In the city of Waterdeep rests a tavern called the Yawning Portal, named after the gaping pit in its common room. At the bottom of this crumbling shaft is a labyrinthine dungeon shunned by all but the most daring adventurers. Known as Undermountain, this dungeon is the domain of the mad wizard Halaster Blackcloak. Long has the Mad Mage dwelt in these forlorn depths, seeding his lair with monsters, traps, and mysteries—to what end is a constant source of speculation and concern.
PROLOGUE
More than one thousand years ago, the wizard Halaster Blackcloak journeyed from a distant land to the base of Mount Waterdeep, perhaps acceding to the whispered summons of providence. Some believe he hailed from the nearly forgotten empire known as the Cradlelands Others give Halaster less ancient origins, placing him among the early wizards of Netheril, or asserting that he came from a southern nation long since buried by sand and time. Whatever his origin, scholars have recorded that Halaster brought with him seven apprentices to Mount Waterdeep. This is common knowledge.
With the Seven guarding his back, Halaster tapped into his immense power to summon beings from other planes of existence to help him build a wizard’s tower to dwarf all other wizard’s towers. During the time Halaster was underground, his magnificent tower and its surrounding walls fell into ruin. In time, the city now known as Waterdeep developed in the shadow of Mount Waterdeep and spread down to the harbor. As the city sprawled outward over the years, it came to surround the ruins of Halaster’s home. Undermountain was known to those early settlers, and they often sent criminals into its endless depths as punishment.
So it was for many years, until an intrepid adventurer named Durnan delved into the labyrinth beneath the tower and returned alive, laden with riches and countless harrowing tales. Durnan used his new fortune to demolish the remnants of Halaster’s tower and built an inn over the well he had used to descend into Undermountain, and call it the Yawning Portal. Durnan owns and operates the inn and tavern to this day, serving patrons and inviting the brave and foolish alike to test their mettle in the Dungeon of the Mad Mage.
THE OTHER DAY
The greatest journey of your life began on a day like any other. It started with a note - a summons. For reasons of your own, you are drawn to this place. It is called Undermountain. You feel like this will be the most important adventure of your life, should you survive. There is something down below in Undermountain. You can't quite put your finger on it. You've heard the tales about the place, and how it came to be, but that was a long time ago. Each of you have a journey - a reason - that leads down there. Each of you are prepared to face the depths.
Some of you are new. Some of you are old, reuniting with friends from the past. But, let’s get more specific. On to our first task.
TASK #1 DUE ANYTIME BY SUNDAY NIGHT. INTRODUCTIONS, WHO AND WHY?
Who are you? Why are you here? If you are returning, elaborate on what you have been doing since Heist up to the point of your mysterious summoning. If you are new, tell us your story before getting your summons. Feel free to mingle until the adventure starts Sunday evening.
GAME DETAILS: (THE PORTAL, QUESTS, AND UNDERMOUNTAIN SECRETS)
This adventure will be a level by level dungeon crawl. There are about 20 levels to explore. Each time you find the entrance to the next level deeper into Undermountain, you will gain a level of experience. There are PLENTY of things to do each level of Undermountain, so don’t worry. You can enter and exit the dungeon through The Yawning Portal. There will be many things to see, explore, interact with, and fight, and listed below are some quests you guys can take and complete if you want to.
THE YAWNING PORTAL
The Yawning Portal, a famous inn and tavern located near the eastern slope of Mount Waterdeep, derives its name from a 40-foot-diameter well that descends into the first level of Undermountain. Located in the center of the taproom, the well was once the outer shell of Halaster’s mighty tower, which was demolished long ago. Its sheer walls are made of old mortared stones. Next to this gaping orifice hangs a winch with a simple rope-and-pulley mechanism that Durnan, the proprietor, uses to lower adventurers down the shaft and (sometimes) pull them up again. Durnan controls the winch himself and will transport only one adventurer at a time. The walls of the well are crumbly but have abundant handholds and footholds. They can be scaled without climbing gear with a successful DC 15 Strength (Athletics) check. No check is needed to enter Undermountain by using the rope-and-pulley system.
QUESTS
"The Hunt for Magic Items and Spellbooks"
Obaya Uday, a Chultan priest of Waukeen, The God of Trade, has traveled from the distant city of Port Nyanzaru on behalf of a wizard named Wakanga O’tamu to procure magic items from Waterdeep. When she learned about Undermountain, Obaya booked a room at the Yawning Portal in the hope of hiring adventurers to plunder the dungeon of its magical riches. Some of you may know her.
Obaya approaches any interested adventurer and offers to pay for any unwanted magic items you find in Undermountain. Obaya has secured her funds in Waterdavian banks and can pay handsomely within a matter of hours for any magic items any of you bring to her. The amount she’s willing to pay is based on the item’s rarity, as shown below, and is nonnegotiable. She always pays in platinum pieces for ease of transport. Common = 10pp Uncommon = 50pp Rare = 500pp Very Rare = 5000pp
Obaya is also interested in buying spellbooks for Wakanga O’tamu. She prices a spellbook based on the highest-level spell contained in it: 5 pp for 1st level, 25 pp for 2nd or 3rd level, 100 pp for 4th or 5th level, 250 pp for 6th or 7th level, and 500 pp for 8th or 9th level.
"Pay A Harper Debt"
A bard named Mattrim Mereg, known as Threestrings to his friends, plays a three-stringed lute at the Yawning Portal almost regularly. Some of you may know him. Mattrim needs a pouch of gold delivered to a female half-drow named Cal’al Claddani, who runs a tavern called the Flagon and the Dragon in Skullport. Cal’al provided shelter and healing to a wounded Harper spy in Skullport and is owed payment for her support. Mattrim’s pouch contains three moonstones worth 50 gp each. If any of you choose to take on this quest, once you deliver the pouch, you can take refuge in a Harper hideout called Dalagor’s Fortress, located on the uppermost level of Skullport. Mattrim tells the characters that a dragonborn mage named Felrax guards the place.
"Search for Kressando Rosznar"
A young noblewoman, Esvele Rosznar has been frequenting the Yawning Portal on busy evenings, keeping mostly to herself while sipping zzar and listening to gossip. Her family has a tarnished reputation, having once been banished from Waterdeep for slavery and other illegal acts. Although the Rosznar family is trying to regain its integrity and standing, several bad apples threaten to impede that progress with their sinister ventures. Esvele’s brother, Kressando, was sent to Skullport to conduct secret meetings with the Xanathar Guild and gauge interest in setting up a slave trade in Skullport, far from the eyes of Waterdavian authorities. Esvele didn’t learn of this meeting until after Kressando vanished, and she is determined to stop his scheming and see him returned to Waterdeep before he can further tarnish the Rosznar name.
If you choose to take on this quest, Esvele asks you to keep an eye out for Kressando, a 22-year-old man with fair skin and dark curly hair, trained in the arts of stealth and thievery. She also tells you that Kressando wears a platinum signet ring bearing the Rosznar family crest (a diving white falcon on a field of blue) and an inscription of the family motto (“Fly high and stoop swift”). She promises that if you can facilitate Kressando’s safe return or deliver proof of his whereabouts to Esvele, she will owe them a favor, adding that “You can trust in House Rosznar." There will also be a new quest after this.
"Throne of the Coronal"
Volothamp Geddarm, famous explorer and raconteur, offers to buy you guys a round of drinks to celebrate their upcoming expedition into the Dungeon of the Mad Mage. Injected into the conversation is the following tale:
"This story dates to the fall of Illefarn, an elven kingdom of the North. An alabaster throne belonging to Syglaeth Audark, the last coronal of Illefarn, disappeared from the capital city of Aelinthaldaar, where the Mad Mage built his tower and today stands Waterdeep. It’s said that a group of dwarves feared the destruction of such a miraculous work of stonecraft and stole the throne right out from under the elves’ slender noses. Where the dwarves hid it for so long, who knows? But should you find it in Undermountain, it would please the elves of the North to know it survives. If you find any information on the throne, return to me for a hefty reward."
UNDERMOUNTAIN SECRETS
Any character who spends at least four hours in the Yawning Portal is likely to overhear tall tales about the Mad Mage and his dungeon. Not all rumors are to be believed, however, and all of you need keen ears and sharp insight to determine which stories have weight. Each four hours you spend in the Yawning Portal, you can make one DC 20 Intelligence (Investigation) check or Wisdom (Insight) check. If the check succeeds, you learn a secret about Undermountain, and I will PM you the information you learned.
Raiik is a half orc Paladin, whose looks favour his mother's human side. He has never met his father- an apparent warlord of a waste desert clan. His mother, Lani was defeated attempting to overthrow Raiik's father in her early days as a Paladin of Helm and was taken prisoner. She was kept as the warlord's personal slave until she managed to escape, giving birth to Raiik months later.
Raiik was brought up with lawful good tenancies and was accepted in to his mother's Paladin order, commanded by Lord Belmont. He would help maintain weapons, move heavy equipment and pack tents on expeditions. On one such adventure, a small team of Paladins sought shelter in a Monk temple where Raiik met Master Zurl-Rhee. His way of the fist enthralled Raiik, and he often ventured back to the temple for more teachings. In his teens, he eventually lived there, training directly under Rhee. He learnt magical aspects of ki and meditation allowed him to communicate with his faith more strongly.
Raiik returned to the Order of Helm after years, where he was now of age to initiate training as a Paladin. All the other recruits found Raiik's fighting style interesting, and fearsome. Whereas most used weapons and shields, Raiik only used his fists, as the way Rhee taught him. Fueled by wanting to avenge his mother's time in the orc camp, Raiik hunted the tribe as his initiation quest. After finding the tribe and the leader found out he was his son, agreed to single combat. Raiik slew his father and while covered in his blood, he felt nothing but a rage towards more beings of evil.
Upon his return, Raiik was initiated and gifted armour of Helm- custom made for his style. Not clad in iron, but a breastplate with a large shoulder guard to allow freedom of movement. He received note of Undermountain and ventures here to continue his story.
We see Raiik, donned in matching gauntlets and shin guarded boots hunched over the bar with a tankard of whiskey. His olive skin is leathery and sun touched, from hours of training outdoors. He is looking around, taking in the crowd and keeping an eye out for any interesting individuals.
At some point in the day a small black cat, wit ha slight green shimmer and multicolored swirl patterns on its paws, stalks into the yawning portal. With a practiced ease it slips through the shadows and up into the rafters. It makes its way up to the bar and drops down. What falls from up above is not a black cat but a woman. An elven girl with a pale brownish skin tone and black hair appears in place of the cat. She stands a 5'11"and has dazzling emerald eyes. She wears a..coat...robe...outfit made of living plants woven together with plans of iron hard bark. Small vines sprout through her hair creating a myriad of accessories and giving it an almost loose deadlock style accented with a large eagle feather. She holds a gnarled oak staff and a wooden shield slung on her back. She is barefoot and has a multicolored tattoo on her hands.
Despite her grand entrance she speaks in a small meek voice. In elvish she speaks *Elvish* Hello, is this the yawning portal?*Elvish*
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Grianne Wildpaw: Wood Elf Druid level 12 (8W-4L)- - Coliseum of Conquest: Master of Faerie Fire. Just don't ask her to spell it.
Grianne Wildpaw: Wood Elf Druid level 6 (2W-1L)- - Coliseum Reborn : Master of a Myriad of forms.
Runt, the Stormchosen: Half-Orc barbarian level 5 -- The Guild
Startling an elven barmaid as you leap down, she answers you in your native tongue, "Why, yes! Welcome!" She does a quick double take to look at you and the ceiling.
This adventure will begin a little differently, for you are all here for your own personal reasons as to why you're exploring Undermountain. Lets see how the introductions progress.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Lythril, spends a few (how long do we have to hang out before this thing kicks off? hours? days?) having discussions with her friend Obaya and her other friends from the Dragon. It's interesting to watch who goes into the portal and what comes out. Fortunately, it's mostly adventurers in one or more mostly whole parts. She gladly helps patch them back together frequently giving extra hugs for encouragement.
She is eager to discover what new quests await and to find out who had sent the mysterious missive. She is a...mostly patient woman and enjoys taking in the view while waiting and talking to other patrons. The appearance of a green elf girl piques a particular interest in her eye, must be the plants.
Insight check 5
Investigation check 13
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"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
Danitriel waltzed into the Yawning portal with a grin. One of the frivolous purchases she had made with her share of the money was a season ticket to the women's division of the Waterdhavian Combat League in the Sea Ward's stadium known as the Field of Triumph. There had been a spirited match between reigning Women's Champion Triss Skyheart and best-friend-turned-rival Jamie Mikkelson and a grand time had been had by all, or at least most, in the audience.
Ordering an ale from -and also flirting with- a pretty barmaid, Dani had a whispered conversation with the bard known as Threestrings. She looked around and spotted Lythril causing her to stride in that direction.
Danitriel was as usual dressed fancily, her white blouse shimmered as threads of spun silver caught the light. Over it was a navy blue vest with crescent moons embroidered in silver thread and buttery soft black leather pants that hugged her curves. The outer third of the trousers were cut away on either side to be held together and decorated with fancy laces. These were tucked into knee-high boots of dark blue suede and the outfit was topped of with a wide-brimmed hat that matched the boots and was decorated with a yellow, orange and red sunpeacock feather.
"Well hello there." She said to Lythril in greeting as she slid gracefully into a chair.
Lythril: You have enough time to do whatever you'd like before the group heads into the portal. Your good friend Obaya specifically mentions to you, that if you're going into the portal to explore Undermountain, to take on her quest and get paid for magic items you might find and bring back to her. The green elf girl you notice is indeed very beautiful in a natural sort of way, and many drunk customers "pretend" to be wounded adventurers to receive your special hugs. You notice that the green elf girl and Dani are looking and observing the portal as well with a fascinated interest, as if they, too, have received a calling to explore it.
Raiik: It dosen't take much to realize that an attractive stout powerhouse of a female dwarf is giving out hugs to wounded adventurers, healing them. In between heals she seems drawn to the portal. As does that green elf girl, and that female half elf over there. She's flirting with a barmaid, but her attention is more towards the portal as well. What coincidental behavior. She glided over to talk to the dwarf girl. My, she knows how to dress, that's for sure.
All of you: Despite your interactions and activities, you are drawn to the portal. It's like..something is tugging at your spirit, you can't seem to focus away from it.
Alessandra was not someone who would stick around in cities like Waterdeep for too long, having only come to pick up some supplies to continue her journey and be on her way, but upon finding herself in the Church of Waukeen late at night due to some unknown force, she found herself at a crossroads. When given the invitation from the priestess, she expected herself to throw it away and move on, but something was telling her to read it. It was a promising proposition and perhaps she could find what she was looking for in the depths of the Undermountain. She should leave and get out of this town, but, when she looked down at the opened envelope in her pale hands, her gut was telling her to stop running and heed to the call. Go.
And she did.
She managed to find herself at the front door of the Yawning Portal, keeping her black robes tightly wrapped around her form before opening it. She wasn't one to go to bars (not anymore, too many memories), but this was the meeting point if she read the letter correctly. With her head low to avoid any unnecessary gazes, she heads straight to the corner of the bar and sits on a stool to observe all the other patrons that were already there.
Her eyes automatically locked onto a beautiful elven woman who definitely had quite a bit of coin on her, talking to, who she assumed, was a close dwarven friend. Among scanning again, there was another elf, but clothed in... leaves? City folk were quite strange, but she did have gorgeous sparkling green eyes. Finally, so far when looking for any particular individuals, she finished with the orc looming over a large tankard.
If she ever prayed to a God, she would hope they were not the people she would be working with. What a rag-tag team of... A brute, a snobby elf, a woman pretending to be a tree, a very affectionate dwarf... So far...
Perhaps I shouldn't have come here.
And eventually, without her robe:
Her eyes are white as well c:
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Aeydof the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\
At one point during the evening, as you all go along your business in the tavern, something happens. All of you, as if this was a sign from some unseen force toying with you like a puppet with strings, notice each other standing, sitting, or near the portal - looking into it. Looking into it as if you had a purpose. A NEED to go in there. It wasn't just the note now. Something inside you is..pulling you..into it.
This can't be a mere coincidence. You notice that whoever you look at, weather the half-orc brute, the snobby elf, the leaf elf, the dwarf with the amazing breasts..you all feel a moment of connection. As if everyone had the same thought:
You got a message, too?
It was at that moment Obaya - the visiting Chultan priest of Waukeen - walked up to you all, for sure knew "the look" and said, "You feel the pull. Don't you, my friends?"
Felix and his younger brother, Teddy, were grumbling to each other as they lazily dug around the rock sticking up right in the middle of father’s row of corn stalks. “Why does he always make us do his dirty work? It’s not fair!” Felix exclaimed with disgust to Teddy. “Right! I wanna go fishin’ instead” Teddy tiredly responded. They continued to labor on for another hour, grumbling the entire time, while digging a trench around and under the boulder. After what seemed like hours, the trench was deep enough that the boulder finally slumped and rolled to the side. With glee, Felix gave Teddy a high five. Hooting and hollering at their minor accomplishment, they threw their shovels down into the growing dirt pile next to the boulder, and Teddy ran off to the barn to fetch Patches, their ragged and scrawny mule, as well as a rope. Felix slumped down on the dirt pile, taking a breather while Teddy went to get help. Lazily picking up a handful of pebbles, he began throwing them one by one into the recently dug hole. The third stone made a strange pinging noise when it hit the bottom of the hole. “What the heck?!” Felix quietly swore under his breath. Tiredly getting back up on his feet, he hopped down into the hole, got down on his hands and knees, and started to push away the loose dirt. Quickly, a metal plate revealed itself, tarnished but featuring a faded patina of black paint.
Excitedly, Felix rapidly continued to shove the loose dirt at the bottom of the hole away, soon revealing a metallic head. Then shoulders. HUGE shoulders. Digging down a foot further, Felix began to soon realize that what he was uncovering was the gigantic body of some huge, metallic humanoid.
Screaming at the top of his lungs, “FATHER! FAAAAATTTTTHHHHHHHHEEEEERRRRRRR! Come quick!”
The next day
It took the boys and father all afternoon to fully dig out the entire metallic beast, and using Patches, pull the contraption out of the hole and drag it back to the barn. Father sent Felix into Waterdeep, riding the tired out Patches, to fetch the county Cleric. Later that evening, when the Cleric and his retinue arrived, Felix and Teddy gleefully showed off their find. Gasping with shock (and terror), the Cleric stumbled backwards when father pulled the tarp off of the beast. Quickly signing the cross, the Cleric mumbled to himself, “God help us...” before quickly retreating out of the barn, rapidly mounting his mule, and departing the farmstead with haste.
The next morning, the Cleric arrived at sunrise, this time with a wizard in tow. Grinning broadly, the wizened wizard muttered to himself in a strange language unknown to all in attendance, as he spent the next hour inspecting the metallic beast.
Finally calling everyone over, he cleared his throat, and excitedly announced to the gathering crowd “THIS, my friends, is a warforged! Thousands of years old. Hmmm. Yes. Very ancient. I’ve heard rumors of their existence, but never thought they were true.”
Teddy: “A war-torged? Wuts dat?!”
Wizard, slowly: “A warforged. An ancient beast, bred for one thing and one thing only. Killing.”
The silence was palpable as the group of onlookers stumbled backwards, many falling on their butts in shock.
Astrid received the letter of summons, as had the rest of the tavern owners. “Oh piffle. Not THAT place again! No way am I going there, and getting my stunning new outfit dirty. Good gawd, no. I just don’t have the time to deal with those riff raff. No sir-re-bob!”
Over breakfast oats and eggs, Astrid lazily complained about the summons to Nim. “I just can’t be bothered with that place. I’m thinking about just ignoring that summons.” Nim, in halting but improving Common: “That is inadvisable, ma’am. The Waterdeep Town Council is very particular in their demands. If you do not respond to the summons, I believe they would report you to the authorities. PLEASE, I do not wish to have them send Detective Crispy again. Recall what she did to the new gaming tables last time she showed up on our doorstep?! Perhaps, if I may, I have another idea. I’ve heard rumors of a new beast for hire. I suggest hiring this metal humanoid to be your stand in?”
This afternoon
The doorway to the Yawning Portal slams open with such gusto, it’s easily ripped off its hinges and flies across the room, only to fall like a fall leaf down the gaping maw in the center of the tavern floor. Barely squeezing through the doorway, having to duck down to fit, marches in a GIGANTIC metallic beast holding a letter in one hand. Stopping in the entryway, it’s head swivels from side to side, scanning the entire tavern. The music has stopped, and all eyes in the tavern are gazing up at the emotionless humanoid, their mouths agape in awe. Upon seeing the barkeep, it noisily marches over to the bar and hands her the letter. Taking a barstool seat, it attempts to sit down, only to easily crush the wood of the chair into thousands of pieces from its substantial weight.
In a robotic, monotone voice, it announces to the barkeep, “OU812 reporting for duty. This letter requests a summons for Astrid Holmes. I am OU812. I am reporting in place of Ms. Holmes.”
Azrael had been amidst his routine prayers with his hundred-odd faithful followers, all worshiping Bahamut, he has another vision... and Azrael knew to follow it without question. He would make sure to finish his duties first, which would likely make him late.. again, for the meeting with Obaya. Azraels followers were quieter than you would expect, even in their fervor, to respect the patrons above. Occasionally one patron or another would wander down, as Azrael allowed them to. Some would ask questions, others would come down for the novelty, and othertimes, Azrael would gain a new Acolyte for Bahamuts Justice. Azrael's brand of faith was similar to the retribution paladin. Vengeance for the weak, destruction to the wicked and all who aided them. This very reason was why his faith grew so fast (Aside from the fact Bahamut had shown favor to him, which spread the word initially, and became somewhat mythical to far off travelers, attracting them to the city. As many of the downtrodden sough revenge against those who had hurt them, or their family, and here they could find both peace, and power to smite those who wielded power for the sake of power. Obviously there were occasionally bad apples that had to be 'dealt with' but they were quelled, one way or another.
Pheral, now nearly ready to give birth, still insisted on running the tavern, and Azrael was confident she could handle it. Pheral didn't come down often or really ever observe the Faith, but that was fine with Azrael. Everyone had choices to make. The fact she stuck with him despite it.. or perhaps because of it, they shared a wonderful relationship, where both had plenty of personal space, yet they almost never missed a night of fun together, until the last three months or so, where it was relegated to cuddling at most, for obvious reasons. Azrael had never told Pherals secret, as he felt that if she wished to share it, that was her prerogotive. Ever since Azraels acquisition of the airship, when he wasn't using it for duties to Bahamut, it was used more generally, for shopping, getting around, and transport in general. Azrael could Pilot it himself after the lessons he had paid for, using his magic to compensate for the lack of crew.
Azrael maintained contact with his friend from the city watch, and had told him everything. Everything. that had gone down, short of the fortune thye had made... though thanks to a certain rabid squirrel, that info was leaked, but Azrael never accused her. Azrael would always keep his friend up to date on whatever cults he and his followers found, gangs, and other such things. Azrael felt no reason to hide it and Waterdeep became safer for it. Azrael was truly making change in the city, a little at a time. Though the largest, most powerful gangs still existed in their full capacity, he hurt them where he could.
(Jalaster?)
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Current
A deep shadow settled over the tavern, if it wasn't already night, it would seem as though night had descended on the Yawning Portal. Heavy engines revving above were audible, as soft winds fell over the roof of it. Azrael would speak to Nim, having already taught Nim how to fly it as well, though it came naturally to Nim, and Nim required no magic to do what Azrael could. He descended the long, rope ladder, dropping down to the ground, before the rope magically went back up. That signalling Nim to take the ship back home, to their own Tavern. Azrael hadn't been here in months, other than to meet with his friend on occasion, but never needed to actually 'be' here until now. Azrael noted that one of the doors to the portal seemed to be Missing, causing him to cant his head as he entered. Inside, Azrael saw the usual suspects, as well as some new faces, and old friends.
Hail Lythril! ...... Danitriel....... Azrael had heard through Astrids never-closing maw, how Dani 'felt' about his faith and attitude towards it, and that had put a sour note between the pair. Not enough to cause a rift, but Azrael let the wound exist, instead of trying to heal it. And it was obvious as he seemed to look past her as soon as he acknowledged her existence. Azrael had grown a little closer to Lythril, atleast in 'his' opinion, as he greeted her with a ruffle of her hair with his large hand. He had begun actively discouraging her particular brand of 'healing' on him whenever it was necessary, as he felt it would be tantamount to cheating on Pheral in some sense, but still welcomed her healing hands when needed.
Azrael took another look around the bar, and he spotted the half-Orc, who looked well-built, and ready for combat.. He wanted to meet this person.. Something about him felt... kindred, but Azrael could not place it.. Btut Azrael felt he wanted to know this person.. but before he could act on it, he saw the Warforged and his eyes grew wide, approaching it, he would walk to its fore, and motion a greeting of his faith before saying Are you of the temple of Gond? A new form of Nimblewright? Or something entirely different altogether? My name is Azrael Zifandiel, Head Acolyte of Bahamut in the city of Waterdeep, it is my pleasure to make your aquaintence....... he stopped there, leaving it in the air for the Machine to introduce itself, if it could, having just missed the machines greeting minutes before.
Azraels eyes were still on Raiik to some degree, and if Raiik noticed, Azrael would give him a nod in greeting, it was clear Azrael wished to greet him as well... when time presented itself.
OU812, quizzically, responding to Azrael: "Gond? Nimblewright? Does not compute. Parameters not defined. I am OU812. I am." The hulking mass scans Azrael up and down. Nodding his approval, he continues "You will do adequately. OU812 assigned for protective duty. OU812 protect you. Friend." Cracking a strange smile (you realize why the heck would a metallic monstrous beast such as this...smile?), he reaches into a small compartment on his side, pulls out a single gold coin, and drops it on the bar counter. Head swiveling towards the barkeep, he monotones "For my new friend here. Whatever libation he requires."
"Hey!" Durnan, the proprietor of The Yawning Portal shouts out, annoyed. "Robot! You owe me a bar stool and a door!"
WHY ARE WE HERE?
Obaya gathers everyone together. Azrael, OU812, Dani, Lythril, Alessandra, Grianne, and Raiik. You all sit around a table. Some of you she knows. The rest of you are new friends. She takes a moment to let you all settle in, looks you over with a warm smile, and proceeds to explain the reason why you are all here - the reason why you all have been chosen.
"Where Waterdeep stands today, there once stood Aelinthaldaar, the capital city of the ancient elven kingdom of Illefarn.
"When the elves left, they used a powerful spell to erase all traces of their capital. This spell had the unintended side effect of creating a permanent knot in the Weave, the fabric through which all magic is channeled."
"This knot lies deep underground and isn’t something that can be seen, felt, or undone, but it can cause madness to bloom in the minds of mortal beings who dwell near it for too long. The knot permeates Undermountain, and the madness it causes typically manifests as an obsession with the dungeon itself. Those affected by the knot in the Weave exhibit a.. subconscious desire..to remain in or near the dungeon. I believe you all, with the exception of our new robotic friend here, are exhibiting the first symptoms of this phenomena."
"Halaster and several of his apprentices fell prey to this obsession, as did Durnan, the proprietor of the Yawning Portal. Not all creatures that dwell in Undermountain succumb to its madness, and those who do aren’t even aware that the dungeon has them in its clutches. There is a great evil in the lowest depths Undermountain, and it is growing in power, and it must be stopped. If left unchecked, this evil could spread to all of Faerun. I have been sent here to find suitable adventurers capable of this tremendous task."
The doorway to the Yawning Portal slams open with such gusto, it’s easily ripped off its hinges and flies across the room, only to fall like a fall leaf down the gaping maw in the center of the tavern floor. Barely squeezing through the doorway, having to duck down to fit, marches in a GIGANTIC metallic beast holding a letter in one hand. Stopping in the entryway, it’s head swivels from side to side, scanning the entire tavern. The music has stopped, and all eyes in the tavern are gazing up at the emotionless humanoid, their mouths agape in awe. Upon seeing the barkeep, it noisily marches over to the bar and hands her the letter. Taking a barstool seat, it attempts to sit down, only to easily crush the wood of the chair into thousands of pieces from its substantial weight.
Raiik looks over at the door flying through the air and watches it fall harmlessly. He looks the machiene up and down with caution as it approaches the bar right next to his stool. As it attempts to sit, Raiik can't help but let out a bit of a snort as the chair splinters underneath it. Hmmmm. It seems harmless.
Raiik continues to look around the room and locks eyes with a formidible blue Dragonborn. Creatures of extremes, Dragonborn are. Either overly good or... overly bad. No grey area in my experience. If it wasn't the well it's self and the Dragonborn which peaked Raiik's interest, it was the exposed 11/10 cleavage of the socially exquisite Dwarf which was giving out free hugs. I shouldn't be thinking that way, but... I'm out of the halls of the Order now. As Master Rhee used to say, you gotta enjoy the little things.Raiik pushes his empty tankard to the barkeep's side of the bar and stands to his full height. Rolling his neck from left shoulder to his right, it lets out a loud crack as he approaches the portal. He nods back to the Dragonborn and is about to offer his hand for a greeting, but a small, interesting individual begins to greet everyone who happens to be around the well...
Obaya gathers everyone together. Azrael, OU812, Dani, Lythril, Alessandra, Grianne, and Raiik. You all sit around a table. Some of you she knows. The rest of you are new friends. She takes a moment to let you all settle in, looks you over with a warm smile, and proceeds to explain the reason why you are all here - the reason why you all have been chosen.
"Halaster and several of his apprentices fell prey to this obsession, as did Durnan, the proprietor of the Yawning Portal. Not all creatures that dwell in Undermountain succumb to its madness, and those who do aren’t even aware that the dungeon has them in its clutches. There is a great evil in the lowest depths Undermountain, and it is growing in power, and it must be stopped. If left unchecked, this evil could spread to all of Faerun. I have been sent here to find suitable adventurers capable of this tremendous task."
So. This is why I have been summoned here. Raiik thinks to himself. "What is the nature of this evil?" he asks. "Flesh, or force? Either way, I, Raiik of Helm, must take on this challenge."
Alessandra sat awkwardly at the table, not too fond of being in such close proximity to strangers, but she knew she had to get over it soon enough. Even though she preferred to work alone, the little she knew about the Undermoutain, she understood why Obaya had chosen so many of them to go down. These people would be her team for the time being and she needed to learn to accept that. In due time.
"Um," She finally spoke, low, but just loud enough for the table to hear. "We shouldn't go blind. Would Durnan be willing to tell us about what he’s seen down there? Or, ah, anyone else?"
Aeydof the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\
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BEGINNING THIS SUNDAY NIGHT!
DUNGEON OF THE MAD MAGE
In the city of Waterdeep rests a tavern called the Yawning Portal, named after the gaping pit in its common room. At the bottom of this crumbling shaft is a labyrinthine dungeon shunned by all but the most daring adventurers. Known as Undermountain, this dungeon is the domain of the mad wizard Halaster Blackcloak. Long has the Mad Mage dwelt in these forlorn depths, seeding his lair with monsters, traps, and mysteries—to what end is a constant source of speculation and concern.
PROLOGUE
More than one thousand years ago, the wizard Halaster Blackcloak journeyed from a distant land to the base of Mount Waterdeep, perhaps acceding to the whispered summons of providence. Some believe he hailed from the nearly forgotten empire known as the Cradlelands Others give Halaster less ancient origins, placing him among the early wizards of Netheril, or asserting that he came from a southern nation long since buried by sand and time. Whatever his origin, scholars have recorded that Halaster brought with him seven apprentices to Mount Waterdeep. This is common knowledge.
With the Seven guarding his back, Halaster tapped into his immense power to summon beings from other planes of existence to help him build a wizard’s tower to dwarf all other wizard’s towers. During the time Halaster was underground, his magnificent tower and its surrounding walls fell into ruin. In time, the city now known as Waterdeep developed in the shadow of Mount Waterdeep and spread down to the harbor. As the city sprawled outward over the years, it came to surround the ruins of Halaster’s home. Undermountain was known to those early settlers, and they often sent criminals into its endless depths as punishment.
So it was for many years, until an intrepid adventurer named Durnan delved into the labyrinth beneath the tower and returned alive, laden with riches and countless harrowing tales. Durnan used his new fortune to demolish the remnants of Halaster’s tower and built an inn over the well he had used to descend into Undermountain, and call it the Yawning Portal. Durnan owns and operates the inn and tavern to this day, serving patrons and inviting the brave and foolish alike to test their mettle in the Dungeon of the Mad Mage.
THE OTHER DAY
The greatest journey of your life began on a day like any other. It started with a note - a summons. For reasons of your own, you are drawn to this place. It is called Undermountain. You feel like this will be the most important adventure of your life, should you survive. There is something down below in Undermountain. You can't quite put your finger on it. You've heard the tales about the place, and how it came to be, but that was a long time ago. Each of you have a journey - a reason - that leads down there. Each of you are prepared to face the depths.
Some of you are new. Some of you are old, reuniting with friends from the past. But, let’s get more specific. On to our first task.
TASK #1 DUE ANYTIME BY SUNDAY NIGHT.
INTRODUCTIONS, WHO AND WHY?
Who are you? Why are you here? If you are returning, elaborate on what you have been doing since Heist up to the point of your mysterious summoning. If you are new, tell us your story before getting your summons. Feel free to mingle until the adventure starts Sunday evening.
GAME DETAILS: (THE PORTAL, QUESTS, AND UNDERMOUNTAIN SECRETS)
This adventure will be a level by level dungeon crawl. There are about 20 levels to explore. Each time you find the entrance to the next level deeper into Undermountain, you will gain a level of experience. There are PLENTY of things to do each level of Undermountain, so don’t worry. You can enter and exit the dungeon through The Yawning Portal. There will be many things to see, explore, interact with, and fight, and listed below are some quests you guys can take and complete if you want to.
THE YAWNING PORTAL
The Yawning Portal, a famous inn and tavern located near the eastern slope of Mount Waterdeep, derives its name from a 40-foot-diameter well that descends into the first level of Undermountain. Located in the center of the taproom, the well was once the outer shell of Halaster’s mighty tower, which was demolished long ago. Its sheer walls are made of old mortared stones. Next to this gaping orifice hangs a winch with a simple rope-and-pulley mechanism that Durnan, the proprietor, uses to lower adventurers down the shaft and (sometimes) pull them up again. Durnan controls the winch himself and will transport only one adventurer at a time. The walls of the well are crumbly but have abundant handholds and footholds. They can be scaled without climbing gear with a successful DC 15 Strength (Athletics) check. No check is needed to enter Undermountain by using the rope-and-pulley system.
QUESTS
"The Hunt for Magic Items and Spellbooks"
Obaya Uday, a Chultan priest of Waukeen, The God of Trade, has traveled from the distant city of Port Nyanzaru on behalf of a wizard named Wakanga O’tamu to procure magic items from Waterdeep. When she learned about Undermountain, Obaya booked a room at the Yawning Portal in the hope of hiring adventurers to plunder the dungeon of its magical riches. Some of you may know her.
Obaya approaches any interested adventurer and offers to pay for any unwanted magic items you find in Undermountain. Obaya has secured her funds in Waterdavian banks and can pay handsomely within a matter of hours for any magic items any of you bring to her. The amount she’s willing to pay is based on the item’s rarity, as shown below, and is nonnegotiable. She always pays in platinum pieces for ease of transport. Common = 10pp Uncommon = 50pp Rare = 500pp Very Rare = 5000pp
Obaya is also interested in buying spellbooks for Wakanga O’tamu. She prices a spellbook based on the highest-level spell contained in it: 5 pp for 1st level, 25 pp for 2nd or 3rd level, 100 pp for 4th or 5th level, 250 pp for 6th or 7th level, and 500 pp for 8th or 9th level.
"Pay A Harper Debt"
A bard named Mattrim Mereg, known as Threestrings to his friends, plays a three-stringed lute at the Yawning Portal almost regularly. Some of you may know him. Mattrim needs a pouch of gold delivered to a female half-drow named Cal’al Claddani, who runs a tavern called the Flagon and the Dragon in Skullport. Cal’al provided shelter and healing to a wounded Harper spy in Skullport and is owed payment for her support. Mattrim’s pouch contains three moonstones worth 50 gp each. If any of you choose to take on this quest, once you deliver the pouch, you can take refuge in a Harper hideout called Dalagor’s Fortress, located on the uppermost level of Skullport. Mattrim tells the characters that a dragonborn mage named Felrax guards the place.
"Search for Kressando Rosznar"
A young noblewoman, Esvele Rosznar has been frequenting the Yawning Portal on busy evenings, keeping mostly to herself while sipping zzar and listening to gossip. Her family has a tarnished reputation, having once been banished from Waterdeep for slavery and other illegal acts. Although the Rosznar family is trying to regain its integrity and standing, several bad apples threaten to impede that progress with their sinister ventures. Esvele’s brother, Kressando, was sent to Skullport to conduct secret meetings with the Xanathar Guild and gauge interest in setting up a slave trade in Skullport, far from the eyes of Waterdavian authorities. Esvele didn’t learn of this meeting until after Kressando vanished, and she is determined to stop his scheming and see him returned to Waterdeep before he can further tarnish the Rosznar name.
If you choose to take on this quest, Esvele asks you to keep an eye out for Kressando, a 22-year-old man with fair skin and dark curly hair, trained in the arts of stealth and thievery. She also tells you that Kressando wears a platinum signet ring bearing the Rosznar family crest (a diving white falcon on a field of blue) and an inscription of the family motto (“Fly high and stoop swift”). She promises that if you can facilitate Kressando’s safe return or deliver proof of his whereabouts to Esvele, she will owe them a favor, adding that “You can trust in House Rosznar." There will also be a new quest after this.
"Throne of the Coronal"
Volothamp Geddarm, famous explorer and raconteur, offers to buy you guys a round of drinks to celebrate their upcoming expedition into the Dungeon of the Mad Mage. Injected into the conversation is the following tale:
"This story dates to the fall of Illefarn, an elven kingdom of the North. An alabaster throne belonging to Syglaeth Audark, the last coronal of Illefarn, disappeared from the capital city of Aelinthaldaar, where the Mad Mage built his tower and today stands Waterdeep. It’s said that a group of dwarves feared the destruction of such a miraculous work of stonecraft and stole the throne right out from under the elves’ slender noses. Where the dwarves hid it for so long, who knows? But should you find it in Undermountain, it would please the elves of the North to know it survives. If you find any information on the throne, return to me for a hefty reward."
UNDERMOUNTAIN SECRETS
Any character who spends at least four hours in the Yawning Portal is likely to overhear tall tales about the Mad Mage and his dungeon. Not all rumors are to be believed, however, and all of you need keen ears and sharp insight to determine which stories have weight. Each four hours you spend in the Yawning Portal, you can make one DC 20 Intelligence (Investigation) check or Wisdom (Insight) check. If the check succeeds, you learn a secret about Undermountain, and I will PM you the information you learned.
THUS BEGINS THE TALE OF THE DUNGEON OF THE MAD MAGE
(You may post at your leisure! See you all Sunday night!)
Raiik is a half orc Paladin, whose looks favour his mother's human side. He has never met his father- an apparent warlord of a waste desert clan. His mother, Lani was defeated attempting to overthrow Raiik's father in her early days as a Paladin of Helm and was taken prisoner. She was kept as the warlord's personal slave until she managed to escape, giving birth to Raiik months later.
Raiik was brought up with lawful good tenancies and was accepted in to his mother's Paladin order, commanded by Lord Belmont. He would help maintain weapons, move heavy equipment and pack tents on expeditions. On one such adventure, a small team of Paladins sought shelter in a Monk temple where Raiik met Master Zurl-Rhee. His way of the fist enthralled Raiik, and he often ventured back to the temple for more teachings. In his teens, he eventually lived there, training directly under Rhee. He learnt magical aspects of ki and meditation allowed him to communicate with his faith more strongly.
Raiik returned to the Order of Helm after years, where he was now of age to initiate training as a Paladin. All the other recruits found Raiik's fighting style interesting, and fearsome. Whereas most used weapons and shields, Raiik only used his fists, as the way Rhee taught him. Fueled by wanting to avenge his mother's time in the orc camp, Raiik hunted the tribe as his initiation quest. After finding the tribe and the leader found out he was his son, agreed to single combat. Raiik slew his father and while covered in his blood, he felt nothing but a rage towards more beings of evil.
Upon his return, Raiik was initiated and gifted armour of Helm- custom made for his style. Not clad in iron, but a breastplate with a large shoulder guard to allow freedom of movement. He received note of Undermountain and ventures here to continue his story.
We see Raiik, donned in matching gauntlets and shin guarded boots hunched over the bar with a tankard of whiskey. His olive skin is leathery and sun touched, from hours of training outdoors. He is looking around, taking in the crowd and keeping an eye out for any interesting individuals.
"CoS" Rumble- Tabaxi Shadow Monk
At some point in the day a small black cat, wit ha slight green shimmer and multicolored swirl patterns on its paws, stalks into the yawning portal. With a practiced ease it slips through the shadows and up into the rafters. It makes its way up to the bar and drops down. What falls from up above is not a black cat but a woman. An elven girl with a pale brownish skin tone and black hair appears in place of the cat. She stands a 5'11"and has dazzling emerald eyes. She wears a..coat...robe...outfit made of living plants woven together with plans of iron hard bark. Small vines sprout through her hair creating a myriad of accessories and giving it an almost loose deadlock style accented with a large eagle feather. She holds a gnarled oak staff and a wooden shield slung on her back. She is barefoot and has a multicolored tattoo on her hands.
Despite her grand entrance she speaks in a small meek voice. In elvish she speaks *Elvish* Hello, is this the yawning portal?*Elvish*
Grianne Wildpaw: Wood Elf Druid level 12 (8W-4L)- - Coliseum of Conquest: Master of Faerie Fire. Just don't ask her to spell it.
Grianne Wildpaw: Wood Elf Druid level 6 (2W-1L)- - Coliseum Reborn : Master of a Myriad of forms.
Runt, the Stormchosen: Half-Orc barbarian level 5 -- The Guild
Tomoe Gozen: Human Fighter Samurai level 5 -- Cronero (Solo Campaign)
Startling an elven barmaid as you leap down, she answers you in your native tongue, "Why, yes! Welcome!" She does a quick double take to look at you and the ceiling.
This adventure will begin a little differently, for you are all here for your own personal reasons as to why you're exploring Undermountain. Lets see how the introductions progress.
[Using another image for inspiration, but I haven’t had a chance tofinish him off yet, dunno if I will, but here’s what I have so far.]
"CoS" Rumble- Tabaxi Shadow Monk
Lythril, spends a few (how long do we have to hang out before this thing kicks off? hours? days?) having discussions with her friend Obaya and her other friends from the Dragon. It's interesting to watch who goes into the portal and what comes out. Fortunately, it's mostly adventurers in one or more mostly whole parts. She gladly helps patch them back together frequently giving extra hugs for encouragement.
She is eager to discover what new quests await and to find out who had sent the mysterious missive. She is a...mostly patient woman and enjoys taking in the view while waiting and talking to other patrons. The appearance of a green elf girl piques a particular interest in her eye, must be the plants.
Insight check 5
Investigation check 13
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Danitriel waltzed into the Yawning portal with a grin. One of the frivolous purchases she had made with her share of the money was a season ticket to the women's division of the Waterdhavian Combat League in the Sea Ward's stadium known as the Field of Triumph. There had been a spirited match between reigning Women's Champion Triss Skyheart and best-friend-turned-rival Jamie Mikkelson and a grand time had been had by all, or at least most, in the audience.
Ordering an ale from -and also flirting with- a pretty barmaid, Dani had a whispered conversation with the bard known as Threestrings. She looked around and spotted Lythril causing her to stride in that direction.
Danitriel was as usual dressed fancily, her white blouse shimmered as threads of spun silver caught the light. Over it was a navy blue vest with crescent moons embroidered in silver thread and buttery soft black leather pants that hugged her curves. The outer third of the trousers were cut away on either side to be held together and decorated with fancy laces. These were tucked into knee-high boots of dark blue suede and the outfit was topped of with a wide-brimmed hat that matched the boots and was decorated with a yellow, orange and red sunpeacock feather.
"Well hello there." She said to Lythril in greeting as she slid gracefully into a chair.
(Will be posting after I get my car out of the shop, then passing out.)
Occassional Dungeon Master.
(Afro that drawing is sick!)
Lythril: You have enough time to do whatever you'd like before the group heads into the portal. Your good friend Obaya specifically mentions to you, that if you're going into the portal to explore Undermountain, to take on her quest and get paid for magic items you might find and bring back to her. The green elf girl you notice is indeed very beautiful in a natural sort of way, and many drunk customers "pretend" to be wounded adventurers to receive your special hugs. You notice that the green elf girl and Dani are looking and observing the portal as well with a fascinated interest, as if they, too, have received a calling to explore it.
Raiik: It dosen't take much to realize that an attractive stout powerhouse of a female dwarf is giving out hugs to wounded adventurers, healing them. In between heals she seems drawn to the portal. As does that green elf girl, and that female half elf over there. She's flirting with a barmaid, but her attention is more towards the portal as well. What coincidental behavior. She glided over to talk to the dwarf girl. My, she knows how to dress, that's for sure.
All of you: Despite your interactions and activities, you are drawn to the portal. It's like..something is tugging at your spirit, you can't seem to focus away from it.
Alessandra was not someone who would stick around in cities like Waterdeep for too long, having only come to pick up some supplies to continue her journey and be on her way, but upon finding herself in the Church of Waukeen late at night due to some unknown force, she found herself at a crossroads. When given the invitation from the priestess, she expected herself to throw it away and move on, but something was telling her to read it. It was a promising proposition and perhaps she could find what she was looking for in the depths of the Undermountain. She should leave and get out of this town, but, when she looked down at the opened envelope in her pale hands, her gut was telling her to stop running and heed to the call. Go.
And she did.
She managed to find herself at the front door of the Yawning Portal, keeping her black robes tightly wrapped around her form before opening it. She wasn't one to go to bars (not anymore, too many memories), but this was the meeting point if she read the letter correctly. With her head low to avoid any unnecessary gazes, she heads straight to the corner of the bar and sits on a stool to observe all the other patrons that were already there.
Her eyes automatically locked onto a beautiful elven woman who definitely had quite a bit of coin on her, talking to, who she assumed, was a close dwarven friend. Among scanning again, there was another elf, but clothed in... leaves? City folk were quite strange, but she did have gorgeous sparkling green eyes. Finally, so far when looking for any particular individuals, she finished with the orc looming over a large tankard.
If she ever prayed to a God, she would hope they were not the people she would be working with. What a rag-tag team of... A brute, a snobby elf, a woman pretending to be a tree, a very affectionate dwarf... So far...
Perhaps I shouldn't have come here.
And eventually, without her robe:
Her eyes are white as well c:
Aeyd of the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk
Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm
Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid
Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue
Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm
/ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\
(WOW, she's beautiful!)
DID YOU..GET A MESSAGE TOO?
At one point during the evening, as you all go along your business in the tavern, something happens. All of you, as if this was a sign from some unseen force toying with you like a puppet with strings, notice each other standing, sitting, or near the portal - looking into it. Looking into it as if you had a purpose. A NEED to go in there. It wasn't just the note now. Something inside you is..pulling you..into it.
This can't be a mere coincidence. You notice that whoever you look at, weather the half-orc brute, the snobby elf, the leaf elf, the dwarf with the amazing breasts..you all feel a moment of connection. As if everyone had the same thought:
You got a message, too?
It was at that moment Obaya - the visiting Chultan priest of Waukeen - walked up to you all, for sure knew "the look" and said, "You feel the pull. Don't you, my friends?"
WHY ARE WE HERE?
(Coming soon!!)
A month ago
Felix and his younger brother, Teddy, were grumbling to each other as they lazily dug around the rock sticking up right in the middle of father’s row of corn stalks. “Why does he always make us do his dirty work? It’s not fair!” Felix exclaimed with disgust to Teddy. “Right! I wanna go fishin’ instead” Teddy tiredly responded. They continued to labor on for another hour, grumbling the entire time, while digging a trench around and under the boulder. After what seemed like hours, the trench was deep enough that the boulder finally slumped and rolled to the side. With glee, Felix gave Teddy a high five. Hooting and hollering at their minor accomplishment, they threw their shovels down into the growing dirt pile next to the boulder, and Teddy ran off to the barn to fetch Patches, their ragged and scrawny mule, as well as a rope. Felix slumped down on the dirt pile, taking a breather while Teddy went to get help. Lazily picking up a handful of pebbles, he began throwing them one by one into the recently dug hole. The third stone made a strange pinging noise when it hit the bottom of the hole. “What the heck?!” Felix quietly swore under his breath. Tiredly getting back up on his feet, he hopped down into the hole, got down on his hands and knees, and started to push away the loose dirt. Quickly, a metal plate revealed itself, tarnished but featuring a faded patina of black paint.
Excitedly, Felix rapidly continued to shove the loose dirt at the bottom of the hole away, soon revealing a metallic head. Then shoulders. HUGE shoulders. Digging down a foot further, Felix began to soon realize that what he was uncovering was the gigantic body of some huge, metallic humanoid.
Screaming at the top of his lungs, “FATHER! FAAAAATTTTTHHHHHHHHEEEEERRRRRRR! Come quick!”
The next day
It took the boys and father all afternoon to fully dig out the entire metallic beast, and using Patches, pull the contraption out of the hole and drag it back to the barn. Father sent Felix into Waterdeep, riding the tired out Patches, to fetch the county Cleric. Later that evening, when the Cleric and his retinue arrived, Felix and Teddy gleefully showed off their find. Gasping with shock (and terror), the Cleric stumbled backwards when father pulled the tarp off of the beast. Quickly signing the cross, the Cleric mumbled to himself, “God help us...” before quickly retreating out of the barn, rapidly mounting his mule, and departing the farmstead with haste.
The next morning, the Cleric arrived at sunrise, this time with a wizard in tow. Grinning broadly, the wizened wizard muttered to himself in a strange language unknown to all in attendance, as he spent the next hour inspecting the metallic beast.
Finally calling everyone over, he cleared his throat, and excitedly announced to the gathering crowd “THIS, my friends, is a warforged! Thousands of years old. Hmmm. Yes. Very ancient. I’ve heard rumors of their existence, but never thought they were true.”
Teddy: “A war-torged? Wuts dat?!”
Wizard, slowly: “A warforged. An ancient beast, bred for one thing and one thing only. Killing.”
The silence was palpable as the group of onlookers stumbled backwards, many falling on their butts in shock.
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
Today
Astrid received the letter of summons, as had the rest of the tavern owners. “Oh piffle. Not THAT place again! No way am I going there, and getting my stunning new outfit dirty. Good gawd, no. I just don’t have the time to deal with those riff raff. No sir-re-bob!”
Over breakfast oats and eggs, Astrid lazily complained about the summons to Nim. “I just can’t be bothered with that place. I’m thinking about just ignoring that summons.” Nim, in halting but improving Common: “That is inadvisable, ma’am. The Waterdeep Town Council is very particular in their demands. If you do not respond to the summons, I believe they would report you to the authorities. PLEASE, I do not wish to have them send Detective Crispy again. Recall what she did to the new gaming tables last time she showed up on our doorstep?! Perhaps, if I may, I have another idea. I’ve heard rumors of a new beast for hire. I suggest hiring this metal humanoid to be your stand in?”
This afternoon
The doorway to the Yawning Portal slams open with such gusto, it’s easily ripped off its hinges and flies across the room, only to fall like a fall leaf down the gaping maw in the center of the tavern floor. Barely squeezing through the doorway, having to duck down to fit, marches in a GIGANTIC metallic beast holding a letter in one hand. Stopping in the entryway, it’s head swivels from side to side, scanning the entire tavern. The music has stopped, and all eyes in the tavern are gazing up at the emotionless humanoid, their mouths agape in awe. Upon seeing the barkeep, it noisily marches over to the bar and hands her the letter. Taking a barstool seat, it attempts to sit down, only to easily crush the wood of the chair into thousands of pieces from its substantial weight.
In a robotic, monotone voice, it announces to the barkeep, “OU812 reporting for duty. This letter requests a summons for Astrid Holmes. I am OU812. I am reporting in place of Ms. Holmes.”
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
(posting now)
Occassional Dungeon Master.
Earlier
Azrael had been amidst his routine prayers with his hundred-odd faithful followers, all worshiping Bahamut, he has another vision... and Azrael knew to follow it without question. He would make sure to finish his duties first, which would likely make him late.. again, for the meeting with Obaya. Azraels followers were quieter than you would expect, even in their fervor, to respect the patrons above. Occasionally one patron or another would wander down, as Azrael allowed them to. Some would ask questions, others would come down for the novelty, and othertimes, Azrael would gain a new Acolyte for Bahamuts Justice. Azrael's brand of faith was similar to the retribution paladin. Vengeance for the weak, destruction to the wicked and all who aided them. This very reason was why his faith grew so fast (Aside from the fact Bahamut had shown favor to him, which spread the word initially, and became somewhat mythical to far off travelers, attracting them to the city. As many of the downtrodden sough revenge against those who had hurt them, or their family, and here they could find both peace, and power to smite those who wielded power for the sake of power. Obviously there were occasionally bad apples that had to be 'dealt with' but they were quelled, one way or another.
Pheral, now nearly ready to give birth, still insisted on running the tavern, and Azrael was confident she could handle it. Pheral didn't come down often or really ever observe the Faith, but that was fine with Azrael. Everyone had choices to make. The fact she stuck with him despite it.. or perhaps because of it, they shared a wonderful relationship, where both had plenty of personal space, yet they almost never missed a night of fun together, until the last three months or so, where it was relegated to cuddling at most, for obvious reasons. Azrael had never told Pherals secret, as he felt that if she wished to share it, that was her prerogotive. Ever since Azraels acquisition of the airship, when he wasn't using it for duties to Bahamut, it was used more generally, for shopping, getting around, and transport in general. Azrael could Pilot it himself after the lessons he had paid for, using his magic to compensate for the lack of crew.
Azrael maintained contact with his friend from the city watch, and had told him everything. Everything. that had gone down, short of the fortune thye had made... though thanks to a certain rabid squirrel, that info was leaked, but Azrael never accused her. Azrael would always keep his friend up to date on whatever cults he and his followers found, gangs, and other such things. Azrael felt no reason to hide it and Waterdeep became safer for it. Azrael was truly making change in the city, a little at a time. Though the largest, most powerful gangs still existed in their full capacity, he hurt them where he could.
(Jalaster?)
----------------------
Current
A deep shadow settled over the tavern, if it wasn't already night, it would seem as though night had descended on the Yawning Portal. Heavy engines revving above were audible, as soft winds fell over the roof of it. Azrael would speak to Nim, having already taught Nim how to fly it as well, though it came naturally to Nim, and Nim required no magic to do what Azrael could. He descended the long, rope ladder, dropping down to the ground, before the rope magically went back up. That signalling Nim to take the ship back home, to their own Tavern. Azrael hadn't been here in months, other than to meet with his friend on occasion, but never needed to actually 'be' here until now. Azrael noted that one of the doors to the portal seemed to be Missing, causing him to cant his head as he entered. Inside, Azrael saw the usual suspects, as well as some new faces, and old friends.
Hail Lythril! ...... Danitriel....... Azrael had heard through Astrids never-closing maw, how Dani 'felt' about his faith and attitude towards it, and that had put a sour note between the pair. Not enough to cause a rift, but Azrael let the wound exist, instead of trying to heal it. And it was obvious as he seemed to look past her as soon as he acknowledged her existence. Azrael had grown a little closer to Lythril, atleast in 'his' opinion, as he greeted her with a ruffle of her hair with his large hand. He had begun actively discouraging her particular brand of 'healing' on him whenever it was necessary, as he felt it would be tantamount to cheating on Pheral in some sense, but still welcomed her healing hands when needed.
Azrael took another look around the bar, and he spotted the half-Orc, who looked well-built, and ready for combat.. He wanted to meet this person.. Something about him felt... kindred, but Azrael could not place it.. Btut Azrael felt he wanted to know this person.. but before he could act on it, he saw the Warforged and his eyes grew wide, approaching it, he would walk to its fore, and motion a greeting of his faith before saying Are you of the temple of Gond? A new form of Nimblewright? Or something entirely different altogether? My name is Azrael Zifandiel, Head Acolyte of Bahamut in the city of Waterdeep, it is my pleasure to make your aquaintence....... he stopped there, leaving it in the air for the Machine to introduce itself, if it could, having just missed the machines greeting minutes before.
Azraels eyes were still on Raiik to some degree, and if Raiik noticed, Azrael would give him a nod in greeting, it was clear Azrael wished to greet him as well... when time presented itself.
Occassional Dungeon Master.
OU812, quizzically, responding to Azrael: "Gond? Nimblewright? Does not compute. Parameters not defined. I am OU812. I am." The hulking mass scans Azrael up and down. Nodding his approval, he continues "You will do adequately. OU812 assigned for protective duty. OU812 protect you. Friend." Cracking a strange smile (you realize why the heck would a metallic monstrous beast such as this...smile?), he reaches into a small compartment on his side, pulls out a single gold coin, and drops it on the bar counter. Head swiveling towards the barkeep, he monotones "For my new friend here. Whatever libation he requires."
Last to know and first to be blamed...
As a free action, can I regret my life choices?
"Hey!" Durnan, the proprietor of The Yawning Portal shouts out, annoyed. "Robot! You owe me a bar stool and a door!"
WHY ARE WE HERE?
Obaya gathers everyone together. Azrael, OU812, Dani, Lythril, Alessandra, Grianne, and Raiik. You all sit around a table. Some of you she knows. The rest of you are new friends. She takes a moment to let you all settle in, looks you over with a warm smile, and proceeds to explain the reason why you are all here - the reason why you all have been chosen.
"Where Waterdeep stands today, there once stood Aelinthaldaar, the capital city of the ancient elven kingdom of Illefarn.
"When the elves left, they used a powerful spell to erase all traces of their capital. This spell had the unintended side effect of creating a permanent knot in the Weave, the fabric through which all magic is channeled."
"This knot lies deep underground and isn’t something that can be seen, felt, or undone, but it can cause madness to bloom in the minds of mortal beings who dwell near it for too long. The knot permeates Undermountain, and the madness it causes typically manifests as an obsession with the dungeon itself. Those affected by the knot in the Weave exhibit a.. subconscious desire..to remain in or near the dungeon. I believe you all, with the exception of our new robotic friend here, are exhibiting the first symptoms of this phenomena."
"Halaster and several of his apprentices fell prey to this obsession, as did Durnan, the proprietor of the Yawning Portal. Not all creatures that dwell in Undermountain succumb to its madness, and those who do aren’t even aware that the dungeon has them in its clutches. There is a great evil in the lowest depths Undermountain, and it is growing in power, and it must be stopped. If left unchecked, this evil could spread to all of Faerun. I have been sent here to find suitable adventurers capable of this tremendous task."
Raiik looks over at the door flying through the air and watches it fall harmlessly. He looks the machiene up and down with caution as it approaches the bar right next to his stool.
As it attempts to sit, Raiik can't help but let out a bit of a snort as the chair splinters underneath it. Hmmmm. It seems harmless.
Raiik continues to look around the room and locks eyes with a formidible blue Dragonborn. Creatures of extremes, Dragonborn are. Either overly good or... overly bad. No grey area in my experience. If it wasn't the well it's self and the Dragonborn which peaked Raiik's interest, it was the exposed 11/10 cleavage of the socially exquisite Dwarf which was giving out free hugs. I shouldn't be thinking that way, but... I'm out of the halls of the Order now. As Master Rhee used to say, you gotta enjoy the little things. Raiik pushes his empty tankard to the barkeep's side of the bar and stands to his full height. Rolling his neck from left shoulder to his right, it lets out a loud crack as he approaches the portal. He nods back to the Dragonborn and is about to offer his hand for a greeting, but a small, interesting individual begins to greet everyone who happens to be around the well...
So. This is why I have been summoned here. Raiik thinks to himself. "What is the nature of this evil?" he asks. "Flesh, or force? Either way, I, Raiik of Helm, must take on this challenge."
"CoS" Rumble- Tabaxi Shadow Monk
Alessandra sat awkwardly at the table, not too fond of being in such close proximity to strangers, but she knew she had to get over it soon enough. Even though she preferred to work alone, the little she knew about the Undermoutain, she understood why Obaya had chosen so many of them to go down. These people would be her team for the time being and she needed to learn to accept that. In due time.
"Um," She finally spoke, low, but just loud enough for the table to hear. "We shouldn't go blind. Would Durnan be willing to tell us about what he’s seen down there? Or, ah, anyone else?"
Aeyd of the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk
Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm
Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid
Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue
Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm
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