Lust in the Lost City

[NewHere]

For the past several days, the alleys and taverns of Baldur’s Gate have been abuzz with whispers of the so-called death curse—a wasting affliction that preys upon all who have ever been brought back from the dead. Victims wither day by day, growing frailer until death finally claims them once more. Worse still, no magic—no matter how powerful—can restore them, nor can it bring back the newly deceased. Priests and scholars alike are baffled, unable to unravel the mystery of a malediction that seems to stretch not just across the region, but perhaps the entire world.

Baldur’s Gate—known to many simply as the Gate or Grey Harbour—stands as a thriving beacon of trade and opportunity on the Sword Coast. Merchants, wanderers, and opportunists alike flock to this sprawling metropolis, drawn by its wealth, neutrality, and endless prospects. Despite its reputation for gloomy weather, today the sun casts its golden light upon the rooftops, and the cobbled avenues are dry beneath the steady rhythm of passing boots. Though chaos lurks beneath the surface, the city’s ever-shifting population pays little heed to distant troubles. Few who dwell here were born within its walls; instead, generations of travelers, refugees, and adventurers have shaped it into a melting pot of cultures and ambitions.

Maintaining order in such a restless place requires two distinct forces: the Watch and the Flaming Fists. The Watch serves as the official constabulary, patrolling the lanes and enforcing the law among the citizenry. Meanwhile, the Flaming Fists—a formidable mercenary company under the employ of the ruling Dukes—stand as the city’s unofficial enforcers, supposedly tasked with dealing with external threats. In practice, they often supplement the Watch, though their reputation for ruthlessness and profiteering precedes them. While they relish their authority, they remain cautious not to overstep and risk jeopardizing their lucrative contract with the city’s rulers.

Though the fate of the living hangs in the balance, in Baldur’s Gate, the death curse is merely another topic of gossip, traded as casually as news of market prices or distant wars. To the untrained eye, life continues as usual—hawkers cry out their wares, revelers crowd the plazas, and the Watchmen make their rounds beneath the watchful eyes of stone gargoyles perched atop aging manors. Yet on this day, fate quietly weaves the threads of destiny, drawing together a group of strangers—unknown today, but brimming with untapped potential.

Your invitation to the estate of Syndra Silvane has led you deep into the heart of the Upper City, a district of wealth, influence, and impeccable refinement. Perhaps you share a connection with Syndra, or maybe you've only heard whispers that the affluent former adventurer is funding an expedition to distant lands teeming with treasure. Whatever the case, your path has brought you here. The contrast between this opulent quarter and the bustling lower districts is stark—the streets are pristine, the architecture grand, and the air thick with the scent of perfumed gardens rather than the pungent aromas of the docks.

A heightened presence of the Watch keeps the peace here, their patrols far more frequent than in the city's rougher quarters. The Flaming Fists, on the other hand, are a rare sight. Unless you are finely dressed, you draw the occasional wary glance from guards or a scrutinizing look from well-dressed passersby, some of whom are escorted by armoured retainers.

At last, you arrive at Syndra’s estate. The massive wrought-iron gates stand open, leading into a meticulously maintained courtyard where vibrant flowers bloom in neat rows and trimmed hedges frame polished stone pathways. The grand house beyond is a vision of elegance, its towering windows reflecting the afternoon light. As you cross the threshold, the chatter of the city fades behind you, and the weight of the ordinary world falls away. Ahead lies something far greater than mere rumor—something that will change the course of your fate forever.

Spoiler

Please, describe your character, share any relevant art, let us know how long have they been in baldur's gate, are they an outsider or a local, how did they get here, and what they've been up to in the city? And narrate their arrival at Syndra's estate! Once you have all introduced your characters and are ready to proceed, you may interact with Syndra's manor to continue. @DreamsnThings @WickedCadrach @roll to seduce

 

Edited March 9 by NewHere
spelling correction

[WickedCadrach]

Inoria's Prologue
"My pony, sir," Inoria said, repeating herself more slowly but no less pleasantly. "I paid the boy a silver piece as I came in from buying supplies last evening, and he told me he'd stable my pony while I took supper. I just wanted to retrieve her." The gentle, musical quality of her voice—honed by temple chants and poetic prayers to the Lady of Love, Sune—was beginning to grow as strained as the smile frozen on her delicate, elven features. In her fingertips, an artfully folded invitation crinkled as she suppressed a tremble. 

However, repetition did not seem to clarify the issue for the grubby dwarf manning the bartop at the Oak and Crosier Inn. He merely looked her over, his cocked eye taking in the clean white and ruby red of her flowing robes, lingering where they curved around her modest breasts and the slender bump of her lithe hips, but ultimately settling on the fiery brass amulet around her slim neck and the brilliant orange-gold of her wide, doe-like eyes. As he did, Inoria felt a dreadful cold settle in her stomach like a mossy stone.  

"Don't have a lad what works the stables," the dwarf said, setting aside a clay mug and grabbing a fresh one to violate with the greasy rag in his hands. "T'would be Barnus or the lass tending the fire there," he added roughly, not an ounce of pity behind his words, and he accented his final point with a flick of the stained rag in Inoria's face. "If yer tryin' to play with me, I suggest ye take yer chicanery elsewhere, lass. I'll have none of it."

Inoria blinked, swallowing back her nerves and trying to control them with the silent recitation of a manta before she spoke again.

"Good sir, I... I believe I've been robbed—"

"And I s'pose ye think my inn and staff are to blame fer it!" The dwarf scowled, his heavy lip jutting as he slammed down the mug and planted his palms on the bar top. "I told ye, we ain't got a boy what—"

Inoria didn't hear the rest. Standing in frozen politeness, she maintained her smile, folding the invitation between both of her hands to keep it from rattling and merely riding out the dwarf's outburst like a lighthouse taking the howling blasts of storm winds. She shivered and shook but did not budge. 

When the dwarf had finished, Inoria gave a graceful bow, her golden hair sweeping over her shoulders with liquid efficiency. 

"Thank you," she said softly, then rising, she added, "I apologize if I troubled you this morning." She turned, leaving the dwarf shamefaced and somewhat befuddled at her gentle spirit and peaceful beauty. At least, she imagined it so—she did not look back to confirm.

Lifting her backpack, Inoria began to trudge—pony-less—toward the Upper City. She had a few more gold coins to her name, but not much. She'd spent the last of it restocking her provisions and buying food for a pack animal that was no longer hers to care for. She spared a prayer for the creature as she walked—hoping that wherever it was, it was being well cared for. 

As she walked, Inoria Val'Beacent maintained her pleasant grace, trying not to let the ugliness of the morning's encounter mar her in spirit or with cracks upon her youthful face. She had done so with every challenge so far on her journey: when she lost the fine staff the Temple Matron had gifted her along with the pony for her overland journey to Neverwinter; when she'd lost the letter of introduction from her father and had found some of the crew making use of her prayer book's back pages for pipe wadding on the Waterdeep docks; and now, in the last hours of the five days she'd spent in Baldur's Gate, when the last of her rations and the loyal beast of burden that had come with her on this treacherous journey were taken from her... she did not waiver. 

Too much was at stake. 

Approaching the gates of Syndra's manor, Inoria thanked Sune that the powerful lady of the city had agreed to meet with her and sent a formal invitation despite her lack of a properly sealed and signed letter of introduction. Every curse victim she'd heard of or seen on the journey reminded her of what hung in the balance... In every one of them, she'd seen her own mother's suffering. 

The whole way to Syndra's garden, Inoria recited her introduction: "Inoria Val'Beacent, Acolyte of the Temple of Sune at Neverwinter, blood of Lord Gilhava Val'Beacent, given to the Lady of Love. I have an invitation to meet the Lady Syndra."

She was only mildly disappointed to find the estate open to her wandering in when she arrived. 
 

Spoiler

Inoria Val'Beacent
A slender, light skinned high elf with waist-length golden-blonde hair, fair elven features, and orange-gold irises. She is wearing a flowing white and red robe and a brass amulet in the shape of a woman's face with fire coiling upward for hair. 
She is originally from the north, near the city of Neverwinter, and came by ship with a brief stopover in Waterdeep. 
She has been in Baldur's Gate for five days, spending the first making her plea for a meeting with Syndra then resting, seeing the sights of the city (enjoying the food, drink, music, and what entertainment there is to be had), and attempting to replenish her supplies. 

 

Edited March 8 by WickedCadrach

[roll to seduce]

Grom was dragging his hammer across the pavements of Baldur's Gate. He was grasping a piece of paper in his off-hand. A summons to join a deadly expedition. He hoped that this job would be more fufilling than regular mercenary work. Or at least let him hit something interesting for once.

His hammer was an old orc-made tool. Somewhat poorly balanced for a dwarf. But Grom didn't care. He picked it up from a dead orc after waking up battered and bruised from a raid on a caravan he joined to get to Baldur's Gate. Unfortunately for him there were little left for him to loot, both in term of treasure or survivors. At least he got a hammer to drag with him to town.

Two goblin-made potions dangled from his belt. A gift from a goblin witch he'd manage to seduce after his banishment. A short fling due to Grom's lack of loyalty and the witch's chaotic nature. 

His beard was short, initially shaven against his will when he was tried as a traitor within his troop. He'd decided to switch side in a battle against goblin that seemed to be lost. However reinforcements turned the tides, and Grom was captured, punished, and banished.

Grom wears no shirt. Coastal lands were hot in Grom's opinion. His torso, arms and shoulders were covered in detailed tattoos. Markings that proved his training as dwarven warrior. They were considered an honour in dwarven culture, as each mark represented a different test. And as Grom had passed them, his clan was forbidden to cover them. Thus Grom shows them off in spite of his former home.

Grom was sweaty as he made it up to the manor. Wandering the garden blindly, he grabbed and ate whatever he could find. Waiting for the opportunity to find whoever this Syndra individual was.

[DreamsnThings]

"alright muffin, give me something here... regardless if we are in baldurs gate or balls gate we need to find the right damn place" a little huff left the painted red lips of the woman, the little weasel chittered atop the rabbit folks breasts, peaking its head out from her cleavage as if to argue with the girl before slipping back down, hiding somewhere in her black tailcoat as she let out a soft little sigh "yes yes, ill figure it out, no need to be cross." her green eyes slowly scanned the crowd, not only keeping an eye out for the estate, but keeping an eye on the watch... never hurts to know where the law likes to keep its watch...

her attention was drawn to a merchant at his cart, maybe a noble yelling at an employee... something about the employee not being there a half hour early was him being late... something about how the merchants shoes were worth more then the employee would ever earn in his life...

Felicity was... not a fan of this man, not at all. with a flick of her wrist she placed a... little illusion an image, on top of the cart... for now? it was simply the same view as what was there, thats where muffin came in, dropping down from the back of her tail coat, dashing through the crowd the little weasel dipped into the illusion, seemingly not there at all as he crawled into the covered wagon, digging around for something of note. before popping out, dashing down a nearby alley.

all said and done, the merchant was too busy being an ass to notice something of his had been nicked. his own damn fault the hare had to say, a few blocks worth of walking later, she turned down the alleyway, muffin quickly dashed back up the tailcoat, depositing the little bag betwixt her breast, felt like... a decent number of coins over all, as she was turning to leave as she noticed a kid in rags in the alley, dressed in rags... dirty... skin and bones...

a sack of coins landed at the childs feet, the words of the rabbit folk coming out seemingly indifferent.. but her actions said something else "That's yours if you guide me to Syndra's estate, I have an important meeting and im frankly already behind..."

a short while, a few "thank you"s from the kid, and a few annoyed chitters from muffin later she was standing in front of the gate. her green emerald like eyes slowly looking over the garden as she made her way in... looking at the... priestess reciting some sort of introduction... and a shirtless man eating whatever was not nailed down as he wandered about...

Felicity had to ask... "Am... I in the wrong place?"

[WickedCadrach]

The garden was glorious. Well kept, its trees bore beautiful, glistening fruit, and the fragrant earthy scent of enriched soil mingled with the mix of heady herbals and nearly odorless coastal greenery.

Inoria had taken a brief pause to take in the loveliness, to settle her mind and practice her introduction a final few times when the dwarf had tromped through. She heard his heavy footfalls first, gracelessly stomping with the rushing cadence of a march. A guard? Looking his way, Inoria threw the idea out immediately. 

Shirtless, covered in tattoos and marks of previous fights, he looked like a brigand. His beard was shorn too, and Inoria tried to recall if that was a mark of dishonor in this region. Dwarven beards were among their loveliest features—particularly when they were braided and oiled. Seeing this one so rudely dressed, still bearing the soil of the road on his body, she wondered if he weren't some highwayman or mercenary. His muscled body certainly looked capable of violence—among other things. 

Her musings were soon cut off though, as he snatched one of the ripe fruits and began to champ away. Inoria felt herself flinch. She'd grown used to coarse men on her voyage south, but something about the way he grabbed the fruit, eating without once admiring its shine or the tree it had come from—Inoria could feel his mere presence souring her mood once more. 

Nevertheless, as he approached, she gave a faint bow. It was only polite. 

"Sir, this is the garden of the Lady Syndra Silvane," Inoria said pleasantly, the poetic lilt in her refined voice pregnant with expectation, the subtext clearly reading: Are you sure you're in the right place?

Before he could answer though, a second figure spoke, and Inoria blinked in surprise that she'd not seen her approach. Doing a double-take as the emerald-eyed woman asked if she were in the right place, Inoria couldn't help but stare. She was harengon, rabbit-folk, in a black tail-coat—and lovely at that.

"I suppose it depends on where you're going," Inoria answered with a bit more warmth in her words. "This is Lady Syndra Silvane's garden. I'm going up to introduce myself and join the expedition she's announced. Are you also joining?" Inoria asked hopefully. Before hearing her answer though, Inoria gave a light laugh and said, "I'm sorry. I'm Inoria. Inoria Val'Beacent."

Edited March 13 by WickedCadrach

[roll to seduce]

"You don't look like the wilderness type!"

The dwarf butted in with an annoyed tone. Fruit juice dripping down his embarrasingly short beard. He scanned the elf carefully, an intense glare that commanded silence. And before either of them could muster the courage to response he added, to answer Inoria's concern and to assert his own position at this gathering.

"Though you spritely folk know all the tricks to foreign wildlands."

"I'm joining this expedition too. I was told there was a need for muscle, and that it was dangerous. I'm Grom."

He took another bite of the fruit, juices squirting in every direction and Grom slurping in as much he could while looking at the strange hare creature in front of him. He knew of people capable of transforming into animals. He'd lost brothers to goblins wildshaped into giant spiders. Though this was different.

"Cityfolk can really be anything."

He commented in confusion, not really knowing where to cognitively put the harengon.

 

[DreamsnThings]

felicity took a few seconds to look around, almost lazily in the moment but there was an air of caution underlying her actions that she could not fully hide, a small pair of eyes on a fluffy little face peaking out from her bust, glancing around with a much more present fervor then her own. noting that excluding the two... presumably soon-to-be-colleges, there was a noticeable lack of personal roaming around... at least at a glance, her ears flicked as she took a beat, listening for any footsteps, breathing, or background voices excluding those of her soon to be compatriots. it was right around then that the words of the lady priestess seemed a tad louder, a tad more directed... at her.

there was a long pause as Felicity took a few moments to realize the two who had started conversing had turned their attention to her. its ok fel, friendly face... "Why hello my dear and honest friend! it is an absolute delight to make your acquaintance here today! I am also planning to meet this mysterious miss Silvane, so I have to say its a delight to know I am on the right track! thank you so very much for clearing that up for me! it is an absolute pleasure, a joy, and all around a delight to meet you miss Inoria! or would you prefer lady Val'Beacent? the full Inoria Val'Beacent? Im sure we will have plenty of time to get to know one another so i would love to know what to call you!"

it was right around then that the words of the... dwarf? caught her attention, her fake smile cracking a hair as she turned her attention.. she knew he was going to be traveling with her, better to be friendly then to have someone unpredictable aiming that... energy at her. "well of course! the city is full of everyone from everywhere doing everything you can possibly fathom! it would be more surprising frankly if we were all cookie cutter copies of one another! its always such a delight to meet someone such as yourself with another flavor of background adding to the lovely mixing pot that is this wonderful place! and may i know your name kind sir?" turning her attention to the both of them she quickly added "my name is Felaris crysarin, but my friends, hopefully that includes the two of you now, call me Fel" she gave the two of them a grand smile as she lied through her teeth about her own name, keeping the nickname close enough.. thats when her little weasel poked his head out as she quickly added "and this little cupcake of a fluffball is called muffin, it is both of our pleasures to meet the both of you!" the little guy let out a squeak of a greeting as the corner of her mouth twitched, The friendly act was already growing tiring. hopefully this job would not run too terribly long.

[WickedCadrach]

Giving a nervous smile in reply to the dwarf's comment about her 'not looking the wilderness type', Inoria pushed a lock of hair back behind her narrow, leaf-blade ear. Had she overdressed? She'd wanted to impress Syndra by arriving in her temple robes and looking her best, but would it better show her commitment to have come looking ready for hard travel? What if she thought Inoria too soft for the journey and revoked her invitation?

Inoria's slim neck pulsed as she swallowed, speaking a little hesitantly after. "Um, yes, well... I hope that my other skills make up for what I lack in bush-craft, master dwarf." 

As she turned to listen to Fel though, Inoria's lips curled back into a wholesome smile, her eyes scrunching as one white sleeve came up to cover her mouth in a suppressed giggle that dispelled her anxiety. The rabbit-like woman's energetic way of speaking—as well as the unexpected appearance of her adorable weasel friend—had disarmed Inoria so much that she found herself nodding along in agreement almost instantly. 

"You're quite right," she said. "Baldur's Gate, and the world itself, is the more lovely for its variety."

As she said the words, Inoria forced herself to consider the dwarf beside them once more. Yes, in some ways he was savage and crude. His barbarism was clear in his speech and affectations. Yet, there was beauty in the strength of his arms, the intricacy of his tattoos. However, she did not physically turn to look at him again, content with the mere theoretical appreciation of some of his attributes. Much of one's devotion to the Lady of Love comprised of these sorts of exercises: contemplation and meditation to find the beautiful in the coarse and unrefined. 

Remembering suddenly that Fel had asked her a question, Inoria smoothed her robe and gave a short bow to her. "I am no lady. Though, I'm of Val'Beacent blood, my father gave me to the temple of Sune as a young girl. Please, call me Inoria." 

She would like to have introduced the dwarf beside her as well—it would have been the polite and proper thing to do in the circumstance—but to her shame, Inoria had not asked his name yet. So, she joined Fel in looking to the third member of their little trio with silent expectation. 

Edited March 14 by WickedCadrach

[roll to seduce]

Grom knew better than most than when things got the most dire, a friend of the divine was an important friend to have. Most priests he'd met where dwarven warriors or monstrous heretics he knew they all tended to be capable of mending broken bones.

He dug out a couple of coins that had found their way into his pocket. They were of various mints, yet all golden, and a couple of the fruits he'd pocketed from the garden.

"i don't know Sune, I hope she accepts gifts. Have some priestess."

He offered the gifts by placing them on his wide palms. He then turned to meet the eyes of Felaris, and he added:

"You can have some too. The variety of this land excites me. You can call me Grom, it is short for Grom. If you're joining this Syndra person too, we can be friends."

 

Edited March 14 by roll to seduce

[WickedCadrach]

Inoria stooped, a sweetly pained grin on her face as she attempted to catch the gifts Grom turned out from his much larger palms. As some of the coins, sticky with the fruits' juices, fell between her fingers, she made small apologetic noises. 

"Oh! Th-thank you, Grom. I, um, accept your gift to the Lady of Love with, oops, gratitude."

With a quick look around, Inoria settled the offering on a marble park bench, pulling a white handkerchief from her pack and folding it over into a practiced bundle that looked smooth and pretty as a present. Cinching the cloth with a loose ribbon from her prayer book, Inoria deposited it into her pack, silently reminding herself to deal with it before the fruit began to turn. 

As her new companions looked on, Inoria made a small show of pouring water from a skin tied to her pack to wash her hands, wiping away the juices clinging to her delicate fingers. And once finished, she extracted a glass vial from her robes, geometric and topped with a round stopper that caught the morning light. As she opened it, the sweet, inviting scent of perfume filled the air, and she placed a single drop on each wrist of her freshly washed hands before replacing the bottle. 

"Well, it has been a pleasure meeting you. I'm going to head to the manor now," she said, somewhat nervously. There would be no avoiding it. They were all arrived at the same time and would all be presented to the Lady Syndra together. Inoria only hoped the somewhat disreputable appearance of her two new companions wouldn't affect her own chances at being accepted into the Lady's service. 

(ready to head into manor)

[DreamsnThings]

There was a long almost palpible pause as Felicity seemed to stop paying attention to the two of them, a sly little smile lighting up her lips as she pulled in her own hand that she had offered for a shake. muffin had slipped back into her bust and slipped out of the back of her collar, chittering something softly into her ear. the rabbit woman had been nodding along well inoria lost interest in the exchange and started heading inside. a soft whisper leaving fels lips that only muffin could here "no no hun, we are going to spend a lot of time with them, best not sour the mood at the very start..."

muffin, the little scamp, found inoria's holy symbol rather enticing... wanting to nick it for ourselves. fel, being the reason between the two, realized that would be a poor strategy to stay in her new companions good graces... speaking of which, it just occurred to her that said companion was already walking off. with a slight trot, she followed after. smile plastered on her lips as she tried to keep a semblance of friendly banter. "well miss inoria, it is a delight to make your acquaintance, truly, and muffin seems to find you to be a delight as well" a little chirp a weasel came as the fluffy pip cleaners agreement from somewhere around felicity's hip.

her ear twitched as she glanced at the coins in groms hands, a delighted smile on her lips that seemed a tad more genuine than the one she had been showing up till now, if only slightly. reaching out she took a single coin from his palm before happily saying "well grom my good friend, thank you and it is an absolute delight too meet you today! I know a couple shops with good food and good liquor if you would like me to show you around later before we leave on this grand mission the lady of the manor is send is us on?" she seemed genuinely appreciative of the coin, she knew a collector who valued older coins, and somehow this man had a classic mint from the vang dynasty... this was an absolute win in her eyes

[roll to seduce]

Grom was happy that the others took the lead here. He wasn't quite sure where to even start looking for this lady. He'd assume the building was some kind of decoration and not a home given how fancy it looked, and not particularly ready for an attack. Grom wiped the juice off on his pants leaving sticky syrup stuck to his hands. He then grabbed his maul, dragging it across the stone road seemingly ignorant to the scraping sound it produced.

"Good food and ale are both great. It'll be rare to find out in the wild. I'll join."

[NewHere]

After a few loud knocks on the door of the manor that reverberate throughout the building in quiet echoes, the sounds of footsteps gently snapping against wooden floorboards approach the entrance. With a few clicks, the door is unlocked and swings open, revealing the polite but cautious smile of a human servant.

"Good day, sir, mistresses. Lady Syndra is expecting you," says she with tone that is unmistakably touched by a youth of poverty despite it's professional and cautious qualities. The woman stands at five feet eight inches tall, with a rather plain appearance—simple brown hair tied back behind her head, dark eyes, and a youthful complexion. She turns to lead you into the dimly lit interior, with little warmth or sound at all in the elaborate home. A number of pieces of furniture have sheets thrown over them with little care, and certain doors are thick with the sense of unuse. Her heels clack against the floor as she ascends a set of stairs, delicately lifting her long red skirt above her ankles as she does so, and moves around a corridor. Her apron is relatively clean despite its purpose, and she wears a tight-looking corset that bunches her breasts up, giving her a slightly buxom appearance.

"The Lady Syndra does not respond well to lights and loud noises at the moment, so the curtains are closed, and the room is lit only by candles. Please, if you can respect the Lady’s sensitivity to noise, she would be most grateful."

The walk takes about thirty seconds, and you have to act before you arrive. If you have nothing to add, simply say (Happy to continue) although feel free to interact with the servant or the house itself.

[WickedCadrach]

Inoria nods in respectful understanding. She assumes the affliction is something to do with the curse, and she feels a pang of sympathy for their host. The covered furniture and disuse of the house contrasts so much with the lovely garden that it sets a twinge of sorrow in her chest. 

As the servant warns about loud noises, Inoria looks back to Grom. She gestures with the flat of her palm to the dragging maul and mouths: pick it up. 

Looking to Fel and the sweet pet weasel of hers, Inoria takes heart at the simple affection between them and steadies herself for whatever they'll see in Lady Syndra's chambers. 

(Inoria ready to enter)

[roll to seduce]

Grom looks at Inoria with a blank expression. He takes a moment before his attention returns to his hammer.

"I don't think I'll need this against someone weak to daylight and yelling."

He releases the handle of his maul, letting it drop to the ground right outside the entrance.

He turns to face the maid and announces:

"Lady Syndra can compensate a new hammer if someone nicks this one."

With a lower voice he adds:

"This one's shit anyways"

(Grom will enter)

[DreamsnThings]

muffin chittered a few last words into her perky ears... "Take iiiiit take it take it taaaake iiiiit"
the little weasel was always like this, encouraging a lot of little thievery whenever the chance presents itself... half of what she stole was just to make the little gal happy...

snapping back to the conversation, she noticed the servant making their way over, seemingly a little worse for ware but over all looking like she got herself into a good spot... noticing the hints of her history... her poverty with a look... briefly fel considered giving her a nicknack or two she could pawn off for a bit of extra cash... but dismissed the idea seeing that she had a good job... she was probably atleast a little proud of herself, and might take offence to a handout..

it was right around then that fel made a note that the dwarf was leaving behind his maul... if the chance came up... she might nick it for a few extra gold... that said, it was fucking BIG and probably not worth the headache of trying to sneakily stow the thing...

meeting inoria's eyes she gave a sweet innocent smile, absolutely the picture of sweet naivity, friendly as can be. happily chiming in quietly, in a slightly valley girl-esk voice "well lead the way miss! ill be careful of my volume"

(sorry for the delay, Felicity will enter)

Edited March 20 by DreamsnThings

[NewHere]

Creaking loudly, the door to Syndra's room opens. A lit fireplace flickers in the corner behind a metal grate, and a few candles scattered around illuminate the room as the servant had described. The woman who must be Syndra was seated in rather peculiar chair, fastened with wheels so that it could be rolled across the floor. She's covered head to toe, though her feminine build is discernible nonetheless, with a white mask over her face though the rest of her body is shrouded in black. Her head shifts and she adjusts the blanket over her legs before speaking out in a dry, raspy tone "Help yourselves to wine, and seat yourselves, friends—I hope I may call you that."

The wood-paneled room sports a fireplace, comfortable chairs, and a heavy table bearing goblets and bottles of wine. The darkly panelled walls are hung with maps and sea charts. Racks, shelves, and cabinets hold hundreds more rolled-up maps and charts.

[roll to seduce]

Grom stepped into the room, the dwarf in him took in his surroundings before noticing the woman. 

As she mentioned wine Grom mumbled loudly to himself:

"Don't mind if I do."

As he waddled over to the table to grab a flask. He chuckled to himself as he examined the bottle; He loved this human-made stuff. It was so sweet, almost like a dessert. He bit the cork, pulling it out with a jerk before spitting it out like a bullet. He took a sip of the wine, taking a moment to experience the wine. Before looking at the elf who clearly seems to know the customs of this place to give him a signal of what to do.

(Grom'll wait to sit until the rest are seated.)

[WickedCadrach]

Inoria winced as the cork shot across the room, blinking rapidly while she kept her eyes fixed on their host and prayed that the dwarf hadn't just cracked anything valuable. However, the sight of her tattooed companion holding the opened bottle and looking expectantly up at her broke Inoria out of her momentary paralysis. 

"Of course. Thank you, Lady Silvane, for your hospitality," she said, and then more quietly, "Thank you, Grom."

Picking up a goblet, she held it out for Grom to fill, passing it to Fel before raising a second goblet for herself. She held the white sleeve of her robe back while she did, exposing her pale wrist and safeguarding against any droplets or slips of the wine bottle, and she moved with a practiced grace between her companions as she spoke. "It made my heart glad to receive your invitation, Lady Silvane. I don't know if you remember me, I was only a small child when you met with my father. I am Inoria Val'Beacent, Acolyte of the Temple of Sune at Neverwinter, blood of Lord Gilhava Val'Beacent, given to the Lady of Love."

The recitation of the introduction she'd been practicing in the garden came off with the cadence of a poem and Inoria accompanied it with a respectful and deferential bow as she took the offered seat. 

(Inoria sits, ready to listen)

[DreamsnThings]

Fel... was slightly taken aback, looking at miss syndra... encased in her own clothes, tucked away in a quiet room with barely any light... all to ease her own suffering from this curse... seems like even those with power have their problems... only difference between her and those who are poor, destitute, and impoverished... was she had the means to make something happen...

hence, the three of us, conveniently showing up to solve her problem

with a thousand wat smile she enthusiastically whispered with a slightly hushed voice "it is a true and honest delight to make your acquaintance, and based on your words, friendship lady syndra. and well I would love a drink, ill abstain until the business side of things are settled... last thing I want is to drink away the memory of this lovely meeting... and of the task at hand..." she held a palm out stopping miss inoria from giving her the drink... one of her compatriots seemed to fully trust miss syndra, well the other seemed naive for a dwarf like they did not fully understand what was going on...

Felicity was certain this would be a... long night.

[NewHere]

"Of course, it is wonderful to see you again, Miss Inoria," she rasped, adjusting her strange seated contraption to tuck herself into the table. She nodded also to Fel, to whom she said, "If you do not wish to partake, you are welcome all the same. Water can be made available."

She raised her hand momentarily, though before she had to call out too loudly, a servant approached and poured a glass of deep red, which she placed into Syndra's open hand. "Thank you. Now, I understand you are all busy people… so I shall not stand long on ceremony. In my many years as an adventurer, as one often does, I fell in battle. A devil’s spear," she clarified, placing a hand over her covered stomach with a soft wince. "A cleric of Lady Firehair was kind enough to ensure my departure was not permanent. It seems… this curse you’ve all heard about has struck me. I don’t know how much longer I’ll last before I perish. Clerics have no help to offer. They’re stymied by what is happening."

"My contacts in the Harpers have learned that the cause of the death curse is a necromantic artefact called the Soulmonger. According to their sources, the Soulmonger is somewhere in Chult."

She allowed them to interrupt with questions throughout her speech but had much to say.

"Chult is a peninsula ringed with mountains and choked with rainforests. Enormous reptiles, savage goblins, and an army of undead prowl its jungles and ruins. Mapping the place has always been nigh impossible, and nothing is known about the region’s current geography beyond a few miles from the coast. Working from dozens of sea charts, logbooks, and explorers’ journals, I have assembled everything known about the current state of Chult into one map. I will provide it to you if you undertake my mission. The land of Chult is famously rich with treasure for adventurers—more than enough to make a fortune to last a lifetime… though I can also offer magical artefacts as payment once your quest is complete."

Edited March 21 by NewHere

[WickedCadrach]

A genuine smile touched Inoria's lips as she listened to Syndra recount her death and timely resurrection at the hands of a cleric of Sune, the Lady of love, the Firehair. Inoria touched a finger to the holy symbol around her neck, nodding as she heard the former-adventurer's words. It was true. Even back near Neverwinter, her temple had been able to do nothing for those afflicted by the curse. 

Inoria's thoughts drifted to her mother again. She would no doubt be feeling the same pains Syndra was struggling with soon. As she stared at the masked woman, she could almost imagine her mother in her place, rasping... struggling to hold on to the life she had left. Blinking, Inoria refocused with a sip of the sweet wine, letting the bit of warmth it gave sooth her as she felt it run down her throat.

"The Soulmonger," Inoria echoed, tasting the word and almost feeling its foulness on her tongue. "From your research, have you learned what the Soulmonger looks like?" she asked delicately. "I mean, its form and size. Are we seeking an amulet? A cauldron? A sword?" She didn't wish to pester their host too much, but Inoria could feel the eagerness to begin making her hasty, and her fingernail picked at the engraving on the goblet in her hands as she held it tightly in her lap.

[roll to seduce]

Grom drank happily from his flask. Of course he shared with his companions. He was listening, but there were lots he didn't understand. 

"The scars I get from this adventure shall be enough payment. I can smash a box of souls in Chult, how did you even get sick from it if you don't even know where it is?"

He took another deep sip from the bottle as he started wandering to the maps, looking over each of them. 

[DreamsnThings]

"I appreciate the offer lady syndra, I would not mind a some water" watching her raise a hand for a servant, felicity raised a paw to call someone as well as she sat down... assuming some water was poured in one form or another, she would take a slow draw of the clear liquid, leaning back in her seat well she listened to the others for now..

nodding along with syndras words, she knew a little of the fully garbed girl before her... and this all lined up with the history she knew, the soulmonger on the other hand... that was news... her lapine ears shooting up as muffin poked their head out, raising a paw well stairing daggers at a poor servant... wanting a water for herself.

then... the dwarf spoke, and she felt a need to clarify "grom was it? your a man of nature yes? so im assuming you have seen a river, and walked along its edge in some capacity? its just a guess but im thinking departed souls are stuck in that river in some way, and are being dragged towards it... and since miss syndra's soul had... "started" departing when she was injured... well she is now being dragged by that river towards the soulmonger. atleast thats my guess going off what we know so far... its not that its making her sick... its that the river styx is trying to drag our dear lady syndra off to the underworld... does that make sense?" fel was trying to help... but in the process lost a little of the persona she was pushing up until now, sounding slightly condescending even as she made an effort to still sound friendly.

"frankly I would not be surprised if this was the work of a necromancer, mostly trying to gather souls for some foul magic... but dragging living souls that have one foot in the grave along the way... again, just a thought" it occured a tad late that this might not... be the most comforting thought to someone on the verge of having their own soul dragged down that river... to gods know where... she really hated having to deal with people like this, left a bad taste in her mouth having to tip toe around a topic...

Edited March 22 by DreamsnThings

[NewHere]

Indeed the servant pours a cup of water for Felicity wordlessly, she's ever-present though never makes her presence known unless requested.

"That is my understanding, more or less, miss Felicity. I can only admit a lack of knowledge on the specifics of this device, it's name is known and little more. Attempts at divination that I have made... Have failed me, alongside many others."

The maps on the wall show a variety of locations across Faerun, some of them appear to be relatively new but others are ancient and feature small notes and crosses along their various journeys, signs of practical use in years long since past. Many of them seem to feature routes through or neat chult, maps which are vague barring a line of travel in which more detail is given. There is one painting that comes to mind that Grom inspects, one of overwhelming beauty in a land beyond recognition.

"There is a large history of undead stalking the jungles of chult, it would not be unreasonable to presume they are involved... But an artifact with the power to manipulate souls across the whole world is an extra-ordinary power... And it must surely be destroyed. It is not clear to me how much time remains for those of us who are fading, I have far more vitality than most and already see extremely potent effects."

The former adventurer reaches over to a staff that leans against the desk and clutches it tightly as she explains "When you're ready to depart, I will teleport us all to Port Nyanzaru, the only major settlement in Chult. I've been there several times before, so there's little chance of mishap. Once there, I'll stay with a friend named Wakanga O'tamu. He's one of seven merchant princes who rule the city."