eyes repeating that particular line, "own the 'rights' to plunder and exploration of the jungle... which means they're allowed to beat and rob anyone who goes out there without buying a Charter from them." The meekly dressed girl held up her fists - one fully opened, and the other shut tight. "Fifty gold pieces! I don't know what 'rights' such a thing buys us, since I left soon after learning the price."

"Guides are similarly controlled. I haven't learned their price yet, but they work for Merchant Prince Jobal. He sees to it that guides who do not work for him... disappear."

Carla mopped at her forehead with her sleeve, as a sardonic grin spread across her face. "Welcome to Nyanzaru."


When the yellow folks came through, though, Carla smirked. "Oh, seems we were all lucky enough to show up at the time of these folks' great lizard races. They run them through the streets every year, or so I've gathered from the gossip I've been listening to waiting for you all..."
 

Hafnium

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The mercenary swordswoman had a well-practiced skill when it came to putting distractions out of mind in order to focus on work. Beyond a passing glance, she ignored the black ship and the procession through town alike in favor of listening to the others introduce themselves and Carla speaking out on what Ditte assumed was she felt were injustices by the The Flaming Fists and Merchant Princes. These were the people she was going to be traipsing through the jungle with, after all, and as such it behooved her not just to pick Carla's brain for ideas on what became of 'Plan Y' but also to get a better idea of the personalities and temperaments of the each member. She didn't personally feel any of Carla's distaste for the situation in Nyanzaru -- in truth, her only distaste was that she'd messed up by not joining The Flaming Fists early into her career so that she might see part of that same charter fee and that there was probably no chance that she could get in good with Jobal in a timely manner. But it caused Ditte no issues to do a better job of keeping her personal philosophies hidden, if it meant maintaining better relationships with a group of people she was ostensibly meant to save all the world's souls with.

So, for the duration of Carla's explanation regarding the guides, Ditte remained quiet and adopted a more neutral expression. Silence was the best way to police her own sarcastic tongue, she'd found. It wasn't until the latest member of their party spoke about the lizard races and the mercenary glanced at the parchment and spotted the prizes that she dared to chime in again and risk giving away her greedy intentions. "Lucky indeed," she suggested, wiping beads of sweat from her own forehead and then idly tugging her collar as she spoke. She had been dressed for conditions in the north, with a black, long-sleeved tunic, matching pants, and a cloak to boot, and the Chult weather was doing her no favors. She supposed she was lucky that her chainmail was stowed with her belongings. "A few of these prizes would be especially beneficial to our little expedition, given the apparent political climate and our less-than-bountiful budget. And since we have such convenient timing and need to stay in Nyanzaru for a time in order to adequately prepare for our journey anyway, there probably wouldn't be any harm in some of us taking a shot at racing the lizards and winning something that lessens our chances of rotting in these jungles," she fabricated a convenient excuse for herself to join the race.

"And perhaps this would be as good a time as any for us to take care of any personal business before we all gather together and go on a rousing group shopping spree for guides and lizard mules and whatever else we decide will lessen our chances of becoming the next Plan Y," she suggested. "The qualifiers offer as good a time and a place as any for us to reunite and take care of group preparations."
 
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The party chose to go their separate ways, agreeing to meet up at the Thundering Lizard Inn at the very latest by the next morning, at what locals would call the Working Bell, which proceeded after the Breakfast Bell. The temple of Gond appeared to have the monopoly on naming schemes, given they had constructed and ran the clock tower, and it was in the nature of the Priesthood of Crafts to be practical in their nomenclature.

Each member of the party seemed to have their own interests. Ditte, the swordswoman, climbed the great stairway of white marble and green serpentine to the mighty stone bridge that connected Mount Sibasa and Yklwazi Hill, upon which stood the Hall of Gold and the Grand Colosseum respectively. She entered into the temple of Waukeen and made a few inquiries, familiarizing herself with the area, before making her way to the Thundering Lizard and meeting the local guides for hire that happened to be present. She met a woman, Eku, whose strange way of peering deeply into her eyes and arcane mutterings provided an awkward encounter, however, she made better relations with a one-armed dwarf, who introduced himself as Hew Hackinstone. Hew had lost his arm and earned several nasty scars due to an encounter with a dragon, or so he claimed. He also seemed quite boastful that he'd climbed every mountain in Chult. A tad wild-eyed and excitable, he exuded the raw studley presence of a typical dwarven brawler. Having promised to consider him as a guide when she met her party again, Ditte headed towards the Temple of Tymora in Malar's Throat, to see about her chances to enter a qualifying dinosaur race.

Horas and Carla had similar ideas about meeting with guides, and had in fact beaten Ditte to the Thundering Lizard by a good half-hour. They had encountered three potential guides. A fiery haired, six foot tall Chultan woman named Azaka Stormfang, who was willing to waive her fee for a party that helped her reclaim her property that had been stolen by evil pterafolk. Horas tried to hit on her, but to no apparent effect. Carla then spoke with a pair of foreign guides, a Calishite human named Faroul with dusky skin and a smiling disposition and his halfling gentleman friend, Gondolo. They said that anyone hiring them would get two guides for the price of one, guaranteed treasure and the aid of their pack animal triceratops. At the end of speaking with them, both Carla and Horas were directly approached by a stern, no-nonsense Chultan woman who called herself Salida. She said that Azaka and others like her had led explorers to their deaths before this, and that Faroul and Gondolo were charlatans. She still expected standard fees, but said she wouldn't require upfront payment, because she intended to keep sensible explorers alive. She didn't seem too impressed with Horas either. After this, the pair of them went to the Temple of Tymora as well, to check out the racing.

Meanwhile, across the city, Ethelynn the elven cleric of Sune decided to take the scenic route to the her Goddess' temple. She visited the Grand Souk bazaar, and spent a few coins on new and exotic foods while she went from stall to stall, marveling at the many strange and wonderful things for sale. There she fell into a conversation with a handsome young guard named Soshen. He just happened to be going off duty, and asked to accompany the pretty young elf, whom he complimented and showed the fancy fountains and waterworks of the Gond Priesthood. As he gave her the tour, he let slip that he was the son of Merchant Prince Ekane-Afa, a former gladiator who had won her initial fortune and renown in the Grand Colosseum, and who would be sponsoring one of the prizes at the Race of the Nines. He asked Elethynn if she would be willing to accompany him to the race as his date.

Katarina hung back as the rest of her expedition companions departed. She was interested in the iron ship, and one of its occupants, the tiefling known to her as Tyberius Scorn. If he were present, she wanted to know what he was up to. She hid nearby on the pier and watched as the ship docked and a white scaled dragonborn disembarked to meet with the city's harbormaster - who happened to be a gold-scaled dragonborn. With her knowledge of Draconic, Katarina was able to tell that the white dragonborn was an expected guest of the Merchant Prince Kwayothe, a rumored beauty. The visitor produced a parchment with proof of this invitation, which appeared to satisfy the harbormaster, even though no direct answer to their business in Port Nyanzaru was given. Hobgoblin servitors unloaded crates onto shore. An inspection of them showed expedition equipment for what seemed like quite a sizable force. No doubt they would be slow-moving, and foraging would be difficult for them.

Katarina waited an hour for Scorn to finally show his tail off the ship. When he did, he was accompanying the white dragonborn and two official looking hobgoblins, one in scale mail and the other in robes. The four were met by a pair of gorgeous, perfumed Chultans, one male and one female. They said they were here to bring the honored guests to Kwayothe's villa. A curtained sedan being carried by a dozen well-muscled servants bore them to the west part of the city, where the wealthy villas could overlook the royal docks and the temple ward. Following them to the villa itself, Katarina decided not to press her luck by vaulting over the villa wall and daring the detection of the guards. Satisfied for the time being, Katarina decided to make her way to Malar's Throat, and the Temple of Tymora. Perhaps she too could try her luck at the dinosaur race.
 
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BlueSlime

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[After many individual IRC chats]

The day wore on, and the visitors from the savage north pressed on with the coming evening activities.

Elethynn was escorted by Soshen, the Merchant Prince Ekene Afa's son, to the Temple of Sune. Here, the cleric of beauty was shown about the magnificent building that overlooked the Bay of Chult from its small island just off the coast of the city, accessible only by a single bridge that extended from the northern point of Temple Hill. Elethynn witnessed the priests of her order instructing the local petitioners on fitness, health needs, and relaxation techniques. Nowhere else beyond the courts of the high elves had Elethynn witnessed such a cultural devotion to cleanliness and beauty. The priesthood was respected here, by all save the most elite of the city, such as the Merchant Prince Ifan Talro'a, who was visiting the temple when the elven cleric arrived. The merchant was taking a demanding tone with the head priestess, Nyali U'lolo, and apparently exasperated that other merchant princes had previously bartered for temple services, he demanded that the newcomer, Elethynn, tend to his preparative needs for his master of ceremonies role at the race lottery later that night. Attempting to not upset the delicate nature of this important man and make things worse for her fellows of the faith, Elethynn did her best to treat him with foreign and unfamiliar techniques. Unfortunately, luck was not on her side, as she scalded the merchant prince AND turned his brown skin a bright orange with a poor choice of lotion. Frothing with rage, Ifan Talro'a declared that Elethynn and her church would pay for this insult, and left in a huff to attend his duties.

Meanwhile, across the city at the temple of Tymora, first Horas and Carla arrived for the Allosaurus race, where the bold barbarian dared much to be in the running, but disaster struck him as he failed to make a difficult leap on his wild mount, Wuka Wuka. Horas ended up face first in the mud, and had to be cleaned up afterwards by the priesthood with whom he was not happy.

Katarina and Ditte showed up for the running of the Triceratops, which like the first race, took place as a relatively straightforward charge down the slum district known as Malar's Throat. This narrow gorge was connected from cliff face to cliff face by rope bridges, with rickety bamboo and fern huts and shacks dotting the rain-slick rocks. The race was an intense sprint, and while it looked like a hobgoblin warrior, one that Katarina had recognized from her earlier recogniscance was going to win, Ditte's mount was a late runner and showed an amazing comeback to win by a good half length.

With the victory, Ditte is mobbed by approving fans, and is given a token and a 50 gp reward, as well as entry into the Race of the Nines, tomorrow, where she will have the opportunity to win rare and valuable riches. Among the cheering and congratulations, Ditte is handed a note, which reads the following:

"Congratulations on your victory. More wealth than this can be yours, if you are interested in taking advantage of your unique position. Speak to the three blind girls by Malar's Gate, and we shall talk. - The Beggar Prince."

---

Meanwhile, Carla had been watching the majority of her new companions compete in the dinosaur races. As she did so, a young woman wearing the robes and symbol of Savras, God of Divination, appeared by Carla's side. Her gaze was distant, and glassy eyed. She opened her mouth to speak, not directly at Carla, and yet she was the only one who seemed close enough to hear.

"Speak to the wise guardian of Orulunga, east of Mbala. She can direct you to that which you seek."

The woman continued to stare into the distance, making Carla feel slightly at ill ease, until a breeze passed them both, and the young acolyte of Savras blinked and shook her head, then looked around her, slightly confused, before turning to Carla and saying.

"Excuse me, I am sorry for troubling you, but I've been told you could help me. You're an explorer, yes? My name is Inete. The guide who took your friends into the jungle a week ago, he was a friend of mine. I fear that he has been in terrible danger, and I have had visions of terrible magics at work in the Aldani Basin, deep within the jungle. If you are planning on going into the jungle, I wish to come with you."



 

Hafnium

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Nothing quite beat the feeling of fifty more coins in her purse and a smug look wiped off the face of an insufferable elf. Needing to deal with a small crowd of new fans was a small price to pay in return for the sheer satisfaction of her rewards. And it was a price because Ditte didn't place too much stock into her newfound popularity. As far as she concerned fans were only valuable if they came bearing gifts of money and too much fame was a detractor from her line of work, so she pushed her way through the mob while offering minimal effort answering the questions she was pelted with, mostly consisting of who she was, where she was from, her previous riding experiences, and which ward she would represent.

"Ditte Brightwood, mercenary extraordinaire. The north, or the land of cold and also more cold. I've not seen nor rode anything larger than a horse before today. My only allegiance is to coin and contracts, I'm neutral in all other things." She repeated the appropriate answer each time a question was re-asked by a new face as she made her way toward the other member of the party who had entered the race with her. Somewhere along the way, someone slipped a piece of paper into her hand. It was more interesting to her than the crowd but she didn't look immediately, deciding that anything given to her so secretively should probably be read when she was alone. For the time being, reaching Katarina was of particular urgency to Ditte because she had noticed something odd among the spectators. When she caught up, the mercenary would place a hand on the archaeologist's shoulder and move in close to her side.

"I don't mean to alarm you," she would whisper conspiratorially to the shorter woman. "But there's a tiefling gentleman staring rather intently at you. A secret admirer, perhaps? A jilted former lover? A current lover? Hm, but if either of those last two are the case then I'm afraid I've been misjudging you as inexperienced in adult matters. Regardless, with how attached he appears to be I don't think I'd accept any drinks from him or follow him into any dark alleyways if I were you."
 

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The race had started well, but Katarina had got too aggressive. She had taken an early lead, but she wasn't a particularly experienced rider, especially not with creatures like these dinosaurs. She had picked a good mount, but she'd tried to push it too hard too quickly, and ended up crashing through an errant fruit cart and ended up falling behind. Even after a near-miss collision with the dinosaur ridden by the fellow member of her party she still managed to pull even with the second-place racer by the end, which was more than she had honestly expected when she'd decided to try out. In the end Ditte had won, and that was good enough. She didn't really care about the prize money personally—it would be nice, certainly, but as long as Ditte was willing to put some of the reward towards their expedition if she won the finals that was enough for Katarina.

Unfortunately, seeing the hobgoblin she recognized from Scorn's ship made Katarina realize too late how she'd likely exposed her presence to her old nemesis. She'd been hoping to keep tabs on him without him knowing she was even in the area, but if he wasn't watching the race itself, her name had been called out by the announcers. Between that and a description, if his lackey chose to mention her he'd surely realize who it was. She did her best to follow the hobgoblin with her peripheral vision when he left after the race's conclusion, her gaze remaining centred on Ditte and the crowd surrounding her. If nothing else, she wanted to keep Scorn from realizing she was aware of his presence. Sure enough, she spotted the Tiefling, and he was looking right at her.

Keeping her eyes on Ditte, she made no outward indication that she'd noticed his gaze, but internally her mind was racing, trying to figure out what he might try to do. Last time he had robbed the expedition and disappeared, but she had no relics to steal this time. Was he after something else? Did he know why she was here?

Katarina was broken out of her thoughts by Ditte's approach, the mercenary finally having broken away from her new fans. "What? No! Nothing like that at all!" Katarina denied vehemently, shaking her head, before realizing where she was once again and lowering her voice before she attracted more attention, a slight reddening of her cheeks betraying her embarrassment at both the suggestion and the fact that she'd just blurted that denial out loud in a crowded area.

"I noticed him. I was trying to make sure he didn't realize I'd noticed him." Katarina explained in a quiet voice. At this point, it was better to give the mercenary an explanation, even a short one, lest she get the wrong idea and try approaching Scorn. "He's a thief, or a con man. Hired him for an expedition once, only for him to make off with one of the most valuable relics we uncovered. Had never managed to track him down until now. He was coming in on a ship when we arrived, so I tailed him for a while. Had been hoping to avoid his notice, so participating in this race probably wasn't my smartest idea. I'm not sure what he wants with me now."
 
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Hafnium

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"I see," Ditte quietly responded. Inwardly she made a note of that delicious reaction. It seemed their precious, cute little navigator might not have climbed the stairs to adulthood yet after all. It struck the mercenary as wasteful for the other woman to venture out in the forest with the possibility of never returning without tasting more of life's pleasures, and Ditte had certain appetites that the rogue would sate perfectly.... But that was a matter for later. This business about the tiefling might have a real effect on their expedition and as such Ditte felt she ought to approach it with at least a modicum of seriousness.

"Ugh, one of those types," the mercenary groaned at Katarina's explanation about the tiefling's betrayal. "At least wait until the contract is officially at its end Anything less than that is just bad for future business." She folded her hands together and rested them on the back of her head as she continued. "That said, it seems to me like he got away with it. What's the point in him having any continuing interest in you at all other than to make sure you're not after him for revenge? Unless he really does have a thing for you, that is. I don't want to understate just how very intently he was staring at you." She glanced sideways at the rogue to see what expression she had earned with her brief foray back into her sardonic roots. Afterward though, the mercenary would quickly become serious again. "Although whatever the case may be, perhaps we ought to continue this conversation far away from his watchful eyes."
 
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The tiefling, Scorn, eventually tore his gaze from Katerina, passing a momentary glance on Ditte before turning to have a word with the armored hobgoblins who were his associates. The hobgoblin racer who had been pipped at the post by Ditte was talking intensely to the red-skinned tiefling, growing more and more animated as the talk went on. Eventually a beautiful Chultan man with nigh perfect ebony features spoke to them all and ushered them away into the crowd.

Ditte and Katarina would be allowed into a private alcove by a Tymoran priestess, if they desired privacy and a chance to get away from the crowds. This alcove was a part of a private prayer room on the upper floor of the rather haphazardly put together temple. They were not entirely alone here, but those who were with them were not crowding them. In fact, Ditte and Katarina soon came to realize they were in an area with other race winners and their associated backers. There were at least four Chultan humans, two men and two women who were wearing a token around their necks. Each of these humans stayed well apart from each other. One of the men was adorned richly with metallic bands and had a shaved pate, while the other was dressed in a simple rainment with a full beard and dreadlocks distinguishing his face. One chultan woman wore only a tight fitting black outfit across her rather lean, small figure, and had a veil drawn across her nose and lower face. The other woman was by contrast, flamboyantly dressed in a bright feather outfit, showing off an athletic, curvy body that looked as if it might belong more on a dancing stage than in a race. Aside from the humans, there was also a bare-chested, woad painted albino dwarf with crystal blue eyes and bleach white hair who had a token. Beside him was a feline humanoid - a tabaxi - who had black spots and otherwise green-dyed fur. She was speaking softly to another token bearer, an avian human, one of the rare Aarakocra. Tales said there were only four great tribes of these people left in the world, but Katarina now recalled that the Mistcliffs of Northern Chult were one such steadfast. The aarockra had brilliantly hued, bird of paradise feathers, though one of his wings appeared damaged.

Ditte was the eighth racer to appear in this room. The ninth, so she had overheard, was the Tethyrian knight from the afternoon race, but he had not arrived yet. A serving boy arrived bearing juice refreshments for Katarina and Ditte.

"Compliments of the nobility, who enjoyed your race performance, Lady Brightwood." The serving boy said.
 
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GargantuaBlarg

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Horas may or may not have heard a brief peal of high-pitched cackling coming from somewhere in the onlooking crowd when he was un-dinosaured and plowed into the mud. Carla was very conscious of this fact, and quickly brought her arm up to stifle her laughter in the crook of her arm - her only salvation was whether or not the mud had clogged up his hearing. She couldn't help it - how often did you get to see a muscular, strapping young man fly off a giant lizard and eat a faceful of mud?

The rest of the races were also amusing enough - the city had been building her up to enjoy it for a week, after all - at least, until a rather disturbing woman came up and started speaking to... her? Carla was the only one really around to hear her, but the woman just started off into space, looking like she didn't even use her eyes until a few moments later, when the stranger returned to some semblance of normal behavior. "Ugh... is that what it's like for me too?" Carla muttered to no one in particular.

Only when she returned to normal was Carla able to start treating her like a normal person - and notice the little things that marked her as the Seer God's. That put her on edge almost immediately; seers made a living out of seeing things, and for thieves, being seen was bad. Rather than respond, Carla took out a book and quickly took note of what the the girl had said. These names were still pretty weird to her, and it wouldn't help much if later on she were looking for 'Orommahem east of Mbuh-huh' later. Her instincts were telling her to avoid such a place - being told to go somewhere by someone who didn't know or care about you was usually serving someone else's purposes, if not an outright trap, after all - but an itch in her head was already telling her elsewise. She herself wasn't exactly sure what she was searching for just yet outside of the incredibly vague 'bad soul thing', but she could believe that the Seer God would both know who she was and be desperate enough to talk to a Plan Z-er to get this soul-thing gone as well.

"I suppose I shouldn't ask how you know I'm an explorer when I've just been selling fish in the marketplace since I got here, huh?" she said as she noted down the Aldani Basin as well. She made her wait until she finished writing before she continued. "Alright. I'm hearing a lot of reasons why you want to come with us, but not a lot of reasons why we want you to come with us. Expedition supplies are heavy and expensive, you know, and none of us know you, so none of us trust you. Being that I've just considered like four to guide me through the jungle and three of them have been very reasonably accused of trying to fleece me, I've come into the habit of not trusting people here. Why should I let you come with me when I don't know if you're going to try to tell the future by reading my entrails or something?"

Carla looked up from her book, inspecting the girl closer to make note of her appearance, equipment, and try to get a handle on this "Inete's" body language, to see if there was anything suspicious about her.

Insight check!
 

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Grunting, wincing, and limping slightly after his rough fall from Wuka Wuka, Horas let the priests of Tymora clean him up for just a bit before making his way out of the race area in a huff. While he ended up wandering around for a while, eventually he would divert his wanderings towards the temple of Sune.
 
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