A1: Port Nyanzaru

1 May (Mirtal): Diero is still in the process of emptying his stomach into the raised flowerbed when a huge face confronts him. “What the hell is that?!” Daisee already climbing upon a ledge to peer into the streets, spying thundering lizards filling the streets either as pack-animals or as mounts, “You can ride these things? Where do I sign up? I told you this was going to be fun!”

The streets are full of color, street performers, laughing kids wearing hats. A bustling harbor filled with fish smells and the calls of hawkers selling their catch of the day. People of all races and colors; even cat-people Syndra calls "Tabaxi." Syndra is already strolling up the passage, “Let me first introduce you to my contact. Get you acquainted with the city and laws. And buy you cloths so you can fit in (their drab clothing nothing like the colorful turbans and scarfs of the city-folk). We even need to sign in with the harbormaster.”

Syndra enters an opulent villa (complete with oasis and flowery gardens) and introduces us to her friend, “Wakunga will be your contact as I take respite and await the wasting curse.” Wakunga tends to his friend before addressing us, “All I can tell you is the rumor of the curse source within this island. Unfortunately the interior is poorly mapped. I cannot say where the source lies. I can only hope you have time to explore and gather clues that only outsiders may be privy to; for us locals tend to cause others to clam-up. I can put you in contact with Jobal who is the ‘pimp’ for all the guides available within these city walls. But first, you must sign in with the harbor master Zindar, else your stay in this city be behind bars.”

And so we trek to the piers to sign Zindar’s ledger. Him not batting an eye when we sign the vessel of transport as ‘Syndra’. “Chult may offer new wonders to your eyes but rest assured our culture is little different than your homeland. The same factions wrestle for control: the Emerald Enclave preserving the natural order; the Flaming Fist, a mercenary company; the Harper’s protecting spellcasters and spying on those who oppose magic power; the Order of the Gauntlet protecting all from evildoers; and the Zhentarim, an unscrupulous shadow network intertwined throughout the lands. Whatever your leanings, keep your noses clean else you spend your short life etching prison walls.”

Despite her short stride, Daisee leads the group as we wander the streets in awe. Dinosaurs at every turn; her squeal of delight ear-piercing. We stop at the merchant bazaar, soon leaving dressed in colorful garb. But Diero seems more preoccupied, stopping at various docks asking about pirates while mentioning a particular ship, the ‘Emerald Eye’. His questions earning raised eyebrows which only makes him more persistent. As the group calls it a day, they turn to find a local pub. Diero even more an asshole as he tries to start a fight, purposefully bumping into a LARGE stranger who backs away in his own apologizes.

Morning brings another gathering with Wakunga who cautions the group, “I hear one of one tried to start a fight. If you haven’t learned by now, they is no crime or fighting within our walls. Our prisons a testament to the peace and order of Port Nyanzaru. I’d suggest you make yourselves busy; I have a task that requires an inland trek. Rumor has it a 'Shield Guardian' named Vorn was lost in the forests northwest of Camp Vengeance. The owner possessing its amulet of control amulet dead and thus amulet lost. The guardian thus frozen like a statue awaiting commands. Find and return them to me to be richly rewarded.”

Pulling Diero aside, the merchant continues his warnings in quiet accord, “Your questions about pirates has brought concern for your intents. While pirates indeed reside on this island, their presence is not welcomed. Unless you align yourself with the Zhentarim. You have been warned; your questions have gained the ears of authority.”