Welcome to Waterdeep, the City of Splenders! It's Winter season and Waterdavian winters are harsh. As snow piles up around the city and ice fills the harbor, trade grinds to a halt and the city seals its gates. Citizens willing to brave the cold still gather in local taverns and festhalls, but few venture outside the city walls.
This campaign will feature the following characters & players:
The party is destined to meet at a tavern in the Castle Ward known as The Yawning Portal. The place is a stone building with a slate roof and several chimneys. Most of the ground floor is taken up by the tavern’s common room, which contains a 40-foot-diameter open well (actually the outer shell of a sunken stone tower) that descends 140 feet to the first level of Undermountain, the sprawling dungeon under Waterdeep. A rope-and-pulley mechanism is used to lower adventurers into the well and hoist them out. The upper floors of the Yawning Portal contain comfortable, nicely appointed rooms for guests.
Disclaimer: Don't take this image too seriously. This image just depicts the characters in the entire campaign; most of which may never step foot in The Yawning Portal.
It's a special evening at the Yawning Portal. The noisy taproom seems even more full than usual and patrons are brimming with excitement. A small crowd of well-wishers have gathered around the party of heroes who've chosen this night to brave the tavern's namesake. The small band of would-be-heroes are carefully checking and securing their equipment, mundane and magical alike. As they begin their descent into the large hole in the middle of the tavern, the taproom fills with loud cheers and excited huzzahs. Behind the bar, Durnan, the grizzled proprietor of the Yawning Portal, shakes his head and smirks under his mustache.
I've roughly depicted where your characters may be within the tavern. I've also included the friendly faces that I provided on Discord. Now you may introduce your characters.
It was cold as hell but for these occasions Mardak would brave any weather condition thrown at him. As he stepped into the Yawning Portal, while shaking off the snow of the boots and his robes he noticed the common room was filling up already. His brown beard and hairs were fuzzy because of the mixture of cold and snow, it made him look rough although the people that knew him knew otherwise.
Mardak nodded to Durnan in acknowledgment and greeted Jalester before he proceeded to an empty table to sit down. Bonnie came over and brought some ale and they chitchatted for a moment.
Mardak came here every time adventurers got ready to descend in to the well and Jalester was usually the one who informed Mardak ahead of time. Somehow he had a knack for knowing a lot of stuff happening in the city and that came in handy a lot of times.
The chilly weather doesn't seem to bother Krivnaar, a pale-white dragonborn with a fine button-down suit and crystalline monocle. He carries with him a pack of papers and documents, giving the appearance of a functionary, but he looks well at ease among the diverse and energetic clientele here. He ignores the heroes descending into the portal, and instead focuses on more important matters at hand - finding new clients.
He approaches Jalester directly, the man having been a reliable reference for suitable cases in the past. "Cheers, Jalester!" he speaks with a sooth voice and cracks a smile, to the extent that a dragonborn's scaly face can smile. "Appreciate the lead on that Calimshan conundrum. Magistrate dismissed the case the other night. Cited a mysterious lack of evidence." He gives a wink. "You hear of any folks lately need had some run-ins with the law?"
Jalester, whom was sitting on the far end of the bar counter alone. Drowning his sorrows with ale, a hint of disdain in his eyes vanish as Krivnaar approaches him. With a warm smile, Jalester straight's his postures and sets his flagon down. "Good afternoon, Krivnaar. Glad to see the weather hasn't gotten you down." he says jokingly, knowing that white dragonborn are at home during the winter. Jalester doesn't respond to the bit about the case and just nods his head.
"It's raucous in here today, nothing unusual. Some eager adventurers descending into the Undermountain to meet their maker. Other than that, nothing to worry about. I always have my eyes peeled." He says, as he has a tendency not to maintain eye contact with Krivnaar and stares blankly into the ale. "Perhaps you should take a load off, have a drink, talk to some folks, make new friends. Never know who you may run into."
Rashar, a lithe half-elf with bronze hair, is bundled down in an assortment of coats, scarves, and hats. His iron-straight posture and bearing reveals his military roots, though that seems to be fading away with every ale he drinks. His laughter fills the rooms as he speaks with his companions at the table.
"I've seen some of you around the taverns before, right? Great, cause tonight I've got a special story to tell you." He looks over at Yagra Stonefist, who sits alone at the other table.
"Yagra, you may want to hear this one! Alright, back when I was part of the Griffon Cavalry, we would have parades back and forth down the streets." Rashar's eyes grow dreamy as he remembers a fond memory. "Our Griffons would fly above and do all sorts of tricks while we where cheered on by the people on the ground. However, in one parade I spotted a particular nobleman that I quite disliked. So, I rode my Griffon above his head..."
Cath stepped into the Yawning Portal. He shook his head and let the water fall from the snow that had piled on him. Looking around the room he spotted a few familiar faces and made his way through the crowd to join them at their table. As he approached he nods to Threestrings. Cath was glad to see he was still running this gig at the Yawning Portal, having seen him tossed out of worse taverns full of patrons that didn't care for better music and just wanted the same drinking songs every night.
Cath sits at the table with the others. "Rashar, Mardak, Krivnaar." He nods. "Nice night to be out. I heard some group were headed down today, came to watch em. Always fun to watch some errant fools take their chances, more than likely throw their lives away." he scowls. He strokes his beard, dark red, but the streak of white seems to be getting bigger. More white can be seen on the sides and top among the red hair. But a gleam comes in his eye as he watches the group head down the portal. Despite his gruff talk, you feel certain Cath would join them if given the chance.
Cath orders a tall dark ale and listens to Rashar tell his tale. Riding a griffon did not sound interesting to him but he listened none the less. Annoying some nobleman was certainly good sport in his book.
Morgan strode into the Yawning Portal. His thick leather surcoat sluffed off the snow without concern and his gray eyes studied the room with a quick glance. He saw many faces he recognized, and nodded to several of them as he passed. As second in line to the most powerful house in the city, he received nods of greetings in return, and offers to have a drink with many of the place's current patrons. Waving most of these off he made his way to his normal place and took a seat, pushing back the hood of his surcoat from over his black hair.
Morgan ordered a drink from Bonnie as she arrived at his table, then sat back to see what happened. He watched the adventurers descend, and wondered which would make it back out this time, if any.
Krivnaar takes Jalestar's advice and lounges over to some of the other patrons. He passes by Morgan, and gives a knowing nod. "Good to see you about and free. Hope you have a pleasant and peaceful evening. But, if not - well, you know where to find me!" He gives a chuckle, then joins the table with Rashar, Kath and the others.
"Hope you showed that noble what-for!" he says to Rashar with a flicker in his eyes. It always was amusing to see those toffers brought down a peg, he thought, as he unironically adjusted his monocle.
Rashar smiles as Morgan and Cath walks into the tavern, the audience for his story growing. He greets both of them before continuing.
"You see, this particular noble was making a habit of mocking us soldiers, and petitioning to reduce our pay. But that day, he crossed the line. He was wearing this outrageous wide-brimmed hat made with the feathers of dead griffins! So, I called my steed to dive down on that accursed fool, and with a single fell swoop of it's beak it swiped that hat off his head! The crowd screamed in delight as I took that hat and deftly tossed it in a nearby wastebasket."
The half-elf pauses and bursts out laughing, while he uses his hands to imitate a diving griffin. He then speaks contently.
"From then on, the nobleman was sure to never insult the Griffon Cavalry. Ah, those were the good days. My friends, do you have any stories of your own to tell?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DMing:
Solo Hoard of the Dragon Queen
Playing:
Baral-Coliseum of Conquest, Lazarus Vernon- Tale of Mercenaries;Bernard Lionsbane- Solo Curse of Strahd
"Ah, he's lucky you didn't take his head clean off!" scoffs Krivnaar, before rubbing his pointed chin. "Hmm, stories eh? Well! I did handle a most unusual case the other week. A good-hearted dwarven laborer, works as a coolie on the docks. Never missed a day of work in his life! One day, those thugs in the city watch come to his house, drag him off right in front of his wife and younglings! Claiming he'd been implicated in a string of muggings, going back YEARS. Like he was some criminal mastermind. The family calls me in, and naturally I make inquiries. Strangest thing - a bevy of witnesses to the crimes describe him down to the hairs on his nose. But his employers and co-workers swear he was hard at work at the exact times of the crimes. Well, I investigate, and in a moment of inspiration, check the family histories. Turns out this fellow had a long-lost identical twin! Who'd been posing as the fellow for his criminal enterprises, as backup to avoid the law in just such an occasion. The case is dismissed, of course, and the fellow is back with his family, happy to say. They never caught the real culprit though..." He gives a shrug, indicating this bothered him not at all.
Jarret can be seen in the middle of what seems to be a very intense game of cards with some of the patrons. Once he notices the rest of group settling in, he excuses himself, waving, as he walks over. Despite his poor living conditions, Jarret seems to pride himself on a presentable outfit, and a jovial attitude. With short tousled black hair, and light blue-grey eyes, he does not have an easily forgotten face. “How are we doing tonight, friends,” he says with a smile.
Bonnie warmly smiles to Morgan as she serves him. "We'll be sure to put it on your tab." Knowing that the Amcathra accountant's would pay the tab so that Morgan doesn't need to pay out of pocket. Everyone respects nobility so Morgan is quite welcomed. Durnan doesn't seem to be bothered, he's has had fair share of encounters with nobles.
Yagra would eavesdrop on Rashar's story of his time during the Griffon Cavalry and scoffs. "Sounds like a bunch of rubbish to me. No way did that actually happen." She confidentally calls out from her table. Before she has a chance to say another word, a group of five human men approach Yagra's table. One of which is is bald with eye-shaped tattoos across his scalp. They have a inaudible verbal exchange, which seems to lead to them engaging into a arm wrestling contest.
Morgan frowns over at Yagra as she calls out and then angles his head a bit in confusion. Seeing the man with the eye tattoos engaging in an arm wrestling contest with Yagra he hopes the man doesn't get a broken arm. Morgan sips his ale as he watches the contest though, his own massive bicep rippling with muscle with the simple movement. Even sitting he is easily one of the largest non-goliaths in the place, his body powerfully built.
Mardak cracked a laugh at Rashar’s story and leaned back in his chair and sipped his ale. “I don’t think i have very interesting stories to share just yet... unless you find Eaerlanni Elves and there magical teachings to the Netherese interesting? I just scribed a few chapters about that today”.
Mardak turned his head at Jarret as he sat down “I am doing fine thank you, you yourself?” Mardak his attention drifts off to the small group starting an arm wrestling match and especially the person with eyes tattooed on his scalp.
-OOC- I try to identify the eye tattoos if they have historical/religious background/importance to it.
Mardak is able to discern that these hooligans engaging with Yagra are thugs within the Xanathar's Guild. Which everyone is familiar with the eye tyrant known as Xanathar, a beholder that lurks in the shadows of Waterdeep.
Yagra's physical prowess doesn't waiver in this arm wrestling match, and she ultimately succeeds in slamming the man's hand into the table with a thunderous thud. The other four men watching begin to make insulting remarks and the bald man with the Xanathar tattoos says some things under his breath that the party can't discern as their voices are drowned by the noise from the rest of the tavern.
All of sudden, the noise is eclipsed as Yagra abruptly springs from her chair and slams her fists onto the table after a few moments of verbal abuse. “Ya pig! Like killin’ me mates, does ya?” Yagra shouts at the bald man. This leads to the seven-foot tall Half-Orc getting drilled in the face with a punch from the bald man. Yagra stumbles back, and the tavern comes to a quiet halt as this occurs. The four men behind the bald man stand along side him.
"You've got this, Krentz!" one of the men say, as the bald man raises his arms up, gritting his teeth ready for the brawl with the half-orc mercenary. The half-orc cracks her knuckles, roars, and leaps at the tattooed figure — but before you can see if blood is drawn, a crowd of spectators clusters around the brawl. What do you do?
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The night was going strong as Rashar finished his story and listened to his companions. As he listens to Krivnaar talk about the poor dwarf laborer, Rashar frowns and his face turns somber. “That’s a sorry thing to hear. It seems the only people who receive justice in this city are the ones who have coin to spare. I’m glad you were able to step in and save an innocent man.”
All of sudden, Yagra was struck in the face by the tattooed man. Rashar immediately rises to her aid. “Five on one? You thugs have no honor!”he yells. Yagra could be a bit stubborn sometimes, especially regarding his stories, but he’s fought alongside her as a mercenary and she has earned his respect. However, Rashar senses that this fight may turn lethal. He silently draws a dagger and conceals it in the palm of his hand.
Seeing the odds against Yagra, Morgan too gets up. He nods to Rashar as the other man joins him, and moves to start pushing a way through the onlookers. His six-foot-eight-inch frame, built like a goliath, was usually enough to get through crowds like this. Anyone who did not get out of his way was not-so-gently moved aside, and given the cool glare of a noble if they objected.
Cath looks over at Bonnie and Durnan to see their reaction to the fight. If they don't seem concerned then Cath sits back and watches, taking another drink of ale.
"Not my bar, not my fight." You can hear him grumble.
Welcome to Waterdeep, the City of Splenders! It's Winter season and Waterdavian winters are harsh. As snow piles up around the city and ice fills the harbor, trade grinds to a halt and the city seals its gates. Citizens willing to brave the cold still gather in local taverns and festhalls, but few venture outside the city walls.
This campaign will feature the following characters & players:
The party is destined to meet at a tavern in the Castle Ward known as The Yawning Portal. The place is a stone building with a slate roof and several chimneys. Most of the ground floor is taken up by the tavern’s common room, which contains a 40-foot-diameter open well (actually the outer shell of a sunken stone tower) that descends 140 feet to the first level of Undermountain, the sprawling dungeon under Waterdeep. A rope-and-pulley mechanism is used to lower adventurers into the well and hoist them out. The upper floors of the Yawning Portal contain comfortable, nicely appointed rooms for guests.
Disclaimer: Don't take this image too seriously. This image just depicts the characters in the entire campaign; most of which may never step foot in The Yawning Portal.
It's a special evening at the Yawning Portal. The noisy taproom seems even more full than usual and patrons are brimming with excitement. A small crowd of well-wishers have gathered around the party of heroes who've chosen this night to brave the tavern's namesake. The small band of would-be-heroes are carefully checking and securing their equipment, mundane and magical alike. As they begin their descent into the large hole in the middle of the tavern, the taproom fills with loud cheers and excited huzzahs. Behind the bar, Durnan, the grizzled proprietor of the Yawning Portal, shakes his head and smirks under his mustache.
Legend:
J: Jarett
C: Cath
K: Krivnaar
R: Rashar
Mo: Morgan
Ma: Mardak
B: Bonnie
D: Durnan
M: Meloon
J: Jalester
T: Threestrings
O: Obaya
Y: Yagra
I've roughly depicted where your characters may be within the tavern. I've also included the friendly faces that I provided on Discord. Now you may introduce your characters.
DM: Waterdeep: Dragon Heist
It was cold as hell but for these occasions Mardak would brave any weather condition thrown at him. As he stepped into the Yawning Portal, while shaking off the snow of the boots and his robes he noticed the common room was filling up already. His brown beard and hairs were fuzzy because of the mixture of cold and snow, it made him look rough although the people that knew him knew otherwise.
Mardak nodded to Durnan in acknowledgment and greeted Jalester before he proceeded to an empty table to sit down. Bonnie came over and brought some ale and they chitchatted for a moment.
Mardak came here every time adventurers got ready to descend in to the well and Jalester was usually the one who informed Mardak ahead of time. Somehow he had a knack for knowing a lot of stuff happening in the city and that came in handy a lot of times.
The chilly weather doesn't seem to bother Krivnaar, a pale-white dragonborn with a fine button-down suit and crystalline monocle. He carries with him a pack of papers and documents, giving the appearance of a functionary, but he looks well at ease among the diverse and energetic clientele here. He ignores the heroes descending into the portal, and instead focuses on more important matters at hand - finding new clients.
He approaches Jalester directly, the man having been a reliable reference for suitable cases in the past. "Cheers, Jalester!" he speaks with a sooth voice and cracks a smile, to the extent that a dragonborn's scaly face can smile. "Appreciate the lead on that Calimshan conundrum. Magistrate dismissed the case the other night. Cited a mysterious lack of evidence." He gives a wink. "You hear of any folks lately need had some run-ins with the law?"
Jalester, whom was sitting on the far end of the bar counter alone. Drowning his sorrows with ale, a hint of disdain in his eyes vanish as Krivnaar approaches him. With a warm smile, Jalester straight's his postures and sets his flagon down. "Good afternoon, Krivnaar. Glad to see the weather hasn't gotten you down." he says jokingly, knowing that white dragonborn are at home during the winter. Jalester doesn't respond to the bit about the case and just nods his head.
"It's raucous in here today, nothing unusual. Some eager adventurers descending into the Undermountain to meet their maker. Other than that, nothing to worry about. I always have my eyes peeled." He says, as he has a tendency not to maintain eye contact with Krivnaar and stares blankly into the ale. "Perhaps you should take a load off, have a drink, talk to some folks, make new friends. Never know who you may run into."
DM: Waterdeep: Dragon Heist
Rashar, a lithe half-elf with bronze hair, is bundled down in an assortment of coats, scarves, and hats. His iron-straight posture and bearing reveals his military roots, though that seems to be fading away with every ale he drinks. His laughter fills the rooms as he speaks with his companions at the table.
"I've seen some of you around the taverns before, right? Great, cause tonight I've got a special story to tell you." He looks over at Yagra Stonefist, who sits alone at the other table.
"Yagra, you may want to hear this one! Alright, back when I was part of the Griffon Cavalry, we would have parades back and forth down the streets." Rashar's eyes grow dreamy as he remembers a fond memory. "Our Griffons would fly above and do all sorts of tricks while we where cheered on by the people on the ground. However, in one parade I spotted a particular nobleman that I quite disliked. So, I rode my Griffon above his head..."
DMing:
Solo Hoard of the Dragon Queen
Playing:
Baral- Coliseum of Conquest, Lazarus Vernon- Tale of Mercenaries; Bernard Lionsbane- Solo Curse of Strahd
Cath stepped into the Yawning Portal. He shook his head and let the water fall from the snow that had piled on him. Looking around the room he spotted a few familiar faces and made his way through the crowd to join them at their table. As he approached he nods to Threestrings. Cath was glad to see he was still running this gig at the Yawning Portal, having seen him tossed out of worse taverns full of patrons that didn't care for better music and just wanted the same drinking songs every night.
Cath sits at the table with the others. "Rashar, Mardak, Krivnaar." He nods. "Nice night to be out. I heard some group were headed down today, came to watch em. Always fun to watch some errant fools take their chances, more than likely throw their lives away." he scowls. He strokes his beard, dark red, but the streak of white seems to be getting bigger. More white can be seen on the sides and top among the red hair. But a gleam comes in his eye as he watches the group head down the portal. Despite his gruff talk, you feel certain Cath would join them if given the chance.
Cath orders a tall dark ale and listens to Rashar tell his tale. Riding a griffon did not sound interesting to him but he listened none the less. Annoying some nobleman was certainly good sport in his book.
Morgan strode into the Yawning Portal. His thick leather surcoat sluffed off the snow without concern and his gray eyes studied the room with a quick glance. He saw many faces he recognized, and nodded to several of them as he passed. As second in line to the most powerful house in the city, he received nods of greetings in return, and offers to have a drink with many of the place's current patrons. Waving most of these off he made his way to his normal place and took a seat, pushing back the hood of his surcoat from over his black hair.
Morgan ordered a drink from Bonnie as she arrived at his table, then sat back to see what happened. He watched the adventurers descend, and wondered which would make it back out this time, if any.
Krivnaar takes Jalestar's advice and lounges over to some of the other patrons. He passes by Morgan, and gives a knowing nod. "Good to see you about and free. Hope you have a pleasant and peaceful evening. But, if not - well, you know where to find me!" He gives a chuckle, then joins the table with Rashar, Kath and the others.
"Hope you showed that noble what-for!" he says to Rashar with a flicker in his eyes. It always was amusing to see those toffers brought down a peg, he thought, as he unironically adjusted his monocle.
Rashar smiles as Morgan and Cath walks into the tavern, the audience for his story growing. He greets both of them before continuing.
"You see, this particular noble was making a habit of mocking us soldiers, and petitioning to reduce our pay. But that day, he crossed the line. He was wearing this outrageous wide-brimmed hat made with the feathers of dead griffins! So, I called my steed to dive down on that accursed fool, and with a single fell swoop of it's beak it swiped that hat off his head! The crowd screamed in delight as I took that hat and deftly tossed it in a nearby wastebasket."
The half-elf pauses and bursts out laughing, while he uses his hands to imitate a diving griffin. He then speaks contently.
"From then on, the nobleman was sure to never insult the Griffon Cavalry. Ah, those were the good days. My friends, do you have any stories of your own to tell?"
DMing:
Solo Hoard of the Dragon Queen
Playing:
Baral- Coliseum of Conquest, Lazarus Vernon- Tale of Mercenaries; Bernard Lionsbane- Solo Curse of Strahd
"Ah, he's lucky you didn't take his head clean off!" scoffs Krivnaar, before rubbing his pointed chin. "Hmm, stories eh? Well! I did handle a most unusual case the other week. A good-hearted dwarven laborer, works as a coolie on the docks. Never missed a day of work in his life! One day, those thugs in the city watch come to his house, drag him off right in front of his wife and younglings! Claiming he'd been implicated in a string of muggings, going back YEARS. Like he was some criminal mastermind. The family calls me in, and naturally I make inquiries. Strangest thing - a bevy of witnesses to the crimes describe him down to the hairs on his nose. But his employers and co-workers swear he was hard at work at the exact times of the crimes. Well, I investigate, and in a moment of inspiration, check the family histories. Turns out this fellow had a long-lost identical twin! Who'd been posing as the fellow for his criminal enterprises, as backup to avoid the law in just such an occasion. The case is dismissed, of course, and the fellow is back with his family, happy to say. They never caught the real culprit though..." He gives a shrug, indicating this bothered him not at all.
Jarret can be seen in the middle of what seems to be a very intense game of cards with some of the patrons. Once he notices the rest of group settling in, he excuses himself, waving, as he walks over. Despite his poor living conditions, Jarret seems to pride himself on a presentable outfit, and a jovial attitude. With short tousled black hair, and light blue-grey eyes, he does not have an easily forgotten face. “How are we doing tonight, friends,” he says with a smile.
Alton Thorngage- (Klein’s One Shot String Adventure)
Holden Stonefist-(A Tale of Mercenaries)
Fenrick Wolfsbane- (Icewind Dale: Rime of the Frostmaiden)
DMing-Ctleath13’s Lost Mines of Phandelver and Ctleath13’s Out of the Abyss
Bonnie warmly smiles to Morgan as she serves him. "We'll be sure to put it on your tab." Knowing that the Amcathra accountant's would pay the tab so that Morgan doesn't need to pay out of pocket. Everyone respects nobility so Morgan is quite welcomed. Durnan doesn't seem to be bothered, he's has had fair share of encounters with nobles.
Yagra would eavesdrop on Rashar's story of his time during the Griffon Cavalry and scoffs. "Sounds like a bunch of rubbish to me. No way did that actually happen." She confidentally calls out from her table. Before she has a chance to say another word, a group of five human men approach Yagra's table. One of which is is bald with eye-shaped tattoos across his scalp. They have a inaudible verbal exchange, which seems to lead to them engaging into a arm wrestling contest.
DM: Waterdeep: Dragon Heist
Morgan frowns over at Yagra as she calls out and then angles his head a bit in confusion. Seeing the man with the eye tattoos engaging in an arm wrestling contest with Yagra he hopes the man doesn't get a broken arm. Morgan sips his ale as he watches the contest though, his own massive bicep rippling with muscle with the simple movement. Even sitting he is easily one of the largest non-goliaths in the place, his body powerfully built.
"I've got a 3 gold pieces on the half-orc if anyone thinks the human can best her."
Cath remarks, looking around at those sitting at his table.
Mardak cracked a laugh at Rashar’s story and leaned back in his chair and sipped his ale. “I don’t think i have very interesting stories to share just yet... unless you find Eaerlanni Elves and there magical teachings to the Netherese interesting? I just scribed a few chapters about that today”.
Mardak turned his head at Jarret as he sat down “I am doing fine thank you, you yourself?” Mardak his attention drifts off to the small group starting an arm wrestling match and especially the person with eyes tattooed on his scalp.
-OOC-
I try to identify the eye tattoos if they have historical/religious background/importance to it.
Religion17
History12
Mardak is able to discern that these hooligans engaging with Yagra are thugs within the Xanathar's Guild. Which everyone is familiar with the eye tyrant known as Xanathar, a beholder that lurks in the shadows of Waterdeep.
Yagra's physical prowess doesn't waiver in this arm wrestling match, and she ultimately succeeds in slamming the man's hand into the table with a thunderous thud. The other four men watching begin to make insulting remarks and the bald man with the Xanathar tattoos says some things under his breath that the party can't discern as their voices are drowned by the noise from the rest of the tavern.
All of sudden, the noise is eclipsed as Yagra abruptly springs from her chair and slams her fists onto the table after a few moments of verbal abuse. “Ya pig! Like killin’ me mates, does ya?” Yagra shouts at the bald man. This leads to the seven-foot tall Half-Orc getting drilled in the face with a punch from the bald man. Yagra stumbles back, and the tavern comes to a quiet halt as this occurs. The four men behind the bald man stand along side him.
"You've got this, Krentz!" one of the men say, as the bald man raises his arms up, gritting his teeth ready for the brawl with the half-orc mercenary. The half-orc cracks her knuckles, roars, and leaps at the tattooed figure — but before you can see if blood is drawn, a crowd of spectators clusters around the brawl. What do you do?
DM: Waterdeep: Dragon Heist
The night was going strong as Rashar finished his story and listened to his companions. As he listens to Krivnaar talk about the poor dwarf laborer, Rashar frowns and his face turns somber. “That’s a sorry thing to hear. It seems the only people who receive justice in this city are the ones who have coin to spare. I’m glad you were able to step in and save an innocent man.”
All of sudden, Yagra was struck in the face by the tattooed man. Rashar immediately rises to her aid. “Five on one? You thugs have no honor!”he yells. Yagra could be a bit stubborn sometimes, especially regarding his stories, but he’s fought alongside her as a mercenary and she has earned his respect. However, Rashar senses that this fight may turn lethal. He silently draws a dagger and conceals it in the palm of his hand.
Sleight of Hand: 6
DMing:
Solo Hoard of the Dragon Queen
Playing:
Baral- Coliseum of Conquest, Lazarus Vernon- Tale of Mercenaries; Bernard Lionsbane- Solo Curse of Strahd
Seeing the odds against Yagra, Morgan too gets up. He nods to Rashar as the other man joins him, and moves to start pushing a way through the onlookers. His six-foot-eight-inch frame, built like a goliath, was usually enough to get through crowds like this. Anyone who did not get out of his way was not-so-gently moved aside, and given the cool glare of a noble if they objected.
“Well this should be interesting,” Jarrett murmurs under his breath. “Never seen her go up against 5.”
Alton Thorngage- (Klein’s One Shot String Adventure)
Holden Stonefist-(A Tale of Mercenaries)
Fenrick Wolfsbane- (Icewind Dale: Rime of the Frostmaiden)
DMing-Ctleath13’s Lost Mines of Phandelver and Ctleath13’s Out of the Abyss
Cath looks over at Bonnie and Durnan to see their reaction to the fight. If they don't seem concerned then Cath sits back and watches, taking another drink of ale.
"Not my bar, not my fight." You can hear him grumble.