The Jungle's Claw #028

General Summary

3rd day of the Wasp, Year 13944
The ancient stones of The Shadim temple trembled as Hathrazar the Mummy Lord's command filled the chamber, his desiccated form wreathed in dark energies. The adventurers stood their ground, weapons ready, as shadows danced across weathered hieroglyphs that spoke of forgotten power.
BöötMóöntch charged forward with his enchanted, blazing sword "Bloodthirst", its holy flames consuming the lesser mummies and preventing their cursed dust from spreading. The blessed steel met undead flesh with devastating effect, each blow weakening the Mummy Lord's forces.
Thronn Zamda took careful aim with his bow, while his loyal companion Meat-Beak swooped through the chamber. The ranger's arrows found their mark with deadly precision, each shot guided by his hunter's mark and extraordinary strength granted by strange magics.
At Thronn's side, Fouk Shadim directed his homunculus companion Spyke to launch magical attacks, though the construct's aim proved less fortunate than its master had hoped. The artificial being's fire bolt went wide, yet its presence provided valuable tactical options throughout the battle.
Sherman's puppets, Gherman and Vorrin, bickered with strange purpose through the battle. The elf puppet's sharp tongue would later prove as dangerous as any blade, though for now their jerky movements served to distract and confound their undead foes.
The tide of battle shifted when Krikfleek, their one-time ally, revealed his treachery. "I offer these fools unto you, my Lord," he cried, reaching for the mysterious orb that pulsed with ancient power at the chamber's heart.
Hathrazar's response proved swift and merciless - a swarm of locusts descended upon the traitor, whose flesh began to liquefy into horrific sarcophagus slime. The transformation served as a grim warning of the powers they faced. The battle's fierce momentum faltered as Ratek the Minotaur struggled against the assassin vine's crushing embrace, its tendrils coiled tight around his mighty form. When Hathrazar's dreadful gaze fell upon him, supernatural fear gripped the warrior's heart. Paralyzed by the Mummy Lord's ancient magic, Ratek could only watch in helpless horror as his companions fought on around him, his proud spirit imprisoned by both physical bonds and mystical dread.
The Mummy Lord wielded his legendary abilities with terrible effect, conjuring whirlwinds of sand that filled the chamber with choking dust. Through this maelstrom, the adventurers pressed their attack, their determination unwavering.
Meat-Beak, guided by Thronn's commands, delivered the killing blow to Hathrazar. The victory proved costly - before his destruction, the Mummy Lord's final curse seeped necrotic energy into Thronn's flesh through contact with the sarcophagus slime, reducing his maximum hit points by nine.
In the battle's aftermath, Thronn attempted to activate the chamber's mysterious orb with his slime-covered hands, receiving only a shocking rebuke from the ancient device. The ranger's enhanced strength, while formidable, proved insufficient to unlock its secrets.
Fouk's scholarly insights revealed the rod they discovered among Hathrazar's possessions as a key to the orb's power - a ley line activation device similar to one they had encountered in the Corpseflower Temple. Its hieroglyphs hinted at possibilities both wondrous and terrible.
When Thronn seized the liquefied remains of Krikfleek, he hurled the mass at the assassin vines with devastating effect. The corrupted flora withered under the assault, though caustic remnants burned the ranger's hands.
With meticulous precision born of arcane study, Fook directed his homunculus Spyke in the delicate task of gathering the corrupted essence that had once been Krikfleek. The artificer drew his dagger of venom, its keen edge scraping carefully against Thronn's hands where caustic residue still burned. Drop by viscous drop, the sarcophagus slime - that dread substance of transformation and decay - trickled into a crystal vial held steady in Spyke's mechanical grasp.
With Hathrazar's destruction, the paralysis lifted from Ratek's limbs. Through the settling dust of battle, Sherman wasted no time, his keen eyes scanning the chamber's shadowed recesses. "I'm going to loot this transcendent's body and get the fuck out," the Goliath declared, methodically searching the fallen mummy lord's remains. His trained hands swiftly gathered ornate bronze bracers, ancient scrolls, and mysterious artifacts bearing shadim inscriptions. Even as chunks of stone began to rain from above, Sherman wrapped Hathrazar's ornate robes around the gathered treasures, fashioning a makeshift sack to carry their hard-won prizes. Rattek, now free from both vine and fear, guided them through crumbling corridors with practiced confidence. His mission from Kurgan - to retrieve these valuable allies - merged with their urgent flight from the collapsing temple's grasp.
Five grueling days of jungle travel lay ahead, but the dangers went far beyond the harsh terrain—for their path cut through Bloodclaw Warband territory, and with Chief Gruznak having placed a sizeable bounty on Thronn’s head for his betrayal, the party would need to be both swift and careful to avoid the deadly wrath of the Bloodclaw Warband.
8th day of the Wasp, Year 13944
Five days of arduous travel brought them to the welcoming walls of The Jungle's Claw Tavern. Kurgan greeted them with characteristic reserve, offering drinks on the house to celebrate their return.
The companions indulged freely in the establishment's exotic fare. Soul burns and goblin grogs flowed as Thronn ordered the finest drinks for himself and Lysara, though his attempts at charm fell short despite his generosity.
BöötMóöntch, though absent for much of the group’s deliberations, shared drinks with Shittisk and Vah of the Sinister Six, they too apparently having survived the ordeal of the Mummy's Tomb.
Tension mounted when Sherman's elf puppet made cutting remarks that drew the attention of Kurgan's massive Warg, Fangor. The beast's hackles rose, and only the tavernkeeper's intervention prevented violence from erupting.
The conversation turned to Grizburg, the goblin metropolis three hundred miles distant. Beneath its streets lay the Whispering Depths - ancient catacombs said to hold fragments of Zothra-Khaar, a god who fell during the Black Fire War.
The group debated using the ley line orb of the Corpseflower Temple for transport, but Kurgan firmly dismissed the idea. "We're not going to waste something that powerful on a 300-mile trip up the river," he declared, insisting they save such power for greater need.
Tales circulated of Slazgar Two-Eyes, the notorious goblin arms dealer who had vanished for eight years only to return transformed. His mysterious robotic eye and enhanced weapon-crafting abilities had made him a figure of both fear and fascination in the region.
Thronn spoke openly of his father and the price on his head - "wanted dead and deader" as he put it. Kurgan admitted the region had grown too dangerous even for his longtime establishment, considering relocation to Grizburg.
The Matrix of Earth's catastrophic failure cast long shadows over their discussion. Millennia ago, desperate earth gods had attempted to replicate Zastor's Matrix of Water, ignoring warnings that earth's essence was fundamentally incompatible with the design.
The resulting explosion had scarred the land forever, creating the corrupted landscapes of modern Nolavor. The tragedy had claimed not only the earth gods Nolavor and Liet-Nom, but also the evil god Zothra-Khaar, a god of transformation seduced by the Black Fire's promises.
Kurgan offered them sanctuary and training for a month, promising guidance to Grizburg via river barge - a journey of two weeks rather than risking the month-long overland route. The adventurers would have time to study their recovered artifacts and prepare for the challenges ahead.
Their path forward lay shrouded in uncertainty, but the mysteries of the Whispering Depths beckoned. Ancient conflicts and modern ambitions converged before them, promising revelations that could reshape their understanding of both past and future.

Rewards Granted

XP Awards

With the defeat of Hathrazar the Mummy Lord and the escape from the dungeon, and after one month of training under Kurgan and his cadre, the party all reach 48000 XP, Level Nine.
XP TRACKER
Thronn: Ranger Level 9, Huntsman Fouk: Rogue/Artificer Level 9, Shadow Mechanist Sherman: Barbarian Level: 9, Wrecker Bööt Móöntch: Blood hunter Level 9, Rite Initiate

The Price of Secrets

Deep within The Jungle's Claw's upper chamber, where shadows danced beneath watchful gargoyles, Kurgan sorted wealth claimed from dead empires. Ancient coins clinked as his calloused hands moved with practiced precision across the scarred oak table.

"Three hundred gold pieces each," he declared to Thronn and Fouk, sliding stacks of tarnished metal forward. "For the child soldiers and the Mummy Dust operation. A foundation payment, nothing more. Your true rewards lie in what comes next."

---

The Appraisal

At Kurgan's summons, Velasha Nightveil emerged from the darkness, her violet eyes sharp behind an obsidian monocle that caught the candlelight. The tiefling appraiser moved with unshakable calm, her nimble fingers gliding over each artifact as if revealing hidden secrets.

"By the Dead Gods," she whispered, lifting the Rod of Ley Line Activation. "This bears the mark of the Ancient Shadim. Such power should not exist in Nolavor."

Item	Kurgan's Words	Value
Rod of Ley Line Activation	"This ain't just some dusty relic—it's a bloody key to old-world power. You're lucky it hasn't fried ya just holdin' it. I'd wager 10,000 gold for this, but I wouldn't trust half the folk in this room to keep their mouths shut about you having it."	10,000 gp
Bracers of Defense	"Solid craftsmanship. Useful for anyone who doesn’t like wearin’ tin cans, which is most sensible folk. I’ll give ya 1,500 gold, but don’t let Velasha hear that—she might think I’m lowballin'."	1,500 gp
Orb of Residual Power	"Pretty to look at, but it's a bloody puzzle wrapped in glass. Worth 1,000 gold as is, but if you figure out how to light it up, you'll triple that easy. If you're smart, you'll let Velasha have a go at it."	1,000 gp
Staff of Withering	"This thing's got more curses clinging to it than a sailor's tongue. Touch it, and you'll feel the weight of a thousand funerals. I’ll give ya 5,000 gold—if to keep you from swinging it around in here."	5,000 gp

---

Mundane Treasure

Kurgan and Velasha meticulously examined the mundane items recovered from Hathrazar’s lair. Though lacking the raw power of the magical artifacts, these treasures carried their own weight in value—and danger.

Ornate Shadim Artifacts Velasha traced her gloved fingers over a gilded scepter, its intricate carvings shimmering under her monocle.

"These ceremonial relics scream Shadim craftsmanship. Scholars and collectors will pay handsomely for them—assuming they’re brave enough to risk owning such things."

Includes a gilded scepter, silver amulet, and carved tablets.

Value: 750 gp to the right buyer (collectors or scholars).

Krikfleek’s Remains (Alchemical Essence) Kurgan prodded the bubbling slime with the tip of a dagger, his expression twisted in disgust.

"This... thing is foul, but alchemists will pay a fortune for its secrets. It’s worth a risk—just don’t spill it."

Velasha nodded curtly.

"Necrotic alchemy thrives on essence like this. In the right hands, it’s a weapon or a cure... in the wrong hands, a disaster."

Residual slime left from Krikfleek’s corrupted form.

Uses: Crafting necrotic potions, poisons, or experimental research.

Ancient Coins and Gems Kurgan sifted through the gleaming pile of coins and gemstones, holding up a golden scarab to the candlelight.

"Coins to spend, gems to barter, and this scarab... well, let’s just say it’ll fetch a price if you keep it quiet."

Contents: 300 gp in ancient coins, 200 gp worth of gemstones, and a golden scarab brooch.

Value: Total 650 gp.

Cursed Necklace of Devotion Velasha picked up the delicate chain, its gemstone glowing faintly under her gaze. She recoiled slightly as the energy within pulsed.

"Beautiful, but cursed. The kind of thing that slips around a neck and refuses to let go. Dangerous, but its story makes it valuable."

Kurgan grunted.

"Curses have a way of making buyers nervous, but someone’ll want it—if only to see what it does."

A delicate necklace with a faintly glowing gemstone.

Effect: Slowly saps the wearer’s vitality unless the curse is removed.

Value: Highly situational—worth up to 300 gp to the right buyer.

MISSION GEAR

Kurgan presented the adventurers with powerful tools from his private vaults—equipment forged to sharpen their skills and ensure survival. Each item carried with it a weight of expectation.

Thronn Zamda Kurgan placed the Blackthorn Bow across the table, its dark wood etched with runes that pulsed faintly like veins in the jungle shadows.

"An arrow through the brush, Thronn. No cover will save them. Just make sure the prey you mark is worth the hunt."

Command Words: "One shot, one kill." When spoken, the target of your attack becomes your sworn prey until it dies or until dawn 7 days later. Only one sworn prey can exist at a time.
Benefits against Sworn Prey:
You gain Advantage on attack rolls against your sworn prey. The target gains no benefit from Half Cover or Three-Quarters Cover. You suffer no Disadvantage due to long range. On a hit, the attack deals an additional 3d6 piercing damage. Drawback: While your sworn prey lives, you have Disadvantage on attack rolls with all other weapons.
Curse of the Hunt: While attuned to the Blackthorn Bow, you cannot willingly end its attunement as long as your sworn prey lives. The jungle’s mark binds both hunter and hunted.
Slow Property: If you hit a creature with this bow and deal damage, you reduce its Speed by 10 feet until the start of your next turn.
Proficiency with a longbow allows you to add your proficiency bonus to attack rolls made with this weapon.
Mastery Property:
The Blackthorn Bow has the Slow mastery property. If the creature is hit multiple times by weapons with this property, the Speed reduction does not exceed 10 feet.

Fouk Shadim Kurgan handed Fouk a meticulously crafted Emberclaw, its blackened steel etched with glowing ember-like runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light.

"Velasha poured her best into this one, Fouk," Kurgan said, his gaze steady. "It’s more than a tool—it's a weapon for your craft. Forge. Burn. Build. Just don’t melt your own fingers off."

Emberclaw: A versatile, enchanted artisan’s tool tailored to Fouk's skills as a rogue, artificer, and arsonist. Can transform into any artisan’s tool (e.g., smith’s tools, alchemist’s supplies, tinker’s tools) as an action. While holding it, Fouk gains a +3 bonus to spell attack rolls and artificer spell save DCs. Fire Affinity: Adds 1d4 fire damage to spells that deal fire damage when using the Emberclaw as a spellcasting focus. Channel Cantrip: Once per day, Fouk can focus on the Emberclaw to temporarily learn any cantrip of his choice for 8 hours. The cantrip becomes an artificer cantrip for the duration.

"Velasha called it the Emberclaw," Kurgan added with a sly grin. "Said it’ll give your enemies plenty of reasons to fear the fire."

Sherman Kurgan passed over the Crystal Anchor Bracers, thick bands etched with faint magical circuitry.

"Gherman and Vorrin will dance without strings now—just don’t let them run off without you."

Once per day, Sherman can detach a puppet, allowing it to move independently up to 30 feet for 1 minute.

The puppet retains Sherman’s mental stats and AC but acts under his direction.

Gherman: Gains a reaction to impose disadvantage on an attack targeting an ally within 5 feet, once per short rest.

Vorrin: Gains the ability to deal 1d6 acid damage once per turn when making a melee attack.

Ironedge Harness Kurgan held up the Ironedge Harness, its woven steel cords gleaming with faint frost and ancient etchings of the Ironedge Mountains.

"A relic from the high cliffs, forged to give strength to those who carry impossible burdens. Wear it well, Sherman—you’ll need every ounce of it."

While attuned to the Ironedge Harness, Sherman’s Strength score becomes 23, unless his Strength is already equal to or greater than 23.

The harness grants advantage on Athletics checks made to climb or grapple.

When Sherman uses his puppets, he may add his Strength modifier to their melee attack rolls in place of Dexterity.

\

BöötMóöntch Kurgan laid the Vowbound Codex carefully before BöötMóöntch, its black leather cover faintly shimmering with shifting golden runes.

"This tome carries the secrets of those who struck like lightning and fled like shadows. Study it well, and you might yet outrun death itself."

If BöötMóöntch spends 48 hours studying the Vowbound Codex over six days, his Dexterity increases by 2, to a maximum of 22. Unlocks the Rite of Swiftness, enhancing his Crimson Rite feature: +10 feet to movement speed for 1 minute. May take the Dash action as a bonus action during the duration. The manual becomes a mundane book after its magic is used, its golden script fading into nothingness.

---

The Month of Training - 8th day of the Wasp to 8th of the Firefly, 13944

"Power grows like poison - feed it carefully, or it will consume you from within."

— Velasha Nightveil

Through thirty days of relentless training, The Jungle's Claw's upper chambers echoed with the sounds of combat and crackling magic. Kurgan drove each warrior toward their breaking point, while Velasha's arcane insights pushed them beyond mortal limits. Sherman learned to channel his rage through his cursed puppets, their movements growing more fluid and deadly with each passing day. Gherman and Vorrin's voices grew stronger, their mockery now sharp enough to draw blood.

The night air fills with otherworldly screams as Fouk experiments with his new Emberclaw. Green flames dance across the workshop floor while Velasha guides his understanding of artificial life. In the corner, a half-formed homunculus twitches, its crystal eyes reflecting its creator's burning ambition.

BöötMóöntch spent countless hours with the Vowbound Codex, its shimmering pages demanding blood and sacrifice to reveal their secrets. Under Kurgan’s brutal training, he pushed himself through deadly obstacle courses and grueling combat drills, bleeding freely as the Codex bound its power to him. Velasha watched with a keen eye, guiding his rituals when his focus wavered, her voice a quiet reminder of the darker arts he flirted with. By the end of his trials, BöötMóöntch had fulfilled the Codex’s demands, his reflexes honed to inhuman precision, every movement now a testament to the price he had paid.

"You’ve bled enough for this gift, BöötMóöntch. Make sure the power is worth its cost."

– Velasha Nightveil

"Strength alone breaks bones. Betrayal? That sharpens the edge that slips between the ribs."

— Kurgan, to Fangor

Thronn devoted himself to mastering the Blackthorn Bow, each arrow finding its mark with uncanny precision. His connection to Meat-Beak deepened through shared hunts in the surrounding jungle, their bond strengthened by blood and instinct. Yet beneath his focused exterior lurked constant awareness of the Bloodclaw's bounty on his head - a pressure that drove him to perfect every shot.
In rare moments of rest, the group gathered around Kurgan's private hearth, where he shared dark tales of the Whispering Depths. He spoke of ancient powers sleeping beneath Grizburg's streets, of wishes granted at terrible prices, and of those who ventured too deep and returned changed - if they returned at all. Velasha added her own insights, her mercury-silver eyes gleaming as she detailed the forbidden magics that waited in the darkness below.

"The Depths don't just echo with whispers - they hunger for them. Every secret you carry down there becomes a weapon that can be turned against you."

— Kurgan

On the final night of training, Velasha gathered them for a ritual of binding. Burning incense filled the chamber as she marked each warrior with sigils of protection drawn in poisoned ink. "These marks will shield your minds," she explained, her tail weaving patterns in the smoke. "But remember - in the Depths, even shadows cast shadows. Trust nothing, not even your own eyes."

When the last candle burns low, Kurgan raises a toast with glasses filled with liquid darkness. "To power," he growls, "and to survival." The liquid burns like ice in their veins, sealing their pact with ancient magic that tastes of blood and destiny.

The Final Night

The evening before their departure simmered with tension and silent ambition. The Harmonicon of Eternal Dissonance played its unsettling melody in the common room of The Jungle's Claw, its notes threading through the haze of pipe smoke and flickering candlelight.

"The river barge leaves at dawn," Kurgan declared, his rough voice carrying over the quiet murmurs. "The Eighth of Firefly, Year 13944. Grizburg awaits, and beyond it... the Whispering Depths. Use your gifts well. The road ahead devours the unprepared, and it won’t care how clever or ruthless you think you are."

Velasha Nightveil, perched in a shadowed corner, ran her obsidian monocle over the gathered group, her tone smooth but edged.

"Trust is a luxury you can’t afford, but rivals can be useful... as much as allies. Just remember—loyalty dies faster than greed."

The champions spent the evening sharpening weapons, testing their newly gifted tools, and silently calculating how far they could push each other before someone broke. Kurgan, who would accompany them, watched the group with the air of a man who had seen many such arrangements end in blood.

"Make no mistake," Kurgan added, raising his goblet and narrowing his gaze. "You’ll need each other to survive what’s coming—but the shadows don’t care about loyalty. Whether you’re rivals or allies tomorrow, what matters is you don’t die like fools."

Coins clinked, blades glinted, and the unspoken weight of what lay ahead settled heavily on them. The room felt like a den of vipers—bound together for now by mutual purpose, but each coiled and ready to strike when the moment came.
Tomorrow, they would board the barge for Grizburg, and the journey into the Whispering Depths would begin. Whether fortune or death awaited, none of them would step back from the promise of power and coin.

Campaign

Dead Gods

Protagonists

BootMoontch

Fouk Shadim

Neutral Evil Variant Human (Criminal / Spy)
Rogue 5
Artificer 4

66 / 66 HP

STR
9

DEX
20

CON
15

INT
15

WIS
8

CHA
8

Thronn Zamda

Gherman

Lawfull Evil Goliath (Outlander)
Barbarian 4

45 / 45 HP

STR
19

DEX
14

CON
17

INT
9

WIS
13

CHA
7

Report Date

15 Dec 2024

Primary Location

Kanonos Region

Secondary Location

Central Nolavor

Related Plots

• The Jungle's Claw

Related Characters

• Fouk Shadim
• Gherman
• Meat Beak
• Sherman
• Thronn Zamda
• Vorrin Shadowleaf