The barmaid was wiping down the tabletop, trying to hurry to her next task when the tortle approached and asked for milk, "Uh, yes, right away" She smiled before retreating to the icebox to retrieve cold glass of milk and handing it to the tortle, "Anything else, sir?"
"I was patrolling the north side of the Dock Ward when I figured I'd stop in for a quick drink, it was a good thing I did" Dain chuckled. When the hooded female sat down at the table, the dwarf looked to her and took note of her shyness, her posture and cloak told him she preferred to keep her distance, "Good work with the troll" he gave a smile while trying not to force her into a conversation, but also wanting to give her her well deserve recognition.
A plumped man donning a floppy hat and striped scarf approaches the table, "Pardon my rudeness, but that display was marvelous."
Dain gave a slide nod to the man and grunted, not entirely too into receiving recognition, "Just doing the job."
"I was wondering if you three would hear me out, I have a request" The plumped man said. Dain gave Nearos a smile and mouthed "A job", one thing he respected about Nearos has always been the fact the elf would take on the most odd jobs, even those Dain himself couldn't take given his profession.
“Sugar!” Said the tortle as he remembered how he liked the white nectar. “My apologies but some sugar, sugah” he quickly spoke as his ears caught the sound of adventure from his stool. Immediately the tortle turned and stared at the table with even more interest and awe and refrained himself from butting in before he could hear more. “Dearest Selûne, am I here for them” mumbled the tortle under his breath before turning back around and awaiting patiently for the plumped man to divulge more.
He took a sip from his drink, and immediately regretted the forgetful tortle. “Milk wit’ no sugar, my bane.”
Nearos eyed the floppy hatted man, his gaze glistened as the words "A job" left the lips of his most trusted friend. The two known each other since Nearos first wondered into waterdeep lost, & a bit naive. Now, he's a natural in the way of the cities. Always having a finger in every cookie jar. "So, what kind of job we talking here, spook?" He spoke before taking a drag. Switching his gaze over to the hoodie woman. "What kind of caster are you?" Spotting a grin, as smokes raises from his nostrils
Runa was reluctant to answer what did matter. She was taught to keep herself closed off to outsiders especially if they were not if her clan. The tragedy that befell her made her all the more weary. “You need not know” she answered glancing at the male. She requested her meal and took a sip of the drink that was put in front of her and closed her eyes savoring the cool sweet taste of her drink.
The figure who approached you strokes his mustache, adjusts his floppy hat, and tightens his scarf. “Volothamp Geddarm, chronicler, wizard, and celebrity, at your service. I trust you’ve noted the violence in our fair city these past tendays. I haven’t seen so much blood since my last visit to Baldur’s Gate! But now I fear I have misplaced a friend amid this odious malevolence.
“My friend’s name is Floon Blagmaar. He’s got more beauty than brains, and I worry he took a bad way home a couple nights ago and was kidnapped — or worse. If you agree to track him down with all due haste, I can offer you ten dragons apiece now, and I can give you each ten times that when you find Floon. May I prevail upon you in my hour of need?”
Dain grunted with a nod, but he knew well that it wasn't his answer that Volo needed, for most watchmen, especially him, would take up such a task; it was the other two Volo waited for, for they were wildcards and by the look on Volo's face, he was worried for his friend and needed as much help as he could get.
The Tortle stood from his seat and walked to the group with excitement. He gave a hearty slap to the back of the wizard before speaking, "Hello ladies and gents. Mr. Geddarm, I overheard you predicament. I do hope you won't mind a cleric's service in this matter." The Tortle before introducing himself held his necklace towards them so they could see more clearly the holy symbol around his neck. It was a iron plate with the engraving of eyes and what look like 7 stars surrounding them. "Let me introduce myself I'm Mortimer Windsor, my friends call me Morty, I'm a cleric of the lovely Selune goddess of the moon." He said with a glee in his eye. "I'm sure i could be of some help to you gents and madam."
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The barmaid was wiping down the tabletop, trying to hurry to her next task when the tortle approached and asked for milk, "Uh, yes, right away" She smiled before retreating to the icebox to retrieve cold glass of milk and handing it to the tortle, "Anything else, sir?"
"I was patrolling the north side of the Dock Ward when I figured I'd stop in for a quick drink, it was a good thing I did" Dain chuckled. When the hooded female sat down at the table, the dwarf looked to her and took note of her shyness, her posture and cloak told him she preferred to keep her distance, "Good work with the troll" he gave a smile while trying not to force her into a conversation, but also wanting to give her her well deserve recognition.
A plumped man donning a floppy hat and striped scarf approaches the table, "Pardon my rudeness, but that display was marvelous."
Dain gave a slide nod to the man and grunted, not entirely too into receiving recognition, "Just doing the job."
"I was wondering if you three would hear me out, I have a request" The plumped man said. Dain gave Nearos a smile and mouthed "A job", one thing he respected about Nearos has always been the fact the elf would take on the most odd jobs, even those Dain himself couldn't take given his profession.
“Sugar!” Said the tortle as he remembered how he liked the white nectar. “My apologies but some sugar, sugah” he quickly spoke as his ears caught the sound of adventure from his stool. Immediately the tortle turned and stared at the table with even more interest and awe and refrained himself from butting in before he could hear more. “Dearest Selûne, am I here for them” mumbled the tortle under his breath before turning back around and awaiting patiently for the plumped man to divulge more.
He took a sip from his drink, and immediately regretted the forgetful tortle. “Milk wit’ no sugar, my bane.”
Nearos eyed the floppy hatted man, his gaze glistened as the words "A job" left the lips of his most trusted friend. The two known each other since Nearos first wondered into waterdeep lost, & a bit naive. Now, he's a natural in the way of the cities. Always having a finger in every cookie jar. "So, what kind of job we talking here, spook?" He spoke before taking a drag. Switching his gaze over to the hoodie woman. "What kind of caster are you?" Spotting a grin, as smokes raises from his nostrils
Runa was reluctant to answer what did matter. She was taught to keep herself closed off to outsiders especially if they were not if her clan. The tragedy that befell her made her all the more weary. “You need not know” she answered glancing at the male. She requested her meal and took a sip of the drink that was put in front of her and closed her eyes savoring the cool sweet taste of her drink.
The figure who approached you strokes his mustache, adjusts his floppy hat, and tightens his scarf. “Volothamp Geddarm, chronicler, wizard, and celebrity, at your service. I trust you’ve noted the violence in our fair city these past tendays. I haven’t seen so much blood since my last visit to Baldur’s Gate! But now I fear I have misplaced a friend amid this odious malevolence.
“My friend’s name is Floon Blagmaar. He’s got more beauty than brains, and I worry he took a bad way home a couple nights ago and was kidnapped — or worse. If you agree to track him down with all due haste, I can offer you ten dragons apiece now, and I can give you each ten times that when you find Floon. May I prevail upon you in my hour of need?”
Dain grunted with a nod, but he knew well that it wasn't his answer that Volo needed, for most watchmen, especially him, would take up such a task; it was the other two Volo waited for, for they were wildcards and by the look on Volo's face, he was worried for his friend and needed as much help as he could get.
The Tortle stood from his seat and walked to the group with excitement. He gave a hearty slap to the back of the wizard before speaking, "Hello ladies and gents. Mr. Geddarm, I overheard you predicament. I do hope you won't mind a cleric's service in this matter." The Tortle before introducing himself held his necklace towards them so they could see more clearly the holy symbol around his neck. It was a iron plate with the engraving of eyes and what look like 7 stars surrounding them. "Let me introduce myself I'm Mortimer Windsor, my friends call me Morty, I'm a cleric of the lovely Selune goddess of the moon." He said with a glee in his eye. "I'm sure i could be of some help to you gents and madam."