D&D 5E (IC) Fitz's Folly

[Fradak]

Flamerule, Year of the Warrior Princess - Somewhere in Hell

High Lord Doom Indraeyan,

I've lost the count of days since we left camp Vengeance, as the heat and humidity of this jungle are slowly penetrating my bones and soul. I failed you, my Lord. Death embraced me twice before releasing her grasp, thanks to my companions. It's seems Kelemvor wanted me here finally but I have to say, He has the gift of suspense.

The lost ruins whispered a name: Omu, where it was told that we'll face Acererak. An enigmatic omen, which became our next step. We're entering uncharted territory now, making up history as we go along.

You told me once - Don't tell your God how big your storm is, tell the storm how big your God is.
I thank you for your wisdom and I pray for you, My High Lord Doom. May The Judge enlighten me along the path.

Chrysagon of Mir, your faithful Iron Brother.

 

[FitzTheRuke]

Qawasha considered Rodrigo's question and answered quietly, "I have no idea, but I would like to think so. The tabaxi people can be ferocious when crossed, but I have never heard of them to betray guests - they would be more likely to have attacked us in the swamp. Also, if Myrral says that they are aware of the Death Curse, I see no reason why they would choose to impede our progress rather than to aid us.."

 

[FitzTheRuke]

After a good night's rest, the Sticks awoke to find that most of the Tabaxi were still sleeping in their piles, the firepit was smoldering low, and the grand hut smelled peculiar, but not entirely unpleasant.

The nameless man known as Harb awoke to find that Ukee the winged monkey was tucked under is arm. An elderly Tabaxi female was watching them, with a twinkle in her cat-like eyes.

 

[gargoyleking]

Harb carefully disentangled himself from the monkey, laying the animal on the pillow he had been using. He returned the tabaxi's Gaze with a questioning one of his own.

 

[KahlessNestor]

Chult
Morning
Round 0

Dellrak trucked along with typical dwarvish stoicism as the party made their way to the tabaxi camp. He knew the catfolk were trying to confuse them, and he did his best to try and remember so they could make their way out.

They were greeted kindly as guests. Dellrak roasted a few of the birds, since the tabaxi didn’t seem to actually cook anything. What was with them trying to feed them poisonous fruit, though?

Finally everyone turned in for the night, sleeping all together in the large hut of the chieftain. Before he went to bed, Dellrak cast his last two spells of the day, making more goodberries.

The morning dawned bright, with many of the tabaxi still piled up in sleep. Dellrak went out to relieve himself, asking one of the sentries where the latrine was, and made up a small fire pit on the edge of the village to cook some breakfast for the party.

“We’ll be needin’ t’ negotiate f’r some food an’ fresh water an’ other supplies.”

OOC: 20 points of goodberries available.

Spoiler: Dellrak Actions

Save:
Move:
Free Object Interaction:
Action:
Bonus Action: Planar Warrior
Reaction: Opportunity Attack
Conditions:
Concentration:
Inspiration:

Spoiler: Mini Stats

Dellrak Character Sheet
Initiative: +1
Perception: +4
Speed: 25
AC: 15
HP: 40/40 HD: 4/4d10+2

Bolts: 19
Bolts used: 0
Arrows: 19
Arrows used:

Detect Portal (1/R): Within 1 mile
Planar Warrior: As a bonus action, choose one creature you can see within 30 feet of you. The next time you hit that creature on this turn with a weapon attack, all damage dealt by the attack becomes force damage, and the creature takes an extra 1d8 force damage from the attack. When you reach 11th level in this class, the extra damage increases to 2d8.
Primeval Awareness (action and spell slot): For one minute per level of spell slot, detect within 1 mile (6 in favored terrain) aberrations, celestials, dragons, elementals, fey, fiends, and undead. This feature doesn’t reveal the creatures’ location or number.

Spells
1) 3/3 Protection from Evil/Good (Horizon Walker), Jump, Goodberry, Longstrider

Spoiler: Party

Rodrigo Di Castalone - male human fighter
Miss Imogen - female samurai, party member, Zhentarim
Chrysagon - male aasimar paladin, Order of the Gauntlet, Kelemvor
Harb - male human monk
Qawasha (NPC) - Chultan druid
Kupalue (Weed, NPC) - vegepygmy
Wulf Rygor (NPC) - Half-elf scoutmaster, Camp Vengeance
Tarri (NPC) - cartographer, Camp Vengeance
Kasqa (NPC) - Chultan warrior, Camp Vengeance

 

[Neurotic]

Myrral enjoyed the feast immensely. It was first big thing ever since the curse started. And the strangers really had a strange ways. They put their meat in fire! And didn't eat catnip!

He tried their meat.
"It was juicy and soft! And had so much stronger smell!" he sneezed several times. "But fresh blood smell was missing. Interesting. I will see if there are negative consequences for my stomach. Meh, time for that later"

He danced, he sang and observed the strangers. He joined plenty other youths in smelling, touching, teasing and challenging them to various feats of strength or agility. But they remained fairly distant - which was understandable if one thought about it. Some of them were agile and quick. On average, it seemed Tabaxi were better at it.

He especially tried to parade in front of their female.
"She is obviously different and since she doesn't dress as a warrior maybe she isn't one. Except she has a well-used and maintained bow. But then, maybe her culture didn't treat warriors as single caste. Maybe there were male warriors and female warriors?! What a strange thought! This will be fun!"
But she didn't seem to recognize the gesture except in most general manner. He will need to work on it.
"They cannot know our customs, cub! Morr-rron!"
Myrral knew about cultures with different norms. But this is his first real contact with the group of humans. "And a gnome? Let's see. No, it must be a dwarf. With that mane on and under the head - face mane?! dwarwhiskers?! - gnomes are like goblins, but nicer. Dwarves are like dragonborn. But smaller. OK, that's it."

In the morning he extracted himself from the pile leaving a cold Myrral-shaped hole which immediately started to wreathe about as adjacent bodies seek the comfort and warmth of the pile. Finally, huge, muscled arm reaches out from below and pulls one tribemember from the edge and plugs the hole.

Myrral nods to those already awake, finds some food and water and collects it to find the strangers. There is lots of planning and catching up to do.

 

[FitzTheRuke]

The old woman had been trained in the common trade-tongue when she was young but had never used it. The skill was rusty and she said, "Mmmunkeee rrrikes yooo. Ssshe an'yooo hafff bondd."

And then proceeded to say a bunch of gibberish that Harb could not understand a word of. In desperation, she looked around for someone better with the language. Myrall was young and was recently taught the language, in case he ran into outsiders. She waved him over.

OOC: Myrall knows her to be Hhrawwll (Waterfall), an wise old witch who's considered strange even by tabaxi standards. Very in tune with animals. Something like a druid, I suppose.

 

[gargoyleking]

Harb cocked his head to the side slightly, trying to make sense of what the female said. Then he looked down to Ukee while he waited for her to find a translator. The monk was used to a life of solitude. And the thought of developing any kind of bond with another creature felt strange to him.

 

[Kobold Stew]

After a night's sleep, Miss Imogen feels her bruises healing. When she washes inthe morning, and her wounds beginning to close. Her skin is a ghastly yellow and purple on her legs, her upper bow arm, and her ribs, but she feels much better.

OOC: Spend one die healing (Assuming she can spend it) healing would be 1d10=7. That's back to full.

She takes one of Dellrack's berries, and feels sated. "Thank you, she says, dropping her eyes, and looking around at the village.

 

[Neurotic]

OOC: Myrall knows her to be Hhrawwll (Waterfall), a wise old witch who's considered strange even by tabaxi standards. Very in tune with animals. Something like a druid, I suppose.

Myrral approaches the group carrying remains of the dinner to offer them breakfast. "Maybe you want to burn the food again?"
He asks offering the meat.
Myrral growls a question at the old dam. And then translated for Borde whatever she says.

When everyone is awake (and he makes sure that happens sooner rather than later)
"How soon can we talk about what you know, where you need to be and what needs to be done? The hunt is on!"