Name: Soar Jesperson Race: Half-elf Class: Paladin AS: 16/10/14/10/10/16 Background: Acolyte Backstory: Soar's a Doomguide, a paladin of Kelemvor, the god of the dead. She entered the temple as an acolyte after a family tragedy, out of a sense of devotion and responsibility. The temple's a pretty solemn, drab, and dour place, but Soar is different. She just always looks on the brighter side of life, unbelievably optimistic. No matter how much reality of death and mortality with which she was forced to wrestle... she always answers with a smile and arguing that things are really not that bad. She's like a female version of Korg in cadence and unflappability. After getting a lot of training at the temple, she was encouraged to go out and see the world, adventure, fight evil, just ANYTHING please get out and give her bretheren a rest from relentless positivity. She's become good friends with Meloon Wardragon and enjoys hearing his stories at the Yawning Portal. That's why she was there, and though she likes fights, and likes drinks, she's not disappointed to have missed the brawl and fight with the troll. Here she is, talking to Volo himself!
"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Geddarm! I'm sure we can find your friend. Thank you for the gold up front. Couple questions. You said you were playing Three-Dragon Ante with him at the Skewered Dragon two nights ago. Can I ask who won? How was he when you left him there?"
"Ah, well, I won some and he won some, on the whole it was about a wash. When I left Floon had had maybe more drinks than I, but he seemed alright. I can't say if he continued drinking after I left." Volo seems a bit ashamed that he left his friend in such a state, but who would have guessed he would disappear?
Nick looks around at the growing group and says, “Well this does seem more interesting than what I was thinking of doing, so I’ll gladly take that gold to find your friend. If we can get to the tavern by dusk, I don’t see why we can’t go now.” He stretches, and wraps his scarf a little tighter around his throat.
"Might as well go now." Kruk agrees as he pushes himself out of his chair, standing to his full height. "The konger we wait the more chance something bad is going to happen increases. Although there is a simple chance that this Floon was simply drunk and wandered off somewhere in that state."
Crisp, hearing the promise of coin will speak up, easily bought by any amount. "Did you say coin? I could surely help you with whatever you need. If there is a chance I could start something on fire and get paid for it, I'm in!"
Rou, the Human Barbarian and Pirate Crisp Wild, the Fire Genasi Sorcerer and Hermit Nick Vult, the Wood Elf Rogue and Soldier Krikruk (Kruk), the Bugbear Fighter and Mercenary Yasiri, the Yuan-ti Malison Warlock and Acolyte Leaves that Twitch in the Wind (Twitch), the Tabaxi Ranger and Urban Bounty Hunter Calelle Pidu, the Human Cleric and Soldier Anivar Durosin, the Drow Wizard Soar Jesperson, the Half-Elf Paladin and Acolyte
"Hi Nick, I'm Soar. This is exciting, isn't it? We'd got a good group here, and I'm sure we can find Floon for Mr. Geddarm." She stands up, grabs her things, tips the server, and is ready to walk to the Skewered Dragon.
[Soar is heading out the door, while Anivar has already left and is presumably en-route to the Skewered Dragon. Does anyone else have some business to attend to in the Yawning Portal? If not, I'll assume that the party (minus Anivar who is off on his own) begins making their way to the Dock Ward. I'll post again in a few hours.]
The newly formed party embarks for the Skewered Dragon. It is about an hour's walk from the Castle Ward where the Yawning Portal is to the Dock Ward.
As you turn a corner, you find yourselves on a street that has been cordoned off by the City Watch. Lying on the cobblestones are a half-dozen corpses, seemingly the victims of some terrible skirmish. Watch officers have disarmed and arrested three blood-drenched humans and are in the midst of questioning witnesses. One of the officers sees you. "Get on," she says. "Nothing to see here."
You travel further into the Dock Ward. Tall, densely packed tenements leave most of the neighborhood in shadow at ground level. Most of the street lamps have had their glass smashed and their candles stolen, and the smell of salt air an excrement linger as you pass by rows of run-down buildings.
One nearby shop stands out from the others. It has a deep purple facade, and in its window hangs a stuffed beholder. Above the door hangs a sign whose elaborate letters spell out "Old Xoblob Shob".