This week, our brave heroes barely escape the evil eye, dine with our enemies, and suffer the wrath of a necessary ally.

When last we left our heroes, they had learned the terrible news that a player was leaving the campaign soon. All our plans to continue exploring the jungles of Chult without a care in the world are out the window. Now we have to get to Omu as fast as possible to even have a chance to wrap up this campaign before Theo leaves for college.

After escaping an ambush of homebrewed dino-men, killing a hag at the top of mountain, and thwarting the betrayal of their guide Salida, our heroes made it to the hidden shrine of Orolunga. Inside, they met the oracle who was really the avatar of a couatl demi-god, Ecatzin. Read my Explorer’s Guide to Chult for more details about why she is important to the canon. Ecatzin told them everything they needed to know; they have to get to the lost city of Omu, hundreds of miles to the southeast through dense, infested jungle, they have only ten days to get there before the world ends, and she even laid out a brilliant and conveniently contrived plan to get them there in time.

I added to my lore that the ancient civilization of Chult were far more advanced than believed and that they had even developed teleportation circles, called Crossings, that connected various cities. One such Crossing still exists between this ruined city of Orolunga and her sister city of Nangalore, far to the east and halfway to their destination. From here the plan got a bit more cryptic. “At Nangalore you must obtain the black orchid from Zalkore, then in Kir Sabal you must be given the Eshowe Scepter from Mwaxanare to receive the Song of the Seven Winds.” Our heroes knew that Kir Sabal was a place near Nangalore, but the rest was unknown to our heroes. They’ll just have to trust that the oracle (by which I mean, me) knew what she was talking about and they will get to Omu on time. That was my plan, and it would have worked, but how could I predict that my players would… Wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. You’ll see soon enough.

One last thing before we get to this week’s session. Salida. The snarky, sarcastic guide whom my players loved and was destined to betray the party. Although the book suggests it, she was never going to make it to Omu and betray the party there. I wanted either Eku or even the party frenemies, Faroul and Gondolo, to get them to the hidden city. Where they could sacrifice themselves in a grand spectacle, so our heroes can go on and save the world. I expected Salida to betray the group somewhere in the jungle, which would also strand our heroes in the jungle without a guide. But with my accelerated timeline, I can’t have her messing up the player’s very specific path to get to Omu, so she had to die last week.

Her betrayal was fun and led to one of the funniest moments of the campaign, when Gwen, purposefully got herself surrounded by undead and attempted to turn them, only to learn that Salida had stolen her holy symbol and was now completely screwed. After Salida’s death, Gwen collected her head for “future questioning” and inadvertently saved the campaign. Which is ironic, since Gwen is the one who will nearly destroy the campaign when she… No, no, no. Not yet. Wait just a little bit more.

The group found one other interesting item on Salida’s corpse. Another sending stone with a connection to Ras Nsi (so far, the main bad guy of the adventure). Usually, the party has used these stones to trash talk Ras Nsi. But today, they did something different. They challenged Ras Nsi to meet them face to face and talk. I expected this conversation to happen eventually, probably in Omu, but this is actually better. Ras Nsi agrees to the meeting and I know just the place. In a blink and you’ll miss it section of the book, we read that Ras Nsi has a ruined palace just north of Nangalore. Ras Nsi gives our heroes the time and place and taunts them that they’ll never make it in time. Of course, Ras Nsi doesn’t know about the teleporter.

So, without further ado, our heroes step into the Crossing Circle, say the magic word “Ka-Nanji”, and in an instant, they are whisked away over 200 miles to the Sister Circle in Nangalore. But to our heroes eyes, it was as if the world just changed around them. One moment they were looking at the ziggurat of Orolunga and the next second they were staring at a ruin they had never seen before. Before you ask, Ka-Nanji is the original name of Nangalore, but this tidbit of history and pointless lore is never revealed to the players by any means in the book.

The ruin of Nangalore is fantastic. A series of plant infested terraces that have been slowly sinking into a swamp, filled with crumbling statues and a veritable maze to get to the end. I couldn’t wait to explore this area. I made it one of the key locations mentioned in the various prophesies and fortune tellings our heroes received throughout the adventure. And this was to be the first location that would expose my group to the culture, language, and history of the Omu. In my game, the people of Omu were the remnants of the Eshowe tribe, who were at war with Mezro and then massacred by Ras Nsi, which led to his banishment from Mezro. Now Ras Nsi lives in Omu, the last enclave of the people he murdered. How very ironic.

I had so many plans for this location. I wanted to build a 3-D display of the entire dungeon, to showcase the multitude of levels that you just can’t fully comprehend on a two dimensional map. I wanted to delve into the language of the Eshowe/Omuans using a brand-new alphabet, based upon the real-world cuneiform writing of the ancients. I wanted the exploration of this space to be truly spectacular and memorable. But I also expected to have a few weeks if not months before we even got here to prepare. Now that my entire timeline has been thrown into chaos, I barely had time to paint the mini of the main villain at the end of the dungeon.

I expected the adventure in this space alone to fill up an entire session, if not two. But now that I’m on a blitz to get the group to Omu as fast as possible, Nangalore has been relegated to a mere hour or less of game time. I breezed through the description of the place, hand-waved all the translations of the Omuan lore thanks to a comprehend languages spell the group got last session, and had a float of crocodiles chase them into the ruins proper. Once they were inside, I let them succeed in any trick they could think of to circumvent the “maze” of the ruin. Climbing ropes, standing on their shoulders, misty step; whatever it takes to get them through the ruins faster. Any plants that stood in their way were obliterated and I did nothing to boost the combats to make them more dynamic. Such wasted potential.

One detail I did add was that the ruins were filled with dozens of statues in every shape, size, race and attire. There were tribesmen in loincloths and spears, robed wizards, fightingmen in armors both modern and ancient, even some yuan-ti and other jungle races. Aside from being made of stone, all the statues had a look of shock and horror on their faces. Even more oddly, many of the statues were missing some limbs, an arm here, a leg there, one was missing a head, and another was missing everything except the feet. By now, everyone knew that a medusa was lurking about but what they didn’t know is that my medusa is a cannibal with the ability un-stone parts of the body for a little snack. I pointed out that these statues look like the limbs have been gnawed off. Gross.

Before long, they arrived at the final room, which has been turned into a combination receiving room and bedchamber. Our heroes tried to be sneaky, but the mistress was aware of their presence. She called out to them, “You can stop sneaking about. I know you are there. It is safe to enter. It has been so long since I’ve had visitors. I only want to talk.” Not believing a word she said, Roland uses a mirror to peek into the room. A beautiful, shapely woman is sitting on a divan, and she is wearing a veil that covers her head and face. Convinced that I wasn’t trying to trick them into joining the sculpture garden, our heroes enter the room.

What followed was a charming conversation with the medusa, Zalkore. It would have been almost pleasant were it not for the fear that at any moment, the gorgon could tear off her veil and all hell would break loose. It was great fun to roleplay a medusa; I’d never heard of that being done before. She is a lonely old crone who has no one for companionship since her lover was so rudely taken from her (killed) centuries ago. Sadly, she has a very loose grasp of sanity, as she slips into outbursts of rage, and tries to calm herself down. “They all treat me like a monster. I’m no monster. By Eshowdo (her god), I’m a queen…Who’s there? More thieves! NO! Come to steal my treasure and gawk at the beast, have you?! I’ll teach them all to stare at me! I’ll turn them all to stone and feast on their corpse. Deep breath. No, thank you. I’m fine. Sorry about that. Where were we?” It was great to watch my players negotiate with a crazy person who could kill them with a single glance.

Zalkore is willing to trade for the black orchid that our players were told they must obtain but they don’t know why.  But the price she wants in return is steep. Someone must stay behind to be Zalkore’s permanent companion and she has her sights set on Benedict. Who the heck is Benedict? Don’t feel bad; I keep forgetting that he exists too. Benedict is the squire Roland hired from Fort Beluarian to keep him from being bullied. His job is to handle the animals the players capture on their excursions (which they never do). He is useless in combat and often gets in the way, whenever I remember that he is even there.

Nobody (except Roland) even cares about this guy, but are they willing to condemn a man to death in order to save the world? Or how about; would you kill a man to get a rare plant? As far as they knew, those are the stakes. I love moral dilemmas. I drop it onto the table like a bombshell and wait for the fireworks. Some treat it like they know it is a game and it doesn’t matter if Benedict is killed. Others treat it like it is real and debate the actual merits of choosing who lives and who dies. And would it have made any difference if it was a PC who had to sacrifice himself? For his part, Benedict was willing to stay behind so that the real heroes can go save the world. This was a pretty good character arc; cowpoke coward to medusa martyr.

In the end, they decided that they could not sacrifice a man even if the fate of the world hung in the balance. There must be another way. Theo told me afterward that if the group had decided to sacrifice Benedict, then Roland would have gone back, alone, if need be, and rescue him. I love Theo! He truly is the moral compass of the group. Too bad we’re gonna lose him. Eventually, Zalkore settled on trading the flower for a lot of treasure, including the priceless jeweled cloak they got from the pirates in Session 34. Not wanting to wait for Zalkore to change her mind and stone everyone, our heroes quickly left Nangalore behind and trudged their way through the swamp toward their dreaded dinner with Ras Nsi.

It took two days to navigate the swamp toward Ras Nsi and his ruined palace. I would have loved to get these guys lost in the swamp wandering aimlessly since they had no idea where this palace would be and they had killed their last guide. But I don’t have time for this. So, congrats guys! You find the palace right away. The book states that this is a total ruin, nothing remains of the structure except a few bits of stone. My palace is far more intact, though now reduced to mostly the first floor and it listed to one side with half the foundation sunk into the swamp at an angle. I make sure to mention the enormous turtle shell carcasses that once caried this palace on their backs are littered all over the place also half buried in the mud.

The group knew when they were getting close, because the kept seeing more Yuan-ti guards and sentries who made no effort to hide but let them pass by without issue. Ras Nsi did promise safe passage in. He said nothing about out. Our heroes knew they were walking into a trap, but they didn’t care. If it offered a chance to kill Ras Nsi, they had to take it. When they finally arrive at the palace, they see that a large banquet has been set out on a crude patio in front of the palace. As our heroes make their way to the table, a Yuan-ti minion addresses them. “Welcome, honored guestsss. Rasss Nsssi sssends hisss regardsss and ssshall join you sssoon. Pleassse, Sssit.” There were just four chairs at the table. Once the heroes had chosen a seating arrangement, a gong sounded within the palace. Looking toward the sound, a figure stood in the doorway. Finally, after two years of anticipation, there writhed the boss snakeman himself, their nemesis, Ras Nsi.

I need this to be a monumental encounter. Ras Nsi has been built up as the ultimate bad guy responsible for all our heroes’ woes. He created all the undead in Chult. He ran the slaver network and unleashed the plague in Port Nyanzaru. He has set up at least three assassination attempts on them and his minions TPK’ed and captured our heroes early on in the adventure. And worse, he has mocked, berated, and belittled our heroes at every turn. On the flip side, our heroes have done the same, all while dismantling every aspect of Ras Nsi’s criminal empire. If the heroes are James Bond, then Ras Nsi is every Bond villain ever. Needless to say, these guys hate each other.

The Bond villain idea was the key to my playing Ras Nsi. Ras Nsi is always, or at least thinks he’s always, three steps ahead of the players. He is twisted, megalomaniacal, narcissistic, and wholly evil, bent on world destruction, but he is also brilliant, witty, charismatic, polite, and a gracious host. Ras Nsi is over 6000 years old; he has seen and heard it all. He is a master tactician and totally unscrupulous when it comes to fighting dirty. Through his network of spies, he knows everything there is about our heroes and just how to hurt them. But most important to Ras Nsi, he is not the villain of his story. Ras Nsi is the hero; your players are the obnoxious bad guys trying to stop him.

Ras Nsi slithers out of his palace in grand spectacle. Ras Nsi is a Yuan-ti malison with a human head and torso, but with a giant snake tail for legs. He is a grotesque monstrosity made even more gruesome by the swaths of bloody bandages that wrap his body from head to tail. He appears sickly and dying but the fire in his eyes tells our heroes that he is still a dangerous foe. Ras Nsi take a seat at the head of the table. Actually, he just squats on the coil of his snaky tail, but you get the idea. Ras Nsi speaks, “So, you are quartet responsible for so much aggravation of late. I thought you’d be… bigger. No matter. That only makes your recent lucky streak even more impressive. My compliments. But every lucky streak has to end and I’m afraid yours ends today.”

Of course, our heroes first attempted to trash talk Ras Nsi, listing all the times they defeated some of Ras Nsi’s minions, ending with the death of Salida. “Ah, yes, Salida. One of my more useful spies. But what have you really accomplished? Killed maybe fifteen Yuan-ti and a couple dozen undead. A mere drop in the bucket. My forces number in the thousands. You stand no chance against such overwhelming odds. But I do applaud the effort. You are brave and resourceful and shown moderate skill. Qualities I hold in high regard. In another life, I think we could be allies, nay, even friends.”

Failing to goad Ras Nsi into a reaction, our heroes attempted to appeal to his conscience and stop his evil plan. They told Ras Nsi that his plan would kill millions and his actions are destroying Chult and go against all the teaching of the creator god, Ubtao. In response, our heroes learn the true, terrifying, unwavering zealotry that is Ras Nsi. “You foolish mortals don’t know anything. Chult can never be destroyed, and this “Curse” as you call it will make certain of that. You call it a curse. I call it a Rebirth. And it will be the salvation of Chult. We, Ubtao’s chosen children, once lived in harmony with the land, before men such as you came to rape, pillage, and plunder her of all her glories. Port Nyanzaru and Fort Beluarian are a stain upon the land and I shall cleanse Chult of their pestilence.”

“But what about all the undead?” Our heroes asked. Ras Nsi replied, “Again, your mortal thinking is so limited. The dead do not feed on the animals or carve them up to hang on their mantles, or cage them to be gawked at in some primitive zoo. They do not crush the plants, grind them into potions, or pluck them for study. They do not chop down all the trees to make their ugly shacks. They do not strip the mountains of their precious baubles. The dead are one with the land and protect her better than any so called “higher intellect” man ever could. Once this plague of human kind has been eradicated from the earth, then Chult will remain pure, perfect, and unsullied forever.”

But what about your vow to Ubtao? Did you not swear to protect the people of Chult? Are they not his chosen people? “You know your history, but not as well as you think. I have sworn to protect the people of Mezro, not Chult, no matter the costs and I have upheld that vow better that any Chosen before or since. Only I had the courage to do what must be done to keep Mezro safe. And no one has suffered more greatly than I.”

“When the Eshowe threatened my people, only I had the will to destroy every man, woman, and child to keep Mezro safe. For doing my duty, I was banished from my home, from the very people I swore to protect, yet still I upheld my vow. When that fool Artus Cimber led the Batiri hordes into the gates of Mezro, my undead army threw them back and kept Mezro safe. Yet still I was shunned. When the Spellplauge struck, I sent Mezro away to that barren, sterile pocket dimension to keep Mezro safe. The Blue Fire nearly killed me and I was forced to strike a bargain with the Yuan-ti and assume their form. And now that drowned tart, Mainu, wants to bring Mezro back. But when this “Curse” purges the land and annihilates mankind, then Mezro will have no land to return to, and will stay hidden right where she is, forever, to keep Mezro safe.”

Our heroes tried one last tact to sway Ras Nsi. Self-preservation. They told Ras Nsi that Acererak has lied to him and that the Curse is also the thing that is killing him and Ras Nsi will die with the rest. Ras Nsi was unfazed. “Few men have ever even heard that name, and fewer still have the guts to speak it. You are full of surprises. But I already know that this Rebirth will take my immortal shell and kill me as you say. But I swore to uphold my vow, even at the cost of my own life. And I am willing to keep that vow. I have lived for 6000 years and my soul is prepared to face my god in judgement. Is yours?”

“But your plan is pure evil,” Thames blurts out. “You come here to lecture me on morality? There is no good or evil; only those willing to do what must be done and those cowards who are not. I am a dedicated servant to my god, Ubtao. So, what motivates you? What have you dedicated your miserably short existence to? Power? Fame? Glory? The sadistic pleasure of murdering random monsters? No, it was and always will be, Gold. You came to Chult because you were being paid. Paid to steal her beauty and keep as many riches as you could carry. Pathetic.”

“Since I know how much you crave shiny trinkets, I have an offer for you.” Ras Nsi claps his hands once and four Yuan-ti appear at the palace entrance, carrying two huge wooden chests between them. They place the chests down at the foot of Ras Nsi. He opens the chests to reveal a trove of gold and treasure. “I could kill you now, and be done with you. But you have proven to be worthy adversaries and I respect that. Take these chests, give up your hopeless quest to find Omu, return to Port Nyanzaru, my spies will know when you arrive, and live out the rest of your days like kings.”

This was a crucial point in the conversation. Our heroes now know that Ras Nsi is insane. There is no rational way to bargain with such a man. He is hell-bent on genocide and will fully justify his actions as the right and proper thing to do. There seems to be no way to convince him that he is wrong. Our heroes had very few options. They could accept the offer, let Ras Nsi and Acererak win, ending the campaign and dooming the world. Unlikely. They could lie, accept the offer, and still find their way to Omu, hoping to do so before Ras Nsi learns that he’d been betrayed. Possible. Or they could fight this asshole, here and now, and damn the consequences. Most likely.

I did not want them to fight Ras Nsi here and had been doing my best to dissuade them. They asked how many Yuan-ti they had observed walking into this trap. I told them they’ve seen at least forty snakemen in the area. Unbeatable odds. Our heroes may kill Ras Nsi, but they will die as well, and doom the world in turn. They didn’t care. Every hero, in every campaign, belives themselves to be invincible, wearing a coat of impenetrable plot armor. I think one of them made some sort of challenging threat and another drew his weapon. If this moved to combat, so be it, but I had one last trick up my scaly sleeve.

At the drawing of swords, Ras Nsi was impressed. “Perhaps you do stand for something after all. I truly wish we had met under different circumstance. But before we cross swords and die a blaze of fruitless glory, I do have a special guest I want you to meet.” This time, Ras Nsi clapped his hands twice. Three more Yuan-ti appeared at the door, but this time they were not carrying treasure. These three were pushing and prodding a small creature that was tied up and gagged. Two of them had wicked curved daggers pressed to the creature’s throat. But the creature was more than that, it was a little boy. And not just any boy, it was Bucketboy.

Bucketboy has been a vital NPC to the campaign ever since he was introduced back when our heroes first arrived in Port Nyanzaru in Session 3. He has been a constant presence in the campaign, and a source of laughter, joy, hope and friendship in a bleak and deadly land. Bucketboy was their first ally in Chult and introduced them to all the wonders that Port Nyanzaru and Chult had to offer. In many ways, he is the heart and soul of Chult, and all of the players love him. None more so than Gwen. She latched on to Bucketboy from the start and is very protective of him. But he has always remained relatively safe within the confines of Port Nyanzaru. Until now.

Ian, as Gwen, was pissed. Kidnapping his favored NPC is a low-down, dirty trick. Dirty, but effective. Gwen ran through the usual bluster, “If you’ve harmed on hair on his head…”

But Ras Nsi was done playing nice. “You’ll what? You’ll watch helplessly while we kill him. Make a move and we kill him. Say anything I don’t like and we kill him. You may get me in a rush, but Bucketboy dies first. Now stand down!”

Wisely, Gwen convinced the others to lower their weapons. She was able to stammer to Bucketboy, “Are you alright?” To which the boy nodded meekly. Gwen demanded to know, “How did he get here?”

Ras Nsi replied coldly, “It doesn’t matter how he got here. It only matters that he is. Now here’s the new deal. Me and the boy are walking out of here. Once we’re gone, you will return to Port Nyanzaru immediately. I’ll give you six days. Once I hear that you’ve arrived, I will release the child and have him returned to you. You try anything else and the boy dies. And leave the treasure behind. You’ve forfeited that offer. This had best be the last time we ever meet. Goodbye.”

In stunned silence, our heroes watch as Ras Nsi gets up from the table, turns his back on them, glides to the palace, takes the captive Bucketboy by the wrists and slithers deeper into the ruins. Soon they hear the loud flapping of wings and a giant pterodactyl rises up beyond the palace and our heroes can just make out the silhouettes of Ras Nsi and Bucketboy as they fly away to the south. The Yuan-ti that stayed behind now all have their swords drawn. “You heard the massster. Run home to your cave, filthy humansss. Go now!”

Dejected, our heroes left the area without a fight, but more determined than ever to get to Omu somehow, rescue their friend, and murder that bastard, Ras Nsi. I was elated. Finally, a scenario that turned out exactly like I planned. I showed just how evil the BBEG was, my players hate him even more than ever, and no one died. And if I needed more motivation to get my players to Omu as quick as possible, this did just that. This was my second favorite showcase of the evil villains’ powers that left my players feeling lucky to be alive and driven more than ever to take them down. My favorite was the reveal of Lolth at the end of Lost Mines of Phandelver, Session 12, but that was ages ago. But on the other hand, this introduction of Ras Nsi had two years of anticipation and I’m amazed that it finally came to fruition. Okay, this one is my new favorite.

There was no question that our heroes were not going back to Port Nyanzaru. Once out of the area, they put the newly dubbed Swamp Ranger, Martic, and his skills to work covering their tracks in case they were followed (they were). They successfully eluded the Yuan-ti tailing them and pushed on into the night to get to Kir Sabal as quickly as possible and find out what sort of assistance they could get to continue their journey. Conveniently avoiding any random encounters, our heroes arrive at the towering monastery that clings to the side of a cliff. Kir Sabal. Haven of the majestic and noble Aarakocra; a tribe of eagle-men.

I was flying high after the encounter with Ras Nsi and felt that this would be one of the easiest encounters ever to be run. And a good one to boost my players spirits after the disappointing outcome of the Ras Nsi debacle. Kir Sabal was a layup. Our heroes had previously rescued to two Aarakocra allies in Session 26 and again in Session 31. They knew exactly what to ask about from the monastic leader, something called the Song of the Seven Winds, which they learned about last session. And they already had one of the items they need that they got from Zalkore earlier today. They just gotta walk up a flight of stairs, meet two NPCs, be nice, get what they need, and they will be rewarded with a cool, exciting, fantasy moment that will whisk them away to their final destination, Omu. Easy, right? Oh, the D&D gods can be so fickle.

It all started on the stairs. There are three checks needed to get to the top. Not to do anything seriously bad to the players, just to show that the climb is treacherous. Of course, Gwen failed all three, so that by the time she got to the top, she was bruised, battered, exhausted, and irritated. Not a good combination. In the end, I had a to have their Aarakocra buddy, Zephyr, find them and carry Gwen the rest of the way up to the monastery. Everyone was frustrated.

But this should cheer them up. I had presents for them for them. Seriously, legit presents. Our group had been playing together for almost two years now, and I wanted to get them something special. I wanted to give them a present for Christmas, but with Theo leaving in September, this was another thing I needed to move up in my timeline. The use of Norse Runes was a big plot point in our adventure that I added to the story. That may seem weird in a story set in a steaming tropical jungle, but it made sense and strangely fit the theme. Our heroes had received a fortune telling from a favored NPC, Sigfrid, who hailed from the frigid north and used real runes in her prophesies. During the reading, each player drew an individual rune that represented their hero. I found some amazing Futhark (runic) pendants made by Baldur Jewelry on Amazon.com and they had the four runes that my players drew. And yes, they were all wrapped up like presents.

My players loved these pendants and I’ve seen them wear them occasionally in future sessions. But this wasn’t just a real world gift. It was a in-game item with in-game magical properties. In my story, Sigfrid was about to succumb to the effects of the Death Curse and she was going to leave these items to the players in her will which would have happened the next time they returned to Port Nyanzaru, which will now never happen. And Kir Sabal was going to be the last friendly locale our heroes will visit for the rest of the campaign. So once at the top, Zephyr told our heroes that a package arrived just a few days ago with their names on it, delivered by two sketchy guides. (Yes, it was Faroul and Gondolo). We never expected you to show, but here you are. There is a note attached to the box. “To the the defenders of Chult. I fear I am not long for this world. I know you are about to embark on a quest to somehow defeat the “Death Curse” that will soon take my life. I hope these items will help you to avenge me in the name of the Frostmaiden. Your ally in Valhalla, Sigfrid.”

So, not only were my players wearing their pendants, so were their characters. Each pendant was imbued with a charm that acted like one of the Blessings found in the DMG or the Rime of the Frostmaiden adventure. Each charm could be used once per day. Gwen has the Blessing of the Frostmaiden, granting her immuity to cold for one minute and able to cast one cone of cold during that time. Gwen had no real damage spells; now she has one. Roland had the Blessing of the Morning Lord, giving him 10 temporary hit points each day at dawn. For the party tank, he had very low hp; this should help. Martic’s rune of protection gave him the Blessing of Valhalla, which allowed him to summon a berserker warrior once per day. He had been the only hero without a second NPC to run in combat; not anymore. Finally, Thames had the Blessing of Mjolnir, granting him immunity to thunder damage for one minute and able to cast lightning bolt once during that time. These were some serious boosts to their comabt effectiveness and slightly atoned for the lack of magic items in the campaign. Between the real gifts and fantasy magic items, we were flying high and in great spirits, Nothing could bring us down. We’ll see…

After our Christmas in August, our heroes met Asharra, the strict, prim and proper, school principal leader of these monks, whom everyone calls Teacher. It started off fine. The players played nice despite Asharra’s prissy nature. Since our heroes already had the Black Orchid, she agreed to perform the ritual Dance that would imbue the players (and all their NPC allies) with the ability to fly for a few days. Just long enough to get them down to Omu. She was a little concerned when they asked about needing the Eshowe Scepter from Mwaxanare, but she did agree to introduce the players to this exiled Omuan Princess. Asharra even warned the players that this future queen is young, immature, and impetuous, but that any overt action against her would not be tolerated by Asharra or the over fifty Aarakocra living at Kir Sabal. So, let’s meet Mwaxanare and toss the campaign over the edge of this cliff.

I was playing this whole encounter straight from the book. I wasn’t looking to add anything or do anything weird. I tried to have everything go in our heroes’ favor. I even ran the suggested gargoyle attack that put everyone on the side of our heroes. Now, Mwaxanare was a suitably overbearing and obnoxious royal who thinks everyone exist to serve her. But she was immediately infatuated with the knightly Roland, and her brother, Na, was equally awed by Martic and the swarm of flying bugs that surround him. They just need to convince this queen to loan them her scepter. The problem was that our heroes had no idea why they needed it.

I deliberately left this vague during the Orolunga prophet meeting, just to see if my players would come up with anything on their own. They didn’t. So, they failed their initial Persuasion attempt. Mwaxanare refused their request. “I could never allow such an item to be in the hands of the common rabble. This, along with the lost Skull Chalice of Ch’gakare are sacred items that imbue the bearer the right to rule Omu. If I just gave the scepter to one such as you, then you could claim the throne.” From here, there were still lots of paths to choose from to steer this conversation back on track. They could talk about this Skull Chalice. Roland could turn on the charm. Martic could convince Na to help them with her sister. Anyone could just talk about literally anything for a little bit longer. And if they still struggled after that, I was going to tell them that they just need to borrow the item for a few minutes and give it right back. I never got that chance.

But Gwen was fed up. Throughout the campaign, between obnoxious merchant princes, pompous fort commanders, and this irritating, impudent child, Gwen was sick to death of these idiot “leaders” who stood in the way of doing the right thing for such vain, petty excuses. As soon as Mwaxanare finished saying, “…the right to rule Omu.” Gwen stood up, slapped the future queen hard across the face and yelled at her, “You stupid, selfish little brat! You will have no world to rule over if we cannot get to Omu in seven days. And we need that staff to do it.” Everyone was stunned. What the hell just happened? I couldn’t tell if this was a character roleplay choice or a player frustration or what. It felt wholly out of character, especially from Gwen who has always been level-headed up to now. Sure, we make fun of her skull collection and the fact that she can’t walk three feet without falling down, but we’d never seen her pushed to the edge like this. Roland summed it up best when he said, “Gwen, what have you done?”

What she did was turn the entire population of Kir Sabal against them. This was the one inviolate rule that our heroes had just violated. Asharra pushed her way between Gwen and Mwaxanare, shoved Gwen back, pointed a spear at Gwen’s heart, and cried out, “Sound the alarm! Assassins!” A dozen Aarockra flood the room and more are heard coming. The book says the Aarakocra will defend the girl from all threats, and I couldn’t think of how else to handle this. Things were spiraling out of control. I needed to diffuse this siuation quickly. Zephyr was one of the first to arrive and I tried to use him to diffuse the situation. Asharra yells at her fellow birdman, “You bring these outsiders into our home. Vouch for them. And they attack our queen!’ Then turning on Gwen, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Gwen could only stammer, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. It’s been a really long day.” Roll Persuasion. Epic Fail. Somebody, anybody, give me something to work with. Crickets. I was unable to think of any way to fix this. So, with grim determination on her face, Asharra said, “Get out. And never come back here again.” Defeated, our heroes left. It was a long, miserable climb down to the base of Kir Sabal. At the bottom, everyone stood around, lost and numb. Finally, Thames said, “So, what do we do now?”

Next week, will our heroes make to Omu? Will they save Bucketboy? Or will they be thwarted by magic cubes, red wizards, and feral cats?

As always, even in its darkest hour and all hope is lost, there is always a way to Game On!

You defy all my attempts to plan an amusing death for you Mr. Bond – Hugo Drax, one of the best Bond villains in one of the worst Bond films.

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 legends, lore, history, religion, and culture that I used to bring even more life to this adventure.