TOPIC: Tomb Of Annihilation- discussion thread

Our day at the fort goes pretty much as expected. We acquired the permit and are told of a bounty on ghoul ears, which sounds interesting.
Later on, the fort is attacked by various undead. Our group start by engaging the creatures from a distance. I draw together magical energy and the usual shapes appear above my head as I compel the force towards my target. A large piece of the ghoul explodes and lands on the floor. The ghoul keeps coming, so I finish it off with my blade.
Another ghoul comes at me. This one looks a bit different to the others. It appears more powerful somehow. As I throw the purple beam of force toward its face, I see 3 dots above my head (always a bad sign). I stare in horror as the beam passes the ghoul's cheek and strikes a guardsman who promptly falls to the ground. With a much appreciated assist from Jayne, another ghoul down.
Our druid friend Elias, in bear form bravely takes on 4 undead as a time. Doing my best to assist him from a distance until we had reduced the assailants number. When Elias eventually fell to his attackers and transformed back to human form. I rushed in to assist under cover from Jayne to fend off the undead while Elias changes back to bear form.

We eventually fend off the attack and I notice the wizard casting spells outside the battlement. What is he up to? Has he seen another threat and not decided to share it with the rest of us? Maybe it's something he can handle alone?

As we were assisting with repairs and the wounded, I saw Jayne about to have an altercation with one of the workers and although she is perfectly capable of dealing with one or two of them, I thought I would intervene in case more joined in.
A sergeant settled the incident telling the crowd to get back to work. He also gave me the I'm watching you gesture, siting my error in combat, striking down his comrade with a stray blast of energy. Dumbstruck I lowered my head and retired to my room.

That night I had another dream. This time I visited a village, the locals were afraid. As I opened my mouth to calm them, flame came out of my mouth and burnt one of them. Fleeing the village and passing a river I caught my reflection, revealing myself as the dragon I've dreamt about over the last month or so.
I awoke covered in sweat and my skin itching more intensely than before. Where I had been scratching some of my skin has peeled revealing scales. This I find even more disturbing than the attack on the fort.

Later that morning we are summoned to meet with the major. I thought this would be a good opportunity to learn the fate of the soldier I accidentally struck down.
We are treated to breakfast by the major. I guess that was supposed to cushion the blow of her asking us to leave rather than supporting us. Preoccupied with thoughts of the soldier i may have killed, I let that slide. I ask the major for a word in private and after the others have left I tentatively approach the subject. Thankfully he is recovering in the infirmary.
As I leave to speak to one of my group to offer some healing for the brave soldier, I notice the familiar of the wizard watching me. I barely manage to hold back from turning his pet into a smouldering pile of feathers. He better have an apology waiting for me when I next see him or he might be the one smouldering.

My best course of action is to see if Jayne is able to heal as in my experience rangers tend to.

Instead of being greeted by Jayne's smile I find the screw faced wizard instead shouting in my face telling me "I'd better not do that again" and being accused of being a spy. The incredulousness of this man is remarkable.
To add insult to injury, he finally let on that he had seen a shadowy form that he believes was controlling the undead horde. When i enquired as to why he didn't let the rest of us know of the creature, he again got enraged and overbearing. Claiming we were nowhere near him, even though our group kept fairly tight formation. Although I'd kept quite mobile on the battlefield, I was mainly plugging weaknesses in our defence and I've learned a mobile target is harder to hit.
Someone who claims to be superior and thinks their intelligence supersedes all else, is surprisingly ignorant to the fact that we would have learned more about it's invulnerability, had we all had the chance to attack it.

Later we were attacked by weird frogmen. At least our experience stays interesting.

Thanks for the write-ups guys. You each get an Advantage die.

It is interesting to read each player’s perception of what happened vs my perception and, indeed, intention when playing.

All the write-ups are in character and take time and effort so well done to you all and, again, thanks for taking the time.

Tomb of Annihilation - Journal of Jayne Lockwood

Tamarin is dead. Almost a week has passed, but still I tremble when my thoughts wander back to the night our wizard fell. When I look back on my last entry, I wish I could undo the cruel words I wrote, but no matter how many pages I tear from this journal, it won’t change what happened. Perhaps Al-Zalam is right, perhaps it was Tamarin’s time to die. I wish I shared his belief.

The day after our battle with the toads, we stumbled upon a man-made track winding through the trees. We were still hunting ghoul ears to redeem on our next visit to Fort Belurian and their ghastly stench hung heavy in the air, so we followed the trail to an abandoned village deep in the jungle. I pray the villagers fled before the undead moved in, but the piles of sun-bleached bones we found suggest otherwise. The ghouls were acting strangely and seemed intent on capturing - rather than killing - us. I managed to slip through their rotten fingers, but the rest of my companions were rounded up and taken before a floating, wraith-like apparition. I could only watch fretfully as my friends conversed with this gristly spectre. Later, I learnt the ghost claims to be the former commander of Fort Belurian and that he was murdered by Major Liara Portyr! In exchange for the promise that we not intervene any further in his vendetta against the new commander, the ghost offered up two magical items; an enchanted longbow and a protective talisman.

Bound by our oath to the spirit, we abandoned the bounty on ghoul ears and headed back to Port Nyanzaru. As darkness fell over the jungle, our camp was attacked by a large pack of cannibals! Tashan put a half dozen of the savages to sleep with his magic and we quickly slew the others. Elias bound the survivors with thick vines while we debated what to do with them. Most of the party, myself included, felt it unwise to release the cannibals back into the wild, where they could menace other travellers less able to defend themselves. Only Tashan argued otherwise, stating it was not our right to play judge or executioner. While he and Tamarin argued, Al-Zalam quietly ended the prisoners. It must have been their time.

Tashan was not amused, but he didn’t have long to express his displeasure - as the biggest creature I have ever seen poked its head into our camp site and swallowed Tamarin whole!!! Azaka screamed for us to run and I didn’t need to be told twice. We fled headlong into the jungle, running for our lives as the beast crashed through the jungle behind us. It’s a marvel we didn’t lose each other among the trees. Looking back on that night, I wonder if we could have saved the wizard if we had only stood our ground against the monster. I suppose I’ll never know, but the question will haunt me until the day I die.

TBC

The ritual of rebirth is always carried out at the ancient mountain. My time has come. I move to my new form. The priest beckons me, I step forward and lie down in the birthing chalice.

I have seem this many times, my clutchmates have moved to the next stage. We know that the body dies, in shimmering force and agony as my immortal spirit is forged by the pain anew. I will become new. My new weapons and armour are placed into the chalice that I might be formed with them.

Music fills the air as I lie down. The rhythm of the beat matches both my hearts in counterpoint.

The spell commences, the priest chants invoking the blessings of the king, I feel my body dying, I feel it taking energy and transforming, the light intensifies, I barely hear the discordant sound at first. A strange harmonic grating on my pain ridden nerves. It intensifies, the light is blinding the pain unbearable…. A clammer of noise now so loud it obscures all. And then only pain…

I awaken. Something is tugging at me.

I open my eyes to see a human pawing at me. How is this possible? I stare at the creature. I can smell its fear. The tugging becomes more furious as fear lends the human strength in its desperation. I realise it is trying to take my sword. I raise my hand, marvelling at the new talons and feeling the strength for the first time. My rebirth!

I almost forgot the creature. The tugging resumes frantically, my claws flash out and grasp the creature around its throat. Perhaps I am to feed on it? Perhaps it is an initiation test? The creature draws a weapon. It glistens grey, I smell the sharp tang of iron. IRON! A Runelord has me! In panic I squeeze and the creature expires. A puny runelord. I taste its blood. the tang of iron from humankind is evident.

I look round confused. This place is dirty, it is a human city. The stench or the refuse and unwashed humankind is cloying and overpowering. Why am I hear? Where is the birthing? I grasp the small iron blade tentatively, my tongue flickers seeking the signs of engraved runes. But nothing.

I rise, the pain of the transition fading. I marvel in the power of my new frame. I am huge! I can feel the strength, the power. I look down. My tail is larger, I stand a full 7 cubits, and my mass is now at least twice what it was. My Klanth, and armour are at my feet.

I pick up the weapon, obsidian edged, the best I could make in preparation for my renewal. Where just moments ago I could barely lift it, it now feels duck light in my hands. I pick up the armour. The bright bronze shines with the a clear golden glow, smeared only by the refuse in this passageway. I dress, removing the smears on the armour with the cloak worn by the runelord.

I am ready.

I look at the runelord. His limp form lies at my feet. I grasp his coin pouch, and note the presence of coins. I open the pouch…. Gold! Several large pieces. A fortune. I had no idea that the ceremony offered such riches.

I wait, and inspect the alleyway. Am I to remain? Am I to leave? I hear the sound of people, humans? from the end of the street. As I watch, I hear a roar, the likes of which I have never felt. Grasping my Klanth, I advance down the alleyway, in time to see a huge lizard creature pass in front of me bearing what appears to be building materials. The creature is led by humans.

I step out into the sunlight, the place is teaming with humans, and elves, one or two dwarves and huge lizard creatures, mindless and enslaved. But this is not what has me speechless. It is the iron! It is everywhere. Weapons, tools, halters on draft animals, fitted to horses hooves. I gape.

The crowd stare at me for a while though none threaten, then they ignore me. They speak some ancient from of Sartarite, the language of lunar. I speak to one. He stares at me. Unable to understand.

I ask him where I am. I ask him where the birthing area is. He yabbers about not understanding then leaves.

I stop another, and ask again, this female again claims not to understand.

Bemused I stand and look around. A store opposite sells leather goods. I smell the tanning agent. A sign indicates it is a leather worker. The words are ancient sartarite, and poorly formed. Perhaps these are the peasant class, they understand little.

Approaching the leather worker, I point at the sign, speaking the words. He shakes his head? I ask for someone in authority. He shakes his head and goes to turn away. I grasp his arm, he looks fearful, I gesture at the floor and form the words “I seek someone in charge”. He looks at me, and thinks for a second, and scribbles in the dirt. A crude map. I ask, “whom do I see?” the worker, smiles and writes a name, “Sindrane”

I make my way to the place.

I see a tavern. I enter, and receive some strange looks, apparently I am unusual here? I have seen no others of my kind. Though some reptilian types, lesser forms were noted.

I enter and ask for Sindrane. Quickly tracing the name on the stone hearth and pointing to it before the creature could tell me he didn’t understand.

He nods and points upstairs to a room.

I make my way upstairs. I try to open the door, it is jammed or locked. I force the door open, a brief flash of light, shows some form of battle magic had locked it. The door opens and I see an elf dressed in armour, a human female, whose smell seems somehow decayed, and another creature, my eyes pierce the illusion and I note he is one of the dead, raised by the death rune no doubt.

The human female speaks, demanding to know what I am doing. I answer. She looks interested. She tells me to speak again more slowly. I do so. She traces a shape in the air, and gestures again for me to speak. I do so. She smiles.

“Ah, I can now understand you. Who are you and why have you interrupted me?”
“I am Szlar, I seek the birthing chamber. I seek to know what has happened, is this is a test?”
The human female covers her confusion quickly.
She asks a series of quick questions. It is clear that she is seeking to put information together in a coherent whole.

She encants once again. I feel the power of her enchantment. It looks like battlemagic but it feels benign. A sphere is white light erupts in the centre of the table.

She speaks quick questions the answers to which only she can hear.

Nodding finally, she addresses me.

“Szlar, I have divined that you are not native to this plane. You are not supposed to be here, or maybe you are? Maybe this is fate that sent you here. I am confused as your race appears not to be known to us. You are dragonkind are you not?”

“I am Dragonewt” my reply is one of pride.

“Interesting… you are not of here, and yet you are here. I sense residue of magic, some form of translocation spell, but the signature is wrong.”

I ask if she can send me back. She pauses, considers, and smiles slightly.

“I could. But I suffer from a condition that prevents my use of powerful magic. If you can help seek a cure to my malady, I will return you to your plane of existence. I will even equip you for the journey you must take. You will join my adventurers seeking a cure. When I am restored, I will return you. Is that acceptable?”

Pausing I consider. I am somewhere I don’t know, in a world that is unfamiliar with no allies and no real ability to communicate. The choice is obvious.

“Excellent, my servant will see you properly equipped, and you probably have several days to orient yourself before the group return. I will send my servant to assist you. Are you familiar with jungle?“

I shake my head.

“We will provide you with some help there then, welcome to my service, I am Lady Sindrane”

I follow the servant out, the Lady quickly fixes the door with a magical wave of her hand, and I am led to a place that sells items. The servant acquires many things. He then explains I will be instructed in their use, but simply have to wait.

I wait.

Finally I am introduced to a number of scruffy looking humans., and several elves., along with a short duck like creature with no feathers they call a halfling. I am to work with them. They ask questions, they appear not to know about us. Something called Dragonborne is mentioend, but apparently I am not the same as them. Our communication is limited, as none have the spell power to cast coimmunicvation as Sindrane did.

I smell the stench of magic on sevral of them., They are not? runepreists? I have been advised by Sindrane that the laws of magic on this plane are different and that there are different types. Divine magic practiced by prists (but not rune priests) and sorcerous magic practiced by others. She advised that there is no distinction between those using iron, and a power level to be able to use it properly. All persons in this realm use iron, it requires no special incantations to activate.

We are to rest, and then help a guide to find something in the jungle. I will no doubt get to see how these creetures fight..

Tamarin... Dead. He was arrogant and bossy, yet can I really be missing him?
I had planned to find a way to make peace with the wizard. After all the portent did state our group has the best chance of success. In time we could have been friends. After all I pride myself on being able to get on with anyone right?
I take it on myself to gather his things from our camp. Vowing to take that creature out if I ever gain the ability to trace it and the strength to do so.
Thinking back, I remember Tamarin giving his word to the wraith creature. In this instance, him speaking for the rest of the party worked in our favour, as none of the rest of us did.
It seems my irritation due to my lack of sleep has made me intolerant. I need to fix that, promptly.
We have a new member of the group sent to assist us. He can understand us but we cannot understand him unless he writes it down.
We have all agreed to help our guide to retrieve an item. This will help distract us from our recent loss.

“Dave, where are you?”

“DAVE!!!!”

“For crying out live Nar, cant you see I got a hangover…. One of them Chult worms was obviously spiked…. Jeeezzz.”

“Time to go to work Dave, things are moving quick.”

“You mean they levelled up and are now not crap?”

“No such luck Dave, but they appear to be on the real mission rather than out collecting Ghoul ears.”

Dave groaned and tried to focus. The events of the last few days were a blur, and frankly he was finding keeping his interest in proceedings difficult… the memories slowly came back.

First the fight at the fort… lot of undead, an altercation with a wraith, some infighting within the group. A deal of sorts with the wraith, (that had been a bit interesting, where had the wizard come up with the cohones to do a deal with undead?); then the race through the jungle and someone got etted by a great big f… off lizard thing… Dave shuddered, he then remembered why the worm bender…

“So fill me in Nar.”

“Well they have a mission to help their guide find a mask from the Terrafolk, the mask is some sort of ancient atefact belonging to their guide.”

“Well that sounds simple enough”, Dave was feeling a bit more with it, as the effects of the dodgy worm subsided.

“Yes, but they don’t know its 300’ up a column stack 10 days into the jungle.”

“So let me get this straight… they have agreed to get this mask, and wander through the jungle for 10 days triying to get etten by the large lizard thing?”

“Not quite, they are going through the jungle, but they have their own lizard thing… a Dragonewt called Sz’Lar.”

That sounded a bit more hopeful to Dave, “What’s a dragonewt?”

“Well, that is, can’t say I have had any dealings with them. It can’t talk but does understand spoken languages, it appears its own tongue is too complex for most humanoids, and it can’t speak the common tongue without magical aid.”

“Jezz, its BIG”, Dave would have been more properly awed had the memory of the other Lizard not been so recent… “Look at the size of that sword, but then again as old Elias used to say, it aint size that matters its how you use it!”

“What they doing then?” Dave was onboard now.

“Well the rogue Robyn Rouge, (no that’s not a spelling mistake), is busy playing games of chance trying to acquire a sum of gold to acquire canoes for the journey.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Well he isn’t dead yet.”

Dave surveyed the scene. He noted the Robyn slip a couple of cards from the deck into his sleeve, then palm a few coins. Sneaky bastard… Dave approved. The rogue had amassed a pile of coins and was getting up to leave. Job done apparently.

Dave went to survey the others. It was a larger group then previously. The huge Lizard thing, obviously stood out, the others pretty normal fair, though the Warlock did seem to have a thing for purple, and the female elf ranger seemed to be stroking a longbow continuously whilst avoiding the lewd comments from a particularly drunk half orc patron in the tavern.

Dave followed them out of the door, and noted a couple of the locals following the gold laden rogue. Dave stretched out with his feelings and quickly used the power of his metaphysical psyche to dissuade the would-be thieves… these are not the clowns you are looking for…

Having done his bit for the night, Dave decided to go for a nap… and maybe a quick worm.

The following morning found Dave looking on as the group mastered canoes… the circling, the splashing, the missed strokes, the Halfling monk nearly being swatted into the water by the barbarian who wasn’t even in the same boat. Dave looked on in disgust… Bring back Maria and her crew. At least they were competent. Dave did his best to ward off wandering critters with some success, the gods alone knew what would happen if they had a water borne conflict, they were barely able to deal with land-based problems.

Bored, Dave left them to it.

“Dave, get yourself back here, its time!” The Narrator was excited, and Dave wasn’t necessarily impressed. Looking down at the scene, the group were standing outlined against an opening in the jungle – well some of them were. The rest were – very sensibly – concealed within the jungle.

“Those Terrafolks are about to attack!” Dave waited with bated breath as the flying creatures circled and dived down on the group. Monk, Wizard and Cleric stood firm and pounded their opponents, not so the rest of the group.

The druid Elias (Dave still couldn’t get his head around that) was skewered by a Terra, and promptly fell to the ground. The warlock and the large lizard thing were also struck but less profoundly. Then the fight began in earnest, with the Terra things swooping in on the group. Dave noted with some pleasure that most performed well. The ranger’s arrows from her bow were accurate and penetrating, the Cleric (apparently a worshipper of some death cult), wandered the field smiting enemies and preserving the fallen, and the halfling monk appeared to want to leap impossibly high onto the creatures before reconsidering and pummelling them instead. Dave noted the big lizard things jump and grab one of the creatures, before hurling it into another foe. The group took some knocks Dave noted, but all save the Druid were mobile at the end of the fight.

“Nothing flashy, but decent enough.” Dave’s practiced eye identified a few tactical issues, and the Narrator concurred. “They seem to lack a bit of leadership, coordination, tactical awareness”, Dave gave his opinion expecting an answer that wasn’t forthcoming, the Narrator was busy describing the scene of destruction and the aftermath. It would be interesting to see a real challenge!

That came towards midday as the group found the tower. The pinnacle of rock stood nearly 300’ above the jungle in a large clearing. The place was obviously occupied by the Terrafolk. The sheer walls could be climbed, but helpfully ladders hung down from the open cave entrances dotted around the spire.

Dave was about to take a break and chill out when the druid quickly leapt up the ladder to the first level. He was signalling his comrades when he seemed to leapt off and plummet to the floor, albeit with Terra assist (was that copyright?). Dave recalled Maria didn’t try this until she was a lot more experienced and then only after Dave had provided some basic flight instructions. The result, predictably, was a bit messy. Muttering something about Faceplant, the Cleric performed some healing, and the group exercised more caution climbing the stack.

The lizard thing had some difficulty, his immense weight snapping the fragile ladder causing him to fall. Unlike the druid, the more resilient lizard simply stood and climbed the rope with a display of raw strength.

With all finally at the fist cave entrance, and with the druid healed again a brief discussion of tactics ensued. Dave was delighted to see the rogue push forward and scout out the cave. He, along with the druid and the ranger dropped into a pit and made their way around the tunnel seeking a way up. The remainder of the group (well the monk anyway) were remonstrating with Lizard about how he had broken the ladder, and how were they going to get down. Dave was intrigued to note the Lizard simply didn’t respond, obviously it hadn’t occurred to the monk that the way down was obvious… None of them were therefore paying attention when the Druid cried out. He, the ranger and the rogue were surprised by giant wolf spiders. The creatures leapt onto the druid poisoning him as he fell once more to the floor.

The ensuing combat was short but final. Once again the cleric proved his worth, in both combat and preserving the group. He reached out to Druid, but then stopped frowning, and then pronounced quietly “Your time is done”. Performing a quick ritual, the Cleric commended the druid’s spirit to this place of nature whilst the others looked on.

Dave was speechless. He’d been focused on the interplay between the lizard and the rest of the group. He hadn’t had time to see the attack on the Druid, he felt a moment of sadness.

“Don’t worry Dave, the augury did say 47%, the rest of them must sure take this as a sign to be more organised, and I know Elias’s soul is safe, and I happen to know the fates always provide something of interest.”

“Where’s the rogue?” Dave looked round and couldn’t see the sneaky elf anywhere. Fluttering round the corner and into a cave, Dave saw the rogue searching a body. He was palming a number of gems and some coins, paying more attention to the entrance and his comrades, than to his surroundings. The rogue didn’t therefore see the striges. Three of them leapt on the rogue. Draining him of blood, he cried summoning his companions into a storm of the vile blood sucking little creatures.

“Larceny has its price Dave, I just wonder who will pay it this time?” the Narrator’s mildly disapproving voice faded
“I wonder… “ Dave left the thought hanging, the Rogue was near death, several others had stirges attached to them, this could be a hefty price indeed, a price for lack of trust, a price for lack of cohesion, and ultimately a price for failure. Dave's view of the group changed a little. They were inexperienced, and did not yet have the ties of comradeship. Deaths and failrue would teach what logic and leadership hadn't. Dave waited to see the outcome as the stirges continued to feed...