[Thanks for joining! I plan to post about once per day - it could be more, it could be less. Please create your character sheet on D & D Beyond if you haven't yet done so. Starting equipment is what you choose through the character creator, plus any items given to you by myself. Try to be clear in your posts - about what you want to do, what you do do, and I will do the same. If you're not sure of something, use the OOC (Out of Character) Chat (it's a private message with all of you on it].
Over the last 10-day or so, you have been…noticing things, strange things, in your daily lives. A misheard word now and again, strange whispers; the feeling that everyone is staring at you; waking up in the middle of the night from a dream that is always the same: decaying and rotting foliage with trees that walk, the buzzing of lies, the darkening of the earth. It always fades the same way too - with an image of an inn in Waterdeep – The Yawning Portal, according to the sign. "Come," a deep and strong voice resonates loudly in your mind, startling you from your dreams.
In your most recent travels, each of you has come across signs that point you towards the bustling town of Waterdeep, located on the Sword Coast. Random and strange encounters warning you not to go to the "city of deep water;" birds falling out of the sky to fall into an arrow shape pointing towards Waterdeep; in one case, an old beggar upon seeing you ripped her eyes out and told you that "you needed them more than she,"; and cryptic notes delivered by horse or raven asking you to meet in the famous Yawning Portal Inn. The only thing you have been given (in various ways) is a name: Adathar the Wanderer.
Map 1 - Overview
Although a bit inexperienced, you're smart enough to know that this is not normal. However, each of you has their own reasons to following the signs. Besides, each of you have felt compelled to make your way to the Inn, which you know happens to also be one of the more famous entrances into Undermountain. From what you have heard, it's also one of the fastest ways to die.
You arrive separately in Waterdeep in the early afternoon on Autumn day. You begin asking directions to the Inn and head in that direction. The city sprawls and stretches and is full of commotion, noise, and movement. Each of you think you feel the stares of the townspeople and, you think, the knowing glances, fake smiles, and the shaking heads of the old folk who knew better. Eventually, you get to the inn, just like in your dreams (or were they nightmares?) It is a large, three-story building and seems quite busy at the moment with people going to and from regularly.
You are standing at the front of the Inn. The sign waves gently in the breeze and there are a couple of patrons outside the door on the landing talking. What do you do?
[Feel free to put as much or as little detail as you like]
It has been a few years since Lorell has ventured into a settlement, but the with the visions of dark forests and the palpable distress present in nature Lorell has ventured to the place his dreams have led... The Yawning Portal. Avoiding the gaze of the townsfolk Lorell steps into the Inn, looking around for a person who might know of Adathar the Wanderer. Lorell walks over to the bar and sits down.
"Hello I'm not from around here, what's a mild spirit that you would suggest for a weary traveler?" Lorell asks.
Garnet ignored the signs at first after all her time on the surface has been short and her scope of the world limited to her familar mountain home. But when a bird made arrow falls from the sky you tend to question your life choices. So she chose to make her way to the storm coast. Now she stood outside the Yawning Portal inn she had seen in her nightmares. Garnet observed at first watching people make there way inside trying to decide what the wander could look like. While she knew the name of the person she was looking for...her dreams were not exactly descriptive. Noticing a group gathered on the porch of the inn, possibly locals. Garnet decided the best thing she could do was ask. After all she was never one avoid people and if they were local they may have the information she needed. If they didn't she would at least know that the person she was ment to find was not local. Honestly someone named Adathar the Wanderer would ethier be well know and the subject of town gossip or hideing their identity and a bit more difficult to find . She straighted travel worn clothes just a bit, smoothed her hair down and tried to knock a little dirt from her boots. Satisfied Garnet walked up to the small with a friendly smile. Stand a at the bottom of the portch to not infringe on personal space. " Good afternoon, I hope I'm not interupting. I'm looking for someone I am supposed to meet here." She paused looking towards the inn. " Goes by the name Adathar the Wanderer, have you heard of them?"
Krom looks up at the sign that designates the building as the Yawning Portal and takes in the full size of it with a low whistle; not having really seen a three-story inn before. With his warhammer propped up on one shoulder he walks inside finding an empty seat at the bar. Taking a seat, he drops the warhammer with the handle of the weapon resting up against the bar within reach. Krom is a little tall for a Dwarf standing around the five foot mark and has black hair that he keeps brushed back, with the exception of a few tufts of hair that always seem to stick out randomly. His black beard is well kept with two small braids, one on either side, and ending just above his belt; with an amulet in the shape of flaming anvil that is kept in front of his beard. His tanned skin can be seen between the gaps in his chain mail armor and he speaks softly in a deep baritone voice. "I'll have some ale when you get the chance. If you have dwarven ale I'll take that, but if not just regular ale will do. Oh, and some food as well, please." Krom looks around the room after placing his order just scanning to see what kind of patrons this place serves.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Be excellent to each other, and roll for initiative dudes!
Ithelion was in the midst of planning to leave her home for the first time in many years when the strange looks began, then the signs and portents, and finally the intrusive visions that came even in the deepest meditation. Feeling that they were a warning, she was forced to drop her plans to leave, expecting that the world would slowly return to normal if she changed her path. But with time they only got worse.
It was clearly a summons rather than a warning, so she investigated what else it might mean. Her research led her to a complex – and frustrating – discussion with her master over the nature of free will and the meaning of fate. She reluctantly came to the conclusion that, if it was fate, she had no choice but to go, as it would be best to spend her resources wisely rather than resist the inevitable. Yet, if she truly had free will – something she fervantly hopes to be true – then she also had to go: these might be signs that she was being called to a greater purpose for a reason, a reason that was either benevolent or malign. If benevolent, then it was an opportunity. If malign, then perhaps another, less able, person might be called – and in both cases she asked herself: if not her, then who?
As she approaches the door to the inn, sweating slightly with the now-familiar weight of her gear, she reminds herself of the importance of free will and her hopes that this is in fact a benevolent invitation. With a deep breath she gets ready to step inside when she hears someone ask for Adethar, and stops dead in her tracks, turning around.
(Edited after I read Garnet's response properly)
Torn, and curious to hear the answer to the question, Ithelion remains near the door, looking on.
[[ OOC(?):
Rough description:
Ithelion is a little over 5'6", with silver-grey hair and a light tan, and light grey eyes. As with other elves, it is hard to guess her age, especially under all the grime from travel. She has clearly been on the road for some time and is wearing dusty travel gear, no obvious armour, but carrying a bulky pack with a bedroll beneath, and a longbow. She also has a dagger and sword at her side, though both look like they have seen little use. And there is a tired and dusty Owl sheltering under her hair on her shoulder.
Daemyar enters the Yawning Portal and watches for a sign.
He’d seen many signs by now. Signs of his imminent glory, as far as he could tell. Unfortunately, that meant exploring a facet of combat his people did not and would not see: secrecy, and hiding.
Daemyar entered this tavern and this city wrapped in a cloak with a scarf covering his face, and a wide brim, low hat covering his features. Even this was not enough, likely. Still, he felt it only went to show his skill and bravery.
Beneath his long cloak, he held two daggers in his fists, ready to strike.
It has been a few years since Lorell has ventured into a settlement, but the with the visions of dark forests and the palpable distress present in nature Lorell has ventured to the place his dreams have led... The Yawning Portal. Avoiding the gaze of the townsfolk Lorell steps into the Inn, looking around for a person who might know of Adathar the Wanderer. Lorell walks over to the bar and sits down.
"Hello I'm not from around here, what's a mild spirit that you would suggest for a weary traveler?" Lorell asks.
You enter the Yawning Portal and immediately your senses are assaulted by the smells of stale ale, sweat, and a cold, earthy feeling that the fires don't completely erase. The first floor is dominated by a large, open pit with a hoist of some sort perched over it.
BAR
The bar is back and to the left so you weave your way around tables and don't draw much attention. The barkeep is polishing glasses as Lorell walks in. He looks to be an older man - perhaps 50 summers or more? - though you can tell by his physique and movements that this is not a man to trifle with. He sports long mutton chops that meet under his nose. As you look over the bar you can see a loaded crossbow hanging on a peg. He barely looks up as you sit at the bar and grunts when you ask your question, "I'd suggest stay away from spirits altogether, leaf-lover. They're apt to give you a fright." A moment of silence goes by before he grins and sets the rag down. "Ah. Ye're a bit green, no offense intended. Well, we have a wide assortment here. If ye're not fer something strong, I can get ye some mint tea or a flavoured water - or maybe a mild wine."
Krom looks up at the sign that designates the building as the Yawning Portal and takes in the full size of it with a low whistle; not having really seen a three-story inn before. With his warhammer propped up on one shoulder he walks inside finding an empty seat at the bar. Taking a seat, he drops the warhammer with the handle of the weapon resting up against the bar within reach. Krom is a little tall for a Dwarf standing around the five foot mark and has black hair that he keeps brushed back, with the exception of a few tufts of hair that always seem to stick out randomly. His black beard is well kept with two small braids, one on either side, and ending just above his belt; with an amulet in the shape of flaming anvil that is kept in front of his beard. His tanned skin can be seen between the gaps in his chain mail armor and he speaks softly in a deep baritone voice. "I'll have some ale when you get the chance. If you have dwarven ale I'll take that, but if not just regular ale will do. Oh, and some food as well, please." Krom looks around the room after placing his order just scanning to see what kind of patrons this place serves.
The barkeep turns from Lorell to see to the dwarf. "Aye, what a surprise. Dwarven Ale it is," he says as he reaches for a mug to fill. "Miranda! Food." The barkeep's voice is steady and strong and full of command. "It'll run you 4 silvers for everything," he says to Krom as he sets the big mug of ale down in front of him.
Looking around you see a half-elf sitting at the bar, with whom the barkeep was probably just speaking with. You see some people around the lip of the giant pit in the middle of the room, it looks as though something is being prepared there but you're not really sure. You notice a few groups of people chatting and drinking, some serving girls and boys talking with cutomers. As you continue to scan around, you notice a figure enter the bar, a scarf over their face and sporting a wide brimmed hat. You shrug, just another customer. However, you feel rather than see, the ire of the barkeep behind you rising. You look back to see the barkeep staring at the newcomer, his eyes cold and hard. His jaw is clenched and his knuckles white on the bar. [Lorell, when you're ready let the barkeep know what you want]
Garnet ignored the signs at first after all her time on the surface has been short and her scope of the world limited to her familar mountain home. But when a bird made arrow falls from the sky you tend to question your life choices. So she chose to make her way to the storm coast. Now she stood outside the Yawning Portal inn she had seen in her nightmares. Garnet observed at first watching people make there way inside trying to decide what the wander could look like. While she knew the name of the person she was looking for...her dreams were not exactly descriptive. Noticing a group gathered on the porch of the inn, possibly locals. Garnet decided the best thing she could do was ask. After all she was never one avoid people and if they were local they may have the information she needed. If they didn't she would at least know that the person she was ment to find was not local. Honestly someone named Adathar the Wanderer would ethier be well know and the subject of town gossip or hideing their identity and a bit more difficult to find . She straighted travel worn clothes just a bit, smoothed her hair down and tried to knock a little dirt from her boots. Satisfied Garnet walked up to the small with a friendly smile. Stand a at the bottom of the portch to not infringe on personal space. " Good afternoon, I hope I'm not interupting. I'm looking for someone I am supposed to meet here." She paused looking towards the inn. " Goes by the name Adathar the Wanderer, have you heard of them?"
The three men stop talking, their eyes glued to you. Even in a place like Waterdeep, confluence of trade, culture, and peoples that it is, the presence of a genasi is somewhat rare and auspicious. These men are obviously traders and take your presence as a type of boon. One of them speaks up, "Uh, h-hello lady. I'm Trim, a trader outa Port Llast. I ain't never heard of no Adathar before but inside there be plenty of wanderers." Garnet, you notice another coming toward you and up the stairs. The elf is slight of frame and female. She slows halfway up the stairs and seems to take interest in your conversation. The elf pauses at the door as a flustered Trim looks back at his two mates, "Well!? Ain't you hearing her question?" The other two answer in the negative. They haven't heard of who you are looking for. "Well," Trim starts again, with a glance at the elf near the door. "You might be askin' Durnan. He owns this place and he's got his paws in many pies, if ye catch me meaning." Trim grins. "Pleasant day, lady." He and his friends continue to look and whisper among themselves, trying not to be so obvious about it (and failing).
Ithelion continues to stare at Garnet, only now realizing who asked the question, then either approaches her, or says as Garnet approaches, somewhat hestitantly, "I...I could not help but hear you ask for Adathar. I am seeking them as well."
She waits a moment then adds, still a little unsure of herself. "Ithelion. My name is Ithelion. Did I hear correctly? Perhaps...if so, we should follow their advice and go inside?"
Garnet grinned and thanked the men aware they were no longer paying attention and turned her attention to the elf who introduced herself. The elf, Ithelion looked a little timid and uncertain, although if she was looking for Adathar it was very possible Ithelion may have had a similar experiences that lead the elf to this inn. Garnet nodded "Yes you heard correct , I'm seeking Adathar." She paused and offered her left hand in greeting, a habit formed from the unusual appearance of her right arm, made of solid red crystal. Shards jutting out all the way to her shoulder giving the appearance of a spiked pauldron when she wore none. A Stark contrast to the dark grey stone color of the rest of her skin.
"My name is Amandaline Garnet, Garnet for short" she glanced toward the inn "I agree we can head inside and discuss this further." She grinned "You look like you could use a hot meal just as much as I could"
After his initial scan of the room, Krom takes a drink of his ale and sets the mug down with a satisfied sigh, "Aye, that's the stuff." Feeling like this might be an establishment where trouble can start and stop very quickly, he turns his attention to the mug before him taking small drinks until his food arrives. While he reaches with one hand into a pouch to palm a gold coin to pay with later.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Be excellent to each other, and roll for initiative dudes!
Finally managing to rally herself, at least to some extent, Ithelion smiles and takes the offered hand a little awkwardly.
"I am pleased to know that I am not alone, at least. And...yes. Let's go inside, the thought of food, and somewhere to rest is very appealing." she says, adjusting the position of her pack.
She smiles and nods, then turns and heads through the door. Once inside she steps to the side and scans the room, hoping she might glimpse someone or something that reminds her of the strange visions she has been experiencing.
You open the door to the Inn and are immediately buffeted by the smells, noise, and hoots from all sides - though your presence doesn't immediately cause anything weird to happen. Several glance at the Genasi, as is to be expected, but other than that most of the attention is focused on the center of the room where a big pit opens up - you might even say it "yawns" - taking up much of the first floor's common area. Someone has begun a chant, though you're not really sure what it means. Not really understanding what is happening, you notice a young man and woman - a swordsman and a spellcaster, by the looks of them - each step into a loop on a rope that is tied to some machine that extends over the pit. The chanting stops as a muscular man makes his way through the crowd. You hear whispers and connect the dots: this must be Durnan, the owner of the Inn. Durnan steps up onto a small stool to get as close to eye level as he can to the would-be adventurers. Grunting, he says, "Ye want this lad? Lass?"Looking to both, you think you see a bit of sadness in his eyes, even from this distance. It is gone in a flash however. "Aye, and may you all be green with envy when we come back!" The swordsman is confident, the magic-user is hard to read. Sighing, Durnan continues, "Aye then. Ye know the rules, aye? 1 gold from each of ye on the way down. It's the same on the way up, don't forget." The swordsman flips both coins to Durnan. "And there'll be more than that when we come back! Haha!" Durnan turns to the boy working the hoist and nods. He watches as they slowly descend into the darkness. He shakes his head and walks back to his bar. The crowd however, mills about the lip of the opening. You look up and around at the second and third floor balconies and they also have people watching. You hear bets being made. It seems many have little to no confidence in the pair that went into the hole. Looking around, you see a couple figures at the bar, and some single patrons scattered here and there.
Ithelion raises her eyebrows and glances at Garnet, then heads towards the bar, keeping her eyes on Durnan. When she gets there, she tries to find a seat, then turns to Durnan, smiling, "A brandy, if I may...Elvish if you have it...it's been a long day. And...perhaps...what food do you have at this time of day?"
Assuming prestidigitation does not just dump dirt in the floor, she starts absent-mindedly cleaning her clothes when she is othwerwise uncoccupied.
The pointy tip of a crossbow bolt under her chin causes the High Elf to immediately freeze. The slight lifting of the crossbow under her chin forces her eyes to raise......slowly. The arcane sounds and gestures she was just doing cease, as does much of the noise in the room. The sound of swords unbuckling can be heard. "Aye, aye, that's a good lass, easy now." Durnan's voice is gravelly and level as he looks into her eyes, his own brown eyes cold and unflinching. "There be no magic in this place, unless ye be askin' me. Understand? We cannot have spellcasters flinging spells so close to Undermountain," he says, gesturing at the hole, "It tends to....attract thing," he finishes.
"Now,"he pipes up, "We have soup, and the Waterdhavian Platter, which is a mixture of food. Aye, it's what the good dwarf there is chowing down." Durnan nods to the Dwarf and returns his crossbow to its peg on the wall. The mood in the room shifts, once again turning more jovial. Onlookers hoping for a bloodier conclusion are disappointed and go back to what they were doing before. "Hmmm, Elvish brandy, eh? Lemme look...no, I don't have that but ah, yes. Here is some Lindlewell Brandy. It's Gnomish but will light the fire in yer belly. That's 6 silver altogether. Miranda! One more."
Lorell sheepishly replies to the barkeep "A mint tea would be fantastic, it would be a welcome feeling from such a long time traveling". Lorell notices the dwarf to his left, but his lack of meaningful human interaction in past few years makes him feel too awkward stare in the Dwarf's direction. All the sounds and smells had created a sensory overload for Lorell and after a quiet moment of reflection in his own head (Remember what you came here for, you don't have to be so nervous), Lorell looks at the barkeep again and asks in a whispered hush "Pray tell, do you know of a man called Adathar the Wanderer. I have had visions and signs pointing me to that man, who might possibly be in this very inn".
"Ah! An excellent choice, one of me favourites! It's 3 coppers an' Miranda here'll get you fixed right up lad."
At the mention of Adathar, Durnan stiffens - almost imperceptibly so. He turns around and reaches under the bar. Sighing, he asks, "What's ye name, lad?" [I'll assume Lorell tells him]. "Aye, here you are." Durnan hands him a note (unopened as far as you can tell). As he hold it out and Lorell reaches for it, Durnan leans in real close. "There'll be no breaking things, stealing things, or flinging spells about in my tavern. Got it? Good."
Garnet watched the exchange between the barkeep and the group hanging above the portal looking around at the other patrons. Seeing what looked like a solem affair disguised as entertainment, made her a little uncomfortable. The Yawning Portal made sense now at least. When the crossbow came up Garnet's muscles tensed her hand flying to her sword, but she stopped there. The man behind the counter looked stern but not threatening. She sent a wary look at the portal it gave her an in easy feeling like death lurked beneath and understood the reason for the man's reaction. Shaking herself from the distraction she tuned into what he saying. "Lindewell for me" Garnet paused looking over at what the dwarf as eating, she grinned and took a seat losing her melancholy at the prospect of a good meal."And definitely that." Soup could be had on the road, inn's are for real food.
Lorell thinks to himself, who would use magic so close to that gaping maw? Slightly turning his head to look at the pit in the center of the room.
"Thank you" Lorell says reaching out his hand cautiously to take the letter.
Lorell examines the letter and slowly opens it and reads the parchment, eyes tracing the words, and with a single nod, he knew he would know why he was brought to this in.
Lorell puts the letter back onto the table and slides it in the direction of Durnan, "When would it be appropriate to pay for the tea?" Lorell asks as the letter hangs slightly off the bar counter facing Durnan. "Also," Lorell asks inquisitively to Durnan "what time is it?"
While she waits for he food to arrive, Ithelion ponders what kind of being would build an Inn on top of something so dangerous that even the most trivial of magic represents a threat. She watches him for a time before deciding that she may never fully understand humans, though suspects it's a convenient lie to prevent an already unruly crowd from becoming unmanageable. At least she hopes so.
When the food arrives she says, "I am seeking someone called Adathar the Wanderer. Do you know if they might be here?"
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[Thanks for joining! I plan to post about once per day - it could be more, it could be less. Please create your character sheet on D & D Beyond if you haven't yet done so. Starting equipment is what you choose through the character creator, plus any items given to you by myself. Try to be clear in your posts - about what you want to do, what you do do, and I will do the same. If you're not sure of something, use the OOC (Out of Character) Chat (it's a private message with all of you on it].
Over the last 10-day or so, you have been…noticing things, strange things, in your daily lives. A misheard word now and again, strange whispers; the feeling that everyone is staring at you; waking up in the middle of the night from a dream that is always the same: decaying and rotting foliage with trees that walk, the buzzing of lies, the darkening of the earth. It always fades the same way too - with an image of an inn in Waterdeep – The Yawning Portal, according to the sign. "Come," a deep and strong voice resonates loudly in your mind, startling you from your dreams.
In your most recent travels, each of you has come across signs that point you towards the bustling town of Waterdeep, located on the Sword Coast. Random and strange encounters warning you not to go to the "city of deep water;" birds falling out of the sky to fall into an arrow shape pointing towards Waterdeep; in one case, an old beggar upon seeing you ripped her eyes out and told you that "you needed them more than she,"; and cryptic notes delivered by horse or raven asking you to meet in the famous Yawning Portal Inn. The only thing you have been given (in various ways) is a name: Adathar the Wanderer.
Map 1 - Overview
Although a bit inexperienced, you're smart enough to know that this is not normal. However, each of you has their own reasons to following the signs. Besides, each of you have felt compelled to make your way to the Inn, which you know happens to also be one of the more famous entrances into Undermountain. From what you have heard, it's also one of the fastest ways to die.
You arrive separately in Waterdeep in the early afternoon on Autumn day. You begin asking directions to the Inn and head in that direction. The city sprawls and stretches and is full of commotion, noise, and movement. Each of you think you feel the stares of the townspeople and, you think, the knowing glances, fake smiles, and the shaking heads of the old folk who knew better. Eventually, you get to the inn, just like in your dreams (or were they nightmares?) It is a large, three-story building and seems quite busy at the moment with people going to and from regularly.
You are standing at the front of the Inn. The sign waves gently in the breeze and there are a couple of patrons outside the door on the landing talking. What do you do?
[Feel free to put as much or as little detail as you like]
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
It has been a few years since Lorell has ventured into a settlement, but the with the visions of dark forests and the palpable distress present in nature Lorell has ventured to the place his dreams have led... The Yawning Portal. Avoiding the gaze of the townsfolk Lorell steps into the Inn, looking around for a person who might know of Adathar the Wanderer. Lorell walks over to the bar and sits down.
"Hello I'm not from around here, what's a mild spirit that you would suggest for a weary traveler?" Lorell asks.
Garnet ignored the signs at first after all her time on the surface has been short and her scope of the world limited to her familar mountain home. But when a bird made arrow falls from the sky you tend to question your life choices. So she chose to make her way to the storm coast.
Now she stood outside the Yawning Portal inn she had seen in her nightmares. Garnet observed at first watching people make there way inside trying to decide what the wander could look like. While she knew the name of the person she was looking for...her dreams were not exactly descriptive. Noticing a group gathered on the porch of the inn, possibly locals. Garnet decided the best thing she could do was ask. After all she was never one avoid people and if they were local they may have the information she needed. If they didn't she would at least know that the person she was ment to find was not local. Honestly someone named Adathar the Wanderer would ethier be well know and the subject of town gossip or hideing their identity and a bit more difficult to find . She straighted travel worn clothes just a bit, smoothed her hair down and tried to knock a little dirt from her boots. Satisfied Garnet walked up to the small with a friendly smile. Stand a at the bottom of the portch to not infringe on personal space. " Good afternoon, I hope I'm not interupting. I'm looking for someone I am supposed to meet here." She paused looking towards the inn. " Goes by the name Adathar the Wanderer, have you heard of them?"
Krom looks up at the sign that designates the building as the Yawning Portal and takes in the full size of it with a low whistle; not having really seen a three-story inn before. With his warhammer propped up on one shoulder he walks inside finding an empty seat at the bar. Taking a seat, he drops the warhammer with the handle of the weapon resting up against the bar within reach. Krom is a little tall for a Dwarf standing around the five foot mark and has black hair that he keeps brushed back, with the exception of a few tufts of hair that always seem to stick out randomly. His black beard is well kept with two small braids, one on either side, and ending just above his belt; with an amulet in the shape of flaming anvil that is kept in front of his beard. His tanned skin can be seen between the gaps in his chain mail armor and he speaks softly in a deep baritone voice. "I'll have some ale when you get the chance. If you have dwarven ale I'll take that, but if not just regular ale will do. Oh, and some food as well, please." Krom looks around the room after placing his order just scanning to see what kind of patrons this place serves.
Be excellent to each other, and roll for initiative dudes!
Ithelion was in the midst of planning to leave her home for the first time in many years when the strange looks began, then the signs and portents, and finally the intrusive visions that came even in the deepest meditation. Feeling that they were a warning, she was forced to drop her plans to leave, expecting that the world would slowly return to normal if she changed her path. But with time they only got worse.
It was clearly a summons rather than a warning, so she investigated what else it might mean. Her research led her to a complex – and frustrating – discussion with her master over the nature of free will and the meaning of fate. She reluctantly came to the conclusion that, if it was fate, she had no choice but to go, as it would be best to spend her resources wisely rather than resist the inevitable. Yet, if she truly had free will – something she fervantly hopes to be true – then she also had to go: these might be signs that she was being called to a greater purpose for a reason, a reason that was either benevolent or malign. If benevolent, then it was an opportunity. If malign, then perhaps another, less able, person might be called – and in both cases she asked herself: if not her, then who?
As she approaches the door to the inn, sweating slightly with the now-familiar weight of her gear, she reminds herself of the importance of free will and her hopes that this is in fact a benevolent invitation. With a deep breath she gets ready to step inside when she hears someone ask for Adethar, and stops dead in her tracks, turning around.
(Edited after I read Garnet's response properly)
Torn, and curious to hear the answer to the question, Ithelion remains near the door, looking on.
[[ OOC(?):
Rough description:
Ithelion is a little over 5'6", with silver-grey hair and a light tan, and light grey eyes. As with other elves, it is hard to guess her age, especially under all the grime from travel. She has clearly been on the road for some time and is wearing dusty travel gear, no obvious armour, but carrying a bulky pack with a bedroll beneath, and a longbow. She also has a dagger and sword at her side, though both look like they have seen little use. And there is a tired and dusty Owl sheltering under her hair on her shoulder.
]]
Daemyar enters the Yawning Portal and watches for a sign.
He’d seen many signs by now. Signs of his imminent glory, as far as he could tell. Unfortunately, that meant exploring a facet of combat his people did not and would not see: secrecy, and hiding.
Daemyar entered this tavern and this city wrapped in a cloak with a scarf covering his face, and a wide brim, low hat covering his features. Even this was not enough, likely. Still, he felt it only went to show his skill and bravery.
Beneath his long cloak, he held two daggers in his fists, ready to strike.
Paladin - warforged - orange
You enter the Yawning Portal and immediately your senses are assaulted by the smells of stale ale, sweat, and a cold, earthy feeling that the fires don't completely erase. The first floor is dominated by a large, open pit with a hoist of some sort perched over it.
BAR
The bar is back and to the left so you weave your way around tables and don't draw much attention. The barkeep is polishing glasses as Lorell walks in. He looks to be an older man - perhaps 50 summers or more? - though you can tell by his physique and movements that this is not a man to trifle with. He sports long mutton chops that meet under his nose. As you look over the bar you can see a loaded crossbow hanging on a peg. He barely looks up as you sit at the bar and grunts when you ask your question, "I'd suggest stay away from spirits altogether, leaf-lover. They're apt to give you a fright." A moment of silence goes by before he grins and sets the rag down. "Ah. Ye're a bit green, no offense intended. Well, we have a wide assortment here. If ye're not fer something strong, I can get ye some mint tea or a flavoured water - or maybe a mild wine."
The barkeep turns from Lorell to see to the dwarf. "Aye, what a surprise. Dwarven Ale it is," he says as he reaches for a mug to fill. "Miranda! Food." The barkeep's voice is steady and strong and full of command. "It'll run you 4 silvers for everything," he says to Krom as he sets the big mug of ale down in front of him.
Looking around you see a half-elf sitting at the bar, with whom the barkeep was probably just speaking with. You see some people around the lip of the giant pit in the middle of the room, it looks as though something is being prepared there but you're not really sure. You notice a few groups of people chatting and drinking, some serving girls and boys talking with cutomers. As you continue to scan around, you notice a figure enter the bar, a scarf over their face and sporting a wide brimmed hat. You shrug, just another customer. However, you feel rather than see, the ire of the barkeep behind you rising. You look back to see the barkeep staring at the newcomer, his eyes cold and hard. His jaw is clenched and his knuckles white on the bar.
[Lorell, when you're ready let the barkeep know what you want]
The three men stop talking, their eyes glued to you. Even in a place like Waterdeep, confluence of trade, culture, and peoples that it is, the presence of a genasi is somewhat rare and auspicious. These men are obviously traders and take your presence as a type of boon. One of them speaks up, "Uh, h-hello lady. I'm Trim, a trader outa Port Llast. I ain't never heard of no Adathar before but inside there be plenty of wanderers." Garnet, you notice another coming toward you and up the stairs. The elf is slight of frame and female. She slows halfway up the stairs and seems to take interest in your conversation. The elf pauses at the door as a flustered Trim looks back at his two mates, "Well!? Ain't you hearing her question?" The other two answer in the negative. They haven't heard of who you are looking for. "Well," Trim starts again, with a glance at the elf near the door. "You might be askin' Durnan. He owns this place and he's got his paws in many pies, if ye catch me meaning." Trim grins. "Pleasant day, lady." He and his friends continue to look and whisper among themselves, trying not to be so obvious about it (and failing).
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
Ithelion continues to stare at Garnet, only now realizing who asked the question, then either approaches her, or says as Garnet approaches, somewhat hestitantly, "I...I could not help but hear you ask for Adathar. I am seeking them as well."
She waits a moment then adds, still a little unsure of herself. "Ithelion. My name is Ithelion. Did I hear correctly? Perhaps...if so, we should follow their advice and go inside?"
Garnet grinned and thanked the men aware they were no longer paying attention and turned her attention to the elf who introduced herself. The elf, Ithelion looked a little timid and uncertain, although if she was looking for Adathar it was very possible Ithelion may have had a similar experiences that lead the elf to this inn. Garnet nodded "Yes you heard correct , I'm seeking Adathar." She paused and offered her left hand in greeting, a habit formed from the unusual appearance of her right arm, made of solid red crystal. Shards jutting out all the way to her shoulder giving the appearance of a spiked pauldron when she wore none. A Stark contrast to the dark grey stone color of the rest of her skin.
"My name is Amandaline Garnet, Garnet for short" she glanced toward the inn "I agree we can head inside and discuss this further." She grinned "You look like you could use a hot meal just as much as I could"
After his initial scan of the room, Krom takes a drink of his ale and sets the mug down with a satisfied sigh, "Aye, that's the stuff." Feeling like this might be an establishment where trouble can start and stop very quickly, he turns his attention to the mug before him taking small drinks until his food arrives. While he reaches with one hand into a pouch to palm a gold coin to pay with later.
Be excellent to each other, and roll for initiative dudes!
Finally managing to rally herself, at least to some extent, Ithelion smiles and takes the offered hand a little awkwardly.
"I am pleased to know that I am not alone, at least. And...yes. Let's go inside, the thought of food, and somewhere to rest is very appealing." she says, adjusting the position of her pack.
She smiles and nods, then turns and heads through the door. Once inside she steps to the side and scans the room, hoping she might glimpse someone or something that reminds her of the strange visions she has been experiencing.
@Ithelion and @garnet
You open the door to the Inn and are immediately buffeted by the smells, noise, and hoots from all sides - though your presence doesn't immediately cause anything weird to happen. Several glance at the Genasi, as is to be expected, but other than that most of the attention is focused on the center of the room where a big pit opens up - you might even say it "yawns" - taking up much of the first floor's common area. Someone has begun a chant, though you're not really sure what it means. Not really understanding what is happening, you notice a young man and woman - a swordsman and a spellcaster, by the looks of them - each step into a loop on a rope that is tied to some machine that extends over the pit. The chanting stops as a muscular man makes his way through the crowd. You hear whispers and connect the dots: this must be Durnan, the owner of the Inn. Durnan steps up onto a small stool to get as close to eye level as he can to the would-be adventurers. Grunting, he says, "Ye want this lad? Lass?" Looking to both, you think you see a bit of sadness in his eyes, even from this distance. It is gone in a flash however. "Aye, and may you all be green with envy when we come back!" The swordsman is confident, the magic-user is hard to read.
Sighing, Durnan continues, "Aye then. Ye know the rules, aye? 1 gold from each of ye on the way down. It's the same on the way up, don't forget."
The swordsman flips both coins to Durnan. "And there'll be more than that when we come back! Haha!"
Durnan turns to the boy working the hoist and nods. He watches as they slowly descend into the darkness. He shakes his head and walks back to his bar.
The crowd however, mills about the lip of the opening. You look up and around at the second and third floor balconies and they also have people watching. You hear bets being made. It seems many have little to no confidence in the pair that went into the hole. Looking around, you see a couple figures at the bar, and some single patrons scattered here and there.
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
Ithelion raises her eyebrows and glances at Garnet, then heads towards the bar, keeping her eyes on Durnan. When she gets there, she tries to find a seat, then turns to Durnan, smiling, "A brandy, if I may...Elvish if you have it...it's been a long day. And...perhaps...what food do you have at this time of day?"
Assuming prestidigitation does not just dump dirt in the floor, she starts absent-mindedly cleaning her clothes when she is othwerwise uncoccupied.
The pointy tip of a crossbow bolt under her chin causes the High Elf to immediately freeze. The slight lifting of the crossbow under her chin forces her eyes to raise......slowly. The arcane sounds and gestures she was just doing cease, as does much of the noise in the room. The sound of swords unbuckling can be heard. "Aye, aye, that's a good lass, easy now." Durnan's voice is gravelly and level as he looks into her eyes, his own brown eyes cold and unflinching. "There be no magic in this place, unless ye be askin' me. Understand? We cannot have spellcasters flinging spells so close to Undermountain," he says, gesturing at the hole, "It tends to....attract thing," he finishes.
"Now," he pipes up, "We have soup, and the Waterdhavian Platter, which is a mixture of food. Aye, it's what the good dwarf there is chowing down." Durnan nods to the Dwarf and returns his crossbow to its peg on the wall. The mood in the room shifts, once again turning more jovial. Onlookers hoping for a bloodier conclusion are disappointed and go back to what they were doing before. "Hmmm, Elvish brandy, eh? Lemme look...no, I don't have that but ah, yes. Here is some Lindlewell Brandy. It's Gnomish but will light the fire in yer belly. That's 6 silver altogether. Miranda! One more."
"An' what about you?" Durnan asks the Genasi.
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
Lorell sheepishly replies to the barkeep "A mint tea would be fantastic, it would be a welcome feeling from such a long time traveling". Lorell notices the dwarf to his left, but his lack of meaningful human interaction in past few years makes him feel too awkward stare in the Dwarf's direction. All the sounds and smells had created a sensory overload for Lorell and after a quiet moment of reflection in his own head (Remember what you came here for, you don't have to be so nervous), Lorell looks at the barkeep again and asks in a whispered hush "Pray tell, do you know of a man called Adathar the Wanderer. I have had visions and signs pointing me to that man, who might possibly be in this very inn".
"Ah! An excellent choice, one of me favourites! It's 3 coppers an' Miranda here'll get you fixed right up lad."
At the mention of Adathar, Durnan stiffens - almost imperceptibly so. He turns around and reaches under the bar. Sighing, he asks, "What's ye name, lad?" [I'll assume Lorell tells him]. "Aye, here you are." Durnan hands him a note (unopened as far as you can tell). As he hold it out and Lorell reaches for it, Durnan leans in real close. "There'll be no breaking things, stealing things, or flinging spells about in my tavern. Got it? Good."
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
Garnet watched the exchange between the barkeep and the group hanging above the portal looking around at the other patrons. Seeing what looked like a solem affair disguised as entertainment, made her a little uncomfortable. The Yawning Portal made sense now at least. When the crossbow came up Garnet's muscles tensed her hand flying to her sword, but she stopped there. The man behind the counter looked stern but not threatening. She sent a wary look at the portal it gave her an in easy feeling like death lurked beneath and understood the reason for the man's reaction. Shaking herself from the distraction she tuned into what he saying.
"Lindewell for me" Garnet paused looking over at what the dwarf as eating, she grinned and took a seat losing her melancholy at the prospect of a good meal."And definitely that." Soup could be had on the road, inn's are for real food.
Lorell thinks to himself, who would use magic so close to that gaping maw? Slightly turning his head to look at the pit in the center of the room.
"Thank you" Lorell says reaching out his hand cautiously to take the letter.
Lorell examines the letter and slowly opens it and reads the parchment, eyes tracing the words, and with a single nod, he knew he would know why he was brought to this in.
Lorell puts the letter back onto the table and slides it in the direction of Durnan, "When would it be appropriate to pay for the tea?" Lorell asks as the letter hangs slightly off the bar counter facing Durnan. "Also," Lorell asks inquisitively to Durnan "what time is it?"
Daemyar approaches the portal to look inside and see if his sign is inside.
Paladin - warforged - orange
While she waits for he food to arrive, Ithelion ponders what kind of being would build an Inn on top of something so dangerous that even the most trivial of magic represents a threat. She watches him for a time before deciding that she may never fully understand humans, though suspects it's a convenient lie to prevent an already unruly crowd from becoming unmanageable. At least she hopes so.
When the food arrives she says, "I am seeking someone called Adathar the Wanderer. Do you know if they might be here?"