Morgrim Calturne
Hero of the Host Tower Morgrim Calturne
Morgrim has always been fascinated by glittering treasure, forgotten relics and ancient civilizations, and has devoted his life to their discovery. Sometimes it's personal curiosity that drives him, sometimes his hunt is at the behest of a wealthy patron.
You can always turn Morgrim's ear with a rumor of a lost treasure--the more arcane and more ancient the better. A swarthy man of average height and unremarkable looks, familiarity reveals keen intellect and a physique honed by years of adventure.
Current Location
Port Nyanzaru
Alignment
NG
Year of Birth
1464 DR
28 Years old
Children
Gender
Male
Eyes
Blue
Hair
Black
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Swarthy
Height
5'11"
Weight
175#
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The Cleansing of M'Bala
On the first of the month we began our ascent to the tableau upon which sat the remains of the once great city of M’bala. The sun, just risen, was already warm and promised another sweltering day. By our estimation, the ruin sat two thousand feet above us, though the climb would likely take us several hours due to the angle of our ascent and switchbacks in the trail. What a magnificent defense this tabletop mesa must have provided the people who once lived here! My mood darkened as I thought of their demise, and it was with a grim countenance that set foot upon the path.
As we slowly rose above the treetops, Eku, in the lead, finally revealed her full knowledge of the city of M’Bala. “Long have I awaited this day, my friends. As I have told you before, I have a magically long life. It has been one hundred years since the fall of M’Bala, and I have waited all this time for heroes that would return to right the wrongs there.” She then, in full detail tell us of the downfall of the city.
As we rose above the jungle, we were afforded a view unlike any other in Chult. The marshland of the basin at the base of the Shoshenstar was revealed to us, and we could see for miles above the canopy of the jungle beyond. I noticed something we could not quite comprehend and drew our attention to the south. We could see, distantly, what appeared to be a floating rock—which must be enormous to be seen from this distance—a long way to the south of our position. Acorn-shaped, and with a giant tree growing from its center, it was an enigma. Not even our ancient and knowledgeable guide, Eku, knew what it was.
It was a short time later that my companion Connor Stonehammer’s sharp eyes, always alert for trouble, first spotted another oddity. He quickly drew our attention to what he had found. In the distance, so far as to have little detail, we could see the form of a ship caught in the branches of a tree! As unbelievable as it sounds, good reader, miles from the ocean, surrounded by jungle on all sides, a ruin of a ship was entangled in the canopy, a ruin of blue canvas surrounding it, and likely what caught our eye.
During a water break, I updated my map with the locations of these anomalies. They may pose fruitful goals for further exploration of the jungle. I resolved to inquire about them upon our return to Port Nyanzaru.
We were about halfway to our goal when I noticed in the distance reptilian, humanoid forms, flying on leathery wings. This was ill-omened, indeed. There were seven pterafolk approaching, and we were horribly exposed on the cliffside. Pterafolk are notoriously distrustful of strangers, prone to visit violence first upon trespassers in the demesne, and unlikely to parlay. Even Eku was worried. She turned to us, and with a voice pitched low so it would not carry, asked us “If you will trust me friends, I will attempt to avoid violence.”
It seemed a wise course, if she could somehow keep us from blows with the pterafolk—the one thousand foot fall off the cliff face was a powerful incentive to peacefully settle our differences, however it would come about. In this case, the ever-resourceful Eku used magic. Before our very eyes, her form shimmered and changed, elongating, and becoming snake-like. She had changed her appearance into that of an evil yuan-ti. In a rasping and hissing voice, she called out to the leader of the approaching pterafolk.
She bluffed and intimidated adeptly, quickly convincing the foul fliers that she was a mighty yuan-ti and that she and her slaves, referring to us, had unfinished business with Nanny Pu’pu, the witch of M’Bala. The pterafolk did not wish to cross the feared and cunning yuan-ti and allowed us to pass, and with a blessing. Since Eku made it clear that we were going to evict the witch from the mountain, they warned us about a foul pet that could not be harmed by normal weapons. They left us each with what appeared to be a wooden bat, about two and a half to three-foot-long, rectangular in shape, and edged around with the razor-sharp teeth of jungle predators. These ‘swords’, they explained, would damage the beast, and they hoped their gift would be well-received by the yuan-ti, and their cooperation with their plans remembered. I believe the pterafolk will be just as glad as any to have the witch put down and have designs on the mesa for their own plans. They then quickly departed, and we resumed our climb, Eku changing back to her human appearance, promises to explain her strange magic when the time was right.
The path made a turn inwards, towards the top of the mesa, at last, and its surface changed from sturdy rock to hand-hewn stairs. Cautiously we approached the crumbling gates of the ruined city, alert for snares and traps. Finding none, we approached the gates. The scene before us was ghastly. Piles of skulls lined the path and gnawed bones littered the ground, all human, and of all ages, in places so deep that we were forced to wade through them. They were clearly deliberately placed, serving as a macabre warning and horrifying decoration to the ravished and decaying foundations of what must have been in its time a great civilization.
With one exception, no structures stood. At the end of the bone-strewn tabletop stood one hut, covered in skins. Smoke slowly curled from its roof, carried to the east by the breeze that carried across our position. Eku finally explains to us her secret. She revealed to us that she is actually a celestial being, a couatl, a winged serpent of great power, and sworn enemy of Nanny Pu’Pu. Her day of vengeance at hand, she transformed into her magnificent true form before our eyes.
Spotting the witch by the hut, we made our advance together. Nanny, seeing us, and the fierce form of Eku, gave a shrill whistle. Suddenly, a cloud of flying monkeys appeared, and taking wing, charged us. They caterwauled and howled their defiance as they approached.
Stringing my bow, I feathered one of them as it drew near. My friends accounted for the others. While we were engaged with the airborne simians, Eku rushed towards Nanny Pu’pu. With Eku’s appearance, the illusion around the witch disappeared, and she took her true form. She was no other than a hag! It was no wonder the city of M’Bala had fallen to her magics. We would be lucky to perish ourselves. Had we finally bitten off more than we could chew?
Nanny was terrified to see her doom approach and summoned from the bone piles the pet we had heard about from the pterafolk. It was a horrible monster, vaguely man-shaped, its unnatural form stitched together from disparate parts. The monster lurched its eight-foot form unevenly forward to intercept Eku. As Eku faced off against the flesh golem, the witch uttered some spell and completely disappeared.
Finishing off the last of the flying monkeys, we moved to Eku’s aid. She had coiled herself, python-like, around the foul monster. Looped about it, she tightened her grip, constricting and forcing the monster’s arms to its sides. It was clearly in duress. With a herculean shrug it threw off Eku, breaking free of her coils, injuring her in the process.
Lord Rhogar, suspicious of the gift of the evil pterafolk, attacked with his mighty double-bladed scimitar. The blows glanced off the golem. With a mighty battle-roar, he belched forth a breath of lightning from his draconic form which crackled and whipped around the golem. It was unharmed! Clearly the magic of the monster was something to be reckoned with. I drew my ensorcelled rapier and the dagger that I had been gifted with by Ubtao and rushed to Rhogar’s aid. I circled, looking for an opening while it was distracted by the heroic, but ineffectual, attacks of my dragonkin companion. Seeing an opportunity, I dove in, striking deeply with my black blade and dagger, both. The beast howled with pain. Apparently, the beast was not proof against adamantine, nor the magic of the god, and it perished before me.
While we were engaged with the patchwork monster, Arryn sent his scalebeasts in search of the invisible hag. They tasted the air, looking around, and the same breeze that had scattered the smoke of the hut betrayed her position to the lizard-like hounds. Baying, they gave chase.
The hag, knowing that her position was betrayed to the scalebeasts, attacked in ambush, grievously wounding one of them, but before they could come to further harm, Eku, seeing her nemesis revealed, flew to the hag, and biting her with her poisoned fangs, caused her to fall unconscious. Quickly, we made sure the hag was done for. The battle ended, the century of injustice for the people of M’Bala came to an end.
We searched about for any treasure, and hidden in a cistern, a bag was discovered containing various treasures. Nothing else of value turned up, so we decided that the now monster-free plateau would be our camp for the night. While we rested, I explored the ruins, making a map and tracing the carvings that remained of the ruins. Slowly, I pieced together a rich history of the people that once lived here and recorded my findings in my notes. From our vantage here, I can see across much of the subcontinent of Chult, and I update my map accordingly. This map is perhaps our greatest prize from this journey, as few maps of the interior exist. I will need to guard it closely. Information this detailed, in the wrong hands would be enough to kill for.
The next morning, we begin our journey back to Nyanzaru. We encounter some trouble with two thunder lizards who had us eyed for their breakfast, but they are quickly dispatched. Wasting nothing, and knowing of the dire situation of Camp Vengeance, we harvest what meat we can from the beasts, and continue on our way.
Returning to Camp Vengeance on the eighth of the month, we are greeted by a changed scene. Gone is the sickness and disease we saw on our last visit here. A hopeful atmosphere is present, and we are greeted warmly by the guards atop the repaired rampart. We meet with Commander Niles and describe our adventures. He is amazed when we tell him of the battle, and when we gifted him with a map to the plateau and describe its defensive advantages over his current position, he is greatly impressed, and of a mind to take advantage of it. He asks us to send a report to the Order of the Gauntlet back in Port Nyanzaru, since that is our next destination. As it is on our way, and the previous lordliness in not present in his request, we graciously agree. Undril, it turns out, will be accompanying us again, messenger to her order.
We present the camp with our supplies from the battle with the dinosaurs, as we had so many food supplies left that our canoes were very nearly overloaded. A feast is held, and the mood is high. At some point in the festivities, Connor disappears. I suspect his affection for Undril is indeed returned. That is most excellent for him—who of us does not need companionship in these dangerous times?
We depart with the dawn, our return to the Port was with little other notice, but a brief encounter with the particularly large mosquitoes that seem to inhabit Chult. I must inquire about those further.
The River and the Journey
It was early morning when we set off from Port Nyanzaru, and most of the city was just beginning the bustle of its day. Things at the docks were already in full swing, however. We met Eku by the canoes we were to use, and it was easy to see that while we had been sleeping the night away, she had been busy preparing for our dangerous journey up the River Shoshenstar. The canoes already rode low in the water, laden with the ever-necessary clean water, food, and the other necessities for survival in the harsh environs of Chult.
"Quickly, my friends," Eku motioned towards the boats, "we must make use of the incoming tide. Its flood will ease our first day's journey up the river. Quickly, now, we must be off."
With that, we boarded our canoes. We traveled in single file, Eku and her canoe leading the way, then mine, and my companions followed. Arryn shared a canoe with the scalebeasts, and Connor positioned his place in line where he could converse with Undril, cleric of Tyr. I do not think he has ever seen a female of his kind, or at least one who favors civilization over barbarity. Her effect on him is something to see. He is all pointy edges and sandpaper most days to most people, but to see him with Undril, it is to see him unarmed. I think he is smitten, but I shall not mention it to him, as I think the subject may be sensitive to him. I hope he overcomes his apprehension and pursues his feelings in this.
As we travel with Undril, Connor asks her about the Order of the Gauntlet. She explains that they are a group of adventurers, like minded, and in pursuit of Good. They actively oppose evil in the realm, and right it when they can. Stonehammer appears interested, but I am not sure if it is the Order that holds his attention. The first day passes almost lazily. You cannot be relaxed in the jungles of this land, but this close to the city the danger is somewhat lessened. By nightfall, however, we passed into the jungle and made camp.
Our first night passed uneventfully, and we did encounter anything worth noting in my journal.
The second day dawned. We broke our fast, collected our water from our raincatchers, dismantled our riverside camp, and reapplying the needful bug repellant to prevent diseases from the airborne pests that make the jungle their home, we set off up the river.
Near the end of the day, as the sun was beginning to lower towards the canopy, I felt an eerie feeling, as one being watched. Cautiously, I looked towards the bank of the river as we paddled along, so as not to betray my alertness to any possible watchers. Using peripheral vision, I watched for movement in the undergrowth in the same way I used to keep myself informed of my surroundings in the streets of Athkatla, my home. Patiently, I observed as we paddled up the river. There! Sure enough, the sun occasionally caught the glint of eyes in the darkness. Low to the ground they were and moving with a bipedal grace. Goblins? We had not yet encountered them, though we had heard much about them and their use of poison on the unwary jungle travelers.
I needed to communicate this to our guide and my friends, but without alerting our landlocked scout. Relying on the fact that most of the residents did not speak the Common tongue as their native language, I hoped a watching goblin scout would not speak it at all. Without looking towards the jungle at all, I spoke to Eku in the most conversational tone I could, hoping that an observer would not note a difference in our speech and know he was discovered. “Eku, please do not react visibly to my words, but I believe we are being followed.”
I then proceeded to describe what I had seen on the banks of the Shoshenstar. After a short pause, Eku must have noticed our watcher, as well, because she said, “I agree, we are followed. Your eyes are sharp, Morgrim.”
I passed the word in a similar manner to my companions, and while we lost sight of our observer before much time had passed, the rest of the day’s journey was tense. That night, we set our guard with even more than our usual alertness, expecting trouble. Our efforts paid off. It was not long into the night when we heard something in the darkness. I quickly and silently roused my friends.
We decided to call out into the darkness to see who was there. Perhaps parley would trump violence if it were a local Tabaxi, and if not, perhaps if the stalkers knew the ambush was spoiled it would cause them to lose heart. It was the latter, and despite our attempts to find the ambushers, they eluded us and escaped into the trees and darkness.
That morning, we set out again, and continued up the river. We conversed amongst ourselves, wondering what Camp Vengeance was like, what welcome awaited Undril, and discussed the near-ambuscade the night before.
We paused our paddling around midday for a lunch meal of dried fish and local fruit that Eku had found. Setting back out, we found ourselves in a stretch of river that was broad and slow, water plants and bamboo occasionally choked the banks of the river which was murky and laden with silt from the interior of the continent. It was not long before Lord Rhogar, my dragonborn companion, called out, “Be warned, friends! There is something in the water that follows us!”
It was the first time I had seen Eku startled, her dark-skinned face paled noticeably. “To the bank! Quickly, if you value your lives! It is a river monster!” We paddled for the shore like madmen, as our lives depended on it, and as it became apparent to our pursuit that we knew we were being hunted and risked escaping, the water behind us frothed from a powerful tail. Reaching the shore in the nick of time, we hauled the boats up to prevent them from being carried off back to Nyanzaru and armed ourselves.
From the turgid water erupted something that could almost be described as a crocodile, that famed river beast of the southern reaches of Faerun, but longer of limb and easily three times the size of the largest beast I have heard described. It had a mouth full of dagger-like teeth that protruded from its jaw and vertically pupiled eyes that shone like tiger eye gems. The monster did not pause at the river’s edge, but coursed upon the shore on long limbs, tail extended behind it granting balance. This beast was not water bound, but a menace to the land as well!
We fell upon it, and while it struggled mightily, we overcame with no losses to our party. Eku informed us that many parts of this creature were valuable, and that she hoped we would consider giving some of the prize to the poor of the port city we have been calling our base of operations. Conferring with my companions, we decided to grant the pelt to Eku, and the only thing we kept to ourselves were some teeth to serve as a trophy. The meat of this beast is quite palatable, and we replenished our supplies from its remains. I took care to learn all I could from Eku about the preparation of meat in the local fashion. If one is to survive the jungles here, it would behoove them to learn the local ways and methods. Too much here is fatal to the unwary.
That ended the third day, and we made camp sufficiently far from the battle scene that we would not be bothered by scavengers attracted by the scent of blood.
Day four passed, with no more than the normal hardships of jungle travel. The attitude is somewhat relaxed. We make camp that night, and a companionable conversation was had by all. Arryn and Connor retire to themselves to talk.
That night, a strange blue mist spread through the undergrowth, seeming to move against the wind, and of its own accord. Alert against the jungle dangers, I ran to awaken my comrades, but before we could properly take cover the mist was upon us. After the mist had passed, our guide told us about the peril we had been in.
“Monkey Fever,” explained Eku, “Monkey Fever can be contracted by those exposed to the mist. It is very bad. It can cause hallucinations, even death. We were fortunate.” Or so we thought.
Midway through the next day, Undril cried out. “My companions!” she cried. “The Order—they are there, on the east bank!” And she began to paddle with all her considerable might towards the far shore we knew was plagued with the undead’s curse.
“No!” yelled Connor, “You are deceived!” and he and Rhogar moved to position their canoes to block her from her doom. Undril protested that they were right there and was angered and confused that we would keep her from her friends.
“It is the Monkey Fever,” stated our guide, “she sees what is not there.”
Connor reached out and touched the side of Unril’s face, and using the power of his faith, made her sight clear again. While I had seen magic before, destructive and otherwise, it was a moving reminder of the might of the gods to see such a miracle performed. Undril was instantly healed.
We continued on our way, making camp and passing an uneventful night. The next day, our sixth since leaving the Port, found us fighting a current in the normally placid Shoshenstar. “A waterfall is ahead,” informed our guide, “we must go a little farther, then we will portage the canoes and supplies to the other side.”
As she predicted, we soon came to an area to fast to paddle through and making our way to the west side of the river, we proceeded to unload the canoes. It took a large part of the day to finish the portage, but by the time our travel was over the paddling was easy again. The night was uneventful.
The next day found us going past the still smoldering ruins of Camp Righteous. If ever there was a reminder of the hubris of trying to tame the jungles of Chult, it was this. The ruined tents and walls of the camp looked as if they were smashed by an angry god. The fact they lay strewn about the feet of a giant statue carved from the local rock added to this effect. While we briefly consider going ashore to see if anything of value had been left behind in the hasty retreat of the Blazing Fist, Undril reminded us that is not what we had been hired to do, and we passed by with the resolution to consider it again on our way back.
Day eight finds us so close to Camp Vengeance we were almost tempted to continue journeying after dark. Prudence won out, however, and we make camp.
That morning finally found us at Camp Vengeance, our contract to Lady Undril fulfilled. The camp, I must say, was not much to see, and it was apparent how the intrusion of man was resented by the jungle. The defenses were in disarray, the palisade showing the wear of recent attack. Half-starved men stood atop the ramshackle ramparts, noting our approach.
We were brought into camp and are presented to Lord Niles Breakbone, commander of the Order of the Fist forces in the area. He takes a high hand with us, demanding we divert ourselves from our quest to rid M’Bala of its evil to return his diseased and injured men, of which there are seven, back to Port Nyanzaru for treatment, and call for his reinforcement at the camp. We take exception to this, needless to say. We are not under his orders and has no authority over us. Besides, most of the men do not look like they will make it, and a quick inspection by Eku confirms they have succumbed to bad water, parasites, and various ailments of the jungle. We propose a different course to Breakbone: we will work to heal his men and improve the camp. He will not try to send us back to the Port, and we will continue on our way.
Lord Niles did not realize we had a Paladin of Moradin in our party and could call upon his power to heal. Connor began healing the sick and injured, and Eku set about educating the men of the camp on how to treat their water and prepare their food to prevent the recurrence of their ailments. Through the next day, the rest of us helped about the camp putting it into better order, and mainly assisting Eku and Connor with their efforts.
On day eleven, our work was done. The sick were healed, and the camp better off. Niles Breakbone, seeing his mission at Camp Vengeance saved, was a changed man. Gone was the high-handedness we saw on our arrival, replaced by an almost effusive gratitude. Arryn represented our interests, and secured for our efforts letters of recommendation from the Order, and writs of safe passage that could be used if we encounter the Flaming Fist who consider the exploration of Chult and the liberation of its treasure their sole dominion. We part now with Undril, but we hope to see her again.
Before we set off, the grateful denizens of Camp Vengeance present us with a purse filled with various tokens and treasures as a gesture of their gratitude. A quick glance at the contents shows natural gold nuggets and dust, small, but intricately carved stone figures, and jewelry of native make. It is probably worth two hundred crowns!
Day twelve passed uneventfully, but the river is broad and slow, the bottom shallow. We switch paddles for poles, and new muscles grow weary and sore from this unaccustomed exercise. We learn of the Aldani people, cursed by Obtao with the likeness of giant lobsters. We joke, not sure if our guide is having fun at our expense, but she grows angry at our mockery. She tells how they were stricken for their abuse of the bounty of Obtao—they grew rich harvesting fish and lobsters until the lobsters had disappeared from their waters. Their once great tribe retreated from civilization, and now live apart. We are sobered by the story, and her rage, and discuss the Aldani no more.
On the thirteenth day, we have entered an open slough, full of narrow channels, marsh grasses, and bamboo thickets. The air is thick with the buzz of the ever-present insects and the calls of frogs and birds. We estimate we are but two days from the plateau upon which sits our goal.
It is now a fortnight since we left Port Nyanzaru. The plateau of M’Bala looms high above us on a harsh scrubland. The day passes uneventfully, but the travel is harsh. This terrain presents its own challenges and dangers. We see forms in flight high above us, circling, perhaps eyeing us. The day and night that follows passes otherwise peacefully.
Day fifteen dawns. Our supplies are noticeable lighter, but Eku has kept us well provisioned, augmenting our supplies as we travel with local edibles. We will reach the plateau early tomorrow morning. As we travel towards the plateau, it grows to fill our vision. It is during a break for some welcome water that disaster nearly strikes. The flying creatures that had been pacing us finally decided they were tired of us waiting to expire, and one of them, a huge beaked monstrosity, its wings devoid of feathers—leathery skin spanned from its body to its wingtips—dove down on us with a scream of terror.
Its cry gave us enough warning, the dumb beast, and drawing my bow, I plant an arrow right in its breast. It continues its headlong plunge towards us, and Rhogar, taking one of his throwing axes made a skillful throw, finishing the monster. Its plunge of attack turned to its fall, and the beast was no more. We take its beak as a trophy, and camp at the base of the plateau.
The sixteenth day will have us begin the two thousand foot ascent from the floor of this land to the top of the mesa upon which M’Bala is sited…
An Uneasy Encounter and a Journey Prepared
It was late when we arrived pier-side in Port Nyanzaru, and much of the bustle seen in the daylight hours was on the wane. As we removed our equipment from the dugout canoes we had used for traversing the River Shoshenstar and stretched travel wearied muscles, Eku, in her heavily accented Common, spoke: "Friends, I will finish taking care of the canoes. If you are looking for some entertainment this evening, there is a special performer there. A traveller, and a bard, of great renown, who will be tonight performing at the Thundering Lizard. You would do yourselves a disservice if you missed it."
That sounded like an excellent idea to me.
"What do you think, friends," I asked, and there was general agreement that some entertainment would be a welcome respite after the long days of insects, heat, and paddling.
"Are the baths still open, I wonder," asked Osa.
"Surely, friend, they do not close in Port Nyanzaru," replied Eku. I had not heard such a good suggestion in a while, and by the looks on the faces of my companions, I was not alone. We set off for the baths.
I was a new man after a good soak and a scrub, the steam of the thermae followed by the mind-clearing effects and refreshment of the frigidarium made the hardships of jungle living seem almost a distant memory. Only the thoughts of the encounter in the temple of Obtao lingered. What path had I started down when I grasped the dagger Obtao's aspect had presented me. Violence. While certainly not afraid to defend my friends, myself, or what is right, I do not consider myself a violent man. With a shudder, I put the thoughts behind me and set out for the Thundering Lizard. Perhaps what I needed was some drink, some companionship, and some music to get my mind right.
Upon arriving back at the Thundering Lizard, I saw that I was the first of my friends to arrive, but the party was already in full swing. The Lizard had not had a crowd like this before our departure, for sure--something special was afoot. There were still several tables left that would provide us with a good view of the performance, so I snagged a likely spot and staked our claim. It was not long before Lord Rhogar arrived, and his intimidating dragonkin countenance was enough to discourage anyone from trying to move in on our table. We were quickly joined by the others, and we barely had time to order food and refreshments when the noise of the crowd informed our attention to the stage.
The innkeep was standing in the lights of the stage, and with a smile as wide as a wagon's track said, "My friends, it is with great pleasure, I announce the return of your favorite! Please show your appreciation for the bard, Selane!"
The tavern keeper briskly left stage right, and a beautiful, strikingly dressed, female gnome took the stage. With little ceremony or aplomb, she set down an instrument case in the front, center of the stage, and pausing for effect, began to play an elaborately carved flute carved in the likeness of a dragon. To say the music was otherworldly, or to describe it as inspired or transcendent would be trite, cheapening the experience. It sang of lost things and the parting of friends. There were hopeful beginnings, there were endings. Throughout it all, there was the telling of the weaving of a tapestry of experiences of life, strength, love, and perseverance. I was... moved.
At the completion of the song, her case rapidly filled with coin, and no small amount of my own appreciation. My friends, feeling the effects of the journey, and no small amount of ale, retired, save my stalwart halfling companion, Arryn. It was the first time I think I had been alone with him since we have met. Not by design, mind you, it is more that he has something of a presence about him that tends to consistently draw others in. We did not talk much, but it seemed the companionable silence of men who had shared hardships and come through, if not changed, at least unscathed.
Selane, recognizing us as adventurers, approached our table and greeted us. She shared with us her story, and it was like her song, tinged with loss. She had been like us, an adventurer, and in a gathering of friends who came to the jungles of Chult to find their fortune. The terrors of the jungle, one by one, took her companions until she was the last remaining member of the fellowship. I invited her to join our fellowship, but she demurred, explaining that her adventuring days were done. She left us with much of the same warnings we had been hearing since our arrival: the dangers of the jungle, the death that waits around every corner, but they seemed more heartfelt from Selane, less a matter of course.
Sobered, we turned in for the night, with the resolution to attend to the Nyanzaru's temple to Obtao in the moring. The night passed uneventfully, and as we gathered for breakfast, who was there to greet us, but our agent, Ju'tanfan. All smiles, was he, greeting each of us warmly and shaking our hands vigorously.
"Welcome back, welcome back! I did not ever doubt your return!" he effused, unconvincingly. "We must report to Jax as soon as can be. He awaits, yes?"
Finishing our breakfast with a haste that was sure to upset the digestion of a kobold, we withdrew to a side room, and some privacy. Ju'tanfan produced a mirror of some art, and holding it so that we viewed its glass, we rapidly saw our reflection dissolve into a swirling pattern that suddenly resolved itself into the face of our benefactor, Jax.
Giving our report, Jax was incredibly pleased, and he informed us that we had indeed completed all he had asked of us and more. The evidence we provided him, proving that the Host Tower mages were involved in the theft of the artifact of Obtao was nigh-irrefutable.
We had three more weeks to wait, however, before the ship containing the goods we awaited as payment arrived here in Nyanzaru. What to do? Three weeks is a long time to be idle, particularly for ones such as us—adventurers. I was particularly concerned about how this intermission would play on the sensibilities of our half-orc friend, Connor Stonehammer. He was one of those men, who if not occupied, would find his own trouble. A sturdy lad in a fight, Connor was, but around the civilized confines of town, he was the proverbial bugbear in the apothecary’s shop.
When we were done with our conference with Jax, and our agent had left for whatever other duties he had for the day, we began to talk at table about our plans while we waited for our ship to come in. I brought up the research I had done while in the Host Tower of the Arcane before our departure for Chult. While there were several leads that I had uncovered, I saw two that might interest the party. One was the investigation of the fabled goblin village of Yelyark, and the other, a journey far into the interior of the subcontinent, to the cursed city of M’bala. M’bala had been reduced to a ruin by a witch who was rumored to have eaten the populace one-by-one. I was sure this would entice the party. Riches, an ancient evil, a wrong to right, an evil sorceress—what wasn’t there to lure our hearts and ambitions?
First it was Eldred. He told us that his business required him to stay in Port Nyanzaru for those three weeks and would not be joining us in the jungle. Then, Osa spoke up, and her concern was that as dangerous as the challenges we faced on our last journey were, she was worried that the perils of a deeper trip into the jungle would be beyond our ability. We discussed at length, and I tried all the convincing arguments I could think of, but my friends would not be moved. Our fellowship was sundered, reduced to four: Connor Stonehammer, Paladin of Moradin, Lord Rhogar, dragonkin wielder of the two-handed scimitar, Arryn Hilley, the aforementioned halfling warlock, and me, Morgrim Calturne, erstwhile treasure hunter.
At a loss for what we would do without our full complement, I hired a boy to act as a crier. He was to run the city, advertising that there were adventurers for hire at the Thundering Lizard.
We four headed out to the temple of Obtao in an attempt to decipher the meaning of our haunting experiences at the jungle shrine. Connor, in particular, seemed troubled. Perhaps he was worried that his acceptance of the war hammer presented to him by the aspect of Obtao would be viewed as breaking faith with Moradim. When we arrived at the temple, it was immediately apparent that it had seen better days. Paint was peeling, murals faded. Birds had roosted in the rafters, nesting, and evidence of their residence stained the backs of the pews and windowsills. The glass that remained in the windows was smoke clouded and laced with cobwebs. Despite this disrepair, it was occupied. A lone worshiper and a priest were saying a goodbye.
[Insert the dialogue of their parting here, the Priest’s greeting to us, his revelations about the gifts, transformation of the doggos, and his disappearance]
With his prophecy, my mind went immediately to Merryl. Did it mean Merryl was coming here? Perhaps for all the dangers of the jungle and the undiscovered riches of the lost city of M’bala, there may be something that would warrant me returning without delay.
We returned to the Thundering Lizard, where we were met with the results of my impromptu advertising. A nobleman needed an escort, no details provided unless accepted. Pirate hunters were being sought by the city watch. A group was needed to gather magical ingredients from the surrounding lands.
The only one we really took seriously, as befitting a group of adventurers, was the prospect of hunting pirates. It sounded lucrative. It sounded dangerous. It sounded dashing. What couldn’t we do if we captured our own ship? The possibilities…
The priest, before his unsettling disappearance, had told us to seek Eku. We met with Eku, who when we told her we were resolved to go to M’bala and attempt to oust the witch offered her services as guide at no cost. Surely, she must have some tie to the events there to be so generous. Perhaps a loved one was victim to the witch? At any rate, her offer of provisioning and guidance was enough to make up our minds. We did not have much time. With only three weeks until the earliest expected arrival of our payment, we would be hard pressed to journey up the River Shoshenstar, travel overland to where M’bala was marked on my map, ascend its plateau and defeat the evil there before heading back.
It was then that we remembered Osa and Eldred. Our friends quickly agreed to wait for the ship in our absence, and assured us that if we had not returned by the time they had to leave Port Nyanzaru that they would make surety for our share of the spoils. Our fellowship was broken, but friendships are not so fragile things as that, and with their promises, we set out to replenish our supplies for the journey.
Our story so far...
Late August, 1492 DR
Between a Rock and a Hard Place: A Favor Owed
It was supposed to be a simple job--a rare item acquired and delivered to a client. You knew some people who could get it done and you made some arrangements. But the simple job, and your involvement drew the attention of one of the powers, and they were not pleased. How were you to know who you were crossing?
Now, you owe a debt, and you won't be safe until it's paid--but money is not what they want... it's your skills. You and your... expendable... skills.
Succeed, and the debt is paid--your name in the clear. Failure? Well, its best not to dwell on that.
Pangean, of the Shadow Thieve's Guild, contracted me to smuggle a person out of the city of coin. This person, who I did not know at the time was Lady Corhana Cassalanter of Waterdeep. She was kept drugged so as to be pliable.
Accompanying me was Blackstaff, a guild flunky who was supposed to ensure my reliability. We traveled with a heavily armed convoy, led by a reliable and gruff commander. Accompanying the convoy were 2 priests of Lathander, Haron and his partner. I confided in Haron, and we took the opportunity in Kzulla to escape. The church of Lathander facilitated our escape from a tavern and we accepted their sanctuary.
It was here that I learned that Corhana was the scion of an old and respected house of Waterdeep. Known for their magic users and sages, but recently fallen on hard times, there are dark rumors of disaster and ill tiding that now accompany their name.
Transported via magical portal to Waterdeep, Corhana was reunited with her family. I was received warmly, as her protector, and was given a family heirloom, a ring that is said to warn the wearer of mortal danger.
Waterdeep was no safe haven, however, and to prevent guild pursuit, I took ship to Luskin. Aboard the Mermaid's Folly, captained by the gruff but affable Captain Frederick, I met with a band of adventurers with whom I quickly bonded over the many drinks and card games. We resolved to seek employment together when we arrived in Luskin.
In Luskin, we stayed in Inn of the One Eyed Jack, under the auspices of the inkeeper Serena. There, we were approached by Seekha, a priestess, who was concerned about a band of ne'er do wells who had taken up in an abandoned temple of Tymora. They were shaking down the local populace while pretending to by priests.
We cleared the roustabouts and received our reward. That night, I was visited by the sultry femme fatale, Merryl, a dark elf. She made known that our actions were under observation by interested parties and that they, meaning her, would not interfere as long as we were not at cross-purposes. She hinted at a continuing relationship.
We took contract with Edrin, a High Elf, who wanted us to investigate caravans being waylaid by bugbears. One company of note, the Full Moon Trading Company, has never been attacked. We suspect they are in cahoots. Shortly after meeting one of their caravans on the road, where we exchanged pleasantries and passed in peace, we were beset by Bugbears.
A horrible row ensued, our fighters quickly flattened by an onslaught of javelins. I took cover and used sneak attacks to my advantage. It was hard fought, but we overcame, battered and bloody.
