#maritsa stormwind

[callioope]

We have been trapped in a dungeon for four and a half sessions

and today towards the end of our session, we finally found a chamber with a hole in the ceiling -- sunlight streaming in!!!! and we were!!! so close!!! to leaving!!

but we thought it’d be better if we went looking for stairs instead of messing with a rope (well, the rope was plan b)

we did find stairs

that went up

and up

deeper into an upper story of this stupid temple!!!

so basically we are still in the damn temple lmao

I mean -- it makes sense, one of our party members was sent here and we haven’t really found a reason why yet, so it makes sense to keep looking

i just find it hilarious that for the last 4 sessions, we’ve been like “ugh we need to get out of here” frantically exploring for a way out (there was a poison gas in the tunnels that dealt 1d6 damage every hour), and when we finally do we actually decide to look around a little more

[callioope]

Today’s D&D Session was pretty exciting! 

First, we entered a large room with a diorama on the floor. The diorama was divided into six main areas: fire, worms, marsh, ice, canyon, and grass. Plus, there was a small section by the door we came in that was not part of the diorama, and then at the very middle of the diorama was small hill made of dirt.

Our warlock went in first, straight for the “worms” section (which was sandy). After about 6 seconds of standing there, he had to make a Wisdom saving throw. Uh oh... so then our rogue went out but he went to the “fire” section, had to make a Constitution Saving throw. Warlock moved to the grass area, Charisma saving throw... okay, we can see where this is going.

Everyone comes back to the ‘safe’ area and we spend some time planning out our next move. Above the hill, there’s a chimney that looks like it’d be pretty easy for us to reach with one person standing on another’s shoulders. Then across the room, there’s a door. I suggest casting Bless on some or everyone, but note that I only have 3 spell slots available (out of a usual total of 9) -- we haven’t had a chance for a long rest since August, five sessions ago, when we originally entered this pyramid.

Eventually, we conclude that since our warlock has a high Charisma, he’ll stand in the grass section and and mage hand the door open, then we’ll all dart inside. I do not cast Bless on anyone.

So the door opens, the warlock can only see dirt. He darts into the room, followed by the rogue and then our monk. 

And then they’re immediately told to make both a Strength saving throw and a Wisdom saving throw! (Damnit) the reason? there’s an abomination in the room, a horrible fleshy mass of eyes and teeth. UGH yuck!

Battle commences! Everyone in that room has to make a Strength and Wisdom saving throw every turn! Everyone who tries to get close to the door has to stand in either the grass, canyon, or fire section of the diorama and make saving throws! Actually the canyon was just a really “hot” feeling with no saving throw, we never figured out what that was about.

So naturally, with her -1 to Dex, my cleric is the last in the initiative. She’s decided to cast Bless. She moves into the grass area in order to reach everyone. At this point, the DM says I can see the creature, and can see it looks like it’s doing pretty badly. Well, I’ll take the hint, I think, and instead I cast Sacred Flame (since it’s a cantrip). I’m level 5 now so it does 2d8 damage, which isn’t bad, but I end up rolling 7 damage. Boo. 

Fortunately, it goes down at the next hit, so we actually are okay. 

But that’s not all!

So after constructing a gold ladder out of rope dipped in a magic gold-making basin in a nearby room, we end up discovering the saving throws only happen when our feet touch the ground. We use the ladder to go up into the chimney and we’re fine.

Continuing through the temple, eventually we come across another room.

At the center is the preserved body of a centaur -- basically like a mummified centaur. The druid suggests we burn it immediately. My cleric counters that we shouldn’t desecrate the temple. The druid reminds her that we’ve already done that. The cleric rephrases to say “we should desecrate the temple any further.” 

The druid finally agrees, but reserves the right to say “I told you so.”

We’re careful as we explore the room. Taking two pieces of treasure from an urn doesn’t wake the centaur. Us talking and moving around doesn’t wake him. 

The rogue pushes a button to open the door to the next room. 

And the centaur rears up to attack!

*facepalm*

It was a tough battle. Physical blows only deal half damage. The rogue goes down. My cleric uses her turn to heal him, and tries to do Sacred Flame but the creature succeeds its’ Dexterity saving throw. After dealing over 100 points of damage, with nearly no spell slots left amongst the spellcasters, it’s looking pretty brutal.

Then it’s the cleric’s turn again. She casts another Sacred Flame for again something like 6 damage, but “How do you want to do this?” !!!

At this point, druid and cleric are exhausted with barely any spell slots left. We really want a long rest, and it’s so hard to get in this jungle. We thought, since we were inside away from the jungle climate, and since were out of the poison gas level of this temple, that we might be able to get a long rest, but alas, apparently this part of the temple is “too dangerous” for us to feel secure, so we settle for a short rest. Which doesn’t really help my cleric at all bc she’s fine on HP and hadn’t used a channel divinity since the last short rest.

We continue forward, winding our way through the temple, and eventually come across a room with a large image on the floor. There’s a statue in the center of the back wall of a woman with a mace. Now, we’ve seen this woman depicted in other parts of the temple, and we’ve even found pieces of the mace she holds. We’d thought we’d found all the pieces, actually, although for some reason when we put it all together, something didn’t quite “work.” 

Our monk knows the local language, so he translates the words along the statue. It says “for the faithful to touch.” Now, my cleric already wields a mace, so she’d been given the pieces. The monk suggests she touch the stone. She is faithful, after all. She kneels before it, meditating, and then places her palms on the base of the statue. After a long pause, she’s blasted backwards, feeling a spark of energy flowing through her into the mace. It thrums in her hands, runes lighting up with a blue light. 

Feeling a sense of “peace” in this room, we conclude that it is safe for a long rest, and finally get one.

AND WE LEVEL UP TO LEVEL 6!!!!!

Huzzah!!!

Also, I now have a rare weapon with super cool powers!!! +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls, plus it has 2 charges that allow me to heal up to 3 people any time I hit an evil-aligned creature with the mace. SWEET! Recharges at *dawn* (rather than every long rest), also sweet.

All in all pretty exciting!

Oh, and I forgot to mention but there were some images in the room that gave some info to our warlock about his backstory and his people’s connection to the temple.

[callioope]

building my D&D characters in Hero Forge is self care...

Maritsa Stormwind, Human, Cleric, Life Domain, Lawful Good Tomb of Annihilation Campaign Number of Sessions: 18 First Session: June 2018

Maritsa hails from Neverwinter, but has spent most of her recent months in the jungles of Chult, searching for the cure to a horrible curse that ultimately took her good friend, Mirren. She worships Ilmater and would lay down her life for her party -- even if they are a bit, erm, odd. 

Upon her arrival in Port Nyanzaru, she picked up the taste for dancing monkey fruit, and then promptly lost it after the fruit compelled her to dance (rather embarrassingly) in front of the entire bar. Her initial venture into this remarkably foreign region continued to go poorly when a desperate man beseeched her aid in rescuing his innocent husband from imminent execution. Maritsa’s high insight confirmed the man’s innocence (or, more specifically, the desperate man’s belief in his husband’s innocence), so she agreed to help. But it’s against Chultan law to interfere in executions. When she was caught, she was given an ultimatum: prison or hunt down an infamous pirate captain plaguing the Chultan shores. (Maritsa maintains the man’s innocence to this day, despite the records of his crimes, which must have been fabricated.)

Maritsa’s party ultimately was successful in hunting down this pirate captain (an escapade that included commandeering a pirate ship and rescuing a fellow cleric), though it took several weeks and greatly delayed their mission.

When the dust had settled over Maritsa’s intervening, the party hired a guide named Eku and ventured forth into the dense jungles of Chult. They’ve seen beautiful dinosaurs the likes of which they could never imagine, fought hordes of terrifying zombies, and narrowly escaped a trapped temple (thanks to Maritsa’s clutch healing abilities). They also encountered a hag, who tricked them and stole a lock of Maritsa’s hair; she’s been cursed ever since.

Eventually, their trek led them to Camp Vengeance. They expected this camp to be a welcome refuge, as they’d enjoyed only one long rest during their weeks in the jungle. But instead, they found the camp waylaid regularly by zombie attacks. They agreed to help with the next one. During the battle, Maritsa met and fought alongside an impressive guard named Perne Salhanna. A powerful fighter, Perne dealt damage left and right, taking out ghouls and the like -- and, well, Maritsa couldn’t help but take notice of her. 

Perne accompanied them to hunt a second hag, who had apparently been the source of the zombie attacks. During their second battle together, Pern proved her battle prowess even more. But sadly, after the hag fell, Perne had to return back to Camp Vengeance, while Maritsa and her party’s mission called them deeper into the jungle.

They parted ways with a hug: after a contested strength check, which Perne won, lifting Maritsa off her feet. Surprising Maritsa even more, Perne handed her a charcoal drawing of the two of them, which Maritsa takes out sometimes, on long, muggy nights when she can’t sleep. She hopes that some day she’ll be able to see her again.

Most recently, the party’s journeys led them to a temple. Shortly upon entering they discovered a crypt that, when disturbed, appeared to be the resting place of a rakshasa. The beast stole a precious heirloom from one of Maritsa’s friends, and as they explore the rest of the temple, she’s hoping she can figure out some way to help him get it back. But they don’t know where the rakshasa has gone, and they can’t afford to deviate any longer from their original quest...

Details of Maritsa’s adventures can be found in my “From the Diary of Maritsa Stormwind” tag and sometimes my “liz plays dungeons and dragons” tag, although there’s other stuff there, too.

[callioope]

So here’s how our Tomb of Annihilation session ended today:

Exploring an underground temple, we found ourselves in a large room with ten triangular pillars circled around an eight-foot monument. We figured out a puzzle of glyphs to open the monument. As our monk goes to climb in to take a look, we all agree on the plan: look first, check for traps, then touch. 

Our monk and druid peek into the monument and see a skeleton wearing a mask, a ring, and a few other adornments. He’d cast Detect Magic earlier, and can see the ring is magic. They relay what they see.

As the cleric, I remind them to “Check for traps!” and tell of a story I once heard about some people that died opening a crypt and not checking for traps. I also offer to cast Detect Evil and Good, in case the skeleton is undead. No one really answers, and since we don’t get long rests in the jungle, I decide not waste a spell slot. So I just add one more “Check for traps.”

The monk waves this warning away, saying if there had been any traps, he would have triggered them climbing up. He then takes the mask, punches the skeleton skull in to break it, and takes the ring. 

“No traps,” says the DM.

The monk pulls away, and as he does, the skeleton reaches out. He watches as the bones thicken, the sinew stitches itself together, a layer of skin spreads across the bones, striped, orange fur sprouts -- the entire body faintly glows as if from an inner light. Now, our monk is a Tabaxi, so for a split second, I thought -- maybe it’s one of his kind? 

But then where its eyes should be glow two gaping holes of infernal yellow light. The monk looks down at the hand tightly gripping his wrist and realizes: it’s backwards. We’ve just disturbed the resting place of a RAKSHASA!!! 

And that’s where we ended our session!

[callioope]

well, today we found out we accidentally sent a frost giant after a character that’s important for protecting the land

[callioope]

Is there anything as glorious as a "how do you want to do this?" directed your way?

[callioope]

Nothing like a zombie battle in a dinosaur jungle to take your mind off things

[callioope]

A couple weeks ago, I posted a recap of my last D&D session for the Tomb of Annihilation campaign that I’m in. You may recall, I ended on a bit of a cliffhanger! Well, our adventures continue...

From the Diary of Maritsa Stormwind, Level 4 Cleric Camp Vengeance, Deep in the Chultan jungle, along the Soshenstar, far upriver from Port Nyanzaru

Battle of the Undead (cont’d)

Peeking through the front gates, I could see, far across the camp, by the southwestern corner that the undead had blown through the night before: two horrible beasts ravaging among the soldiers. One, a wight riding a skeletal warhorse, the other a zombie ogre. 

Could I get there in time? My heart raced. Behind me, my Spiritual Weapon was still engaged with the last remaining skeleton on the bank of the river. I swung it at the skeleton, but missed.

I had to make a decision, and fast: my Spiritual Weapon moves much slower than me, and was already 20 feet behind me, in the wrong direction of the remaining battle. If I ran beyond the 60-foot range, it’d dissipate anyways. And I knew it only had 30 seconds left. Given my options of what I could do, was it worth it?

I decided to keep it. I moved it as far as I could, and dashed through the gates in time to see Gotem engaged in combat with the zombie ogre.

Perne and Durth dashed inside towards the northwest section of camp to assist the soldiers there, while Arannis dashed past me towards Gotem. Everything was so far away! 

In the distance, I could see Commander Breakbone utter a command¹. Feeling encouraged, I knew I could do some damage if I could fight by his side.

The battle raged around us. The wight on the warhorse used some kind of spell that looked sort of like Onks’ Eldritch Blast, but wasn’t quite the same. He hit Gotem and Whisper. Whisper threw a javelin. The ogre hit Ord (one of the soldiers at the camp) and Gotem with his club. 

This was my chance, I knew. I quickly glanced around the battlefield. Several of my compatriots looked like they could use some healing, but -- as I “dragged” my Spiritual Weapon a little closer -- I only had healing options that would take too long to administer.

And to be honest, I wanted a piece of that ogre.

Still a good distance away, I’d need a range attack to be effective. I muttered a quick prayer to Ilmater under my breath. I’ve had trouble staying on target with this spell. But this zombie ogre was huge, and that wight looked dangerous. We needed to do a lot of damage. 

I cast Guiding Bolt.

I held my breath as light streaked towards the ogre. A solid hit! In the dim light glittering around the ogre, I could see it wince in pain. And the ogre turned to face me.

Again the battle ranged around us. I lost sight of Durth and Perne. Onks cast Vicios Mockery on the ogre. Commander Breakbone slashed at it with his great sword -- and then a peculiar thing happened. He fell to his knees, clutching his head. It was only for a moment, and then he was up again.

Before I could understand what was happening, the wight raised some thing over his head and cast a spell across the camp². Whatever it was, I shook it off.

My attention then fell on Whisper, battling the Ogre. The ogre turned towards me, but had to walk past several us -- I can’t even remember who -- who all took the opportunity to attack him. It swung at me, but missed. 

Then, Gotem fell.

Oh, there’s no excuse for the dilemma this caused. I don’t know why we never noticed his vampiric nature until he drank from that strange grog Whisper shared with us. But at any rate, it’s been long enough, since then, that we ought to have come to a good strategy for healing him. Most of my spells would have no effect on Undead. 

But there was one thing I could do, and given the state of my peers, it was overdue.

I cast Aid on Gotem, Ord, and Whisper. Gotem rose up, a little shaky but stable. 

Arannis struck the ogre with his daggers, and finally it seems we are making a difference against this monster. I could hear sounds of battle at the north end of camp, and in the distance could just make out Durth’s form as a bear. No sight of Perne. Ord shot at the ogre, Onks used Toll the Dead, and Breakbone slashed at the wight.

And then it happened again. Breakbone fell to the ground, clutching his head, but this time, he did not rise, and began to spasm on the ground. He was too far for me to reach, way too far. That feeling I had, that encouragement that I could do a little extra damage, vanished as I saw the commander fall, and fear took its place.

The wight moved towards Gotem, and I feared this battle was about to take a turn for the worst. The creature jumped off his horse, hand glowing and raised above his head. He grabbed Gotem’s neck and shook him, and Gotem began to spasm. And yes -- Gotem fell to the ground once more. 

Before I could do anything, that dread skeletal warhorse trotted towards me, kicking like mad, but it didn’t hit me. 

I couldn’t reach Gotem, but I knew I had to get these monsters away if we had any chance of saving him. And he was unconscious, so he wouldn’t hear or see what I was about to do: play the card I’d been holding all along. 

I raised my shield, the emblem of my Holy Symbol pointed towards these foul creatures, and prayed.³

I could see it take effect on the skeletal warhorse and the ogre, but the wight and a nearby skeleton seemed unperturbed. Still, two of the close creatures threatening Gotem would be gone.

I moved that darn Spiritual Weapon a little closer, feeling tethered to this object and wondering if I’d really made the right decision, spending so much time moving it along.

Just then, my heart lifted as I saw Perne run around the corner of the commander’s tent and swing her long sword at that forsaken wight! Arannis, meanwhile, fed Gotem a potion and hid. Durth, still a bear, tried to attack the wight, but missed. Ord tried to shoot the wight, too, and also missed. I knew this wight would be our toughest foe yet. 

Then Onks finally got a hit in with Chill Touch. 

And, it seemed, the tide was turning in our favor. The wight, looking severely hurt now, raised its arms again and cast two bolts from its hands. It missed Gotem -- thank goodness -- but hit Ord. Ord remained steady on his feet though, and after taking the blast, he looked at me and nodded his thanks for the AID I’d provided earlier. 

And then the wight stepped forward and vanished in a mist.

We had other foes, in the meantime! The horse galloped away towards the north end of camp. The ogre charged around the southern medical tent, towards the main entrance where we’d fought earlier. I watched as the archers above the gate shot a volley of arrows. It ruined the effect of the ogre’s fear, but I felt sure we were near the end. Gotem threw a javelin at the ogre before hiding. 

And I could see my Spiritual Weapon shining just within range of that ogre. I moved it towards him and swung. He flinched, really feeling it now. Whisper shouted from somewhere -- I’d lost track in the chaos -- reminding me of my Sacred Flame. 

I didn’t blink twice. Flame-like radiance fell upon that ogre.

And it fell.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Perne finish off that nearby skeleton and rush towards the Commander. Ord followed. Arannis, meanwhile, darted up the closest tower to see what he could spot.

I planned to cast Detect Evil and Good to see if I could locate our final threat, but then I saw Bear!Durth sniff the air and turn around, back towards the north side of camp. Onks, Whisper, and Gotem all followed. 

I followed as well, still moving my Spiritual Weapon with me, though I could quickly feel it’s time coming to an end. There was, at any rate, nothing left to do for the moment. Perne came up behind me and Arannis darted in front of us. 

We all gathered at the entrance of the northern medical tent, where we could hear screams of fear. Several soldiers -- those who had been wounded in the battle the night previous -- limped out around us as fast as they could, horror on their faces. 

Anger surged through me then -- surely nothing compared to the rage that surges in Gotem’s blows, but I could understand it a little bit then, I thought. How dare this monster attack this camp, nearly kill my friends, and THEN, of all things, descend upon a camp of wounded. I could imagine what it might have planned for them, and I would have none of it!

I pushed past my friends, slipped inside past a strange statue of a tiger, and as if I could burn this creature down with the rage in my eyes, cast Sacred Flame once more towards its skull.⁴

Light flashed in it’s eyes and then it crumbled to pieces, nothing left but a pile of ash and bone. 

Beside me, the tiger statue turned back into Whisper. I let out a long, heavy breath. The heavy rain we’d fought in spattered against the canvas of the tent and then petered off. 

We stepped back out into a low fog. I very much wanted to attend to my friends and make sure they were alright -- I still had two spell slots left -- but then we heard a great commotion in the southern medical tent and rushed over.

There we discovered a crowd around Commander Breakbone. Eku motioned us forward towards his cot, where he writhed and spasmed as if in some horrible nightmare. Black tendrils like a spider web crept us his neck. 

“Something is siphoning his life,” Eku told us. “There is only one thing we can do to save him: we must go to Mbala and stop her.” 

She explained he has only three or four days, but we could get to Mbala in two. Arannis crudely suggested we cut off his head. I reminded myself, he is only just out of his elvish childhood years and has known a rough, roguish life and is exceedingly paranoid. That did not ease my mind. I had to content myself with the hope that he intended to protect the other villagers, however misguided his judgment. 

Between Durth and I, we healed as many of the soldiers as we could, including Perne and Ord. I cast my remaining spells, Prayer of Healing and a Healing Word. I thought, perhaps, I would be sorry to say goodbye to Perne.

And then I passed out in -- well, one of the tents that wasn’t trampled by the battle.

Setting out for Mbala

There is hardly a moment for rest in this forsaken jungle, so it seems. We set out as early as we could, after a long night’s rest. After the events of last night, I hardly noticed the unpleasantness of our accommodations. 

The soldiers had been hard at work while we slept, and had gathered the Undead skeletons, zombies, and horse in a great mound at the northwestern corner, near the abandoned outhouses. A group of soldiers, including Ord, solemnly saw us off. 

And then -- what do you know -- Perne follows us out the front entrance, a knapsack over her shoulder.

“For saving my life, and the lives of all my fellow soldiers, I’d like to join you all in the fight against Nanny Pu’Pu.”

Eku leads us into the jungle. 

Oddly, it felt colder than normal, and the wind blew especially fierce, blowing from behind us towards the south, in the direction we needed to go. It seemed to carry us along with it, and our pace quickened. Never had we traveled so fast. Whisper and Arannis raced along, but Whisper quickly outpaced him, and flew through the trees, delighted. It was good to see some humor about our party again. 

We stopped to forage about midday, and Onks and I discovered a good deal’s worth of coconuts, which we brought back to share. 

A Chilling Encounter

I must admit, I found it quite difficult to sleep that night. The ordeal with that hag vexes me. I wish I could find some way to lift this awful dread about me. I know I feel just a little off, and not my full self. That hag has done something to me -- not Nanny Pu’pu, that other one. I tossed and turned and just went I had settled into a deep sleep, Arannis woke us up to the sound of rumbling footsteps of some incredibly large creature.

As we were sleeping, I’d changed into my pajama armor (the studded leather), and felt incredibly vulnerable. Around me, my compatriots darted to hide in the trees, but I only had time to grab my shield.

And then two giant hands parted the trees above us like a curtain, and a giant woman’s blue head peered down at us.

A Frost Giant!

But here?

“Which one of you is Artus Cimber, bearer of the ring of winter?” it said to us, it’s low, slow voice. So, this must be that man we met along the river, the one that had turned it to ice, had saved us, and darted away without any polite words or even a name.

Whisper dropped to the ground to answer. “None of us, but we met him upriver.”

The giant conceded that it would be able to sense the ring, if it were close. She settled down into our camp, declaring she’d stay here -- no, I didn’t like that, but what could any of us do against a Frost Giant?!

Of course, Arannis seemed to think there was something he could do. “Do you have dark vision?” he asked. I’d have hid my face in my hands if I’d had the courage to so much as twitch.

“Whyyy?” the giant asked.

Arannis began to explain our complicated watch schedule, then waved his hand. “You know what, you’re enormous, you do you.”

Perhaps, in other circumstances, it would have been amusing.

The giant offered us all a drink from her huge flagon of ale. She then said, “I pray to one god, and it is not this... Bill.” Well, we are all used to this by now, familiar with Onks’ unusual method of communicating. He must have spoken to her mind directly, without sharing it with us. And of course, his vigilant efforts to spread the word of Bill continue. From the fishermen’s taverns in the port of Baldur’s Gate to deep within the jungles of Chult, the word of Bill continues to grow. 

I must admit, as strange as my fellows are, they are rather entertaining -- for all the trouble they cause. I wonder what Perne will think. I hope she is not too off-put by them. But she will see how good they can be.

Gotem managed alright with a sip of that giant’s drink, which is very good because the giant found this amusing. It clapped him on the back and Gotem fell face forward into the dust. 

“So you’re a Frost Giant,” Gotem said, standing up. “That’s out of season here.”

“Twenty of us made the joruney from the sea of moving ice. After this ring of winter,” she explained, in her slow way.

“What do we call you?” I asked.

“I’m Thyra Permafrost.”

This was going rather well, I thought, and I relaxed a little. The giant seemed somewhat appeased by our company. Though I don’t think I could sleep well, between the hag and this giant. 

This was when Arannis entered into a tense negotiation with her. He attempted to make a trade, “if you help us in the direction we’re going and we’ll help you in the direction you’re going.”

This did NOT bode well. Arannis babbled a little bit more, and the giant did not like this. She took some threatening steps towards him. 

Thank Ilmater, Whisper intervened. Fast on his feet and fast on his wits! “What he means to say is it was up the river to the northeast.”

He gave him further details on what had happened, and at last, the giant left. Feeling faint, I retired, with just a little concern over whatever consequences may fall out, between this Frost Giant and this man with the ring of winter. I am not sure who might be more fearsome.

Hotspring Hijinks

The next day passed without too much eventfulness. We did not travel as quickly, especially with the rain started coming down in sheets and we had to make camp quickly.

Someone discovered a hot spring, wild grapes growing nearby. It was a great improvement for morale, what with the rain, but I do not trust this jungle. I tossed a rock into the spring to see if it disturbed anything. No. Arannis poked his finger in; it didn’t seem acidic, so he stripped and dived in. Whisper hesitated only slightly and then followed suit. Onks started to enter, but that little smoke monster he keeps on his shoulder warned him off. Gotem fell in face first. 

They beckoned me in, but I saw Perne talking with Eku, so I joined them and ignored the general hijinks that ensued. After about an hour, Arannis called out, “Maritsa, do Undead breathe?” No, I told him. “Okay, he’s probably fine then.” I looked over to see Gotem floating facedown in the water. 

Onks and I then set out making camp and we all settled in for our nightly routine. Around that time, Whisper and Gotem started coughing and looking uncomfortable. 

You see, this jungle cannot be trusted.

Eku and I went over to look. Throat leeches. Disgusting, horrifying. I debated using Lesser Restoration, but it is a second level spell, and we will have no opportunities for a long rest before facing Nanny Pu’pu. 

Arannis, ever resourceful these days, suggested drinking acid from that jug we found in the booby-trapped temple. Surprisingly, Whisper took him up on the idea. Well, at least I could heal damage... At this point, I more vocally offered Lesser Restoration for Gotem, but he shook his head and decided to risk the acid. It did not seem to hurt him quite so much. 

And so their antics continue. 

Approaching Mbala

After several hours of hiking in the morning, we reached an 1,800-foot high plateau. Sheer cliffs rose above heaps of boulders as high as ships. We could see a narrow path cut into the cliff face, switching back here and there. Eku said we might be able to scale, but the path would be better. Surely climbing such a cliff face would be insanity. The path would suffice.

It took several hours to climb, but what stunning views! The Chult wilderness spread out before us, picturesque, lush, and green. Of course we know what nightmares lurk beneath this peaceful facade, but it was really nice to look at. 

We could see, in the distance, far to the southeast, a massive chunk of earth hovering midair, about several hundred feet off the ground. Eku explained this was an earthmote called the Heart of Ubtao, the last remaining of what was once many. Rumor has it, she said, it is occupied, but she hasn’t been to that area to confirm the truth. I wonder if our travel to find the source of this Death Curse will lead us there.

To the west, we could see the top of a ziggurat, barely poking out above the trees. Eku noted, in awe, that this was the ancient ziggurat of Orolunga and inside lives a great seer, Saja N’Baza, who she said has lived for thousands fo years. 

About one hundred feet below the top of the plateau, we came upon a fifteen-foot wide crevice. Into the sides were carved scenes of jungle predators, flying lizards, and erupting volcanos, and above all this, a massive fireball plummeting to the earth. Before us: gates rotted away, rusting on iron hinges. And human skulls grinning up from the roadway and above.

Notes:

1. He did some kind of Leadership ability that I’m not familiar with, but it gave us 1d4 on top of attack roles or saving throws

2. The wight cast Fear, causing us to each make Wisdom Saving Throw (Maritsa passed because her WIS modifier is stellar)

3. Channel Divinity: Turn Undead

4. HOW DO YOU WANT TO DO THIS?! YAAS.

Also, DM told us to LEVEL UP !!! at the very end. Now Level 5 B) cannot WAIT to rock these new cleric moves.

[callioope]

D&D today on Roll20 for the Tomb of Annihilation campaign I’m in!!!

It’s been more than two months, damn. Time to dust of my character sheet and remember what the heck my spells are!!

[callioope]

My new method of casting GUIDANCE is via high five and I love it

[callioope]

DM: *draws beautiful map, buys new miniatures for our enemies*

Players: let's use candy! When you take out a guard, you get to eat him!

DM: *sighing* How do you want to chew this?

[callioope]

I know I normally don’t like the idea of a “strong female character” having to be literally strong (or a woman who exemplifies traditionally masculine traits)

But as the only female in my D&D party, I really do enjoy being the literal strongest of the group