Terrlynn was confused for a moment.  He was sending her ale to another table filled with people?  She turned to look at the table with the Elf, Tiefling and Svirfneblin.  When she turned back, he had already left her.  Not wanting to risk not getting free drinks, she headed over to the table.  She didn't catch most of it but Devol was kind enough to refer to her by more than Troll Kicker.  

"Devol?  Terrlyn, and I've kicked more than Trolls.  Elves, Humans, Orcs... got some good distance from a Halfling once, think was around something around 27 feet if I recall..."  She pauses, unsure where to take the conversation from there.

"Intact," stutters Volo, "Uh, yes, yes...I'd like him very much intact and indeed unharmed if you please. He is my dear friend and I'd like him to remain whole, if you please." The scholar helps himself to one of the flagons brought over by the barmaid. "Thank you Bonnie," he says, "uh, just put your tip on my, uh...tab, if you please. Shall we say, uh, three coppers?" The barmaid rolls her eyes before setting the remaining flagons on the table for the others and turning sharply to walk away back towards the bar.

Volo then directs his attention towards Lebron's line of questioning: "Floon? Oh, he is just an old friend. Not much of an adventurer, but the man can certainly spin a yarn. He is one of my many muses who's assistance I enlist whenever I am, let's say, having a tough time getting started on a new story. Two nights ago, I invited him to join me for some drinking and merrymaking at the Skewered Dragon in the Dock Ward. We drank and gambled for a few hours, and then I left. He'd lost a lot that night in a particularly bad run of three-dragon ante hands and said he was going to stick around and try to win it all back. That’s the last I saw of Floon."

Volo produces a pouch of coins and counts out four small piles of ten apiece and slides them across the table to the others. "So, what say ye all? Will you find him for me?"

Leaning back in his seat, Cyrano rubs his chin in contempltion as he listens to the proposal along with his friend and new partners questions. The sight of the coins temporarily makes Cyrano forget his drow worries. It is at this point that the genasi introduces herself. Seeing the warriors interest in joining the crew pleases Cyrano. The thought of more muscle on the crew is a welcome one. "Well met Terrlyn, as you said this is Devol and I am Cyrano. Master Geddarm here has just asked us to inquire as to the welfare and location of a friend. Would you care to join our merry little band in seeing what has transpired?" Cyrano immediately turns back to the hero writer and scrapes his share off the table. 'I think I can probably put out a feeler or two to see what and where this friend is." Cyrano looks about the table to confirm the intrest of the others. He also tries to detect how much truth is in Volothamps description of his friend.

(Forgot the insight roll)

7

Devol glowered a bit at Lebron as she accepted a beer mug herself. "You're the one who told me to throw you without knowing if I could or not." She takes a sip from her mug. "Thanks for playin' along with the whole homewrecker thing." She nods a bit as she listens to Terrlyn's boasting. "Good, we might need an ass-kicker depending on this.. Floon guy's situation." She turned back to Volo. "Hey, I just need to make sure the terms of this contract are clear - I know I got a few friends I've wanted to kill." She gave Cyrano a slightly significant glance before looking back to Volo. "Hell, I just had a job fall through. I'm in." She grumbles a bit to herself. "If this one hopped a ship too, though..."

Terrlynn scratched her head for a moment.  The sound our rock scrapping on rock  went off as she did so.  "Um... I'm not sure what you all are talking about but hey, get a few drinks in a girl and we'll see where the night takes up," she jokes.  

Cyrano judges the scholar's words carefully as if evaluating a contract with a devil, but finds no reason to doubt the man's claims concerning the payoff for his errand. "Excellent!" exclaims Volo, "The Skewered Dragon sits at the intersection of Net Street and Fillet Lane in the Dock Ward. Take care as you move through that area though...it is a rather, ahem, 'rough' part of town and you four will stick out like a sore thumb. If you have a disguise self spell available, I'd suggest using it. The Waterdavian Police can trod through there with relative impunity, but most others will at least be stopped and questioned. Floon is a handsome human male in his early thirties with wavy red-blond hair who prefers to dress in princely garb - he would certainly have been noticed that night, but getting the truth out of anyone who may have noticed him will be a task in an of itself."

Volo downs his flagon and begins to exit the booth: "Now, if you'll excuse me I have another appointment arriving shortly. Let's reconvene here in say, three days?" 

As Volo rises and proceeds to exit, Lebron throws a look around the table that says: 'Can you believe this guy ?'  then shrugs and stretches nonchalantly.

"Right. So... y'all feel up to this ? One thing for sure: Pretty Boy Floon there would stick out like a sore thumb as well in the Dock Ward, that's a fact. Now, I may have a way to get us around, but we'll have to either disguise ourselves or at least figure out who plays which role first, agreed ?" He flashes a winning smile. "I got me an idea for a fine accoutrement that would fit Yours Truly like a waterdhavian glove, of course. Goes without saying... but not sure about how to hide the throwing champ's ruddy complexion," he points at Devol's crimson skin, "or that one's pebbly and rugged looks neither" he turns towards Terrlynn, before his attention finally land on the Svirfneblin: "Now, you, old boy... Somehow, I get a feeling you must have... contingencies for that sorta thing, am I right, G ?"

Devol flashes Lebron a brief, moderately obscene gesture. "Don't worry about me, I know how to blend in fine. In the shadows. In a crowd. Whatever." She slammed back the rest of her beer and slammed the mug onto the table. "Right. Who do we all know in the Dock Ward?"

As if on cue with Devol's question about the party's collective knowledge concerning the Dock Ward, the pamphlet that Lebron picked up when he entered the bar spills out of one of his pockets. It lands face-up on the floor, it's cover displaying the title "Volo's Waterdeep Enchiridion: A Visitor's Guide to the City of Splendors."

 "I'll make do." replies Cyrano. "The Dragon, huh." He rubs his chin. "I know the place. Not far from the shop. Pretty rough. Probably best if questions get asked you just disembarked from "The Luskan" and are looking for a new boat. It sailed a couple days ago. Cover won't hold for much scrutiny but will make do in a pinch. If that was the last place seen probably the first place we should look. We can stop by the shop and see if there's any news."

When the drinks finally get there, Terrlynn takes her mug and drinks a good amount.  "So I'm not sure what was asked before but can I break it down?" she asks.  "Let me know if I've got this right.  You got a friend named Floom, red hair and all fancy dressed.  He's missin and you want help findin hum.  He last at some bar called the Dragon Skewer and it's on the docks which are the rough part of town."  She lets out a laugh before downing the rest of her mug.  "Rough...  so like bully rough or angry troll rough."

Volo was sliding out of the booth as Terrlynn arrives. In response to her questions, he says: "That's the gist of it my dear. My friend Floon is definitely one of those ginger devils...and he likes his fine fashion, so you'll not see him wearing dock boots or sailor's knickers. I left him at the Skewered Dragon - against my better judgement - and now he's gone missing. That tavern is over in the Dock Ward, which is definitely in the rough part of town...that's bully rough, not troll rough, but anything is possible in Waterdeep. I wouldn't be surprised if ye ran into a bunch more o' them Xanatharian thugs though."

At the mention of the Xanathar Gang, Lebron rolls his eyes again and this time throws his hands up for good measure:

"Y'all see whattamsayin ? I was kinda waitin' for him sayin' exactly THAT !" The fancily dressed half-elf smuggler sighs, then shakes his head in fake disgust. "So ? Who wanna do what, here ? I propose we go as a weird-ass group of cultists: ye know, encens-swingin' and mantra-hummin' and prayer-crowin' and all that jive ? That should keep the scammers and thugs off our backs, rite ? I mean, who likes to mess with zealots, after all... they's can curse a'body and they also don't be havin' no gold on them either, that's fact, rite ? We'd just have to grab a few of 'em hemp robes with deep hoods, tie it with a bow and voi-friggin'-là !"

He looks around the assembled group genially, waiting to see their reactions and looking quite pleased with himself.

Cyrano rubs his chin as he considers the suggestion. "I agree with the sentiment which makes me think it's better as an escape plan. Hide in plain sight and all that. Going in we should probably stick to what Volo said and go with dock boots and sailor gear. I can pass you off as clients, if questions are asked, that way. With the zealot angle people might not want to bother them but they still notice and that is not what we want up front. Cover story is one of us owes him money and we're lookin' to pay. Given the gambler angle not unlikely. People are usually more willing to give up info if they feel it's beneficial to the target or at the very least not detrimental. Besides if this was an act of revenge or a debt unpaid that got Floon nicked, it's not a far jump to assume the one responsible will come to us looking to collect."

Devol nods. "I'd prefer Cyrano's plan - I'm better at cursing like a sailor on leave than... Chanting." She lets out a slight belch. "I just need an alleyway or quiet spot to dip into for a moment and I'll be able to blend in for an hour. Usually."

Lebron shrugs, a little mournfully but mostly nonplussed either way: "Sure thing, lumpy dock boots it is, then ! I'll still grab us some of 'em churchy robes for later, though... case y'all change your minds in a pinch, yea ?"

"Good, gather what you need and meet me outside. Don't concern yourself with one for me. I've been seen around enough that I shouldn't draw attention. Besides newer faces usually need a guide so that is what I will be. Now let's get to it." Cyrano casts about a cautious eye, "There's some here I'd rather avoid here if possible." He says the last part as his gaze passes over the area the drow were at before. Cyrano then slides off his chair and makes his way to the door as inconspicuously as possible.

Stealth: 22

Cyrano is both a bit relieved and anxious at the same time to find that the room which served as the private meeting space for Jarlaxyl and the other drow is completely empty...while they are no longer in his immediate vicinity, he also realizes that he has no idea where they are now, which unnerves him a bit.

Devol and Lebron prepare their dockworker disguises with spell and skill respectively, while Terrlynn - with no such special abilities at her disposal - figures that she probably looks "dangerous" enough to not have to worry about being accosted in a rough part of town.

The party collects their down payments from Volo, finishes their drinks and makes their way through the door of The Yawning Portal enroute to the Dock Ward to search for a man named Floon. The group walks for several blocks from the tavern until they finally reach an area of the city full of tall, densely packed tenements that leave most of the neighborhood in shadow at ground level. The streetlamps have had their glass smashed and their candles stolen, and the smells of salt air and excrement linger as they pass by rows of run-down buildings. As they turn a corner, they find themselves on a street that has been cordoned off by the City Watch. Lying on the cobblestones are a half-dozen corpses, seemingly the victims of some terrible skirmish. Watch officers have disarmed and arrested three blood-drenched humans and are in the midst of questioning witnesses. One of the officers sees them and says: “Get on...nothing to see here.”

(Are there Zanatharians among either groups of victims or suspects? If there are xanths, then are the opposing group recognizable? Perception: 7)