The Yawning Portal. You've grown up on the fantastic tales of adventure that all seem to center on this marvelous place. It's the veritable center of the universe for adventurers, seekers and lore finders.
Amid the bustle of Waterdeep, within the Castle Ward where barristers, nobles, and emissaries battle with word and contract, stands an inn not quite like any other. Before there was a Castle Ward or even what could be recognized as an ancestor of the City of Splendors, there was a dungeon, and in that dungeon begins the tale of the Yawning Portal.
In ages past, the mighty wizard Halaster built his tower at the foot of Mount Waterdeep and delved deep into tunnels first built by dwarves and drow in search of ever greater magical power. Halaster and his apprentices expanded the tunnels they found, worming out new lairs under the surface for reasons of their own. In time, their excavations grew into the vast labyrinth known today as Undermountain, the largest dungeon in all of the Forgotten Realms. Halaster eventually disappeared, as have all his apprentices, but the massive complex he built remains to this day.
For untold years, the secrets of Undermountain remained hidden from the surface world. Everyone who entered its halls failed to return. Its reputation as a death trap grew to the point that criminals in Waterdeep who were sentenced to die were forcibly escorted into the dungeon and left to fend for themselves.
All of that changed with the arrival of two men, a warrior named Durnan and a ne’er-do-well named Mirt. The duo were the first adventurers to return from Undermountain, laden with riches and magic treasures. While Mirt used his wealth to buy a mansion, Durnan had different plans. Durnan retired from adventuring and purchased the land on which sat the deep, broad well that was the only known entrance to the dungeon. Around this well he built a tavern and inn that caters to adventurers and those who seek their services, and he called it the Yawning Portal.
The taproom fills the entire first floor of the building and is dominated by a 40-foot-diameter well. As you step through the door, the Well is all you can see. It's huge. Bigger than you imagined. And the darkness from the dungeons below seems to suck all the light in the room towards it, as if it has a gravity all its own. Hanging over the well is a cage-like contraption hooked to a complicated pulley system for lowering would-be adventurers down into the darkness below. You know from the stories that rides down are free, but the ride up costs a gold piece. Per person. No exceptions and no charity.
On quiet nights, guests in the Yawning Portal gather around a large fireplace in the taproom and swap tales of distant places, strange monsters, and valuable treasures. On busier nights, the place is loud and crowded. This is one of those busy nights.
The balconies overflow tonight with well-dressed merchants and high-born nobles, while the tables on the ground floor are filled with a rougher sort. Adventurers of every description can be seen conspiring, carousing, or commiserating with their comrades and colleagues. The Yawning Portal attracts a certain sort, weapons of every description can be seen slung across chairs, piled on the tables and strapped at the sides of the more cautious.
An ageless man leans on the bar against the far wall, slowly wiping it down with a clean white rag. A full staff of barkeeps and waitstaff buzz around him, bringing drinks and food to the dozens of patrons in the Tavern tonight. He occasionally touches one of them on the shoulder or elbow as they pass and whispers in their ear, but otherwise makes no move to engage with any of the patrons. He looks out over his busy Inn with an impassive expression, whether he's bored or simply content isn't clear to those who don't know the enigmatic proprietor.
Near the entrance, a small gnome perches precariously on a stool, fiddling with a small box in his left hand. His right hand is encased in a black gauntlet of some indeterminate type of dense metal - the effect all the stranger because it's the only bit of arms or armor at all on the small figure. His eyes are alight with joy as he fiddles with the strange contraption in his hand, seemingly lost to the rest of the world around him.
On the far side of the room stands a large goliath, pale skin shining in the lantern light. Powerfully built, she drinks from a massive horn, ale sloshing down her face and soaking the expensive tunic she wears. The horn never seems to run empty as much as she drinks, whether that's due to magic or attentive staff is hard to tell.
Right up near the edge of the Portal itself, you see a large table, empty at the moment but sure to fill up quickly on a night like tonight.
Drop in and describe your character. To keep things moving, assume that you all wind up at the same table, waitstaff will see you and attend to you quickly and courteously, but won't answer your questions directly - they'd simply simile and dance off through the crowd if pressed to much.
A hooded and cloaked figure enters and goes to the bar. Leaning in and talking to the bartender softly he orders a drink then moves and sits at the table and sits where he can watch the door. The black hood with silver trim stays up at the moment. He is just sipping and watching the door
Entering a few moments after the black hooded figure reaches the table a stocky dwarf in a mercenary outfit enters, scans the room and quickly moves to the table to join them. “Figures you would get here first.” They say as they sit down.
A clean shaven dwarf saunters into the bar. He is outfitted in gleaming plate armor. It is clear upon closer inspection that it is old and battered but it has been cared for. He loudly orders a drink and then slams himself down at the table with the other adventurers. "The name's Hoghead Giantsbane." He bellows, taking a long swig of ale. "Either of you ever been down there?"
Almost absently "I cant say that i have" looking the two dwarves over. "My name is Zerxius" looking them over again. "Hoghead....charming, and you are....?)
“Ah yes, Drax is my name. Drax Schrute. I’m not surprised you’ve forgotten. We only just met a few moments ago.” You’ll notice he’s well armed, though not particularly well armored. In a bit of a contrast with Hoghead, Drax has a very short beard and his hair is braided and roughly shoulder length.
(He sounds very gruff and speaks at a slower than normal cadence. I also imagined that everyone in the group had met briefly somewhere in the city at an advert for the yawning portal. Feel free to ignore, amend or otherwise alter if you have another idea)
A female human walks in the door with unruly brown hair and wide green eyes and acts very much like a tourist. Her sensible worn boots softly thud on the floor as she makes her way to an open seat at the table. Her chainmail quietly clinks as she leans her quarterstaff against the table and you catch a glimpse of a stylized rose pinned to a scarf around her neck, possibly recognizing it as a holy symbol. Pardon me, there aren't too many seats available so I hope you don't mind me taking this one. The name's Jane, Jane Jenson. When the server stops by she orders an ale with some stew and bread.
(She speaks with a bit of a country accent, American southern or something similar. She probably wouldn't recognize anyone since I feel like she would have been in gawking mode since she made it to the city.)
A small, hooded figure slips inside right behind the human, keeping to the larger humanoid’s shadow in an attempt to stay unnoticed. They follow Jane to the table, and make themself known only after she has introduced herself.
”Well, it sure is lively tonight,” a feminine voice says as the figure pushes back the hood to reveal a halfling. Her hazelnut skin glows in the candlelight while her dark brown eyes skip across the multitude of faces. A wild mane of curly, dark brown hair sits atop her head. She grins at the others at the table before hopping into an empty chair.
Turning first to Jane, Drax gives her a welcoming look, “By all means, have a seat. Just ignore grumpy over here.” He jerks his thumbs towards Zerxius. “He’s a bit standoffish at first, but I secretly think he’s got a heart of gold.” He gives Zerxius a wink and an elbow nudge at this last line.
Turning towards the halfling, “It is quite a lovely night.” A brief silence hangs in the air for a moment, “A great night for meeting new people in a tavern you might say. I didn’t catch your name Ms…?”
A roundish figure under — you guessed it — a thick cloak and hood drops into one of the last chairs available at the table. A staff clatters against the side of the table, quickly grabbed and steadied again with a three-fingered, leathery, almost scaled hand.
Under the hood similar skin can be just barely seen, no normal nose, but a mouth that quirks with a self-aware smile. “Got room for another cloaked and hooded diner at this table?”
The servers buzz by the table, taking orders from the newcomers and dropping ale and stew for those who got in a bit earlier. The server is a skinny young man, with a shock of black hair sprouting out in every direction and the thinnest hint of a mustache dusting his upper lip.
'Busy night in here folks, and you've got the best seats in the house! Right up against the edge of the Portal itself. Make sure you keep your ears open for the desperate calls of anyone from below - or the sounds of giant spiders climbing their way up...'
His voice trails off with the last warning as he dances away through the crowd to refill mugs and pick up food orders from a tiny window in the back of the taproom.
His warning of giant spiders sounded oddly....specific. As if that was something that happened regularly in this strange place perched on the edge of the Underdark.
Hoghead introduces himself to the new arrivals. "Don't know about you all but I am fully planning to go down there. I've heard tales of piles of treasure. That could really get me out of a couple of jams." He lets out a bellowing laugh and slams the rest of his drink. Looking at the newest figure to approach, the round one with the staff, "You're an unusual sort, I don't mean any offense. I enjoy meeting new and unusual people. What's your story?"
'Going down is free dearie, it's the coming up that'll cost ya.' Unsolicited advice seems to be the house special, as a plump halfling woman chimes into the conversation as she drops fresh mugs of ale on the table. 'Ol Durnan takes his fee from everyone, and if ye don't have it, ye don't come up. Heartless one, some say. I say he's fair - he tells ya what's what and holds to it. It's a gold a piece for the ride back up - whether ya make it to the bottom er not.'
A swish of her skirts and she's blended back into the crowd, on to the next table to dispense ale and advice or wine and wisdom as the circumstances demand.
Drax muses quietly to himself. “How do they know if we have the gold? If they are up here and we are down there. Would they send us back down if we didn’t pay once reaching the top?” He continues in along this train of thought for a few moments while quietly partaking in some of the recently provided ale.
"Well, there's no way I'd come back without gold. I figure I need about 694 pieces of gold to get me out of a couple a jams. Although, honestly, 268 pieces would get me out of one jam. No real sense in coming back empty handed. Die down there or die up here. Same same." Hoghead says all this as he is absentmindedly rolling a set of dice. For an instant, a darkness crosses his face but it is replaced almost immediately by a broad smile and a hearty laugh followed by more ale.
Giant spiders?Jane looks a little excited and hesitant at the same time. I wonder how giant? I saw a pretty large one once, bigger than my whole hand! I whacked it good with a shovel and tossed it over to the chickens. They seemed to think it tasted alright. But I agree with the waitress, it's perfectly fair to tell people the price and then stick to it. Are you all planning on going down? I'm looking for a group to join. From the rumors going around this is definitely the place to be to make a lot of coin!
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
“I was planning on poking around to see what I could find. Seems like it would be safer in a group than by myself.” He leans over the edge and looks to see if there are any giant spiders crawling up from down below.
Perception: 9
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The Yawning Portal. You've grown up on the fantastic tales of adventure that all seem to center on this marvelous place. It's the veritable center of the universe for adventurers, seekers and lore finders.
Amid the bustle of Waterdeep, within the Castle Ward where barristers, nobles, and emissaries battle with word and contract, stands an inn not quite like any other. Before there was a Castle Ward or even what could be recognized as an ancestor of the City of Splendors, there was a dungeon, and in that dungeon begins the tale of the Yawning Portal.
In ages past, the mighty wizard Halaster built his tower at the foot of Mount Waterdeep and delved deep into tunnels first built by dwarves and drow in search of ever greater magical power. Halaster and his apprentices expanded the tunnels they found, worming out new lairs under the surface for reasons of their own. In time, their excavations grew into the vast labyrinth known today as Undermountain, the largest dungeon in all of the Forgotten Realms. Halaster eventually disappeared, as have all his apprentices, but the massive complex he built remains to this day.
For untold years, the secrets of Undermountain remained hidden from the surface world. Everyone who entered its halls failed to return. Its reputation as a death trap grew to the point that criminals in Waterdeep who were sentenced to die were forcibly escorted into the dungeon and left to fend for themselves.
All of that changed with the arrival of two men, a warrior named Durnan and a ne’er-do-well named Mirt. The duo were the first adventurers to return from Undermountain, laden with riches and magic treasures. While Mirt used his wealth to buy a mansion, Durnan had different plans. Durnan retired from adventuring and purchased the land on which sat the deep, broad well that was the only known entrance to the dungeon. Around this well he built a tavern and inn that caters to adventurers and those who seek their services, and he called it the Yawning Portal.
The taproom fills the entire first floor of the building and is dominated by a 40-foot-diameter well. As you step through the door, the Well is all you can see. It's huge. Bigger than you imagined. And the darkness from the dungeons below seems to suck all the light in the room towards it, as if it has a gravity all its own. Hanging over the well is a cage-like contraption hooked to a complicated pulley system for lowering would-be adventurers down into the darkness below. You know from the stories that rides down are free, but the ride up costs a gold piece. Per person. No exceptions and no charity.
On quiet nights, guests in the Yawning Portal gather around a large fireplace in the taproom and swap tales of distant places, strange monsters, and valuable treasures. On busier nights, the place is loud and crowded. This is one of those busy nights.
The balconies overflow tonight with well-dressed merchants and high-born nobles, while the tables on the ground floor are filled with a rougher sort. Adventurers of every description can be seen conspiring, carousing, or commiserating with their comrades and colleagues. The Yawning Portal attracts a certain sort, weapons of every description can be seen slung across chairs, piled on the tables and strapped at the sides of the more cautious.
An ageless man leans on the bar against the far wall, slowly wiping it down with a clean white rag. A full staff of barkeeps and waitstaff buzz around him, bringing drinks and food to the dozens of patrons in the Tavern tonight. He occasionally touches one of them on the shoulder or elbow as they pass and whispers in their ear, but otherwise makes no move to engage with any of the patrons. He looks out over his busy Inn with an impassive expression, whether he's bored or simply content isn't clear to those who don't know the enigmatic proprietor.
Near the entrance, a small gnome perches precariously on a stool, fiddling with a small box in his left hand. His right hand is encased in a black gauntlet of some indeterminate type of dense metal - the effect all the stranger because it's the only bit of arms or armor at all on the small figure. His eyes are alight with joy as he fiddles with the strange contraption in his hand, seemingly lost to the rest of the world around him.
On the far side of the room stands a large goliath, pale skin shining in the lantern light. Powerfully built, she drinks from a massive horn, ale sloshing down her face and soaking the expensive tunic she wears. The horn never seems to run empty as much as she drinks, whether that's due to magic or attentive staff is hard to tell.
Right up near the edge of the Portal itself, you see a large table, empty at the moment but sure to fill up quickly on a night like tonight.
Drop in and describe your character. To keep things moving, assume that you all wind up at the same table, waitstaff will see you and attend to you quickly and courteously, but won't answer your questions directly - they'd simply simile and dance off through the crowd if pressed to much.
A hooded and cloaked figure enters and goes to the bar. Leaning in and talking to the bartender softly he orders a drink then moves and sits at the table and sits where he can watch the door. The black hood with silver trim stays up at the moment. He is just sipping and watching the door
Laissez les bons temps rouler
Entering a few moments after the black hooded figure reaches the table a stocky dwarf in a mercenary outfit enters, scans the room and quickly moves to the table to join them. “Figures you would get here first.” They say as they sit down.
"Well yes it would...longer legs and all"
He lowers his hood revealing a tanned face. Long black hair slicked back and under his grey eyes a well manicured van dyke.
Sipping his drink again. "Are there others coming?"
(Speaking he sounds like a cross between Tim Curry and a disapproving English butler)
Laissez les bons temps rouler
A clean shaven dwarf saunters into the bar. He is outfitted in gleaming plate armor. It is clear upon closer inspection that it is old and battered but it has been cared for. He loudly orders a drink and then slams himself down at the table with the other adventurers. "The name's Hoghead Giantsbane." He bellows, taking a long swig of ale. "Either of you ever been down there?"
Almost absently "I cant say that i have" looking the two dwarves over. "My name is Zerxius" looking them over again. "Hoghead....charming, and you are....?)
Laissez les bons temps rouler
“Ah yes, Drax is my name. Drax Schrute. I’m not surprised you’ve forgotten. We only just met a few moments ago.” You’ll notice he’s well armed, though not particularly well armored. In a bit of a contrast with Hoghead, Drax has a very short beard and his hair is braided and roughly shoulder length.
(He sounds very gruff and speaks at a slower than normal cadence. I also imagined that everyone in the group had met briefly somewhere in the city at an advert for the yawning portal. Feel free to ignore, amend or otherwise alter if you have another idea)
A female human walks in the door with unruly brown hair and wide green eyes and acts very much like a tourist. Her sensible worn boots softly thud on the floor as she makes her way to an open seat at the table. Her chainmail quietly clinks as she leans her quarterstaff against the table and you catch a glimpse of a stylized rose pinned to a scarf around her neck, possibly recognizing it as a holy symbol. Pardon me, there aren't too many seats available so I hope you don't mind me taking this one. The name's Jane, Jane Jenson. When the server stops by she orders an ale with some stew and bread.
(She speaks with a bit of a country accent, American southern or something similar. She probably wouldn't recognize anyone since I feel like she would have been in gawking mode since she made it to the city.)
A small, hooded figure slips inside right behind the human, keeping to the larger humanoid’s shadow in an attempt to stay unnoticed.
They follow Jane to the table, and make themself known only after she has introduced herself.
”Well, it sure is lively tonight,” a feminine voice says as the figure pushes back the hood to reveal a halfling. Her hazelnut skin glows in the candlelight while her dark brown eyes skip across the multitude of faces. A wild mane of curly, dark brown hair sits atop her head.
She grins at the others at the table before hopping into an empty chair.
Turning first to Jane, Drax gives her a welcoming look, “By all means, have a seat. Just ignore grumpy over here.” He jerks his thumbs towards Zerxius. “He’s a bit standoffish at first, but I secretly think he’s got a heart of gold.” He gives Zerxius a wink and an elbow nudge at this last line.
Turning towards the halfling, “It is quite a lovely night.” A brief silence hangs in the air for a moment, “A great night for meeting new people in a tavern you might say. I didn’t catch your name Ms…?”
A roundish figure under — you guessed it — a thick cloak and hood drops into one of the last chairs available at the table. A staff clatters against the side of the table, quickly grabbed and steadied again with a three-fingered, leathery, almost scaled hand.
Under the hood similar skin can be just barely seen, no normal nose, but a mouth that quirks with a self-aware smile. “Got room for another cloaked and hooded diner at this table?”
Zerxius hmmphs at the elbow nudge and adjusts his robes. Nodding at each newcomer as they sit
Laissez les bons temps rouler
The servers buzz by the table, taking orders from the newcomers and dropping ale and stew for those who got in a bit earlier. The server is a skinny young man, with a shock of black hair sprouting out in every direction and the thinnest hint of a mustache dusting his upper lip.
'Busy night in here folks, and you've got the best seats in the house! Right up against the edge of the Portal itself. Make sure you keep your ears open for the desperate calls of anyone from below - or the sounds of giant spiders climbing their way up...'
His voice trails off with the last warning as he dances away through the crowd to refill mugs and pick up food orders from a tiny window in the back of the taproom.
His warning of giant spiders sounded oddly....specific. As if that was something that happened regularly in this strange place perched on the edge of the Underdark.
Hoghead introduces himself to the new arrivals. "Don't know about you all but I am fully planning to go down there. I've heard tales of piles of treasure. That could really get me out of a couple of jams." He lets out a bellowing laugh and slams the rest of his drink. Looking at the newest figure to approach, the round one with the staff, "You're an unusual sort, I don't mean any offense. I enjoy meeting new and unusual people. What's your story?"
"I plan on going down as well. To find what i find" zerxius says almost absently.
Laissez les bons temps rouler
'Going down is free dearie, it's the coming up that'll cost ya.' Unsolicited advice seems to be the house special, as a plump halfling woman chimes into the conversation as she drops fresh mugs of ale on the table. 'Ol Durnan takes his fee from everyone, and if ye don't have it, ye don't come up. Heartless one, some say. I say he's fair - he tells ya what's what and holds to it. It's a gold a piece for the ride back up - whether ya make it to the bottom er not.'
A swish of her skirts and she's blended back into the crowd, on to the next table to dispense ale and advice or wine and wisdom as the circumstances demand.
Drax muses quietly to himself. “How do they know if we have the gold? If they are up here and we are down there. Would they send us back down if we didn’t pay once reaching the top?” He continues in along this train of thought for a few moments while quietly partaking in some of the recently provided ale.
"Well, there's no way I'd come back without gold. I figure I need about 694 pieces of gold to get me out of a couple a jams. Although, honestly, 268 pieces would get me out of one jam. No real sense in coming back empty handed. Die down there or die up here. Same same." Hoghead says all this as he is absentmindedly rolling a set of dice. For an instant, a darkness crosses his face but it is replaced almost immediately by a broad smile and a hearty laugh followed by more ale.
Giant spiders? Jane looks a little excited and hesitant at the same time. I wonder how giant? I saw a pretty large one once, bigger than my whole hand! I whacked it good with a shovel and tossed it over to the chickens. They seemed to think it tasted alright. But I agree with the waitress, it's perfectly fair to tell people the price and then stick to it. Are you all planning on going down? I'm looking for a group to join. From the rumors going around this is definitely the place to be to make a lot of coin!
“I was planning on poking around to see what I could find. Seems like it would be safer in a group than by myself.” He leans over the edge and looks to see if there are any giant spiders crawling up from down below.
Perception: 9