Our castaways’ desperate expedition continues, plauged with monsoons, deadly flowers, and very determined undead.

When last we left our heroes, they had abandoned their capsized shipwreck, striking out into the unknown in a desperate trek to reach civilization. They chose the longer and hopefully safer route following the coastline around the Bay of Chult to avoid having to venture into the jungle proper. Along the way, they fended off a shark attack, avoided getting their eyes gouged out by some disgusting sea hags, and survived a barrage of pigs and cheetahs that tore up their camp. But they are still a long way from safety and the situation is grim.

Several in the group have become afflicted with numerous diseases and maladies; heat stroke, sewer rot, shivering sickness, etc. They are currently suffering from various levels of exhaustion and other in-game disadvantages. Their food and water supply are critically low. Unless they find more, starvation and dehydration may become a grim reality.

In addition, they rescued a fellow castaway from the clutches of the evil hags. Sadly, the rescue only came after the hags had carved out the man’s eyes, leaving him blind and unconscious. Nothing has revived the stranger, but the party has still valiantly taken the man with them and is nursing him back to health, sapping away valuable resources. Then toward the end of last session, their camp got trashed by a pack of rampaging pigs and one of their tents was destroyed.

Lost Expedition DAY 3 – After a cramped night, the next dawn greeted us with grey skies and clammy air. We packed our meager possessions in the rowboat and trudged further south down the coast. We barely travelled 2 miles before the sky unleashed a fury upon us unlike anything we had ever seen. The rain was relentless, pouring water on us faster than we could bail it out of the boat. The wind was howling and threatened to blow us out into the choppy channel.

We barely managed to beach the boat and pull it ashore before it could be swamped. We tried to set the tents and rain catcher, but the gale force winds blew them all the hell. We were forced to huddle under the tree line and prayed for a quick end to our misery. The only good thing to come out of the storm is that it kept the relentless assault of stinging insects at bay.

The monsoon lasted all day. It was dusk before the rain receded and the winds abated. Incredibly, nothing was damaged during the storm. We hastily pitched our tents and hunkered down for the night after rationing our food and water. (We’ve been keeping a running tally and both supplies were down to single digits.) A fire was impossible due to the damp. We were wet, cold and miserable. But at least we had our tents to offers some protection. Or so we thought.

I forget who was on watch, but whoever it was failed to notice the three arboreals that slipped into one of the tents. But then came the screaming. Bursting into the bereaved tent, it was a scene of the pure pandemonium. The jungle itself had invaded the tent, turning it into a little shop of horrors, with several living plants trying to consume out friends. Each plant had three separate flowers, colored orange, yellow and red. Some flowers spewed poison, others spit acid, while the third had already ensnared several members with their entangling tendrils. We learned later that the locals call these things Tri-Flower Fronds.

These plants do not pose much of a threat to the players, unless you can separate and surprise them. Ideally, if you could get one player alone, then the encounter might even become deadly with a lucky knockout blow from the orange flower. I wished that I had sprung this on Miche last week when he was lost in the jungle, but I didn’t think of it then. Instead, I had them ambush Gwen, Miche and Carlos in a tent. Unfortunately, no one was knocked out by the orange blossom’s poison, but both characters were covered in yellow acid and one was grappled by red vines.

The book is not clear on the Frond’s attack. It reads: “Multiattack. The tri-flower frond uses its orange blossom, then its yellow blossom, and then its red blossom.” It does not state that it makes three attacks per round. This could imply that it uses the orange on round 1, yellow on round 2, then red on round 3. But I play them that they have three attacks per round, using the listed order. This makes them a little more of a challenge, and capable of hitting multiple targets at once. Even as such, once all the players were involved in the fight, they made short work of these wicked weeds, turning them into a lovely, but dead, bouquet. It was here that they got their first exposure to poison harvesting.

Last week, we explored the Diseases mechanics unique to this adventure. Today let’s explore poisons. Another underutilized set of rules, it doesn’t help that there are three separate poison mechanics. First, there is poison damage. Next, there is the poisoned condition. Lastly, there is a large list of various poisons and their effects.

Poison Damage. Every player has dealt with poison damage from snakes, wyverns, poison darts, and such. This inflicts a one-time amount of damage, which may be halved if you pass a Constitution save. This damage does not impose the poisoned condition.

The poisoned condition only occurs when stated specifically in the text, most often from drinking a generic potion of poison or from a poison needle trap. Upon a failed CON save, the poisoned creature “Has disadvantage on all attack rolls and ability checks. It lasts a specific duration, but the affected creature can usually roll a new saving throw at the end of each turn. This poisoned condition is occasionally (but not always) an additional effect derived from the large list of “Poisons” found in the Dungeon Masters Guide

The DMG includes 14 poisons that induce a variety of conditions, including straight damage, paralysis, blindness, and worse. As part of my ToA DM Screen, I included a full list of the difference poisons (see above). On the list, I excluded those that had duplicate effects and added 6 more (Marked with an asterisk) that better reflect the Land of Chult. For all the poisons, I listed the primary ingredient that needs to be harvested to make the poison with a poisoners kit.

In addition, Page 205 of the Tomb adventure lists several new flora and fauna unique to Chult. Many of these plants have beneficial properties, but are dangerous in higher doses. I used many of these fruits, seeds, and berries (as well as other plant life and even monsters native to Chult) as my poison ingredients. For more info about these various poisons, refer to my Tomb of Annihilation Resources Guide.

Back to our adventure. Miche wants to become a master poisoner, so naturally, he wanted to harvest these fronds. He passed all his survival checks, gathering enough for 3 doses and avoiding becoming affected himself. He still needs to manufacture the poison, which can’t be done here in the jungle. Another incentive to get to civilization. But the jungle has a few more surprises for them.

DAY 4 – In the early morning before dawn, the party is just waking up and striking the camp while Thames is on watch. And for the second or third time in just as many days, Thames failed to notice something that happened to stroll into camp. This time that thing happened to be a particularly chatty ghoul and a couple of zombie guards. Despite their decomposition, there was something eerily familiar about them. The ghoul made no attempt at stealth and calmly walked into camp, allowing Thames to sound the alarm and alert the group.

Once the party was aware of the visitors, the ghoul addressed them. “Good tidings. My master, Ras Nsi, would like to welcome travelers such as yourselves to this glorious land of Chult.” Here the group noticed that each undead had been marked with an upright blue triangle tattooed on their rotting foreheads.

Just then, Carlos the NPC sailor and sole survivor of the Narwhal II crew cried out. “Oh my god! That’s the bosun, Mister Diggory. And those two are the cook, Maccus, and my mate, Sebni. No, no! this can’t be happening. This is demon craft!”

Undeterred, the ghoul Diggory continued, “Ras Nsi would like to invite you to join his army in defense of the great land. Of course, you will need to be dead, but that is a small price to pay to serve one as great as he.” Then turning to Carlos, “Either way, we claim the soul of that one. He is one of us, not you, and he needs to take his proper place along side his crew for eternity.”

Unsurprisingly, the group responded to this offer by attacking the ghoul. At this time, two other groups of undead sprung up from the rocks, trees, and brush on either side of the camp. There were seven more undead, three additional zombies and four skeletons. And yes, they were all crew members of the Narwhal II, buried by Carlos and Undril three days ago.

Had anyone mentioned that they were looking around, they would have gotten a perception check. But no one said anything, presumably because they were all distracted by my ghoulish conversation, so these undead got the drop on them. But how are these undead able to speak eloquently, act stealthily, and fight tactically? Those are all excellent unanswered questions. For now.

Not that these tactics did the undead any good. They were about to be dead again, they just didn’t know it. Roland the paladin struck first and immediately smited the mouthy ghoul. For 27 hit point, killing the ghoul instantly, before I could do anything cool with him in combat. C’est la vie, or more appropriately, c’est sans mort. This was followed by Miche and Martic who quickly killed the cook zombie, Maccus. This party already has a chef, so this dead one was put on the chopping block.

The undead attacked next. But nearly everyone missed and even the squishy Carlos escaped unharmed. Scáth and Thames brought down another zombie, but this one at least had the fortitude to refuse to die and stood back up. I love this ability of zombies and I especially love it when a single zombie repeatedly refuses to die. Alas, this zombie only had a single jump scare in him and he was permanently cut down in the next round.

On Gwen’s turn she used her channel divinity to turn undead. Gwen finally succeeded in using her cleric abilities properly as two zombies and two skeletons fled back into the jungle. Of course, this brought on another condescending back-handed compliment from the more powerful NPC cleric, Undril. “Congratulations, my little adept. I knew Kelemvor (Gwen’s god) would eventually deem you better than useless.” I feel bad that Undril is constantly mocking and belittling Ian’s character, and this has led to all the other players doing the same. But it is so easy, and so much fun!

Speaking of Turning Undead, I am torn about the 5e rules about it. The fifth edition rules are way simpler: Once per rest (more at later levels), the cleric can turn any undead that can see or hear the cleric within a 30’ radius. On a failed Wisdom save, the undead run away. Easy, but exceptionally over powered. It’s automatic, covers a huge area (2,827 square feet), and allows the potential for a first level cleric to turn vampires, and even liches. Yes, I know they have legendary resistances, but it is still possible.

I like the original AD&D Turn Undead Matrix that required clerics to roll a d20 with no modifiers just to see if they could even turn a measly skeleton. And I really like the rules for evil clerics, such as, instead of turning undead, it compelled the undead to serve the cleric. “That’s right, I got me a ghoul butler!” As for turning undead, I like both systems from a narrative stance. One checks the cleric’s level of faith, the other tests the undead’s fortitude to resist. I usually strive to limit the number of dice rolled in combat. But in this instance, I’m willing to add one more die.

Here is my modified 5e Turn Undead Table (I mean, matrix!) Basically, it is a test of wills between the cleric’s level and the undead’s challenge rating. When a cleric attempts to turn undead, consult the chart. A “T” means that the ability automatically works. A number means that the cleric rolls a d20 plus their wisdom modifier and their proficiency bonus against that number to see if the Turn ability works. A dash “–” means that the cleric is unable to turn that undead.

The basic rule of thumb is if the cleric is a higher level than the undead, he can automatically turn that undead, but if the undead is more that 5 levels (CR) above the cleric, then that undead cannot be turned. In any case, if the turning is successful, the DM rolls a Wisdom saving throw for each individual undead, to discover which undead can resist the effect of the turning. In addition, a “D” means that if the undead fails its Wisdom save then it is utterly destroyed instead of merely turned.

For example, let’s say a 2^nd level cleric with a 14 in Wisdom is going up against a skeleton (CR ¼), a ghoul (CR1), and ghast (CR2), a mummy (CR3), a greater zombie (CR5), and a skeletal knight (CR7). When the cleric uses Turn Undead, the skeleton and the ghoul are turned automatically. For the others, the cleric rolls an 11 (+2 mod. & +2 PB) for a total of 15, allowing the cleric to also turn the ghast and the mummy. The DM would need to roll a Wisdom save for all these undead to see if they fight or flee. The cleric is unable to turn the greater zombie and she had no chance to turn the skeletal knight. But a 5^th level cleric with the same stats and dice rolls, would turn all the undead, including the skeletal knight, plus the skeleton would be completely destroyed.

I would still keep the legendary resistances of the greater undead. Because I don’t want Strahd to get turned by some noob. But I would impose a disadvantage on any undead to avoid being destroyed. The chart is not perfect and it has not been fully playtested, but I like that both sides have some opportunity to succeed and fail. And who wouldn’t love a moment when the vampire grabs the cleric’s crucifix and says…

Back to the fight at hand. Confronted with the prospect of becoming the dawn of the dead like his former crew, Carlos took off screaming, running away down the beach. Two skeletons chased after him while two party members chased after them. This was the only thing I could think of to make the combat last longer than two rounds. I was touched by the group’s fanatical devotion to the sailor Carlos, whom they have adopted as some sort of mascot. In later sessions, some of the group will want to make Carlos the captain of his own ship while others want to install him as a merchant prince of Port Nyanzaru.

In no time at all, the rest of the undead crew was put down. They chose not to hunt down the ones that fled into the jungle. That’s okay, these undead will obsessively track down their escaped crewman; we’ll see them again. The battle may have been quick, but it did what it was supposed to do. They now know the name Ras Nsi. My players can’t remember the names of most NPCs, but they remember Ras Nsi. The subject of Ras Nsi has come up in every session since this one and I haven’t prompted his name even once. They want to know who he is. How is he the master of the undead? How did he raise this group of undead so quickly? What does he want? Where does he live? Who is this guy?! And the players hate the fact that this powerful bad guy knows about them, while they know nothing about him.

But the group has bigger concerns right now. Like surviving another 2-3 days with no food or water and 50 miles of treacherous waters and teeming jungle. But today wasn’t so bad. Around midday, we noticed a glint of something shining on the beach. Investigating, we discovered the scattered bones of a long dead dwarven explorer. Among the remains, we found a silver flask that contained a 20-day of a salve that we deduced to be insect repellent. We also found 10 days’ worth of rations, plus two healing potions. Not every random encounter has to be deadly.

In the evening, we set up camp well away from the tree line to avoid being ambushed again. Scavenging for food, we came upon a small grove of trees that bore grapefruit-sized fruit covered in a fuzzy brown fur. With complete disregard for danger (as usual), Roland cracked one open and ate it heartily. Seconds later, Roland was dancing around the jungle like a drunk dwarf at a Hanseath festival. We ordered him to stop and he tried, but he couldn’t. He was compelled to dance and he did, badly. He pranced and skipped and cavorted for about a minute, then he collapsed, nauseous and poisoned for an hour afterwards. Immediately recognizing the potential to screw with NPCs, we gathered up all the fruit we could carry, 24 in total.

DAY 5 – During the night, a heavy rain allowed us to gather just enough water to last us one more day. We prayed that this would be our last night before we could reach the safety of Port Nyanzaru. This unexpected expedition has been fraught with danger, but we’ve survived and it seems that we might just make it after… Just then the ground shook amidst the thunderous stampede of giant feet as a bloat of hippopotamuses charged into camp. Bedlam ensued as we dove for cover while the braying beasts tore into our tents and knocked over the full rain catcher. There goes our water supply.

We were barely able to get the row boat in the water, drag the still unconscious stranger from Baldur’s Gate inside and cast off before the rampaging river horses could sink their enormous teeth into our very edible bodies. They chased us into the water but stopped once we caught the current. We were forced to abandon out tents, rain catcher, our half barrel of water and full barrel of wine, along with all the relics and trophies we’d taken from the Narwhal II, including the ship’s decorative name plate and the sahuagin weapons. All we had were our packs, personal weapons and the 3 gallons of water in our canteens. I pray this is our last day lost in the jungle.

As we rounded the southern bend, we thought we could see some low peaks painted in bright colors to the south east or it could have been a mirage. We rowed faster. A nest of stirges flew out from the shore to feast on our blood. We rowed faster while swatting the vampiric gnats with our oars. As we continued east, a giant tentacle burst out of the water and tried to grab Roland. We rowed faster.

At long last, we could plainly see the four hills of Port Nyanzaru directly to the south about five miles across the bay. The sight of painted buildings and manmade structures covering the slopes filled our hearts with hope. Now we just had to struggle against the full current as we attempted to row straight across the open channel. Just our luck would be that we’d be crushed beneath the keel of another sailing ship just before reaching salvation. But we encountered no such vessels.

Pushed past the point of exhaustion. Weary, hungry and dying of thirst, we rowed into the open harbor past two massive pillars set into the sea. A connected chain was attached to each pillar. The chain was currently resting on the sea bed, but could be raised in times of defense. As we rowed past a large structure, presumably the harbor house, a door burst open and a human sized golden dragon-man wearing bright flowing robes stepped out. “You can’t dock your rowboat here! Go around to the Anchorage.”

“Please, sir. We’ve been stranded five days in the jungle. We can’t go any further,” we begged.

The half-dragon was aghast. “By the gods, I don’t believe it. Tie your boat up to the first berth.”

It was all we could do to crash our boat into the pier, tie her to a cleat, and stagger up the gangway. Bedraggled, sunburnt, half-blind with cracked lips and blistered skin, we must have been a sight to behold to the gold scaled man who shone like a god in the afternoon sun. He met us on the dock and brought several jugs of cool, fresh water with him.

“I am Zindar, the harbor master. I want to hear all about how you survived as long as you did in the jungle. I can’t remember the last time outsiders made it to Port alive after being lost without a guide. But first, drink, drink. Get yourself well. I assume you are newcomers to our glorious Chult. Allow me to be the first to say… Welcome to Port Nyanzaru.”

And then I played the theme song I’ve had cued on my phone for over three weeks now.

Next week, after almost two months of play, we finally make it to the start of the adventure, filled with surly customs agents, massage parlors and an urchin known only as “Bucketboy”.

As always, even when running “random” encounters, try to tie them into the main story, and Game On!

We’re gonna make a fortune with this place. – Donald Gennaro, who did not pass his stealth check.

Don’t forget to check out my Tomb of Annihilation Resources Page, filled with all the stuff I use to make this epic campaign even more epicier: My full Campaign Diary, plus Handouts, Maps, Charts, PDFs, Images, and more to use, abuse, or ignore at your peril.

And written specifically for this adventure, read my Explorer’s Guide to Chult to delve into all the legands, lore, history, religion, and culture that I used to bring even more life to this adventure.