Pascal holds back no details

Meanwhile, Pascal turns to Volo, “Well, Mr. Volo, that depends on one thing for me. Can you get ol’ Hildi here into that Candledeep place? You do that, and you got my help.”

Drusk thinks of what he learned about Waukeen during his acolyte studies. "Good to meet you, Obaya. From what I remember, Waukeen and Lliira were best of buddies. I hope that if I need clerical aids, that I could turn to you for advice and assistance. (I haven't been able to find a decent temple to Lliira in the city.) Likewise, if you would like a hand with something, please let me know."

To Ilena: "Nice to meet another person with a church upbringing. The followers of Tyr have a good reputation. I'm sure your monastic elders would be smiling at the way you defended the customers here from that plague of bat-squitos."

Drusk is pulled aside by two of the magisters. They have a chat on the side, which can't be overheard. One of the magisters starts to get red-faced, but her partner steps in before she erupts on Drusk. Drusk goes to shake their hands, but the angry magister marches away to vent on some of the seedier customers, who haven't been debriefed yet... Drusk returns to the table, and starts snacking on the food that arrived.

To Drusk: “Gratitude for your kind words, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Though, to be perfectly honest, I am a bit embarrassed at the way I handled myself in my first real fight. I suppose it’s too be expected though... Master Drusk, would you be kind enough to tell me about Lliira? I haven’t read much about her I’m afraid.”

To Ilena: "No need to be embarrassed. Tyr is about valor and helping the unfortunate. Who was most inspiring? Someone like you, wounded, in peril, but standing firm in front of that helpless family? Or a gourd-headed idiot who waits until the Troll is busy with Jorin and Pascal, attacks the troll from behind, then walks on top of the dying? I know who I would pick.

"I could talk about Lliira all night, but I should keep it short so you can concentrate on getting better... She is the Elven Lady of celebrations, joy, and wealth. (Although I guess the "wealth" was shared with Waukeen, so most people emphasize the "joy".) Some followers believe that violence should be avoided at her festivals. Wiser followers like myself" (flashes crooked teeth of the half-orc smile) "find joy in striking down the dour. That is why I like to introduce angry enemies to Joybringer." (He pats the top of the mace by his side. The top has yellow paint forming a smiley-face, although it is partly stained by blood from old battles.)

Jorin replies to Ilena, "Cloistered in a monastery?  That sounds a bit like life on a leash, which would be a life most unappealing to the Bodt." He says this in a jovial way, more as a way to contrast different ideas of how to best experience life than any sort of derision on her upbringing.  "The Bodt are from the Frost Hills, we live high in the mountains where life must be hacked out of the mountain rock itself.  So you see, when we get the chance to try new things, we jump at it!  I am traveling on my own for a few years, on K'harn, in our tounge, in common that translates roughly to 'World Eating'.  You know, taking in the sights, eating and drinking many things, and of course, swinging our axes."  

He says this with a great smile, for a moment, the smile fades as he brings a hand to chin before adding, "At the end of next year my K'harn will be over and I will return to my tribe, likely to never leave the village again, except for raiding.  I'll take up the mantle of Warsmith, pounding steel into blades sharp enough to cut threads.  I suppose that is not so different from your monastery life." He thinks for a moment, then nods his head, "Yes, not so different at all."

At the sight of the dried blood and miscellaneous stains on Drusk's mace, Ilena pales slightly. She pushes her mostly still full plate away from her gently but smiles and Drusk.

"She sounds like a fine matron goddess. I have to admit, I prefer to sort things out with words rather than violence, so my comrades sometimes seem a bit overzealous. Still, I'm not quite so naive as to think that the world can be rid of violence, or that it is never the solution. I can appreciate your perspective."

To Jorin; "It sounds as though you are on a pilgrimage of sorts as I am. And don't worry, though it certainly pales in comparison to the excitement of travel and adventure and seeing new sights and meeting new people, there's a certain peace and comfort in the routines of living in the monastery. I imagine you will find happiness, no matter where you wind up, you seem a man of great determination and spirit." She pats him on the arm.

When Volo approaches and has said his peace; "A friend of yours, in trouble? Of course, I will do my best to aid you and your friend."

OoC - Ilena's reply to Jorin made me smile irl

Jorin smiles warmly and inclines his head saying, "Yes, pilgrims, of a kind."

"Assuming everyone agrees to listen to this Bolo chap, hopefully it is a task for tomorrow. I used up all of my potent spells against that troll."

OOC: Here comes the late-comer. I'll try to plug in Hildi's participation.

Before taking a seat with the others, Hildigrim returns to his table in the corner to retrieve and stow his two books. He looks at Volo and sees the author is busy, so the halfling quietly joins Drusk, Jorin, Pascal and Ilena at the table, fidgeting a little as adrenaline is still coursing through his veins.

To the magisters, after listening to the others' accounts, Hildigrim doesn't have much to add. He's particularly interested in Ilena's long tale. When he sees her coughing what appears to be blood into her kerchief, he scowls. "I do wonder about the adventurers that descended into the undermountain this evening. Surely the mage is dead; the troll was clutching his severed arm as it ascended. But what of the others? Should a search party be sent down? They may be in need of medical attention that may save their lives. And the dead may have loved ones who should be notified."

After Obaya introduces herself and identifies her diety, Hildigrim scoffs, but doesn't say anything further. But after Ilena, Drusk and Jorin all fellowship in the glow of shared religious zealotry, he comments into his supper, "It seems to me the gods spend more time taking than bestowing." His tone of voice is not mean, belittling or angry; it is matter-of-fact. He looks at the three in turn. "Why anyone chooses to worship a being which limits their lives rather than expand it is beyond me. My studies have never told me what I needed to do. I have never been locked away in a monastery or told I have to go on a journey or told I would one day have to return to a life of solitude. I am free to do whatever I wish when I wish for as long as I wish. My only limitation is the law." He grins. "And even that can be bent from time to time ... if you're careful."

At that point, Volo approaches. :) After Pascal's comment to the author, Hildigrim stares at the lizardfolk with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. A couple heartbeats later, the rogue swallows and blinks. "Thank you, Pascal. ... It's Candlekeep," he corrects.

Pascal nods, “Ah, Candlekeep, right, right. Anyway, that’s my condition.”

Drusk laughs at Hildigrim's comments. "Limits their lives than expand it, that is a good one... With the way you have been fawning over this Volohamper person during our time here, I think you understand zealotry better than you think. Just think of deities as being fancy writers, but with insights from another plane of existence, and you already know why some people respond to that calling."

Pascal points a fork at Drusk and nods, “Yeah! I ‘member back in my home, lots o’ people worship the big lizard, Semuanya. He eats food. That’s pretty much it. Our culture is very consumption based.”

Ilena's stomach growls and she rolls her eyes and sheepishly pulls her plate back toward her. 

"You know, I didn't choose to grow up in the monastery, but I'm grateful to Tyr and to the monks. They raised me and gave me values and Masters Tiberius and Aldrich even brought me books from all over. I grew up speaking four languages, and learning about the gods and histories of Faerûn. For me it wasn't a prison, it was just... ah... you know... home." She picks at a mysterious piece of food with her fork, "And if it were not for this pilgrimage I wouldn't be sharing in such fine conversation nor company." She slaps the table with one hand as she stands and raises her cup and smiling broadly.

"To new friends! It matters not in whom you believe, moreso the company you keep!"

Pascal will toast to that, “And the life you live!”

(I would say that this seems the right time for Volo to butt in.)

OOC > The next thing that happens is this...

Then, when it seems all is finally done, you've been eating and getting to know Ilena, Volo comes over and clears his throat.

After Volo gives his introduction, Drusk encourages him to give more details of the mission: "When, where, what, and how much?"

The Party

The magisters question you all pretty lightly, and you all seem to be pretty forthcoming, so not much results. Everyone receives both a thank you and a warning to keep your weapons sheathed while in Waterdeep.

The food is good, maybe a bit rich for Ilena, maybe a bit unsophisticated for Pascal. Drusk has ponied up one of the three dragons for payment. (I may have missed other volunteers.)

You have gotten to know each other a little better, when (rewind!) Volo approaches the group hesitantly.

"Um, excuse me, Mistress Casquinha, Master Goodbody, and um, friends." He strokes his mustache nervously. "I, uh, I wonder if you might consider doing me a favor. It is just, that, well, I seem to have lost a friend of mine, and I fear for his safety. The Watch won't help, busy with the troubles, you know... and I hoped you could help. You seem like good sorts, and capable!" He pauses a moment, then, "I can, um, I can pay."

Pascal says, “Well, Mr. Volo, that depends on one thing for me. Can you get ol’ Hildi here into that Candledeep place? You do that, and you got my help.”

Hildigrim stares at the lizardfolk with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. A couple heartbeats later, the rogue swallows and blinks. "Thank you, Pascal. ... It's Candlekeep," he corrects.

Pascal nods, “Ah, Candlekeep, right, right. Anyway, that’s my condition.”

"Well, I do know some people... I may be able to approach about that great library." He puffs up a little. "You've heard of the great wizard, Elminster? Yes, a personal friend of mine, and, actually, as it turns out, the Warden of Waterdeep, commander of the City Guard. I could um, you know, see..."

"But this friend of mine, his name is Floon, Floon Blagmaar. He's got more beauty than brains, I'm afraid. I worry he took a bad way home two nights ago, and I fear he may have been kidnapped—or worse! Nobody's heard from him, and I came to the Yawning Portal looking for someone who could help. The gods have placed you here, in my time of need! I can give you each ten dragons, and, uh, ten times that when he is found!"

Drusk adds, "Hopefully it is a task for tomorrow. I used up all of my potent spells against that troll."

He looks at you, pathetically. "I am just so worried! If you would act in all haste, the Dock Ward is not a place to be lost for two days..." and his shoulders slump.

OOC > I would say so, too, by 30 seconds! :) Ill add these details so you guys can move the conversation along at your own pace...

After this intro, and urged on by Drusk, Volo gives a few more details.

"Well, um, we were out, um, enjoying the town, having a drink at the Skewered Dragon, in the Dock Ward. When I had my fill, Floon wished to stay a little longer, and I left him with new friends and... he was well. He was just having one last go at the Sava (this is a game of chance), and said he'd be on his way straight after. That is the last I saw of him."

(Volo is being a little unclear. Does he expect the party to check the Dock Ward right now, late at night when all reputable businesses are closed? Or is he encouraging the party to start as soon as possible in the morning?)

(Agreed.)

Volo takes a chair and sits, dejected. "I am just so worried, with the blood in the streets this past tenday, that some terrible fate has befallen him! Every moment is one more he may be lying in an alley somewhere. I could maybe find something more to recompense your immediate efforts..?" He takes out a small pouch that clinks when he places it on the table, "It is all I have... um, at the moment. There are," and he lowers his voice, "Fifty dragons in there. Would you please find Floon and make sure he is safe?"

He describes him as a handsome human man in his early thirties with wavy red-blond hair. He was dressed in princely garb when Volo last saw him.

(The Campaign map has been updated with the location of the Skewered Dragon, since some of you know where it is: those some of you have been notified by private message, if you have not been so notified, you variously know where the Dock Ward is, or you have no clue at all!)

Jorin is about to respond to hildigrim when he sees Volo approach.  He stays his comment and listens to the man speak, his sense for adventure beginning to rise. 

He is chewing the meat off a bone of some kind when his calloused hands grasp the bone and snap it, "Oh yes, the Skewered Dragon, " he says, and sucks on one end of the snapped bone, "I know it well.  That is a bit of a low place, but its big on ale there, less so on windows."  He casts the bone to his plate than sucks on the other half, "They are usually broken...the windows.  Which is good for when you have to throw someone out of one."  He laughs adding, "Less to clean up!"   

Hew tosses the other bone and eyes Volo, "What were you and your friend doing there?  You don't seem the quite the sort of their regulars."